#Q seemed more amused and a bit offended

[yourbuerokrat2]

I really love scenarios, where Q comes running to Picard after the DS9 episode where Sisko punched talking about how mean Sisko was. 

And completely ignoring and leaving out the things he himself has done prior to that. Like insulting Sisko and, I don’t know, literally transporting himself and Sisko in a make-shift boxing arena and putting both of them in boxing gear. And then proceeding to taunt Sisko while mock punching. 

[comfyswitcherblanketfort]

please please a part 2 of that gamer!geralt au, them doing something like Q&A

Nonie, I hope you know what you signed up for. This got out of hand lmao. like 2.4k of Q&A kind of out of hand. 

Warnings: swearing, talk of drinking to excess, kinda spicy questions, lil kisses, idk how but I meant for this to be goofy and horny and it got kinda soft? what’s new?

____________

“Holy shit,” Geralt sat staring at his phone as he mindlessly stirred pasta.

“I swear to god, if you found a way to burn noodles-” Jaskier turned away from the blender to wave a wooden spoon covered in pesto puree.

Geralt shook his head and held his phone up to him, scrolling through the replies to a tweet as he did, going on for ages as Jaskier’s jaw slowly got closer to the floor.

“What are those for?!”

“I put up a poll for a boyfriend Q&A or a game review and not a single person has voted for the game review.” Geralt was still scrolling through questions people wanted answered as he watched Jaskier’s face go from shock to confusion to a smug grin. 

“They love me,” he sang, kicking his heel up as he turned back to the pasta sauce.

Geralt rolled his eyes and started screenshotting some of the less invasive questions, shaking his head and muttering, “Course they do.”

-

Geralt pressed record, waited a moment, and heaved a dramatic, long-suffering sigh, “You guys literally didn’t even give me a choice on this one,” he reached off frame and scruffed Jaskier, plopping him down on the couch with him. 

Jaskier didn’t stay where he was put for even a moment, using his momentum to bounce up onto Geralt’s lap with a shit-eating grin, “Oh? Are we rolling?”

Geralt dropped his forehead to Jaskier’s shoulder, stifling a laugh, “This is gonna be a long one.”

“Yeah, it is,” Jask agreed, then turned to the camera, stroking Geralt’s hair, “My fans want more!”

“OH-kay,” Geralt manhandled Jaskier to sit next to him which earned him a pout and a leg draped over his lap as he continued his intro, “I’ve got a bunch of questions from twitter. I didn’t even have to confirm which video we would do, you guys just went straight for the kill. I picked a few, Jask picked a few, neither of us knows which ones the other picked.” he turned to see Jaskier wiggle his eyebrows at the camera, “Why am I thinking you picked the raunchy ones?”

The brunet pretended to be offended before he smirked, “Only a few.”

Geralt rolled his eyes. “Of course,” he nudged Jask with his shoulder and opened up his phone to his screenshots, “Okay! First up is AdamSandlersBitch, nice name. They asked what Jaskier’s favorite gaming console and game to play is.” he turned to Jaksier with raised eyebrows.

His boyfriend cringed, “My.. my phone? I don’t know? I play a lot of Candy Crush while I listen to podcasts?”

Geralt smiled sweetly, “Wait what about Stardew Valley? I thought you started that?”

“I did!” Jaskier brightened up for a moment before he deflated again, “But I got confused and then the ADHD made me bake cookies.”

“Those were good cookies. I’ll play with you if you want?” Geralt’s normal ‘streamer dude’ persona melted away while he played with the rips on Jaskier’s jeans. 

Jask leaned forward and kissed his temple, “I’d love that.” 

Geralt blushed, even after years, Jaskier’s affection still caught him off guard. 

“Mkay! My turn!” Jaskier flashed his devilish grin and read, in his most obnoxious voice, “Dwn2Clwn said ‘do you two live together? Have you said ‘i love you’? And who tops?’”

Geralt’s mouth twisted into an upside-down U as he stared at Jaskier in muted surprise, “Honestly, not as bad as I expected.”

Jaskier looped his arm around Geralt’s, “I’m starting off easy.”

Geralt let his mock-disapproving gaze linger just a bit before he answered, “The living together is kind of new-like a few months. This one said ‘I love you’ on, what? The fourth date? Fifth?”

“Fourth.”

“No, it was the fifth, Eskel locked himself out on the fourth. Remember?”

“Shit you’re right,” Jaskier gave the camera a stern look, “In my defense, we’d been friends for a good four years before this. I wasn’t just confessing my love to a tinder date - though I have done that before.”

Geralt nodded, “That was very amusing.”

Jaskier tapped his nose, “Don’t avoid the last part, darling.”

Geralt huffed and stared down the camera, and, in the most matter of fact tone possible, said, “We switch. Compromise, folks. Can’t have one person doing all the work all the time.”

Jaskier nodded sagely, patting Geralt's chest, “We got a pow-”

Geralt clamped his hand over Jaskier’s mouth, 100% sure he was going to say ‘power bottom pillow princess’, “Nope. I’ll get demonetized for that.”

“But not who tops?” Jaskier asked through Geralt’s fingers.

He just shrugged, “I don’t make the rules.”

Jaskier tapped his phone and raised his eyebrows, telling him to move to the next question. 

“Mis- Mischanication? Shit I hope I said that right, Mischanication asked, ‘would you ever get a pet together?’ We did! Her name is Roach and she’s a little shit! I told Jaskier not to feed her, but he did, now we have the snuggliest, crankiest cat I’ve ever met!” 

Jaskier had gotten up to pluck Roach from her perch on the windowsill when Geralt had read the question and plopped down with her as Geralt finished his proud speech, “She’s not a little shit! She’s just delicate! Isn’t that right, darling?”

Geralt scratched under her chin and cooed, “You are a nasty little dragon baby, aren't you?! Just a little garbage child! Yes, you are. We love the tiny demon beast.”

“Geralt!”

He snickered and kissed Jaskier’s hair, “Next question, love.”

Jaskier grumbled something about positive reinforcement as Roach scampered back to her cat tree and he unlocked his phone for his next tweet, “This darling wants to remain anonymous,” Geralt gave him some serious side-eye at that, “they said ‘I think I’m in love with the flower twink, where can I find one of my own?’”

Geralt frowned at the camera and pulled Jaskier onto his lap, holding him close and snuggling into his chest, almost growling, “Hands off.”

Jaskier giggled, brushing Geralt’s hair out of his face as he talked to the camera, “You heard the man. Unfortunately, I was not mass-produced and I’ve been spoken for.”

Geralt looked up at him with what could only be called suspicious puppy eyes, “You picked that one just to sit in my lap didn’t you?”

“Yes. And because I want to change my socials to ‘flower twink’.” 

“Do it,” Geralt kept Jaskier on his lap as he swiped to his next question, “Eggsfuckingsuck - heh, my dad hates eggs- Eggsfuckingsuck says, ‘what is the most embarrassing thing you’ve caught each other doing/saying?’ Oh boy, do I have a story for you!”

"Oh I couldn't say the thing but you can tell this story!?" 

"...you have a point... Check my insta stories. I'll put it there after I post this." 

Jaskier nodded, ever so pleased, and turned to the camera, "Our dear Yennefer of sorceryglammour once beat Geralt at trivia night when the theme was 'video games'." 

“We did shots before we went to the bar and she goaded me and Lambert into a chugging competition before the round started. I’m telling you, she planned this. Yen is ruthless.” Geralt desperately tried to justify his defeat but Jaskier was having none of it. 

“She’s mostly harmless, plus I have video evidence from that night. You weren’t that far gone.”

“Pull it up! Let’s settle it.”

Jaskier patted Geralt’s head like one would a toddler, “I’d have to get my old laptop out. Later, darling.”

Geralt had a smug look on his face, “That means he doesn’t have it anymore.”

“Next question!” Jaskier squeaked, not at all changing the subject. 

Geralt shrugged, “If you admit I won that one.”

“It’s not a competition!” Jaskier laughed, looking down at him with that stupidly smitten look on his face.

“Hmmm…” Geralt tilted his chin up defiantly, “if you say so.”

Jaskier kissed him, lingering a little bit more than could be considered chaste, “I do.” 

Geralt looked up at him, batting his eyelashes, “Fine then, next question.”

Jaskier handed him his phone and he read it off leaning his head on Jaskier’s shoulder, “CountryBumpkin42 asked if we play any instruments. I play the recorder very poorly, but Jask plays everything.”

“Not everything, but yes, I could cover a Trans Siberian Orchestra song if I had a pedalboard with enough loop settings.” Jaskier preened. 

“And more,” Geralt added, counting on his fingers as he spoke, “In this house alone he has two pianos, three different types of guitars, a drumset, a violin and fiddle, a flute and piccilo, an oboe, a mandolin, a lute, bongos, saxophone, clarinet, tambourine, trumpet, and xylophone. Did I get them all?”

Jaskier glanced from side to side with a guilty look, “Ah… no, I bought a bass sax that showed up last night.”

“Oh, did Thursday at 3 decide they wanted to switch after all?”

“Yeah! She got the third chair as a freshman on a loaner instrument! I’m very proud!”

Geralt seemed to remember they were recording and turned back to the camera, “J teaches music at the university and does private lessons.” 

“It’s how I can afford such a pretty trophy boyfriend,” Jaskier teased, ruffling Geralt’s hair and earning a little chuckle.

“Mkay, what do you have next?”

Jaskier smoothed Gearalt’s hair back down as he read the next question, “3R4108F6!J asks if we have any cute nicknames for each other.”

Geralt’s eyebrows nearly flew past his hairline, “J has a new one for me almost every day.”

“Its true,” Jaskier nodded, “I am a slut for cute nicknames. This morning was Ger Bear, one of my faves. I called him Thumbs for a bit, I lovingly call him Dumb Fuck rather often.”

“And he is Dip Shit, it’s balanced. I usually just shorten names? Jask or J is usually it, right?” Geralt asked, shifting so Jaskier was sitting on the couch between his legs and they were both turned out toward the camera but very much still cuddling. 

“And when I’m being childish I get Alfie. But Geralt is much more deliberate and specific with his nicknames. It’s a bit of a friendship level up when he uses nicknames.”

Geralt frowned at him, “I do that?”

Jaskier giggled, “You never noticed?”

He tilted his head, giving Jaskier a quizzical look, “Not at all.”

Jaskier cupped Geralt’s cheek, “You’re so cute.”

Geralt blushed again, leaning into the touch just a tad, “Who’s turn is it?”

“Yours,” Jaskier hummed, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. 

“Okay,” Geralt blushed even more, “I had this one as an alternate, but uh, Yen asked what we’d name our first kid?” 

Jaskier leaned into Geralt’s shoulder and hummed as he thought for a moment, “I always like Blake or Spencer, but I seem to remember you saying something about old world traditional names?”

Geralt nodded, absentmindedly running his fingers up and down Jaskier’s arm, “My grandma was hoping each of us boys would be a girl and wanted mum to name us Cirilla every time. I quite like it, but I’m rather open as long as I don’t know someone with the name. I really like Eric?” 

“Oo, I like Eric.”

“But you like the neutral names.”

“I do, but it’s your hypothetical kiddo too.”

Geralt gave him a little squeeze, “There’s time for that later. What’s your next one?”

Jaskier snorted when he looked at his phone, “What are your guys’ love languages?”

Geralt just looked down at Jask, completely entangled in his arms, then up to the camera, “I’m gonna hazard a guess at physical touch.” 

“Yeah, I think that’s a safe bet,” Jaskier giggled, “I haven’t taken the quiz in years, but I was that and gifts.”

“Oh, yeah. Physical touch and words of affirmation. I got like a 0 on acts of service and gifts, but I really like giving gifts.” 

“Mhm, yes you do,” Jaksier wiggled his eyebrows, then turned to the camera, “I also had no idea you could have different giving and receiving languages till I met this one.”

Geralt nodded then turned to him with a slight frown, “you know I really thought your questions were going to be more graphic.”

“Oh, honey I saved the best for last,” Jaskier winked. 

“Fuck me,” Geralt grumbled before reading off his last question, “Cali852 asked what we did for Pride.”

Jaskier’s eyes lit up, “Oh Pride was fun. We watched the parade, of course, then Yen did our makeup and… and where did we go after that?”

Geralt looked like he’d been waiting for this, “We went to a club, where you ordered three kamakazis, knocked them all back, danced for twenty minutes, then I took you home.”

“N-no… we went to the beach, didn’t we?”

“That was the year before. We were going to go to the drag show at our regular bar too, but someone had just finished grading finals and went a little too hard.” 

Jaskier grinned, “Speaking of finals, time for the last question. I had a different one in mind but if the thing I cant say from earlier would get this demonetized then that defintitelyi would. So we’re going with ‘what is the wackest placy y’all banged?’”

Geralt snorted, “Shit who knows anymore?”

“Well there was the boat?”

“Or the train?”

“Nah, too standard. What about the cabin?”

“Heh, no I think your o-”

“I don’t have tenure darling,” It was Jaskier’s turn to slap his hands over Geralt’s mouth, “The answer is a dilapidated structure my parents still try to call a cabin out in the foothills.”

Geralt laughed and pulled his hand away, “Okay, that can be the answer.”

“Is that it? Now we just say bye?” Jaskier looked between Geralt and the camera.

Geralt shrugged, “Yeah. You wanna say the thing?”

Jaskier wiggled with a little pride and excitement, “Don’t forget to like and subscribe! Bye Fuckers!”

They both waved for a couple seconds before Geralt got up and turned the camera off. He popped out the memory card and was going to immediately start loading it onto his computer but Jask hooked his finger through a belt loop as he walked past and tugged him back down. 

“I’m tired. Snuggle with me.” 

Geralt hummed, “We just snuggled that whole time.”

Jaskier heaved a dramatic sigh, “I know and this is exhausting. I don’t know how you talk to a camera all day.”

Geralt stretched to set the chip on top of his laptop before collapsing back on top of Jaskier who had stretched the length of the couch, “Are you making fun of me?” he teased. 

Jaskier cupped his face between his hands and pulled him up for a deep kiss, “Oh never.” 

[almostdeath]

I freaking speedrunned this. It´s 05:34 right now. Just so you know.

Just one more…

One year. It has been one year since they got married. Who would have thought that it would last that long? A lot of people made bets and guessed that this relationship would last a couple of weeks at most. And look at them now, a whole year.

Schlatt was actually surprised to see the date of their wedding on the calendar, he didn´t forget, he just didn´t expect it to come so soon. He could have sworn that it was just yesterday when Quackity proposed to him. Usually the ram hybrid would question this kind of “loosing the track of time” because he is used to the business life. In business a lot of things depend on time. Punctuality, actuality, organisation. All that was important but this isn´t a case of business. It´s a case of feelings and it´s probably normal to lose track of time, when every single day seems timeless, memorable and if every single day is important and not just one specific date to which you should arrive in time, is it even possible to maintain the feeling of change in days, months and even seasons?

The ram hybrid looked back at his sleeping husband, the young hybrid already lied across the whole bed, wings spread, drooling on the bedsheets, messy, dark hair that would cover half of his face. One look and the president couldn´t maintain the serious expression, his mouth curved into a gentle smile. Technically they would have some work to do today, some issues regarding the economics and new buildings but…probably, he could try and finish all that as fast as he can. It would be a shame to not celebrate such anniversary. Schlatt made himself ready for the day, letting his husband sleep a little bit longer. When he finally finished, he approached the king-sized bed, sitting down on the edge and caressing Quackitys cheek with his palm, getting some of the hair out of his face. The young hybrid mumbled something in disagreement, slowly opening his eyes and looking up at his partner, a soft smile formed on his face immediately. Still a little bit clumsy out of sleepiness, he took his hand in his own, leading it to his lips. The duck hybrid then proceeded to leave little kisses on the back of Schlatts hand, giving more attention to the knuckles, some of which were bruised. -Don´t ya try to use this to stay longer in bed, pumpkin, get your fat ass up- it was said with clear amusement, without any real critic behind those words. -Mmm…what a shame…you remember which day it is?- the young hybrid lazily got out of the warm and cozy bed, flapping his wings a little bit to force them “awake” and causing some of the weaker, yellow feathers to fall. -How could I forget the day?....It´s Tuesday after all- they both grinned, even if Q tried to make a shocked expression and look as offended as never before. -I made you the luckiest person alive and you can´t even remember the date? Guapito, I am disappointed! - the duck hybrid could swear that he noticed slight blush on his partners cheeks, even without that, the fast flicker of the long, fluffy ears couldn´t lie. -Well, the date when we first met isn´t today, if I remember correctly.- this time, it was Quackitys turn to blush, so he turned away, trying to keep himself together, even when the soft giggles slipped from his lips. -Not fair, Schlatt…not fair.- the vice president made himself presentable, staying with his back to his husband. -Very fair, sugar. Okay, look…lets speak about it now, to focus on work for the rest of the day. Do you want anything special today? Restaurant, maybe visit another server? Movie night?- the ram hybrid wanted to continue the list and didn´t even notice that Q was already right in front of him, his steps being too light for noticeable noises and the president being too focused on the different ideas. The young hybrid covered his husbands lips with a soft and warm kiss, gently placing one hand on the back of his neck. This was a short moment, but it was as special as any other, because it´s a moment where they are closer than ever. -I thought…about a quiet drinking evening…- this was a slightly surprising suggestion. Not only did Q drink very rarely, but he was also a sloppy drinker. This was something that Schlatt remembered from their marriage ceremony. -If that’s what ya want, pumpkin. A drinking evening sounds good. - without any further words, the president united their lips again.

When the evening finally came, Quackity was excited. They brought some alcohol, mostly whiskey, one vodka and some fruity stuff, it was strange, but it was actually Schlatts initiative to buy those. They also got some soft drinks. Q never saw the president mix anything before, he always saw him drink that stuff pure. It only became stranger when Schlatt insisted on having a dinner first, saying that it would somehow help with the alcohol. The vice president honestly didn´t get the reason behind that, Schlatt never had a problem with drinking without eating anything beforehand, so why now?

Finally, everything needed was on the table in front of the cozy couch. Schlatt sat next to his husband and began to pour one glass of whiskey, apparently for himself because the second glass remained empty, but he did open one of the smaller bottles with some sweet stuff. Seems to be some kind of fruit-flavoured champagne. -Very funny. - Quackity looked at him with a slight annoyance, crossing his arms on his chest and looking now and then at the empty glass. -Ya should start slow. It will help you to handle it better. And that shit isn´t that bitter tasting.- even though the younger hybrid did mutter something in Spanish, he still accepted the little bottle. -After that I drink the same that you are drinking.- he proceeded to start drinking right away, trying to kill it all in one shot. Schlatt already smirked, predicting his husbands reaction to the whiskey that he was slowly sipping at, not trying to rush that moment. It was strange but the fruity stuff didn´t taste that bad, didn´t even make Quackity curl his face because of the flavour. As soon as the bottle was mostly empty, the duck hybrid put it to the side and reached to the whiskey bottle that was then put farther away from him. -Wait at least a couple of minutes.- Schlatt seemed serious and his voice was actually pretty low in that moment, the Hispanic male avoided his gaze, trying to ignore the way his own cheeks flushed. The president added some whiskey to the empty glass meanwhile but only filling less than a quarter of the said glass. The rest was then filled with cola. -Schlatt…come on…- Quackitys voice almost sounded genuinely hurt, he knew his limits. His husband didn´t need to be that careful. To prove that the duck hybrid grabbed the glass and tried emptying it in one swing, regretting his choice instantly. Even with that much cola, the taste was very strong, it burned in the throat, felt like liquid fire and almost caused the young hybrid to tear up. He pressed his lips together and shut his eyes shut, wrinkling his nose. At the sight of that Schlatt couldn´t hold back his laughter, he gently petted his husband on the back. -This is why ya should always listen to me, pumpkin- after a few coughs, the young male opened his eyes again, filled with stubbornness and determination. -Lets….try another one…-

One shot was taken after another and every new one should be “the last one” but it never was. Quackity was already swaying from side to side, humming the Mexican anthem. -Pumpkin, ya clearly had enough.- the duckling made some effort to mumble some protest, reaching for the half empty glass in Schlatts hand, the ram hybrid tried to raise his arm higher, bringing it out of reach. Quackity continued to reach for it, getting already on Schlatts lap, tapping with his fingertips on his husbands wrist and giggling. The president rolled his eyes, when warm lips met his own, almost missing. The older hybrid wrapped one arm around his partners waist and this was a moment that was used by the younger one, he managed to grab the glass and after successfully separating their lips, he emptied the glass in one swing, chuckling afterwards and lying down on the couch. The ram hybrid sighed with a small smile, taking the glass out of his husbands shaken hand and placing it on the table, that was now stained with liquid, which will surely cause some troubles later…but this was a problem of tomorrow. -Mmm…Schlaaatt- the ram hybrid looked down at his husband with a questioning look. -U…y..you know what I think…what I think….when I look at your face?...you…you know?- the president smirked, guessing what it could be. -That I should shave?- the duck hybrid reached with his arms up, placing both of his hands on Schlatts cheeks, cupping his face. -Na…I…I think that you are so…so bea…bue..be…pretty!- the older mans face flushed and he looked away for a moment, trying not to laugh. -You are such an idiot….- the next moment Schlatt looked down, he almost froze, his husband was on the verge of tears, he was about to start apologising, when Q already opened his mouth to speak. -I….I luv you so much…I…I feel like…I am not saying that enough…but…but you deserve that so….so much…I…you are…you are the best that happened to me…and…s..sometimes…I think that you deserve so much more..and…- further there were way more hiccups and sniffling. For a moment, the ram hybrid felt lost and at the loss of words but this didn´t last for too long. He lied down next to his husband and carefully made him lie down on him, wrapping his arms around him and placing kisses all over his face, earning some soft giggles. -I love you too…and hey…You are the best that I could ever ask for…okay? I….you don´t need to say how much you love me every time…I know that you do. I mean…who else would deal with me when I do something stupid? Or when I become so stubborn that I wouldn´t  even move my desk to a different position because the sun blinds me? Or when I refuse to admit that I am wrong which let to us having now around ten thousand sheeps because we needed less then hundred once but I added some superfluous zeroes because I didn´t sleep in two days?- at least now Quackity started to giggle again, enjoying the sensation of soft kisses on his forehead, cheeks, tip of his nose. -Y…yeah….that was funny to explain….we will never need any wool again…- he opened his eyes again, smiling gently and placing his hands on his husbands soft ears, gently stroking over the fluffy part. -Mmm…you are the only sheep I need- Q whispered with admiration, causing Schlatt to smirk. -This is probably….the best worst line that I ever heard from you…..mi amor.-

[zuffer-weird-girl]

Imagine Kai and angel’s first time sharing a bed

It seemed to be one of the storms you ever saw on your whole life after living in Japan.

You even catched on the news that a three fell near by where you were. The storm was so strong and the quantity of water was so huge that if you got a peek to look at outside you could even see a river on the street on the other side of the wall enveloping the yakusa house. Chrono even dared to joke that of Mimic made a boat he could navigate like he was in the sea outside, receivinga lunch from the man on his actual human form...

To say at last. You couldn't go back home, neither someone would let you.

"Maybe if I got a taxi-"

"There is no way you're going to get out on this storm (Y/n). And that's final." Your boyfriend growled while you sighed in hopeless. "Just expend the might here. There is no issue about it." He said in a manner of fact tone while you looked at him with flushed cheeks.

"I know but-" a clap of thunder following a flashing made you jump and yelp whole your boyfriend arched a eyebrow "Don't judge me! That caught me off guard!"

"Surely." He said nonchantly while you scoffed at his stoic expression "Unfortunately all of the rooms are occupied due to some precepts being not able to return to their homes. So it sticks with us to share a room then." He said nonchalantly while he turned his back to you to walk towards his bedroom... leaving a red faced you behind.

You? Him? You and your boyfriend? On the same room? The thought alone made your heart jump and breath to simply vanish, imagine actually practicing?!

"W-Wait! Kai!" You caught up to his steps while he looked at you "I can sleep on the couch."

"Nonsense." He said like he was even offended at such mention "You might develop some issues on your back or even worse." He opened the door for you to pass first "Just take a shower at least, my bed isn't having any filth germs or other disgusting things."

You arches a eyebrow at him with a smirk "So you're saying that I'm dirty?"

"I didn't. I simply cherish that you at least have decent cleaning habbits. I already did mine so go." You lifted your arms up in defence while giggling as he glared at you.

"Kai?" He grunted in response "I don't have any sleeping clothing in here. Can I please borrow some of yours? Just for tonight?" You asked cutely while he widen his eyes a bot before returning to look at you with those same serious eyes.

The thought would disgust and anger him to no less if someone even dared to mention such a thing... but the thought of you, wearing his clothes, gave him a feeling of... dominance. Like you were indeed his and only. Possesion and such things like that... and he had to admit that you would look quite adorable due to you guys height and size completly different from each other.

"... grab something on my closet." He muttered, trying to disguise his exciment and ... how flustered and smug he was.

You widen your eyes in shock at his words. You didn't actually thought he was going to agree with it! It didn't upseted neither trigger you in the wrong way at all, more like the opposite actually! But you knew how your boyfriend was and his mysophobia...

Maybe it was because you were going to wear it just after you were getting out of a shower...? It totally was Yet, now you were even more giggly and excited while you picked only one shirt and made your way to the bathroom.

Already ready to set the night off, he chosed to pick some book to wait a bit, the feeling of anxiety and creeping through his skin as he tried to convince himself that it wasn't such a big deal... sleeping next to someone.

He done that before? Never. Sleeping with someone beside you gave him unpleasant chills and feelings of vulnerability... that someone could easily stab teh other if they fell asleep... feeling like they were for once safe.

It meant more than that for him... it meant he truly trusted you more than anyone else.. it meant that he felt comfortable enough to show a bit of his vulnerability... even if it is just a small fraction of it.

He heard the door opening and it took only one glance to make his breath dissapear and his heart start to beat just as fast as it could.

"I.." he coughed a bit on his gloved fist "I thought you were getting the top and under part as well..."

"What?" You asked in innocence while you picked the end of the shirt as you twirled a bit "It basically looks like a dress on me!" You giggled before frowning at noticing that your boyfriend didn't even blinked "Do I look-"

"Dont even dare to finish that sentence." He interrupted whiel closing his book "You're... fine. Just sleep, is late as sh- is too late to be up."

You giggled at the way he paused and uncomfortably layed down next to you.

"That was you swearing?" You laughed a bit at the flip he gave to your forehead along with a scoff.

"Just shut it and sleep." He growled before turning his back to you, costing his shirt a bit and feeling his heart beat on his ears.

He wasn't feeling like this before... what was it about you that could leave him like this dammit? Could you hear his heart beating that fast?

He shifted a bit and heard your breath hitch on your throat. He looked at you while you blushed a bit.

"Sorry..." you said shyly while his eyes soften a bit... hesitantly turning his chest to you to look properly at the person in front of him.

He placed his hand close to your chest to confirm something, and he lifted his eyebrows in sorta of amusement at feeling that your heartbeat was just as fast as his.

"You're nervous? Scared?" He asked numbly as he chosed to mantain his gaze on his hand, knowing that if he looked into your eyes it was possible that he broked into a blush.

"... excited." You admited shyly "Sleeping next to someone you love is just... unique and so precious."

He made q slightly understanding sound, taking the sign that your heart beat was slowly easing a bit and that sleep was consuming you... so that was why he was feeling like this.

Maybe he did love you...

"I see..." he said, scoffing a bit at seing that you were fast asleep surprisingly. "... sleep well angel of mine." He turned the lights off and took off his mask only to look a bit at you... debating or not to do what crossed his mind before brushing his lips a bit in your forehead in a attempt of a kiss before surprisingly falling into a deep and peaceful sleep.

Bonus!

You woke up with a shen of sun light crossing your vision a bit as you grunted for waking up from such a beautiful sleep like this one... but oh well, you were a adult so you had to wake up and face your responsibilities... even if you didn't want to, not even a bit.

Although when you tried to get up you felt a certain weight of an arm around your midsection and felt a warm breath spreading through the base of your neck amd scalp.

Remembering the events of last might you instantly blushed crinsom red before slowly, and pausing sometimes to make sure the person behind you didn't woke up, turned just a bit to see the peaceful and sleeping face of your boyfriend.

Chisaki already had handsome and perfect features in your eyes; but when sleeping, he seemed so... innocent, so peaceful for once even despite him being part of the yakusa. He looked, dare you say, even more younger than he was...

To be complete honest... he was looking like a archangel from heaven. Such beauty he caried this man...

But your movements made him stir a bit, eyebrows furrow for only a fraction of second before he tightened his arms around you, slipping one leg between your warm ones bastard had cold feet you almost yelped while he nuzzled a bit in your hair before sighing in bliss and falling into peacefulness again.

Oh well... it looked like you were stuck. And you had no complains about it.

[verobatto]

Dean trying his hardest to prank Cas and it absolutely failing every time

Oh my gosh @rauko-is-a-free-elf I just had a good time writing this for you so hope you like it! Thanks for this hilarious prompt!

Unexpected Hiatus/Quarantine Prompts

Best Prank Ever

Destiel One Shot

Link to AO3

How Sam would explain this?

His brother was a dumbass.

At first it was funny seeing him trying to prank the angel. And Castiel's clueless face was really good to watch…

Those old and lame pick up lines his brother said once and once and again, okay. Funny at first. But not anymore.

Why did Dean insist with pranking Castiel if the angel didn't get a word of it?

Yeah, right… It was so obvious… it was so obvious that since they came back from Purgatory, Dean was gravitating around him. Giggling like a college girl. Sometimes he just stared at him with that drooling face.

Sam huffed a little chuckle. 

Yes, Dean was so obvious when he was in love. And he was so in love with the angel.

Cas was preparing coffee now, he had taken off his trenchcoat, and Sam was seated taking his breakfast when Dean arrived and stopped dead on his tracks. He swallowed at the sight of the naked angel.

He smiled mischievously and when Cas turned around to pour coffee on the mugs, the older hunter shoot.

"Hey Sammy, we just need to call Heaven, because they lost an angel," Sam rolled his eyes but Dean was smiling, then he winked at Cas waiting for his answer but the angel scowled with bewilderment in his face and tilting his head he said serious…

"We can't call Heaven, Dean, they hate me." And he left kind of offended.

Sam swinged his head to meet his brother disappointed eyes, "Really Dean?" the younger Winchester scolded him. Dean showed his dimples of discontent, he sat in silence and drank his coffee.

It was the afternoon and Sam was reading some books with Castiel, trying to understand more about the tablets, when Dean arrived all smiley and amused. 

"Hey, Cas! Knock knock," the hunter was waiting hopefully for an answer. Sam closed his book sharply, and Cas turned his frowned face to Dean.

"I don't…" he started saying.

Sam buffed, "You have to say 'who's there'," he said with tiresome in his voice.

Castiel flicked his eyes back to Dean again, who was giggling and waiting. 

"Who's… who's there?" Castiel squinted his eyes puzzled.

"Bar-B-Q!" Replied Dean, he rubbed his hands.

Sam sighed exhausted, "Now you have to ask Bar-B-Q who," the hunter ran his had on his so done face.

"Ahm…" the angel was kind of nervous, it seemed like a test or something, his eyes came back to Dean again, "Bar… Bar-B-Q who?"

"Bar-B-Q-t but I think you're even cuter!" Exclaimed Dean drowning a laugh, Sam hung his head ashamed.

Castiel cocked his face and scowled with beflement, "I… I don't understand that reference…" he said, and Dean's smile faded, the hunter felt defeated, and he left.

Cas side eyed Sam with worrisome.

"Sam… I think your brother is trying to tell me something, but he's using some kind of codification I can't decipher…" the angel diagnosed, Sam snorted.

"Yes and no, Cas…" he murmured, "Yes he is trying to tell you something but is not codified… he's just using bad jokes… I wish he could just…" Sam laid-back against the chair and exhaled heavily, "... Use his own words to say he likes you."

Cas blinked in awe, "He likes me?"

"I thought that was obvious, Cas, yes." The hunter turned his head to face his friend. "Someone has to do something to make him stop this pranks…" he lamented, opening his book again and reading.

Castiel frowned thoughtful.

///

The dinner was almost ready, Sam was putting the glasses on the table and Dean was serving the food when Castiel arrived.

He stopped in front of Dean, staring at him intensely.

"Knock Knock," the angel said with seriousness in his face. 

Sam raised his eyebrows and wheeled around to see the angel, Dean drifted his amazed eyes from his brother to Cas, "Ahm… who… who's there?"

And without any other word, the angel pressed a clumsy kiss on Dean's lips. Sam flinched.

"I don't know how to continue the joke, so I thought…" said Castiel, blinking flustered. Dean smiled fondly.

"You just did it perfect, Cas," he whispered, pulling the angel against his body, and kissing him tenderly.

Sam grinned, but when he saw the situation was getting… hot, he knew it was time to run away.

"I'll… I'll eat on the library," he announced, but Cas and Dean were now so into that kiss, that he just grabbed his food and left.

Best prank ever… thought Dean.

////////

Hope you like this my dears!!

Tagging my friends...

@emblue-sparks @magnificent-winged-beast @agusvedder @michyribeiro @lapsus-story @casualpandabeliever @a-bit-of-influence @trashblackrainbow @bluebell-24 @ashleyzander @dean-is-bi-till-i-die @destiel-shipper-11 @love-neve-dies @sunshineandwings86 @staycejo1 @justmeand-myinsight @dizzypinwheel @jawnlockwinchester @breathing-oximoron @legendary-destiel @spnsmile @shippsblog

Stay safe and stay at home!

[melynen]

Sweet Surprises - 00Q

James Bond returns from a mission from Finland tired but cheerful and armed with a little something sweet — well, several somethings, really — to make up for the long absence from London and his boyfriend.

Q is still at Six when he opens the door and steps in, dragging his luggage after himself and bending down to receive Aziraphale’s enthusiastic greeting in the form of eager little chirps and lots of headbutting. Crowley, ever the more wily one, is sitting by the coat rack and staring at him with wide, unblinking bright yellow eyes. James picks Aziraphale up, abandoning the suitcase by the door for the time being, and takes his time with cuddling him and telling him how much he has missed him and his brother before putting him down again and getting ready to wait patiently until Crowley deigns to come get his share of the cuddles.

He saw Q briefly after his debrief with M when he was dropping off his kit at Q Branch (and simultaneously locking himself and Q behind closed doors in Q’s office for a delightful fifteen-minute long I’m-happy-that-you’re-back-again interlude), but other than that they’ve been apart, both busy with their own obligations. Q did promise to leave earlier tonight, though, so at least there’s that. In return, Bond promised to have dinner ready and waiting, and he has big plans for dessert as well as dessert.

Finally, Crowley decides that he’s waited long enough and makes his way over to Bond. He accepts the pets as his due and looks personally offended when Bond doesn’t immediately dig out the cat treats that he knows Bond has hidden in his suitcase. Bond chuckles and shakes his head.

“All in good time, darling, all in good time,” he tells Crowley and gets an annoyed-sounding mrrrouw for his troubles.

“Cheeky Crowley,” he says affectionately, and watches as Crowley shows him his behind in retaliation.

Laughing to himself, Bond begins hauling his suitcase towards the bedroom. Both cats follow him there, naturally, because if anything, Q’s darlings are persistently curious. They sniff at each and every item Bond removes from his suitcase, from dirty laundry to the book he’d been reading in the evenings and his souvenirs to Q. When Crowley spots the cat treats he gives Bond such a betrayed look that Bond cannot help but soften and open the bag, offering both kitties a piece to see if they like it.

When they both paw at him for more, followed by a chorus of pitiful meows, Bond gives them one more piece each and then reseals the treat bag. “That’s enough for now. You’ll get more in the evening when Q returns,” he tells them. “But perhaps you’d enjoy these while waiting?”

He unearths two cat toys of different shape and colour — one is a green turtle that Bond had picked because its colour reminded him of Q’s eyes, and the other is a purple bunny — and puts them down on the bed. They’re both filled with catnip, and there’s a rubber ball inside of them that makes them jump into random directions. The clerc at the local pet shop had shown that to him and assured him that they would offer the cats hours of fun. Bond is a bit more sceptical, but he’s willing to try. If nothing else, Q’ll be happy that he’s been thinking about the cats while being away from them.

Aziraphale is the first to snatch the purple bunny away, leaving Crowley to lightly poke at the turtle with a curious paw, just as Bond had expected. They seem to be rather taken with their new toys, and Bond watches fondly as both cats carry their prey away from him and disappear from the bedroom.

That gives him ample time to finish unpacking, deal with the laundry and arrange Q’s souvenirs neatly on top of the coffee table in the living room. He’s looking forward to seeing Q’s expression, as he’d only hinted about the surprise that would wait for his boyfriend once he’d find his way home for the evening, appealing to his curiosity to encourage him to hurry home that much sooner. Q’s a curious man, not unlike his cats, and Bond has learned to use it to his advantage.

As one part of the surprise is a recipe that he’d received from his Finnish contact, along with the sweets that go with it, Bond glances at his wristwatch and estimates that he still has at least three hours before he can reasonably expect Q to arrive. It’s more than enough to make dinner, bake the biscuits using the recipe, and take a shower afterwards.

The dinner would be relatively simple: his famous homemade lasagne he knows that Q loves, along with freshly made bread and a side salad. The biscuits would be easy to make yet delicious, his contact, a young woman in her mid-twenties called Lumi, had assured him. The latter he does know from experience, having tasted them one day while visiting Lumi; he’d asked her for the recipe before he’d left, hoping to be able to make them for Q in the future.

Lumi had been more than happy to help, and had presented him with the translated recipe the very next time they’d seen one another, written in her neat handwriting. She’d also asked to hear Q’s opinion afterwards, which Bond had easily promised. (He’d told her quite a bit about his boyfriend during downtime, and she’d even helped him look for some souvenirs for him. Privately, Bond thinks that she might even have fallen just a tiny bit in love with Q’s voice as she’d been given an earpiece of her own and had thus heard him speak several times. At least she’d gushed about his voice to Bond more times than he’d cared to count.)

Bond carries the recipe to the kitchen, and remembers to also bring along the bag of the Dumle sweets that it requires. He reads through the instructions carefully, smiling amusedly at her little personal notes sprinkled in between the text, and then gets to work. He does exactly as the recipe tells him to, and ends up with three baking trays full of lumps of batter that would, hopefully, turn into thin, crispy biscuits in the oven.

His first tray yields rather… interesting results, but luckily his second tray gives him biscuits that at least look like biscuits instead of this funny, stuck-together arch-like creation he’d managed as his first attempt. Bond snaps a photo of it with his mobile after putting his final tray into the oven, all the while wondering what he should do about it. Break it into smaller pieces by hand? Most likely, even though that would not give him the prettiest of results.

Once finished with the biscuits and with the bread dough rising under a kitchen towel he’d brought to Q from Greece, Bond sits down on the table. With the cats reappearing and curiously watching his every move, he sends the photo of the first failed attempt to Lumi, and receives a very amused reply from her within minutes. I did warn you, it says, followed by a laughing and crying emoji. At least your boyfriend should get a chuckle out of it, she then continues, sounding a tad more comforting. And the taste won’t be affected either way.

Then there’s a five minute gap, before she sends one last message: I hope you’re better at following directions while cooking than when you’re baking, tacking a winking emoji at the end of the sentence.

Bond shakes his head, amused, but he does end up sending her photos of both the bread and the lasagna once they’re finished and waiting to be eaten, just to prove to her that he definitely is.

*

Q arrives five whole minutes earlier than Bond had estimated, and he all but drops his bag and outer layers right there by the door in his haste to greet Bond with a long, passionate kiss. Bond, who has just finished setting the table, wraps his arms around Q’s waist and lets himself be walked against the closest wall by his eager boyfriend. He’s perhaps a touch amused at the sudden display of possessiveness from his generally more submissive lover, but he has nothing against being the less aggressive one for a change.

“Someone’s eager,” he purrs, grinning, when they finally pull away enough to take in some much needed air.

“I’m impatient,” Q corrects him, leaning closer to place a gentler kiss against the corner of his mouth. “And perhaps a little bit desperate. But can you blame me? You’ve been gone for five whole weeks, and I’ve barely seen you at all today.”

“I am fully aware of that,” Bond says. He brings one hand up to Q’s hair while his other hand that’s still around Q’s waist tightens just a bit, and enjoys having access to that lovely mess of curls again. He’d missed it, and everything else about Q, like he’d never missed anything ever before.

Q smiles softly at that. “I missed this,” he murmurs against Bond’s cheek.

“I know you did,” Bond says teasingly. “Though as much as I’m enjoying this now, the dinner is ready, and I’m sure that you’ve not eaten anything since breakfast.” At Q’s decidedly guilty look Bond snorts and gently pushes him away.

“Right. Come along then, darling, and let me feed you.”

Q comes willingly, allowing Bond to lead him straight to the dining room. There he proceeds to practically inhale two big portions of lasagne, a heap of salad, and several slices of bread, along with three glasses of the fine red wine Bond had bought for the occasion.

Pleased, Bond eats his share of the food and regales Q with a few selected tales from his mission, those of which he hasn’t already shared with Q on the phone. Q’s the best audience he could ever hope for, laughing at exactly the right places and saving his eye rolling only to where it’s definitely needed.

Afterwards, Bond clears the table while Q takes care of brewing them a pot of tea. (Q’s skills vastly exceed his in that department, and Bond has decided it’s best to leave the task to Q’s capable hands most of the time.)

Bond has hinted at a special dessert, and Q’s visibly brimming with curiosity, but he’s trying to keep it contained for the time being. At least until the tea is done, Bond hopes, and brings out their tea mugs.

Only, the mug he hands to Q is a new one, a Moomin one he’d brought to him from Finland, and he tells Q exactly that.

“Oh, thank you,” Q says, accepting the mug and turning it around in his hands to see it from all sides. “It’s lovely. Is it Sniff? And he has a cat, too.”

Bond nods. “You’re correct. I had a hard time choosing the right character for you, but the cat was certainly a deciding factor.”

Q smiles. “I did guess. And I do like it a lot. Thank you, James.” He leans closer again and presses a light kiss to Bond’s cheek, which makes Bond pull him closer with wrapping an arm around his waist. Careful of the mug Q’s still holding, Bond captures Q’s mouth in a deeper kiss, one that lasts until the tea pot whistles and forces Q to reluctantly pull away again.

While Q prepares their tea, Bond goes to get the plate of biscuits he’d assembled earlier (he’d stashed the broken ones away for later and used only the ones that he’d actually gotten right) and brings it with him to the living room. Q follows soon after, careful due to the hot teas and the fact that both Aziraphale and Crowley have reappeared and are trying their best to make him stumble and fall. Or perhaps they just want attention, as Q has been focusing most of his on Bond tonight, which tends to make the kitties jealous.

Bond waits until Q has placed the mugs down on the coasters on the coffee table and sat down next to him on the sofa, with the cats sleeping wrapped up with each other on the other sofa, before he wraps an arm around Q’s shoulders. “Are you ready for your dessert, darling?”

“You know I am,” Q replies, smiling, and turns to take a proper look at the plate of biscuits. Bond can tell that he’s curious about the rest of the souvenirs, too, but he’s too polite to outright ask. Well, right away, anyway.

“I baked the biscuits for you,” Bond explains, “using a recipe I got from Lumi. She made sure that I had the right sweets for it, and that I’d have extras for you to try on as well.”

“That’s very nice of her.”

“Go on, then, try one,” Bond ushers him.

Q has a biscuit and then another one, and he ends up feeding Bond bites from the second one when he notices that Bond hasn’t yet eaten any. (Bond did have a few of the broken pieces earlier, and he’ll eventually confess all of that to Q, too. But later. Tomorrow, perhaps.) When he’s done and is playfully complaining about his sticky fingers, Bond solves it by licking them clean himself and making Q flush and poke him on the side with his free hand while he’s at it. Bond still considers it a fair trade-off.

Afterwards, once they’ve both finished their teas and Q has washed his hands because “That was hardly hygienic, James!” although Bond digresses, Bond finally gives Q his souvenirs.

There are several bags of different kinds of Finnish sweets (including a box of salmiakki, the salty licorice that most of the Finns seemed to love — although Lumi had assured him that it was an acquired taste she herself couldn't stand) as well as a high pile of Fazer chocolate bars in all the flavours they had available, all of which Bond had chosen with Q’s famous sweet tooth in mind. There’s also a selection of homemade berry preserves and powdered berries Bond has bought straight from the people who’d made them, three packages of flavoured Nordqvist loose leaf tea, and two bottles of alcohol: a bottle of cloudberry liqueur and another of Koskenkorva vodka, both of which are typical Finnish alcoholic beverages. At least according to Lumi, who should know these things.

The final souvenir is a pair of knit woolen socks that were actually made by Lumi herself. She’d made another pair for Bond, too; Q’s pair is green like the colour of his eyes and adorned with cats, while Bond’s is bright blue and decorated with miniature replicas of his trusted Walther. Bond had laughed when he’s seen them, but he appreciates them greatly, and he’s looking forward to seeing Q wear his.

“Well,” Q says, sounding amused at the amount of sweet things that Bond has brought back, “at least we don’t have to buy any jam for a while. Or chocolate. Please tell me that you left something for others too?”

Bond huffs. “So perhaps I got a little overboard.”

“A little!”

“Hush, you. The selection there is rather extensive, and I didn’t want you to feel left out.”

“And I appreciate it,” Q says. “I really do. But having you back home with us is more than enough.”

“I hope that you’ll like the socks at least,” Bond says. “Lumi knit them herself.”

“They’re adorable and I love them. Do remember to tell her that when you give her my thanks.”

“Of course. And I will expect to see you wear them, too. But not right now. There’s something else I’d rather see you wear.”

“Which is?” Q asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Absolutely nothing at all.”

“Really now? Well, I suppose it can be arranged,” Q says, his eyes sparkling. “If you’ll follow me…���

Bond smiles as he gets up and follows Q to the bedroom. He’ll send Lumi the promised text later. Much later, if everything goes according to plan.

[filthysweetie]

James Bond drabble

Prompt: “Dear Diary...” 

missed a day >.< this one is begging to be a longer story, but i had to cut it so i can finish packing...note that there’s a brief description of torture in this one.

Edit: This now has a sequel here if anyone wants to read it :) 

———

Dear Diary,

Let it be known this is done under duress. Apparently, not being a bloody field agent does not get you out of psych evaluations and ‘recommended’ methods to cope with ‘high stress levels’ and ‘worrying tendency to identify job performance as self-worth’. I bet they didn’t make Boothyard do this. You get kidnapped once and then everyone suddenly thinks you’re a delicate flower. 

Hell, Bond got kidnapped (I guess it’s just called captured when they’re agents…which actually is now making me quite offended that when I was taken it was called kidnapping) on 7 of his last 15 missions. I don’t see him writing a damn diary about it! (Although god, imagine that.) Besides, what’s the point of keeping a diary if it’s mandated and also!! Your psychiatrist will be reading it? Maybe I should start writing in code. 01000110 01110101 01100011 01101011 00100000 01111001 01101111 01110101 00100000 01000100 01110010 00101110 00100000 01011001 01100101 01101110 00101110 ——— “What is…that?”

Q turned, not the least bit surprised to see James standing there behind him. He had a mission coming up and was obviously ready for his kit. Q did a little ritual over the case, always so sad to see the fine pieces of machinery go when the chance of them returning was so dismal. Instead of focusing on the kit, though…Q followed his eyes to the little journal on his desk. It was covered in stickers (most of them shiny, some of them hello kitty gifted by a little one on the tube who got three on before he or her mother noticed) and attached in the pen holder was a pen with a fuzzy feather top. It was rainbow. 

Can’t blame the man for noticing it, it was a rather stark deviation from the normal color pallet and maturity level of Q’s desk.

“Oh, that old thing?” Q pat the top with a little more force than necessary, “my psych assigned diary. I figure if they choose to treat me like a child I may as well oblige.”

James took a moment before speaking, “And what, pray tell, made them think you need it?”

Q blinked, “Does that mean you’ve done it too?” That was a bit of a surprise. The double-o agents seems to thrive on their disregard of ‘normal’ coping, of medical, and of psych all together.

“Answer the question, Q.” James had the audacity to roll his eyes.

“Now I’m very curious,” Q can’t help it, “what do you write in it? About the girls you like? About more interesting ways to destroy my tech?”

“Mostly survivors guilt.” James says, nonchalant.

Well, that answers that, “Oh…” damn it, now he’s obliged to answer James’ question regardless of if this is an interrogation tactic or not. He gives a half shrug, “Dr. Yen assigned it after the kidnapping.”

“Excuse me?”

“I know, I thought it was all very much over the top as well.” Q fights a sigh, “Now your kit—”

James shakes his head, “No, wait, you were kidnapped?”

Q blinks, ignores the chill that goes down his spine; “I knew they didn’t release that on the official channels but I assumed you’d know none the less.” Q clears his throat, “Now, your kit.”

James quiets then, but there are a lot of questions behind his eyes. Who’s to say if Q focuses on his tech a bit more than he normally would. ——— Dear diary, 

I didn’t realize it had been kept quite so secret. I should have known, we are a spy organization. But I was {Q hesitates over the word, crossing out kidn and captu wishing suddenly that he was using his standard pencil instead of this purple inked mess of a pen} gone for 11 days. I guess I figured they would have told the double-os at least, maybe brought them in to help find me. Not that I needed anyone’s help, of course, I mean I got out of there myself, didn’t need anyone rescuing this damsel.

But the fact that {Ja is scribbled over fully; must remember that this will be read} there were agents I’m the primary handler of that didn’t notice at all. What excuse were they told when I wasn’t on the comms? Would they have just kept been given excuses until the forgot to keep asking?

My cats were fed, at least. Moneypenny thought I would come back, or at least held out enough hope to not sell my apartment and put my cats in a shelter after 11 bloody days. 

R had been searching non-stop—bless her, I think she needs this exercise more than me. Poor girl looked like she hadn’t slept since I’d left; keeping all the missions on track while searching for me. It was her and Riley and Sunil that found me on the security footage after I got out of that place and got me a pickup. It’s not like I was forgotten or anything. {Why do I feel forgotten? Q stares at the line in it’s stark purple ink for a long moment before crossing it out. He doesn’t want to talk about that with himself, let alone Dr. Yen.}

Regardless. R has finished debriefing me on all active missions that I’d missed some portion on, and overall everything is going well. Testing of the new laser pen fell behind during my absence but it’s to be expected. It will give me something to do tomorrow when most of my active agents are in transit. ——— “Q, Sir, we really need you in the pit.” Laila said, standing at the threshold of his office, seeming a bit more frazzled than normal. There are no alarms (auditory or silent) going off around her, so the attitude was a bit perplexing.

Q puts the soldering iron down on it’s stand and takes off the magnification glasses, replacing them with his own, already getting up and heading towards her, “What’s the matter?”

“Sir, one of the agents is being belligerent; requesting to speak only to you before moving forward with his mission.”

That’s a new one; “Alright then, transfer the secure line to my station please, Laila.”

It’s always nice, walking out to the floor, seeing his people working away. Standing at the center of it is like being cocooned within the greatest minds of London. It’s safe. 

“Yes?”

“Q”Jame’s voice is instantly recognizable, “I’ve arrived in Paraguay and will be rendezvousing with the contact at 1430.”

Q waited. Nothing.

“And?”

“That is all.”

Q blinked, glad that James couldn’t see the confusion that must certainly be coving his face, “You called me away from my prototypes to give me a standard mission update that you could have given to any one of my people?”

“Had to make sure you were still around, Q”

“Still—” it clicks, “Oh. Well. Yes, I am very much still around.

“Good.” Is that a smile in his voice or is Q projecting? “I’ll check in again after the rendezvous.”

Q’s throat clicks, dry; “I’ll be here.” ———— Dear Diary, 

When will this little experiment be over? It’s been a half month! I haven’t got much free time at all, and wasting it in this damn book isn’t helping anyone. Least of all me. ————— “I notice you haven’t actually written anything about the kidnapping?” Dr. Yen asks, looking through his entries with a clinical eye.

“I much prefer to call it capture.” Q says in leu of an answer. The sticker covered mess looks silly in her hands, but she seemed to have enjoyed his take on ‘making it his own’ even if he’d been doing the antithesis of that. Granted, some of his minions have added stickers to it too—so next to hello kitty is a ‘back it the fuck up’ sticker in fancy script with an old school desktop monitor showing the phrase, and a sparkly unicorn that Trevor insists is from his kids but Q has his doubts. If he leaves it on his desk unattended, when he comes back there are always new stickers. No one ever opens it, respecting some privacy that doesn’t really need respecting (it’s not like there’s anything of substance in there), but it’s a nice gesture none the less.

Dr. Yen smiles, “Of course,” Q wishes she were a bit more of a dick like Dr. Reynard had been—it was easier to dismiss someone when they were being an ass, “I notice you haven’t written about your capture—or escape for that matter—at all. There are some references to it, but no detail. Do you have any thoughts on why that is?”

Q takes a sip of tea. It is nice that these meetings are uninterrupted tea time—though he could do without the conversation. 

“There’s nothing important to say about it.” Q set the mug down, making sure to be gentle about it, “it’s all done, and I don’t exactly plan to get kidna—captured again.”

Dr. Yen gives an amused smile, “no one really plans to get captured at all.” Then, “Sometimes the act of writing down an experience”—she stopped using ‘traumatizing experience’ a while ago, Q did not have a traumatizing experience, thank you—“can solidify it in our reality. It may be difficult to do that at first, but once it is solidified, we can begin to process it in a healthy way.”

“It’s already written up in the after-action report.”

“Yes, but that was what happened, not how it felt to be going through those things.”

Q rolls his eyes, “do you want me to write a soliloquy on how sad and lonely it was and how I felt abandoned by MI6 and made peace with my death? Or maybe how it transformed me in ineffable ways and I have a new lease on life?”

It was so annoying to lay on that perfect level of sarcasm to have it disregarded so thoroughly, “If that’s how you feel, yes.” God she’s so earnest. 

“Well it wasn’t” Q snapped out. He picked up the mug again and took another sip. Setting it down extra soft, with barely a ‘clink’ on the glass table, “Excuse me, I must be more tired than I thought.”

“Not to worry,” Dr. Yen smiled, “your job is stressful any given day of the week, it’s certainly understandable. Please do give it a thought though as you go through this week. Sometimes putting things to paper allows our minds to ‘get it out of our system’ instead of having it linger in our subconscious.”

“Very well. I will give it some thought.” ———— Dear Diary, 

Lets give it the old college try, shall we?

I admire James Bond. He’s one of our best field agents, though his record for returning his tech is abysmal. He seems to come back from the brink of death more times than a cat and never seems to let it affect him. Always ready for the next mission.

I want to be like that. He’s been through so much, the loss of M, the burning of his home, the burning of so many false starts at a normal life, and he comes back and he may be battered but he’s still whole. Undoubtedly whole. I get kidnapped once and now I can’t even get a good nights sleep unless I’m folded awkwardly on the little couch in my office, and of course that sleep is poorer for other reasons. 

I know I’m capable, I know I can destroy countries and get myself out of most any situation that I find myself in, but I didn’t realize exactly how that situation would affect me. I haven’t lost confidence in my abilities, but maybe loss of confidence in my security? Is it just a waiting game to see when I’ll next be thrown into the back of a van, drugged, and then wake up in a windowless room, IV in my arm strapped to a chair with no fucking idea how much time has passed? When will I next find myself threatened and beaten? The soles of my feet slashed, so dehydrated that I can’t put my head up without feeling dizzy? 

Obviously I can survive it. I have. 

The thought of it happening again…it’s terrifying. And it can happen at any time. And I thought I admired James because he looked like a good lay. Maybe it’s because he seems unbreakable and I worry I’m already broken. ———— Q stared at the pages for a long time. Was he supposed to feel hollow?

He tore them out, crumpled them like a secret and then lit them on fire. This was a spy organization after all, no point in letting that level of weakness get out. ———— Dear Diary, 

Laila got a new corgi puppy. Despite being a cat person, I have to admit it’s quite cute.

[celestialholz]

A Good Day To Die

Hello, dear Qcard squad - happy slightly belated Tapestry Day! <3 I’m SO SORRY this is a little late, though for once it’s absolutely not my fault! I’m visiting some family up in northern England, and there’s been a hell of a storm that’s outed several power lines locally - they’ve only just reconnected this morning, so I’m finally able to pop this up as my laptop now has some charge! I shall be reblogging all your lovely contributions with commentary tags today too. <3

Let me tell you a quick story before the actual one though, friends, of a girl on a Saturday afternoon playthrough of TNG for the first time, about six years ago now; already a huge fan obviously because we’re in series six, already very much in love with Q and the indomitable captain, but I’d wondered here and there: why was Jean-Luc so special? Sure, he was clever and wonderfully diplomatic, even a bit nuanced, and a nice change of pace from Kirk, who I also loved - but where did this spark come from? Why was he a rebel sometimes, when he seemed to play so much by the book most of the time?

... And then we get to this. A fascinating premise right from the word go of an immediately deceased/critically injured Picard, going into the fascination of a void space, a god cloaked in white with his usual wondrous enigma, and what’s always been to me the single finest piece of character exploration in the whole of the Trek canon. It’s intelligent, deeply amusing, philosophical, psychological, fascinating... we watch this man fall apart and rebuild and learn his lessons, and all the while we have this gorgeous chemistry, this blatant and beautiful homosexual coding, between our two stars, with Q’s ambiguous motives and goddamn, I was enchanted. 

... Honestly, it’s my favourite fucking TV hour of all time, and it’s my pleasure to finally celebrate its anniversary properly. My great thanks to @q-card​ for taking my idea and running wild with it, you marvellous being you. <333

I’d planned to make something much grander and mad for this accordingly, but... well, you know how it is. Very long week, depression... eurgh. So instead, please accept something a fair bit shorter but no less lovely: a parable of ancient Egyptian culture, a delicious dose of angst and love, and the promise of forever from a man who really can’t understand the meaning of the word, but wants nothing more than to offer it anyway. Set during STP, and I for one think this would be a lovely way to end it all...

-----------------------------------------------------------------

It’s fitting, Jean-Luc, he thinks serenely as he disengages the autopilot with a pang of adrenaline, a silent resignation, stoicism etched into his weathered features. Everything has its time, dear man, and you’ve had more than most.

There’s no real other method of death he’d have been content with, if he’s being honest with himself. It’s explosions, fireworks, heat, when he’s too old for any of it physically, when he’s exhausted mentally, but can still lay claim to the most youthful and adventurous spirits, the very soul of a captain; it’s plunging into a supernova at sub-warp to take out the rejuvenated Borg fleet in the resultant fire, beings he abhors so profoundly, is still so very haunted by all these years later, still has nightmares of his time amongst their number.

The protests of his newfound crew echo through his mind, the panic of five minutes prior naturally fresh; a simple plan, ultimately, forged days after he’d discovered their real enemy. Emergency transport, patterns already established, ready for the simple verbal command of a destination within reach; his friends enveloped, incapable of escape without the certainty of scattering to atoms, horror absolute.

“Admiral, you can’t be fucking serious - ”

“This cannot be how our quest ends! I will never forgive you!”

“... No, no, I know that look - JL, you can’t , you bastard - !”

“They took you once, Captain; we’ve won, dammit! There is no need to prove it further!”

He shivers with their regrets, jaw setting in defiance of his actions - it isn’t about proving anything, and he’d imagined Seven of all people would know that good and well. It’s about setting the universe to rights, ensuring continued prosperity from a species who deserve simply to be left in peace, who had been through more than enough to last them multiple lifetimes... to perhaps finally repaying a fraction of the debt he owed to the dead, the assimilated, of Wolf 359. It will never absolve him; nothing ever could.

But he can ensure it never has to happen again - not to him, not to another living soul in this quadrant. This is their last stand, and he will eradicate them. He isn’t a threat, of course - why would he be, in his tiny vessel?

Resistance is not, and never has been, futile, he acknowledges coldly, teeth beared in disgust. You wanted me to lead you, didn’t you? Allow me to make it so.

“Warning: recommend immediate retreat. Heat shields at thirty-one percent integrity; collision course with Elphoric Supernova in three minutes, thirty seconds.”

“Computer,” he announces frostily, “cease warnings.”

“With respect, my dearest admiral, perhaps you’d do well to pay attention.”

His mechanical heart skips several beats in the same moment, frenzy racing up his spine in anger, anticipation, anguish -

He hasn’t seen the speaker in four years, but he’ll turn up for the last three and a half minutes?

The flash claims his vision, the signature ping resounds, and the air falls immediately silent as he stares at eyes that read eternity and burn solely for him.

“Would you mind explaining what the hell you’re doing?”

He takes a full ten seconds of his remaining few minutes to simply absorb his husband’s presence, the faint lines that crease his forehead, the unspoken despair and the silent love and the carvings of exhaustion, and it’s as though something snaps once more back into place in his soul; as though he’s finally returned home after a solid millennia of travelling, embraced instantly by recalled warmth and comfort and precious, precious familiarity.

... Perhaps he ought to be less furious.

“... War’s over then, I take it?” His voice cracks through the stagnant bridge, and for the briefest of moments, he forgets entirely that he’s voluntarily crashing to his own destruction.

Q’s gaze flickers, stricken, and he regards his spouse with disbelief, crouching before him.

“Hardly the moment.” He curls fingers around shaking ones, squeezes tightly. “Honestly, I leave you alone for five minutes -”

“Four years,” Picard intones, hollow, charcoal eyes ablaze. “Four, dammit.”

Q winces, digs finely manicured nails gently into aged skin with sorrow. “Bit difficult to keep track when the universe is falling apart, though I thought my dearly espoused was rather above the ultimate display of tragic hubris.”

“This isn’t arrogance,” Picard snaps in response, suddenly furious.

The god raises a brow, turns from him for a moment to consult the cosmos; he analyses the situation quietly, eyes falling shut before they wrench open in horror.

“... Oh,” he realises aloud, returning a pitying gaze to his husband. “Well, I was planning to take you for dinner, celebrate our reunion, but... it had to the Borg, of course. It was going to be magnificent, you know. All candles, oysters, Risan teal whiskey - imagine you’ve grown a little weary of the family vintage by now -”

Picard’s internal chronometer, borne of years of starship clockwork efficiency, ticks over to ninety seconds, and he’s kissing him with desperation, with the misery of parting, the anxiety of war, the coldness of a universe where no one else can ever quite understand -

It’s brief because it has to be, given the circumstances, but it’s no less intense for it, shot through on both sides with passion and need and loss and reestablished harmony; they break eventually, slipping back to rest foreheads together, and Q is breathless with pain as he whispers.

“My universe has already shattered once, Jean-Luc.”

Picard blinks against the tears that threaten, the anguish that engulfs him at the very thought.

“It’s the Borg, Q,” he explains simply, voice woven with apology.

“... And it doesn’t count for anything that I could click them to dust, I imagine, stop them threatening anyone ever again?”

He smiles warmly, bitterness rich - not at an entity who has been trying to save his people, he could never be angry at that. He’s trying to do the same, isn’t he? Always has. 

No, life is merely unfair, and it has to end eventually. 

“‘Nothing in his life became him like the leaving it,’” he quotes gently, and a rasp of a sob trips from Q’s tongue.

“Stupid, noble, self-sacrificing idiot,” he breathes, thumb running over the wedding ring unconsciously. “The shen ring, Jean-Luc; you’ve always admired the ancients. The symbol of eternal protection.”

A single tear slips down his cheek, a stammered exhale follows, and he locks eyes to his in true dread. “Please, darling - tell me we can still go for dinner.”

Everything in creation drowns in silence, even as the console roars at him that he’s thirty seconds from death; nothing matters but his words, his long-spoken promise - that his husband absolutely comprehends them.

“I’d be offended we didn’t, frankly,” he whispers. “Haven’t seen you in years, we’re rather overdue a catch-up.”

He kisses his brow tenderly, physically feels the permanence of the relief that bursts through the god; he has to make sure, nevertheless.

“Perhaps tomorrow, we could watch the meteor shower on Tansid VI.” He softly pulls Q’s thumb back to the wedding ring, to the tangibility of what it offers, the vow it proclaims, and runs his own preciously across it. “Croissants. Champagne. Different region, different grapes - I’m not quite bored of that one yet.”

“And the day after?” Q’s voice cracks, brittle as sand.

“Oh, moons of Tanothry Prime, I imagine. Driver’s choice. Though I’d quite enjoy a trip to the Magellanic Clouds, perhaps in a few centuries.”

Another sob, profound this time, raises, stuttered, from his immortal spouse.

“I reserve the right to make it hurt less.”

“Oh, please do, my love. My Thoth.”

Q stifles a laugh, so wondrously enamoured. “The Egyptian god of the dead, of magic and wisdom.”

“‘As for Thoth, he crosses the sky in my presence; I pass safely.’“

“Yes, you do,” the deity vows, adoration warming the severity of his features. “Nothing will ever have to hurt you again, darling.”

It’s a strange experience, dying without fear. He’d been so certain, so determined, but so very afraid.

“Ten seconds to impact,” the computer chimes, emotionless.

“I have a dog,” Picard tells his husband, eyes falling closed. “You wouldn’t much like his name.”

Q smiles tightly, clings to him.

“I do hope it isn’t mine,” he replies dryly, and the human chuckles as the ship ignites around them.

“Oh, it’s so much worse.” He beams tenderly at him, braces for impact. “I’ll tell you later.”

“Yeah,” Q breathes, caressing his ring, and together they burn.

[littlemisskookie]

Loveless: Chapter 1

Loveless: Index Ship: Reader | OT7 Description: Spy/Men in Black!AU | You worked at an institution that dealt with aliens- aliens that were the fictional creatures we were told were from fairy tales. The job entailed love only for it, and nothing else. That’d all change when a mission goes wrong. Warnings: Future Smut, Mentioned Smut, Gore, Violence, Death, Sexual Tension, Bad Comedy Word Count: 6,348

Let's get one thing absolutely clear: aliens are real and they walk among the Earth.

They have for eons, really, swooping down on our little planet to play a visit or reside temporarily, typically hiding in plain sight or beneath humans' noses. The times they were discovered, though, alluded to a lot of ancient folklore and paranormal sightings.

Vampires? Aliens. Sensitive to sunlight and needing blood to sustain themselves, they went to Earth, a small clan that wreaked enough havoc to start a horrible movie franchise centuries later.

Ghosts were more common, mainly harmless save for the small group of "poltergeists". In reality, they were aliens from a planet that had become destroyed, resulting in their migration to your planet. Humans tended to latch the familiar onto them once they were sighted, confusing them with their own dead and such, or even creating mysteries surrounding them.

Loch Ness monster? A true monster that had been dumped from its home planet to Earth.

Demons? They originated from a fiery hellspawn of a planet, led by their leader Lucifer to your planet. Because of their horrifying appearance and deadly habits, they earned a bit of a bad rep, becoming intertwined with stories of religion. They were perhaps the most asshole of the immigrant aliens on Earth.

Fairies? One of the more diverse races, from pixies to dwarves, they had as many different races as humans did. Gnomes, banshees, leprechauns, brownies, hobgoblins, gnomes, and more. Some dwindled over time, however, due to natural selection.

There were some beasts that were raised in the wild or as pets by the aliens, from dragons, griffins, unicorns, pegasi, and more. The dragons were the hardest to tame, though, as they were the wildest by nature. That is why they are shown in both Asian and medieval European culture.

Mermaids were from the same planet as the Loch Ness monster, the great drought of 1488 BC bringing them to Earth. It was perfect, seeing as 3/4ths of it was covered in water, soon to be more with the rate of global warming.

Werewolves were one of the few that could attempt to live among humans, their appearance far closer save for the full moon. Some speculated that the reason for this was because the more human of their kind decided to mate with the dog-like beasts of their planet, and for them their genitalia was compatible.

There were far more where that came from, many continuing to flow in even now. They couldn't reside in the public with humans, however. Throughout history, there had been one thing that humans kept consistent: ignorance. If they couldn't even accept their own species for the color of their skin or their own preferences, how could one expect them to accept the foreign that lived amongst them?

And so there was one section that dealt in that aspect of Earth. A secret international organization that dealt with the affairs of humans and aliens alike, monitoring the immigration and crime and whatnot. Manage, monitor, and hide. That was the profession of the EAA- Extraterrestrial Affiliation Agency.

Where you happened to work, as it turned out.

They recruit only the most talented, lethal, and brilliant of agents to join the agency. Those who have exemplified skills that could bring them above and beyond, spies that could trick and fight anyone and anything, no matter how many arms. So prestigious, in fact, that there were never more than 26 agents at a time. From the ones filling the places managing to stay alive or those dying out quickly. They only accepted the best of the best, but sometimes even they found their betters.

They also only accepted those truly willing to commit. This meant no personal lives outside of the agency. All men were expected to get vasectomies, and women to get their tubes tied. Children were a distraction. No serious relationships inside or outside of the agency, though flings could be allowed. Should one even consider the possibility of love with someone or break the rule, they'd be invited out of the agency with their memories wiped. Relationships were a distraction. One must even fake their death to their family and friends, forbidden from having contact with them. They were a distraction. Love was a distraction.

Everyone within the agency was young. Young enough where they wouldn't be able to miss anything once they abandon their lives. Young enough to want to join a special task force that would make them feel at the top of the world, almighty and all powerful. In their physical and mental prime. No one had to worry about growing out of the job, either. That was fine, though. Another condition was to be willing to die for one's planet no matter what.

You yourself were Agent Q, your code name out of the alphabet. You specialized in the more so spy aspects of the jobs, remaining invisible and acting deceitfully in order to obtain information. Cold and cunning, you had learned long ago that the true trick to being a spy was in the acting. You had learned how to skillfully slip into any persona or personality, up to the point where you forgot which one you really had.

You had caught the eye of the agency when you were far younger, just beginning adulthood. You were a master of deceit, getting into both the FBI and CIA, at some point even forging a British identity to get into MI5.

All of it was considered training, however, when you were recruited for the EAA. Government agencies certainly had a thing for three digit acronyms. You were certainly one of the top agents, if not the top, excelling in each area applicable. Not to brag, but you had saved the world perhaps half a dozen times, whether it was Incubi who were attempting to seduce the leaders of the world to their every whim in an attempt to rule Earth or a group of yeti who were trying to escape Anartica by hijacking one of the traveling planes and causing a rampage in New Zealand. That was one of the many reasons why no one was allowed to fly over the South Pole, per international law.

You remembered your first few weeks as an agent, your mentor being none other than one Kim Namjoon, otherwise known as Agent B. At the time he was on the cusp of celebration, finally arranging a treaty between the zombies and satyrs, two species that had disgusted each other since the beginning of time. Pesky creatures.

Namjoon specialized in the more analytical parts of the job. He could see through anyone's lie with a mere glance. He easily had one of the highest IQs within the agency, which was saying a lot for an agency of your caliber. No one was by any means average in any area. Except for dick size- you knew personally. Namjoon was one who could do the math on the likelihood of immediate death within a second, and every prediction and calculation he had made turned out true. A god's death? Correct. The following plans for a pact of golems planning to invade Hong Kong? Easy. Which species humans could strike a reasonable deal with, perhaps reaping the benefits of their resources? Done. It was even said that he once outsmarted Death himself, though it was really an alien that originated the legend of the Grim Reaper.

He was a good mentor, letting you see how to settle or work around conflict without using trickery or fists. He had opened your eyes to endless possibilities of dealing with people and aliens, even tutoring you on each and every species known to man. Their tells, their weaknesses, their history. One must learn from the past in order to move on in the future. At least that's what the poster in his office claimed. Despite the fact he was barely older than you he seemed to be eons older in wisdom and smarts. You got to learn early on in the missions where you shadowed him.

Even after you excelled past the point of tutoring, you'd spend time with him, knowing each conversation would bring about new information. You still teased him on your first interaction, reflecting back on it in comparison to your well established and current friendship.

The head of the board had brought you down to the main facility, and you were too busy looking around at the creatures you had thought before to only be mythology to notice the handsome man before you.

"Agent B, this is our newest recruit, Agent Q. I expect you to train her until you feel that she is good enough to operate on her own. As a senior agent, I trust you'll train her well. She's excelled in physical combat and the arts of personas, but I'd like for you to specialize on the teachings of the different species as well as alternative routes such as negotiation tactics. Sprinkle in a bit of economy while you're at it."

Namjoon studied you for a minute. "She looks a bit soft for an agent."

You fumed inside but did your best to keep your composure. Still, you couldn't help but quip. "Would that make you hard in comparison? I'm certainly flattered, Agent B, but I would insist that you take me to dinner first."

The head of the board showed no reaction, instead turning away. "I'll leave you two to it."

You were left alone staring at your tutor, the man showing no reaction to your quip. Instead, he simply smirks, as though amused rather than offended. "Sense of humor, huh? Let's just hope that doesn't die along with everything else around here."

He begins walking, and you trail after him, right on his tail. "You're not that much older than me- how is it that you're already a senior agent?"

He laughed at that, dry rather than finding it humorous. "Agent Q, around here 30 is considered old enough to retire. Ancient, even."

"Well you know the saying," you sighed, "'I'm here for a good time, not a long time.'"

Namjoon's laugh was outright that time, genuine and boisterous, the smile reaching his eyes. He looks at you with a sincere amount of newfound fondness, patting your head jokingly, ruffling your hair in the process. "You're cute, you know that? Real cute. Smart mouth on you, too. Perhaps we need a bit of that around here."

"I told you before, Agent B, take me to dinner first before you try to get into my pants."

God, whenever you teased him about that he'd still get so flustered, leaving you with tears in your eyes and aching cheeks from smiling so much. Truth be told, you had a bit of a crush on Namjoon for the longest time. You never pursued it, however. You figured that through the training and tutoring he had seen you as nothing more than a little sister. Besides, flings were the most that were allowed, and you knew that if you were to sleep with Namjoon you'd fall. What was there not to admire? So you simply kept that bit of information to yourself, instead referring to him fondly as Agent Bitch whenever he said something to erupt butterflies in your stomach.

He wasn't the only one who had sent you in a daze, though. Perhaps it was the fact you couldn't interact with anyone outside of missions, which usually ended with them dead. Or maybe it was the fact that so many of the male agents around you happened to be extremely young and attractive, as hot as they were lethal.

Take Hoseok, for example, Agent A. (Agent Asshole when he was being a bit of a snippy prick.) He had been in the agency the longest. The way it had happened was quite amusing, too. One of the entrances to the base was disguised as an antique hat shop. A robot ran the place, an old lady by the name of Barbara.

She'd ask anyone the question who walked in, "What brings you to a tacky little hat shop like mine?"

The answers would vary, and anyone with the wrong answer would simply be treated as a regular customer, but the answer would be, "Because I like Howl's Moving Castle."

How was the EAA supposed to know that a little boy would say that?

And so a little boy, no more than ten, had gotten swept down to a base full of mythological creatures and men and women in black suits. Instead of wiping away his memories, however, the board saw an opportunity, in the young boy. He was an orphan, meaning no one would miss him. If they could train an agent from the age of ten, who knew how skilled they'd become? Perhaps he'd give way to more of his kind in the future.

And so in a sense, they adopted him into their agency, the boy donning a black suit similar to the adults around him, handling guns and speaking to species of all kinds. Years later and he was by far the most skilled agent in all of EAA, even set to inherit it in the future, acting as a future leader. This was the only life he knew. His specialization was in assassinating, desensitized to the screams and pleas of victims, alien or human, that he'd become a cold-blooded killer within a millisecond. Outside of the job, the boy was bright and bubbly, still rather childish in nature, though you suspected it was because of the childhood that was stolen from him. When you mentioned the cruelty of him being taken to a place like this at such a young age, practically groomed, he grew frustrated, angry with you and refusing to discuss the matter further. You respected his wishes, but you knew he had wondered what would've happened if he had simply said something else that day. Perhaps he'd be normal. He had every species' blood on his hands.

You remember the first time you had partnered with him. It was a straightforward kill mission. Make it clean, not sloppy. Hoseok's specialty. It had been for a political leader of the ogres, urging many to come out of hiding to live among humans, accepted or not. Whether or not his morals were correct, it wasn't something you could risk. The best way to resolve the question was to take him out, as negotiation wasn't an option. The ogre, 10 feet tall, was rather violent, killing the last two agents who had come to try to strike a deal.

You had known Hoseok for a while by now, though you had never seen him in action. You were so confused as to how this man could be a supposed killer, with the highest body count in the entire agency's history. He seemed to kind to be raised from childhood as a cold-blooded killer. He seemed to loud to be a spy, hiding in the shadows. He wasn't at all what you expected. You liked him a lot for this, truthfully, another silly crush. He was more light-hearted than the bastards that ran this place, and you couldn't wait for him to inherit the place. You couldn't imagine him being as cold as them.

That was before that day, however.

It was your first mission without Namjoon, your training just finishing. The board thought it'd be best to keep you with partners for now as you gained footing, perhaps learning more in the process. You were ecstatic that it would be Hoseok, doing a yell of glee once you were in private. You two had snuck into the bedchambers of the ogre, deep in a cave near the Pacific. You had snuck past the guards easily, quiet as you stayed in the corners, distracting them from their posts. It was easy, really. After Namjoon's lessons on each species, you had perfected each mating call to a T, so much so that you prided yourself in getting even a two-inch pixie to want to bone you. With the echoes of the cave, it was known that it'd take the ogres more than enough time to search for the mate in question.

You stood over his form, quiet, listening to his snores. You looked to Hoseok, his eyes trained on the ogre's chest rising up and down, the final breaths he'd be taking. "So should we wake him up? Give him one more chance-"

Hoseok didn't give you time to respond, pressing a specialized ray to the ogre's forehead and firing. The body lit up with electricity, bright blue as it convulsed and twitched, jerking wilding on the bed. You smelt burned and charred flesh, the ogre's body slowly darkening as Hoseok continued to fry him. Finally, it stopped, and you looked to Hoseok in horror, his eyes cold.

He simply held out his hand. "Dagger."

Ah, that's right. Ogre's still had to have at least one of their hearts cut out after being burned. With shaky hands you give him the dagger, frozen as you watch him plunge the knife into the corpse's chest without hesitation, expert cuts that let him carve the large organ out, almost as though he were scooping ice cream. The entire time he wore an indifferent expression, almost as though he were bored.

The color drained from your face. You knew everyone had this sort of side to them- cold. You should've known- even you did. You killed a few yourself, even back in the public government agencies. Then why did it shock you so much to see Hoseok's side? The same man who would do funny faces or dances in attempts to cheer you up after long drills? Who pinched your cheeks seeing the newest agent?

Hoseok held the heart for a minute, the organ still beating ever so slightly in his palm. He squeezed it as its insides gushed out, spilling onto the floor. You stepped back, letting him drain its contents, what was once someone's life.

He dropped it to the floor, grinding it with his foot as though to rub it in the dirt. "Alright, I suggest we leave now. Lord knows the ogres outside will be pissed seeing their boss dead, and sexually frustrated on top of that."

You say nothing, following him out, in the shadows. You can only stare at the back of your head, slowly processing what happened. It was only on the getaway boat that Hoseok seemed to sense something was off.

"Are you alright, Agent Q?" He seemed like himself again. Kind. Concerned. Caring. Human.

"I just... I was just surprised."

He furrowed his brows, confused. "I thought you knew that was how you kill an ogre? You've killed a few aliens with Agent B, I'd figure you'd expect stuff like that."

"I mean, I know but... I..." You bury your face in your hands. "God, it's so stupid. I feel like an idiot."

"What is it? You can tell me." He reaches forward to hold your face in his hands, but you flinch. He catches wind of it, his voice quiet. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No! I just... God this sounds so dumb. It's because it's you," you whisper, feeling guilty that you're making him feel bad. "I know your history and your reputation, but I never could quite believe it, you know? Everyone here can be cold or desensitized, even I am at times. You're so happy and loud and lively I guess I just thought you were different."

"Oh." He's quiet at that, following your words. Processing them. "I'm still the same Hoseok, you know."

"Of course I know! Nothing can change that. I guess it subverted my expectations. You did nothing wrong, Hoseok, really. It was my fault for being naive and ignorant. I should've seen it coming. It's part of the job, after all. It was a kill mission and nothing more. You were just doing your job."

He nods slowly but says nothing. This time it's your turn to hold his face, making him stare you in the eye. "Hey," you say, "it means nothing to me, ok? I'm just still getting used to this job. It's not you, I swear."

He licks his lips slowly, hands coming up to yours. You can feel the ogre's blood on his fingers, still warm. You say nothing.

"I guess I never thought about it much before. I've been doing this since I was ten. I should've been more mindful of your reaction."

"Agent A, absolutely not!" You let your thumb caress his cheek. "We'll have to do a lot more of that. Best to get used to it now, right? You're still kind and caring and sweet. You're still my friend."

For the first time, you could swear you saw an agent begin to tear up. You were sure however that it was a trick of the light.

He squeezes your hands, letting his head hang low. "I'm your friend?"

"If you want to be," you smile. "You're still the Hoseok I and everyone else adores. I wouldn't have you any other way."

He looks up at you, and you swear his eyes are shinier than usual, glassy almost. "Thank you, Agent Q."

"Please, call me Y/N. Agent Q was my mother's name," you smirk, earning a hearty laugh from him.

After that mission you had grown closer, your following missions running far more smoothly. You communicated a lot better, but you always noticed how Hoseok would look to you before killing the target, as though asking for your permission. In response you'd always place your hand on his shoulder, a weak attempt to pour your support into him.

It wasn't long after that that Namjoon got his next trainee. A young man by the name of Taehyung, easily one of the most gorgeous men you've ever seen. Apparently, he had heard about your agency and had gone out searching for it. How he wasn't caught and had his memories wiped was beyond you, but as usual, the agency found usefulness out of those who came to them. It impressed them, which was saying something.

You had hopped into Namjoon's office, giddy at the news of his newest student. Admittedly you were a bit unprofessional, barging in to get an eyeful of the boy. "I hear Agent B's got a new apprentice!" you say. The boy had been here for three days, but you were shooed away by others who insisted you'd scare him off or intimidate him. Truth be told you were sure they'd think you'd want to jump his bones the second you saw him- and you couldn't deny it. The man was the definition of beauty. The moment your eyes landed on him you were stunned, eyes wide. "Holy shit."

Namjoon sighed, running a hand down his face. He knew this was inevitable. "Hello to you, too, Agent Q. I'd like to introduce you to Agent V, our newest recruit. Agent V this is the one I most previously trained, a major pain in the agency's ass."

"Oh please, Agent Bitch, he's more than welcome to call me Y/N." You smile at Agent V, his eyes trained on you, and truth be told you enjoyed the attention from the handsome man. "What made you want to pursue a place like this? Were you a huge Star Wars fan when you were younger or something?"

Taehyung smiled weakly at that, a rectangular smile you couldn't help but melt at. "I've been dreaming about this sort of thing my entire life. I was considering joining the CIA, but I came across the extraterrestrial, and long story short it led to you."

You laughed at that. "CIA's for pussies anyway. I should know. The pay isn't that good either. I specialize in identity and personas, essentially the best actor in this entire cult they call an agency."

"Oh, I specialize in weaponry," he says, taking your outreached hand to shake it.

"Weaponry?" You quirk a brow at that, looking to Namjoon.

"He can take a rock and a stone and make it a Sonic Blaster 5000. Kid's impressive."

"I'd think so, seeing as he's here." You turn to him, winking a bit as you give his hand a firm squeeze. "I look forward to working with you, Agent V. Maybe you can make me a few other kinds of weapons."

"He's not going to make you a vibrator, Agent Q. Now will you please annoy someone else?" he huffed, shooing you out.

"It was worth asking-" You didn't get much else out as he proceeded to slam the door in your face. That was fine, though. You ended up working with Taehyung on various missions and even heard from Namjoon about the young man's crush on you. You were flattered of course but never pursued the mutual attraction in fear that he'd fall for you in turn. You never let his tiny crush on you get in the way of friendship, dubbing him with the name of Agent Vagina on a mission to Greece, where you'd interact with many of the creatures from Greek Mythology (a subject you were thankful you passed back in school).

There were others, however, who were far more open about their attraction to you.

Take Agent C(unt) for example, AKA Kim Seokjin, specializer in medicine and healing.

You had to admit he was the most beautiful man you had ever seen in your life. You checked out his ass about as many times as he checked out yours, if not more. Even if it wasn't as round as a few other agents, you couldn't help but let your eyes wander whenever he picked something up.

However, Kim Seokjin had to be the cockiest bastard you knew. (Part of the reason you nicknamed him Cunt instead of Cock was to get under his nerves. He was so proud of how much he ate pussy anyway.)

He was hot and he knew it. It was rumored that he got a siren to fall for him, though you wouldn't be surprised if he spread that rumor himself. Some did speculate however that he had some siren blood in him- that or incubus. He was also the biggest flirt you knew, sexual jokes accompanying many of his annoying puns, and you'd never let him know, but you always did your best not to crack up hysterically. He might have the worst dad jokes ever, but you liked them nevertheless.

It was at some point during a mission of kidnapping a local succubus that he wouldn't shut up about letting you borrow her. All while she was tranquilized in the back of the agency's jet, for crying out loud!

"I mean I'm not sure if you swing that way, but I'm sure you can use a good lay, Agent Q," Jin smirked, knowing exactly how to tease you.

"Dear God, Jin, fuck you!" you say, though both of you knew you weren't angry in the slightest.

"You offering? I mean I'll take her place if that's what you want." He wiggled his brows for emphasis.

"Agent Cunt, last I checked you'd fuck anything that walked on two legs."

"Last I checked you walked on two legs."

"You've got to be kidding me," you say, shaking your head in disbelief.

"Come on, Y/N, you know you're attracted to me. Just look at my face!" He takes on hand off the wheel to blow an exaggerated kiss, which you catch and crush beneath your palm.

"As if." You roll your eyes. "Get over yourself, Jin."

"Or you could get under me."

"Ew! You're shameless, aren't you?"

"C'mon, we could do it in your office! Right on your desk! Facetime the bitchy Head of Board while we're at it," he jokes.

Truth be told you would've. Jin was right to say you were attracted to him, and you couldn't picture him as a relationship type. Honestly, the only reason you hadn't jumped his bones yet was to spite him for his arrogance.

There was one coworker who you had a tryst with. An agent by the name Park Jimin, code name Agent P. The man specialized in alien communications, fluent in every language known to man and above. He was one of the sweeter guys in the business, a soft personality everywhere but in bed. You were attracted to him of course- and who could blame you? He was gorgeous. Or maybe it was because you seemed to be attracted to every man in the agency. Nevertheless, it was after a work party, a celebration after winning a battle against the band of gorgons. You had lost five agents in the process, but your agency had to look on the bright side. It could've been more. No one could truly mourn their loss, so they chose to celebrate their achievements.

After all, rule #1. No distractions.

You and Jimin had gotten drunk, and truth be told it was far better than expected. You would've figured you'd given into Jin's flirting that night, but instead found yourself bent over your desk by a completely different man. No facetiming your boss, though, unfortunately.

It did make the mission right after a bit awkward, however, but the two of you agreed that you'd stay friends and eventually the awkwardness faded. Whenever you wanted Jimin to shut up when he was on one of his rants about a coworker, you'd simply tease him about the fact he came first. Worked every time, despite the fact that he made it up to you by eating his cum out of you.

You remember the most recent argument when the two of you were arguing over who'd get to convince Lucifer himself to go to a meeting with the agency. Neither of you wanted to do it.

"You speak every language! Maybe speaking in demon will make him a bit more pliant!" Usually you yourself would be up for the challenge, but there was a reason why Lucifer was never depicted wearing clothes. It was always weird for you to look up from his flaccid red willie just swinging about.

"What about you? You specialize in identity and personas- that means you're the best liar in the entire world! You do it!" He argued back.

"No way! One, I prefer to call it acting, not lying. Secondly, man to man would be better. Maybe you can communicate by doing the helicopter."

"You're insane! I don't think the wooshing of our dicks in the air is gonna convince him to come to the base and have the director and head of board chew him out for going over the quota of stolen souls."

"It's not like I know how to speak demon talk! I tried and failed. I only speak a little bit of gnome and parseltongue- neither of which he speaks."

"Parseltongue- are you shitting me woman?!" His eyes bugged out of his head.

"Big talk for a guy who blew his load first."

"I swear to god I'll have you cum enough times where you beg me to stop next time, just to get you to shut your trap about that."

"Oooh, Agent P, are you mentioning a next time?" You wiggled your brows, teasing him as his cheeks flushed red. "I'll have to check my calendar! Will this make us official fuck buddies?"

He groaned, burying his face in his hands. "Fine, I'll do it. Jesus Christ."

"Thanks, Jiminie! Just for that, I won't call you Agent Pussy for at least a week," you say, giving him a peck on the cheek out of gratitude.

"Whatever, Agent Quip. You're lucky I like you so much."

That's true. Everyone seemed to like you in the agency- save for a certain Min Yoongi. AKA Agent D(ick). He specialized in torture- an area of the field that you weren't exactly the keenest about.

You two wouldn't have the most friendly of bantering, a bit closer to bickering. He'd get frustrated with you when the two of you were torturing a target, trying to get information out of you. You were annoyed with him because he'd nap through important meetings and never seemed to be listening to anyone. The two of you were archenemies, but admittedly you worked well together.

"Agent Q, would you please look where you're putting that?" Yoongi grumbled, swatting your hands away to take the tool. "Makes me wonder how you made it in here in the first place."

You grimaced, staring at the target. The New Jersey Devil, tied down and carved into, refusing to spit about the whereabouts of its colleagues. "You're one to talk. All you do is nap in your office and during meetings. Your entire specialty is based on sadism."

"You're lucky you're not the one on this table, Agent Q, otherwise I'd have you broken within five minutes," he grumbled back.

"Why Agent Dick, is that a proposition for kinky sex?" you guffawed.

He snorted. "Keep dreaming, baby."

"Pet names now? Such a charmer," you continued, your voice laced in sarcasm as you ran your hand down his back, mainly trying to distract yourself from the scene in front of you. "I knew that mask of annoyance was to hide your attraction to me."

He stiffened, rolling your touch off him. "Rule number one, Agent Q."

"This isn't distracting you, is it?" You toyed a bit with his tie before leaving him alone, taking the tool in hand as you decide to stop bothering him. "Alright, I can handle this bit. I just need to get used to this."

"Be my guest," he says, watching you as you finish where he left off.

It isn't long before you feel his fingers thread up your hair, slender fingers running up your scalp in a smooth massage.

"Yoongi," you breathed, your voice soft.

"What is it?" You feel his hot breath hit your ear from his position behind you. "This isn't distracting you, is it?"

You stiffen as he gets about a fistful, and you anticipate the yank, but it never comes. He lets go, laughing at your tense form, frozen and awaiting his actions. "Figured you'd like a taste of your own medicine," he chuckled.

You shoved him, rolling your eyes. "You're such a dick."

"It is your nickname for me," he smirked, letting you continue your work until the New Jersey Devil began to squeal and kick. "I think it's ready to talk. Bring in Agent P."

It had been a few years after joining the agency that you finally got your own trainee. Jeon Jungkook, Agent Z, nickname pending. His specialty was combat, and he was surprisingly more buff and thick than most of the guys around here, though they weren't anything to scoff at by any means.

He had a softer look in the face than you were expecting from an agent. For a moment you were brought back to the moment you and Namjoon had met. You got it now, especially with his doe eyes and bunny teeth. He looked too pure.

However, the skills he had shown, even beating you in combat to prove himself. In fact, he beat everyone in one on one combat, an effort to prove himself. You should've known by the busted knuckles that he was more than his eyes gave away. You had expected him to be slow, but he was quicker than you. You expected him to be less agile, but you were wrong there too.

And by God, by the end of it, you were ecstatic to work with him.

He had finished battling Seokjin, managing to keep his pretty face intact (thankfully). You had jumped into the fighting ground and flew into Jungkook's arms, who caught you easily. You smiled and squealed like the childish girl you were, pinching his cheeks. "This is my baby everyone! My trainee, mine!"

"You haven't even started training him yet, dumbass!" Yoongi called back.

"Shut up!" you replied, letting Jungkook put you down. "That was amazing kid, really! I'm so excited to tell you everything I know."

Jungkook laughed at that. "You're not at all what I expected an agent to be like."

You rolled your eyes. "I get that a lot. Where'd you learn moves like that anyway? I fought for CIA, FBI, and MI5 and I still didn't beat you!"

"Underground boxing, dad in the military who taught me a few moves, and later on I moved on to the black market. Shady business like that gives you a lot of random fights, and some fight dirty."

"Well I look forward to working with you, Agent Z!" you beamed happily.

It was a few years after that when you got the news that would change your life forever.

"Agent Q, I want you to be leading this mission. There's an unknown form of extraterrestrial beings that have landed on Earth- unlike anything we've ever seen before. I want you and seven others to go out and check on the premises and see these extraterrestrial. We don't know what they're capable of, and can't take chances. I picked the top eight agents in the business. You, Agent A, B, C, D, P, V, and Z."

You had led missions before, sure. But this was unusual. Nothing of this caliber had ever happened, and it shocked you to your very core. New lifeforms? You had only known the species that already resided on this Earth, never before anything new. Also, so many agents? At most, there were three, perhaps five if there was a need for backup. Never eight. Your agency knew to conserve numbers just in case, not wanting to lose too many.

You looked to the Head of Board. "Are you sure you want to send this many agents?"

"We need our very best, and I believe you eight can get the job done. If you can't do it, no one can. You'll be expected to depart in the morning."

"Understood."

[frickfracksnatchisback]

Too Little, Too Late (Monster AU)

Oh boy, here we go again! Couldn’t resist writing some lovely angst/fluff as a gift for @teenytinyhatkid , so here we are! (By the way, if you haven’t already, go follow them! They’re the one who came up with this amazing AU, and they’re an awesome writer/artist! ^^) And if you’re wondering what the prompt is, basically a hangry vamp Snatcher is forced to join movie night and it doesn’t end up going too well. But there’s a good ending this time, so don’t worry! However-

(Warning! Heavy mentions of blood and vampire angst ahead!)

***

“Out of all the movies that we could’ve watched, did you have to pick this one?” Snatcher growled under his breath, for the third or fourth time in a row.

“Oi, at least it ain’t ‘The Wolf Man’...” Conductor piped in, grumbling a bit at Snatcher’s whining.

“Well, you’re right on that one! I don’t have to watch a movie to see an ugly beast. All I have to do is look right next to me!”

“Why ye no good son of a-”

“Shush! I haven’t seen this one before!” Hat Kid lightly slapped both of their arms, receiving a light growl from only Snatcher in return. But she didn’t seem to notice, as she went back to excitingly munching on her popcorn. And Snatcher let it slide as well, crossing his arms and huffing to himself.

“Whatever.”

Snatcher adjusted his position on the couch, slouching more into the cushions. It was a bit difficult considering he was already sharing the couch with four people. Conductor who was on the very far left, Hat Kid sitting in between the both of them (so as to break up any sudden fights), and Crowley sitting right next to him quietly. Very quietly, since Crowley had scooted as far away from Snatcher as he was able to. The only other person who was with them was Mu, who had already passed out halfway into the movie and was now snoring on the floor.

He did have a point though. Out of all the days that they could have monster movie night, did it have to be this one? The one day where he was absolutely starving? One, he was out of blood bags. Two, online dates had been harder to come by, which was usually his fail safe option for food. And three, no matter how many times he asked, there was no way that he had been able to feed off of Crowley. And that might have been the reason why Crowley was acting so tense around Snatcher lately. And it was driving Snatcher crazy. The way he could heard Crowley’s heart beating so clearly and quickly too. Pounding non-stop in his head...

Snatcher let out a hiss of pain, rubbing his forehead. And at this, Crowley immediately startled, his heart rate spiking even more for a quick second. But Snatcher’s eyes snapped open anyways. Now, it was almost like he could hear the blood rushing in Crowley’s veins. A gushing, squishy noise that was oh so tantalizing-

Snatcher quickly put some of his fingers in his mouth and began to gnaw on them. It certainly hurt, with his now sharpened fangs piercing into his flesh. But to distract himself from the pain and hunger, he grabbed a bit at his hair, tugging on it. Crowley gave his an odd, if not slightly worried, glance for a moment. But Snatcher was used to that by now. He was well aware of what he was doing. And yes, he was well aware of what he looked like by now. Dark bags under his eyes, messier hair than usual, constantly drooling and biting all the time, his body having slight tremors. But he kept in mind that at least CC said she would be back with some blood bags for him soon. Soon...

But one thing was for sure, this movie certainly wasn’t helping.

Snatcher groaned again, as a woman’s scream could be heard from the television. The movie, which just so happened to be Dracula (of all things), had come to a scene where the poor defenseless victim was trying to escape from the vampire. And as he kept on watching, Snatcher could feel himself biting on his fingers harder. Before he could bite them off however, he began grabbing onto his shoulders and squeezing them tightly. He could seen the “vampire” appearing on screen now. Of course, it was nothing but some putz in a cape and pale white makeup. And oh boy, did those “fangs” of his look terrible. But even he had to admit, something about this guy was somewhat similar to himself. Like the way he bared his “fangs” and hissed, hiding in the shadows and stalking his prey in the darkness. Coming up from behind, closer and closer until-

Snatcher’s eyes widened, as Dracula had managed to capture his prey and hungrily chomped down on her neck.

“OH COME ON!” Snatcher yelled out angrily, making everyone close to him jump in surprise. Except for Mu, who only twitched a bit in her sleep and rolled over to her side.

“Snatcher...are you alright?” Hat Kid gave him a curious glance, reaching for his hand. But Snatcher could feel himself panic, as he noticed could hear her heartbeat as well. Clear, small, but loud as ever. And he quickly realized the danger of this, jerking his hand away from her touch.

“I’m fine” he lied, catching himself almost hissing.

“Ye sure about that, laddie? Yer actin’ worse than when Grooves watched ‘Frankenstien’ with us last movie night!” Conductor mused, a smug grin appearing on his face. And he chuckled a bit, remember just how ticked off Grooves had been about the movie. But Snatcher didn’t find it as amusing.

“I-I don’t think the movie’s that bad...” Crowley finally spoke up. “I mean...it’s perfectly fine if you’re offended by it, Snatcher. I get it if-” he gave an awkward smile while rambling, before noticing that everyone was staring at him. “...N-never mind. I’ll be quiet.” he pulled up the cuff of his trench coat, trying to hide himself in it. The others silently went back to the movie, except Snatcher.

“No, no, keep going. If anything, you’re actually helping.” Snatcher said, in a not-all-amused tone. But he was slightly telling the truth. Crowley’s ramblings had blocked out the sounds of the movie for just a moment, distracting him from what was currently happening on screen. Yet he found that he had spoke too soon, with Crowley giving him a nervous but pleased grin.

“Oh! Well it’s actually quite fascinating! With such an old representation of vampires and all, it does make you wonder if vampires really existed by the time this movie was in production! And I feel as though-” the rest of Crowley’s words were drowned out to Snatcher, as Crowley began rambling like a true monster hunter. Or a huge nerd, Snatcher thought to himself bitterly, as he pretended to listen to Crowley go on and on about “vampire culture”.

“Uh-huh. Sure. Totally agree with that.” Snatcher would say occasionally in a dreary voice, somehow fooling Crowley into thinking he was actually paying attention. Part of him wondered if this was really better than watching the movie for a second. He could feel his eyes becoming heavier, and he couldn’t help but yawn. Even on an empty stomach, sleep didn’t seem so impossible right now. And he hadn’t been able to get any for quite some time. So his eyes slowly started closing, as he felt himself absentmindedly staring at Crowley’s long neck, instead of processing any of what he was babbling on about. Crowley didn’t seem to notice though, as he kept talking to Snatcher, unaware.

“I just find it surprising that such things of the supernatural kind can affect the human sub-culture and-” Crowley suddenly stopped talking, feeling his nose twitch. “A-and. Ah! Ah-”

“AH-CHOO!” Crowley sneezed loudly making everyone jump. Even Mu, who was startled awake, letting out a sleepy and annoyed growl afterwards.

“IwaslisteningIswear!” Snatcher woke up panicking.

“Bless you!” Hat Kid, Mu, and Conductor said in unison, in their own way of course. And Snatcher sat there confused, until he saw Crowley holding his nose. But there was something...off about him, as Crowley almost seemed to be holding his nose in pain.

“Ow, ow, owww...” Crowley whined, confirming Snatcher’s suspicions. “My nose...ow.”  Snatcher wasn’t even surprised when he saw Crowley begin to tear up.

“What ye cryin’ about, lad? It can’t be that bad.” Conductor grumbled, without a hint of concern in his voice.

“Oh goodness...d-does anyone have any tissues? I think I’m having a-”

Snatcher perked up, as Crowley slowly removed his hands. And he immediately froze, not moving a muscle, as he stared at Crowley with blank eyes. Blood. Red, dripping, and plentiful blood came pouring out of Crowley’s nose in tiny streams. Some of it even coated his hands, just tiny droplets and smears, which Snatcher was quick to notice. And to Snatcher, the blood seemed brighter red and smelled stronger than it actually did. He could hear Crowley’s heartbeat again, the thumping of his heart and blood rushing through his veins at a faster pace now. And it kept on getting louder.

“...nose...bleed...” Crowley’s words trailed off, as he noticed Snatcher staring at him now. And he quickly realized that maybe revealing his nosebleed to the starving vampire wasn’t such a good idea. He shrank back as far as he could on the couch, seeing that Snatcher’s eyes had reduced to only slits and were glowing now. And his mouth slowly turned up into a snarl, revealing sharp pointed fangs, ready to bite. “Uhhhh...haha! Q-quick question, Snatcher!” Crowley began to laugh awkwardly, even though Snatcher wasn’t listening, and gulped before asking. “W-when’s the last time you fed on-”

“Ah wouldn’t ask that if ah were you, lad.” Conductor said bluntly. He was simply staring at the television, not even acknowledging what was happening over at Crowley’s end. Unlike Hat Kid and Mu, who were both alerted by Crowley’s fearful expression. “Ye rile him up like that an’ he’s gonna-”

As if on cue, Snatcher let out an inhuman growl and shoved Crowley off the couch.

Everything turned into chaos. Before he even knew what was happening, Crowley fell on his back and hit the wooden floor with a thud. Hat Kid quickly started to panic, dropping her popcorn bowl and letting it spill onto the floor. And Mu began to bark fiercely, getting Conductor’s attention along with Hat Kid’s scared shouting. But Snatcher paid no attention to it. To him, all of it was meaningless noise. And in a swift moment, he got off the couch and lunged for Crowley. His knees crushed some spilled popcorn underneath him, but it was all so fast he didn’t even notice.

But Crowley noticed, as the sound almost signaled that he was in deep trouble now. Though it was too late to escape, he tried scrambling back up, only to be pinned down by clawed hands grabbing his wrists. The back of his head hit the floor with force, and he groaned his pain. But it was cut short, as he noticed Snatcher’s shadow looming over him. With nervous sweat pouring down his face, he slowly turn his head to look up-

Only to find himself eye-to-eye with a true monster.

The dark circles under Snatcher’s eyes seemed to enhance their yellow glow. His fangs seemed bigger, as drool leaked from the sides of his mouth. His hair, ragged and unkempt, made him look even more like an animal...or a beast. Crowley tried to struggle, but Snatcher painfully strengthened his grip.

As the other three screamed for Snatcher to “snap out of it”, everything seemed to move in slow motion to him. While Crowley was staring up at Snatcher, his heart practically beating out of his chest, all Snatcher could see was veins. Big, juicy veins filled to the brim with sweet crimson. Everything else, near and outside of his vision, was darkened to pitch black. The only thing that mattered now were Crowley’s multiple veins, all connecting to his still-beating heart. They glowed a bright, piercing red, enticing Snatcher to bite them. Tear into them. RIP INTO THE FLESH AND DRAIN THEM-

And Snatcher mindlessly obliged, sinking his teeth into Crowley’s neck.

It all happened in one, lightening fast movement. Crowley let out a shrill, shriek of pain, as Snatcher’s fangs felt like small daggers cutting into his neck. Hat Kid joined him, screaming and wailing for Snatcher to stop. But he didn’t stop, and instead hastily started sucking on Crowley’s wound, which was now filling up his mouth with fresh blood. It was warm and delicious, if slightly gamy. (Since Crowley was still a Werebeast, after all) But Snatcher didn’t mind. All he wanted to do was feed. Slowly, slowly feed on the living morsel-

Conductor had gotten up from the couch, as he kicked Snatcher in the ribs. Snatcher could almost hear the old man’s yelling through his haze, as he went for another strike lower at his mid-section. It only perturbed him for a moment though, as he growled while feeding, a small bit of blood dribbling out of his mouth. But Snatcher didn’t let it bother him too much. He was almost numb to the pain as he continued feeding on his still squirming, still breathing, still screaming prey. And he wasn’t planning on stopping, until all the blood was sucked dry.

That is, until Mu bit down hard on his leg.

Snatcher quickly let out a yelp of pain, removing his mouth from Crowley’s neck. And it was all the time that Crowley needed to get away. He pushed Snatcher off of him then gave him a, slightly flimsy, punch to the face. And Snatcher certainly wasn’t expecting it, as he was knocked back onto the floor. Mu quickly let go of Snatcher’s leg, and Crowley scooted as quickly and as far away from Snatcher as possible. But after a moment of silence, it seemed like Snatcher wasn’t getting up. His eyes were closed, blood still dripping off of his mouth, and his fangs still clearly visible. And while he simply laid there, everyone had a chance to catch their breath.

“Is everyone okay?!” Hat Kid whispered fearfully, drying the tears from her eyes.

“No, you dummy! Snatcher just went crazy!” Mu nearly screamed.

“Oi! Quiet, the both of ye!” Conductor snapped at the two, and they quickly shut their mouths. He turned to Crowley, who was holding onto his still-bleeding neck. “Are ye...alright there, laddie?” Conductor muttered, almost out of breath and secretly worried about Crowley. But Crowley just gave him an annoyed glare in return.

“Oh, I’m just peachy.” Crowley growled, before hissing in pain while holding his neck with both his hands. “I mean, I’ve only been bitten by a vampire and nearly had the life sucked out of me! I’ll be just fine!” he nearly shouted. Until he saw Conductor’s surprised, and almost hurt, look. He shrank back in a mix of fear, guilt, and shame. “I-I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over-”

“It’s fine, lad.” Conductor put up a hand to stop him. “Ah...ah think we’re all a lil’ on edge after what just happened. Ye should be more concerned about...uh, cleanin’ yerself up.” he gestured as Crowley’s wound. And all Crowley could do was give a shaky smile and nod, while trying to stand himself back up. Conductor wasn’t paying attention though, and was looking down at Snatcher instead. “Oh boy. I think ye knocked the poor bum out cold! Don’t think he’ll be gettin’ up until-”

He spoke too soon.

Snatcher’s glowing eyes snapped back open. And seeing him begin to move, both Hat Kid and Crowley let out high-pitched screams. But Conductor and Mu bared their teeth, ready to fight back. Snatcher had managed to prop himself back up, and he looked livid. He snarled and hissed at the group, like a feral creature. His eyes were glowing red now, instead of golden yellow like they were before. His meal had been interrupted. And he hated when his meals where interrupted. Vampire claws tensed as they scratched and scraped on the wooden floor, leaving huge claw marks. His angry, twitching eyes went from Hat Kid, to Mu, to Conductor, back to Mu, then back to Conductor again. Which traitor should he attack first?

But then his eyes trailed to Crowley. His was still holding his neck. It was still bleeding, as Snatcher could see blood leaking out from Crowley’s fingers. His heartbeat could still be heard, pumping loudly, yet it was getting slightly slower. And Crowley looked rather woozy, as he seemed pale and ready to pass out. Which couldn’t have been more perfect for Snatcher. It was easy prey. Slow, weak, and easily reachable prey. And in Snatcher’s mind, even though Crowley was looking rather ill, he had not had nearly enough blood.

Just as swift as he did before, claws sharpened and ready, Snatcher jumped up onto his feet. It caught all the others off guard. And none of them could stop him, as he went to push through them and get to his meal-

“SNATCHER! STOP!”

Snatcher fell back once more, as a wall of fire suddenly burst in front of him. It roared and crackled loudly, immediately snapping him into his senses. And once he hit the floor, his eyes never left the fire as he stared at it in scared shock. He had nearly ran into it, and it would have scorched his flesh before he even made it through. Luckily though, he managed not to become a pile of ash and simply ended up on the floor again. But there was something about this fire that seemed almost familiar…

“...kiddo?” he said weakly, as the fire kept burning in front of him, almost licking the top of the ceiling.

But to his surprise, the fire quickly extinguished itself before him. And it revealed, standing right in front of him, Hat Kid, with the others taking cover behind her. Her form shocked him though. She had created the wall of fire, as he noticed she had turned into her true form. An imp. Scales of red adorned her skin, her hat and been fallen off to shown her small horns, her tail was also visible behind her, and her slit eyes glowed with power and anger. But...he quickly noticed the anger in her eyes burning out, just as the magic fire had, being replaced with sadness. Tears, which almost seemed to be glowing gold, welled up in her eyes as she looked at Snatcher.

And now that Snatcher was finally out of it, his eyes shifting from the imp child to the friends behind her, it was all clear now. He realized, with dread forming inside him, just what he had done. But it was too late, as Hat Kid ran into the hallway towards her room, sobbing.

“W-wait! Kid! I didn’t mean to-” Snatcher started, trying to get up so he could reach for her before she left. But he was cut off by the sound of a slamming door. He just stood there in the silence, with the others carefully watching him. And for a good moment, he did nothing. Until he suddenly started slamming his fists against the floor.

“Idiot! Idiot! IDIOT!” he paused in between pounding his fists in anger, gritting his teeth. Then, just as quickly as he started, he stopped, his back hunched over the floor. His eyes weren’t visible to the others, with his messy hair blocking them. But if the others could see them, they would be able to see Snatcher blinking away tears.

“Okay...so is no one going to tell me what the peck just happened?!” Crowley broke the silence, surprising everyone by cursing aloud.

“What are ye going on about?”

“Um?! Hello?! The little one just made a giant fire in front of all of us?! She had horns, and a tail, and-”

“Oh yeahhh. I guess we forgot to tell ye about that.” Conductor paid no mind to Crowley’s panicking.

“Wh-?! Forgot to tell me about what?!”

“Don’t worry about it now, lad. Go. Clean up.” Conductor said bluntly, slapping Crowley’s on the back so he could to get a move on. And Crowley did so, carefully heading towards the hallway. But not before keeping a close eye on Snatcher in case he decided to get up again. “That goes for you too, lassie.” Conductor said after nudging Mu with his foot. And she gave him an unsure glance, before huffing and bounding over towards her room as well. He almost thought he could hear her saying something under the lines of “no fair” in the hallway. But he quickly waved it off once he heard the door to her room squeak open and shut close.

Once Crowley and Mu were out of sight, Conductor walked up to were Snatcher was.

“I bet yer real proud of yerself, huh?” Conductor spat out, with a hateful venom in his voice. And he could see Snatcher tense up at his words. “Ye finally got what ye wanted. Are ye happy now? Ye better be, otherwise ah’ll be the one to-”

“Shut. Up.” Snatcher hissed, still not looking up. But Conductor simply kept staring down at him.

“Oh? What, ye feeling guilty now? Admit it, ye enjoyed that-”

“SHUT UP!” Snatcher roared at him, startling Conductor. He looked up, not caring that Conductor could see the burning tears in his eyes, or the now drying blood still left on his mouth. “If you think. I wanted any of this to happen. You’re dead wrong.” he growled through gritted teeth. And Conductor was almost at a complete loss of words for a moment.

The sound of the front door unlocking startled them both.

“I’m home! Is everyone alright?” CC called from the hallway with her naturally cheery voice. Her shadow was visible on the walls, as she was steadily coming closer to them. Snatcher could feel his throat tighten in anxiety. He knew what things she would say once she saw inside the living room. And none of them would be pretty.

What on earth happened here?!

Snatcher...what have you done this time?!

The one thing I ask you not to do, and you did it anyways!

I thought you knew better! I thought I could trust you!

Snatcher hastily lifted himself off the floor, making a break for the attic stairs. Conductor noticed this, trying to grab Snatcher before he could make his mistake. But Snatcher was quick to dodge him, weaving his way out of the situation, leaving Conductor to fall to the floor with an angry cry. And Conductor had fallen flat on his face. He almost thought to stay like that, with everything that had happened so far, before remembering that the culprit was getting away.

“WHERE DO YOU THINK YER GOING?!”

Snatcher sprinted towards the hallway entrance, making to run way down the hall-

“CC? Is that y-”

Before bumping into Crowley.

They smacked into each other, almost knocking themselves back onto the floor. Once they got their bearings, however. they both gave each other fearful looks. Crowley noticed the dried blood on Snatcher’s mouth and clothes, and felt his body begin to shudder. And Snatcher couldn’t seem to take his eyes off of the stained cloth on Crowley’s neck, which he had only wrapped haphazardly there. But once Snatcher heard CC coming closer, he let out a helpless groan and was quick to push Crowley out of the way.

“Crowley? Snatcher? Is everything alright?” Snatcher could hear CC ask worriedly from behind him. But he pretended not to hear it, his footsteps thudding loudly up on the staircase leading to the attic. He rushed up them, before any of them could come running after him-

Snatcher swung himself inside his room, slamming the door behind him.

It was quiet up in the attic. The air was still, with the moonlight from a single window bathing the entire room in blue. Snatcher could feel himself shaking, panting for breath. Until he could hear their muffled voices from behind the door, breaking the small silence. He panicked, squeezing his grip on the doorknob. He struggled to lock the door. Then he heard the satisfying snap of the lock, and let out a sigh of relief, before sinking down to the bottom of the floor. He had his back against the door now, resting his head up against it. All the while he could hear bits of their conversation from behind the door. CC’s voice was the clearest of all, with Conductor and Crowley’s speech being hushed.

“Is Snatcher alright? What’s gotten into him?”

“Oh, honey! Your poor neck! What happened?!”

“...wait...don’t tell he actually did it-”

Snatcher could feel the tears falling down his face now, as CC sounded not at all disappointed at him. Not at all angry, or hateful towards him. But worried, sad even, about him of all people. He covered his mouth, letting a shaky whimper become muffled. He tightened his body into a ball, hiding his head in his arms. All the while he shed bitter tears, his breath hitching and hiccuping. He had done this. It was all his fault. But it wasn’t CC or Conductor’s words that had hurt him the most. It wasn’t even the thought of if had actually killed Crowley. The one thing that stuck him, was the look of betrayal that Hat Kid had given him from before.

There was no way he could forgive himself for that.

***

Morning pasted eventually, and the afternoon had come just as quickly. Snatcher didn’t even seem to notice though, as he had his back towards the window. He was curled up in his rickety bed, lying on top of his messy bed sheets. He had only moved from his spot at dawn, to shut the blinds tightly and clean his face off with a few tissues. (As best he could, anyways) Nothing else since then. No other movements. His eyes were sunken and red, but still open. He hadn’t been able to get any sleep last night. And how could he? The others had probably been restless as well. Especially the kid. He must have scarred her for life.

He curled up into an even more uncomfortably tight heap on the bed at that thought. His stomach growled and groaned, like it had been all day. Shut up, Snatcher thought bitterly in his mind. You got what you wanted. Why can’t you just leave me alone? His stomach growled again, as if to spite him. If you think I’m going to go back downstairs just to get some food, you’ve got another thing-

“Snatcher?” a knock at the door grabbed his attention. “Sweetie? Can you open the door please?” he recognized it as CC’s voice. But he didn’t get up to open the door. He simply waited, hoping that she would go away. And to his surprise, there was silence for a short while. “Snatcher, please open the door.” Snatcher groaned at her returning voice, grabbing his pillow and putting it over his head.

“Go away. Nobody’s home.” he grumbled, though she couldn’t hear him since it was muffled. Instead, he heard the unmistakable sounds of her fiddling with the doorknob. He smiled to himself from underneath the pillow, in a strange sort of way. Go ahead, he thought to himself, almost amused. You can mess with that lock all you like! But it isn’t going to-

“Got it! I’m coming in!” CC’s voice filled the room, as the lock came open with a click and the door swung open. And Snatcher’s eyes widened in surprise, with him frantically removing the pillow and looking up to see her. She was giving him a cheeky smile, which is not at all what he was expecting, while dangling a key from her finger for him to see. “Skeleton key.” she replied simply, without him speaking. And Snatcher was pretty much astonished. Did she really just break into his room? In his mind he almost found it funny, if not even laughable.

It didn’t last for long though.

“Whoop-de-freaking-doo.” his bed creaked, as he smacked his head back down onto his pillow. “What do you want? Have you come to scold me now?” the resent in his voice came back again, making CC frown.

“No...I just wanted to check to see if you’re okay.”

“I’m fine.” Snatcher lied, before his stomach growled again, louder this time. He winced as he held his sides in pain, but the feeling slowly subsided. CC looked worried, as always, but he tried not to notice it. “See? Fine. I’m just starving like I always am.” he let out a sigh, closing his eyes so he wouldn’t have to look at her sympathetic face. It became eerily quiet once more.

“...I’m sorry.” CC finally spoke up, breaking the tension.

“Don’t say you’re sorry.” Snatcher groaned in annoyance. “Please. If anything, I should be the one who’s-”

“No. You shouldn’t be.” CC cut him off, her voice cold and stern, which honestly caught him by surprise. “I know it’s hard for you to keep yourself under control. All of us were asking too much of you to leave you with no food like that. I should have been home sooner and-”

“OH, WOULD YOU PLEASE CUT THAT OUT?!” Snatcher stood up in his bed, glaring at her to keep quiet. “Don’t make it sound like I’m the innocent one here! Don’t try to justify it or...or say I didn’t know what I was doing! Because I did, alright?!” he let it all out, grabbing onto the sheets of his bed. But he stopped yelling once he noticed CC face. That same look of pity, one that he loathed yet appreciated at the same time. “Do you know what could have happened? If the others hadn’t stopped me?” he shuddered at the thought, along with CC.

“...did you see the look on the kid’s face?” Snatcher whisper, his grip becoming tighter and the tears from last night returning. CC said nothing, not wanting to interrupt him at a time like this. “She...the way she just...looked at me-” he felt his voice cracking, and took a minute to pause. He wasn’t going to full-on sob, but there was no stopping the tears that fell. “You can’t tell me that’s not my fault. You just can’t.” he didn’t cared that he, a grown man, was crying in front of her. The humiliation could not even compare to the guilt he was feeling right now. CC kept silent, before opening her mouth to speak.

“It’s not your fault.” a different, yet still familiar voice made both of them perk up, stopping CC from speaking. They both looked towards the door, and there was Hat Kid. Standing in the doorway with a firm expression. She was still in imp form and still in her pajamas from last night. How long had she been there?, the two wondered. She then slowly walked over to where Snatcher and CC were, going in the direction of Snatcher’s bed.

“Kid?!” Snatcher quickly went to dry his eyes, wanting to at least have some scrap of decency left. At least in front of the kid. “What are you doing-” he started, before being tackled into a hug. He immediately tensed up, as the small child latched her arms around him. How could she hug him? How?! After everything he did, there was no way she could forgive him!

“I’m sorry, Snatcher.” Hat Kid sniffled, and he suddenly noticed that she had been crying too. “I shouldn’t have picked that movie. I shouldn’t have made you watch it. This is all my fault. I’m sorry.” she whimpered, crying into his shirt. And then realization struck Snatcher, as he finally closed his arms around her to comfort her.

“Shhh, it’s okay, kiddo. It’s not your fault.” Snatcher hummed to her softly, carefully resting his chin on her head. “It’s fine. Everything’s alright. It’s not your-”

“It’s not anybody’s fault.” CC said with a smiled. And to her relief, Snatcher looked up at her and smiled back.

“Right.” he nodded and gave a thin smile, glad that she was still helping.

“So...so you’re not mad?” Hat Kid looked up at Snatcher, with slightly teary eyes.

“Mad? Why on earth would I be mad?” Snatcher nearly laughed, confused as to what she meant.

“Because I almost burned you! I panicked, I didn’t know what I was doing, and you could’ve been-”

“Aw kid, no, no, no! It’s alright! You were just protecting yourself, that’s all.” Snatcher cooed to her reassuringly, which was very unlike him in CC’s eyes. But she didn’t mind at all, as she went to rub Hat Kid’s back with him. “Trust me. You’re the real hero here, kid. If you hadn’t stopped me...” he trailed off while looking in the distance, grabbing both Hat Kid and CC’s attention.

“You didn’t know what you were doing, Snatcher. I’m sure of it.” CC said firmly, putting her other hand on Snatcher’s shoulder. “It’s just like Conductor or Crowley when they shift during a full moon. They can’t control it, and neither can you. But that’s okay.” she smiled at the both of them. “We all know you didn’t mean to.” she finished, and Hat Kid nodded at Snatcher to agree with her.

“Uh-huh! Crowley even said to tell you ‘no hard feelings’!” Hat Kid beamed at him. “Um, does that also go for me too?” she asked hopefully, fidgeting with the collar of her nightgown. And Snatcher simply smiled wide, before hugging her even closer.

“It sure does, kiddo.” Snatcher sighed in relief and squeezed her affectionately, before remembering that CC was still there. “Uh...thanks, by the way. I really needed that.” he said to CC after letting go of the hug. And CC gave him a patient smile back.

“Of course! We couldn’t just leave you all alone up here, now could we?” she said, patting his shoulder in reassurance. Before Snatcher suddenly doubled over in pain, groaning. “But...from the sounds of it-” she began rummaging around in her apron pockets. “-seems to me like you need something else too.” she pulled out a blood bag from one of her bigger pockets, quickly grabbing Snatcher’s attention. But Snatcher didn’t take it immediately. Instead, his gaze switched from the blood bag to her.

“Are you sure?” he asked, very unsure of himself. He was reluctant, and of course he would be. Did he really deserve food, after what he did? But the look on CC’s face, determined and caring as ever, told him that yes. Yes he did.

“Take it. I’m not going to leave you on an empty stomach, I swear on it now.” she insisted, shoving the bag in Snatcher’s direction. Hat Kid even helped, by taking the bag from CC’s hands and pushing it into Snatcher’s chest.

“Alright, alright! I get the message.” he joked, ruffling Hat Kid’s hair for good measure and making her giggle.

He then took the blood bag in his hands, brought it up to his mouth, and slowly sunk his teeth into it. And to his delighted surprise, it was still somewhat warm! He didn’t want to indulge in that too much though, as he didn’t feel all that comfortable feeding with an audience. But hey, he was hungry. And it didn’t seem like either of them were going to leave until he at least got some blood in him. It was strange, but he appreciate the thought nonetheless. He drank and drank, until all the blood was sucked dry from the package. Then he brought his mouth away from it, licking his lips after his meal.

“I have to admit, I needed that.” he let out a pleased sigh, as CC was quick to take the empty bag away from him. “Now...if you two don’t mind, I think I’m going to lay down for awhile.” he yawned, stretching his arms for a moment and feeling his eyelids start to become heavy. But just as he started to crawl back into his bed, Hat Kid grabbed onto him once more. “Uh, kid. I kinda need you to let go of me know.” he said sleepily, trying to pry her off of him. She wouldn’t budge.

“Noooooo! Don’t fall asleep!” she fake pleaded, hugging Snatcher tightly.

“Sweetie, I do think he really needs some rest. Why don’t you come downstairs and we can-”

But the sound of Snatcher snoring lightly cut her off. Snatcher had already fallen asleep, his shoulders sagging and the food coma already set in. Both Hat Kid and CC stared at the sleeping vampire, who was somehow still keeping upright, and giggled to themselves. Hat Kid quickly got off of Snatcher, and both her and CC carefully laid him back down on the mattress. CC even tugged out the cover from underneath him, tucking him into bed just like a mother would. And Hat Kid took off her hat for a moment, rummaging around in it, until she pull out a plain teddy bear. She pushed it into Snatcher, before he instinctively wrapped an arm around it in his sleep.

“Come on, sugar. Let’s leave him alone for now.” CC call quietly to Hat Kid, already walking out the door.

“Okay! Be there in a second!” Hat Kid called just as quietly, before leaning in and giving Snatcher a small kiss on the nose. “Night, BFF!” she whispered, before trotting off to the door and closing it and quietly as she could. And unknown to her, Snatcher open a single eye for a brief moment and smiled.

“Thanks, kiddo.” he muttered quietly, before closing his eyes once more and embracing sleep.

[nobodies-png]

ORG XIII Bullet point lists win. Instant follow. Have you already done a thing about when you [reader] play with their hair. BC BIH I wana get my fingers on Xaldin's sideburns!

hIS SIDEBURNS ? ?  wHAT AN ICON - okay but a lotta dudes in the org have long hair and oH BOY IM JUST HERE LIKE O O F, loVE ME SOME MEN WITH LONG HAIR

also big soz for the inactivity, i’ve been trying to get a lotta drafts done to fill up the queue and empty the askbox wheeze

Xemnas :

You must have balls of steel if you can ask the s u p e r i o r if you can play with his hair without stuttering - but nonetheless, you manage to do it! And you don’t seem to be in any trouble, considering Xemnas’ intrigued grin. “Go on, then” he’d tell you and you’d just stay there unsure like “Uhhh for real ? right n o w?” He probably gets a kick outta this, seeing how far you’ll go before chickening out (like a c o W A R D).

But you’re way too curious to figure out how the fuck his hair works to back out now. While you occupy yourself unraveling the m y s t e r i e s, he’ll merely watch - maybe chat with you . You know how pretty much everyone has a personal scent ? This guy lives up to his title, cause he’s got none. His hair is also super thin so you feel like you’re just trying to grasp n o t h i n g.

Xigbar :

The first thing he does is nudge your side, jokingly asking you shit like “aren’t we a bit too old for that cutesy shit?” while untying his ponytail and making himself comfortable on your lap. W h a t ? It’s not fair that you’re the only one having fun, right ? You can’t help but just roll your eyes at his smug sneer - maybe you should’ve chosen s o m e o n e else for this.

We know how Xigbar is. He’s not gonna shut the fuck up no matter what you do or how many times you ask him - so you just end up having some s a s s y friendly banter, with you pointing out his grey hairs or giving him ridiculous styles while he pretends to be offended. It’s an overall fun time ! Until he refuses to move from his spot on your lap because he’s “too comfortable there”, that is.

Xaldin :

The chances of him willingly letting you get your way are lower than Demyx’s motivation to work. Unless it’s a life or death situation, he’s not going to let you play with his hair - the trick is to ask him when he’s too busy to actually realize what he just agreed to, catching him by surprise. A promise’s a promise, dude, can’t go back on one !

Unlike many others, he won’t let his hair loose just so you can have the pleasure of playing with it. Xaldin will probably give you like 10 minutes cause he has better things to do than to watch you use his hair as a moustache. If you’re brave enough to go for the sideburns, he’d p a n i c and get slightly flustered cause that shit tickles - but he’d try to endure it until you’re done.

Vexen :

I’m torn between Vexen never noticing whenever someone touches his hair cause it’s suuuper long and he just doesn’t give two fucks about it. Or him being hella aware of it cause LONG LOOSE HAIR IN A LAB IS A DANGER HAZARD AND A CATASTROPHE WAITING TO HAPPEN. So I g u e s s I’ll go with the l a t t e r.

Vexen is used to having his hair toyed with because of Zexion (the boy could be a little r a s c a l when he wanted) so he’s not even surprised when you ask him. Well, okay maybe a little. He’d tell you to do as you please, as long as you don’t distract him from work - in the end, he’d enjoy the feeling of your fingers running through his hair ! Maybe he’ll let you do that more often. Y’know, for s c i e n c e.

Lexaeus :

Lexaeus has no problem letting you play with his hair. His only concern is finding a decent position for you to reach his head, without him having to b r e a k his back bending or you having to do some sick parkour. Once that’s settled, you can do whatever you want while he just silently observes or solves one of his puzzle thingies.

Even though neither of you are talking, the atmosphere it’s pretty pleasant and lighthearted. Sometimes you just call out his name from time to time, to make sure he hasn’t fallen asleep lol. Like Luxord, Lexaeus also thinks this situation is kinda comical - like come on he’s the biggest dude in the Organization and here he is, having his hair played with.

Zexion :

At first he’d be startled and cower away in surprise like “e x c u s e me?? WHAT are you doing ?”. Like he’d gladly let you play with his hair, but he’s not used to people touching him so suddenly - just try to give him a heads up the next time. At first it’ll be awkward, cause he just c a n ‘ t stop fidgeting around, extremely aware of the sudden intimacy and closeness of the situation. No he’s definitely not blushing, get some g l a s s e s.

It might take some time for Zexion to get used to it. Mostly cause he feels so n a k e d with the other half of his face exposed - He’ll have his nose buried in his lexicon to avoid eye contact. I can see him totally warming up to the idea and just letting you mess with his hair while he reads a book outloud for the two of you.

Saix :

If you try to ask for permission, Saix will probably say no, so just go for it and pray that he rolls with it. Surprisingly, he does ! Well, more like he hasn’t bitten your hand off - yet. If he’s in a bad mood, prepare for some q u e s t i o n i n g. A half-assed smart sounding explanation will do the trick. If he’s in a good mood, he’ll let you do your thing as long as you don’t distract him too much.

Most likely to purr or just make barely audible b u t hella cute little noises when you play with his hair (i’m getting Saix Puppy flashbacks now, great) You could probably get away with making little cute braids and he won’t notice at all. Try not to be in his field of vision once he does cause he’ll go b e r s e r k on your ass and take away your hair fiddling privileges.

Axel :

Kinda reluctant. He’d poke fun at your eagerness to play with his hair to cover the fact that he’s KINDA embarrassed about this. Probably will let you have your way but only if you two are alone at the Clock Tower - he doesn’t want Xion or Roxas to try and imitate you if they see you. Like come on, there’s a r e p u t a t i o n here to mantain !

Thanks to the latest KH3 trailers we’ve confirmed that his hair is not just a bunch of deadly spikes stuck with hot glue to his head, but instead it’s S O F  T. So yes, playing with Axel’s hair is f u n - even with that permanent scent of fire and burning wood he emits. He likes to see what kind of new style you can come up with. Manbun ? Pigtails ? Braids ? Valid. He’s partial to the low ponytail and will often wear it around the castle.

Demyx

Will strongly refuse at first - mostly cause he puts a L O T of time and gel ever day to perfectionate …whatever the fuck his hair even is. And he doesn’t want you ruining it ! With enough nagging and puppy eyes, Demyx will eventually give in and let you do whatever you want. Okay but his hair has a w e i r d texture with all the products he uses ?

Your hand will probably get stuck there too, so you better wait until like, he takes a shower to wash it all off. THEN you can just play with that fluffy mane. Demyx looks like a completely different person with his hair down, so he’ll be a bit hesitant, afraid you’ll laugh at him - but then he’d discover that he l o v e s when you play with his hair ! He’d pester you to do that whenever you two hang out cause it’s so relaxing.

Luxord :

His first reaction is to just laugh. Well, y’know not a full blown laugh but like a Polite Amused British Chuckle™. W h a t could you possibly want to play with ? He doesn’t have crazy long hair like most of the members in the Organization so he finds this kinda silly - buuut if you’re up for a quick game, he might just indulge you. Only if you win of course.

…Obviously, he lets you win. But you c a n ‘ t really complain about it cause now you get to play with his hair ! Huzzah ! Luxord is a talker, so he’ll just ramble on and on about how endearing and funny this situation is, joking about how lucky you are to have this privilege and b l a h b l a h. You don’t have to worry cause you’ll soon start to hear his light snores.

Marluxia :

Marluxia takes pride in his hair and overall appearance, so he k n o w s how badly you wanna play with that p i n k fluffy mane. If you’re gentle, he’ll gladly grant you the honour of touching it, enjoying your little surprised gasps and hearing you mutter things like ���so fluffy and soft !” under your breath. It doesn’t matter if you’re his S/O, he’ll never tell you his secrets !

But he will give you some unsolicited tips and advice on how to take care of yours cause that’s just how he is. His smug and condescending attitude slowly dissipate as he starts to relax, though. Like the others, he m i g h t start to doze off while you do your thing, but Marluxia will try to keep up his cool façade - brushing you off with the excuse of being busy, with the sleepiest expression on his face.

Larxene :

Y e a h - No. Larxene refuses to be seen without her iconic hairstyle, she’ll let you play with those w e i r d antennae she’s got going on but that’s it. Take it or leave it. You don’t know if this is just normal or if she does it on purpose, but sometimes you feel a little s h o c k whenever you reach out for those two strands of hair. But hey, you’re the only one allowed to get that close to Larxene so, kudos to you.

You c a n, however, play with her hair while she sleeps ! Don’t worry about waking her up, she’s a heavy sleeper. Unless you come in banging pots and shit, she’s not waking up any time soon. Larxene will unconsciously lean into your touch, her face visibly softening while you mess with her thin locks. Just never tell her that you do this or she’ll forbid you from entering her room ever again.

Roxas :

Roxas is c o n f u s e d, he’ll move away on instinct and ask if you were trying to pull a prank on him or if you stuck something to his hair. When you tell him that you just like playing with it because the spikes are fun to touch, he’ll pout and get slightly flustered - but will let you continue anyway. It doesn’t matter how hard you try to mess up his hairstyle, it always returns to it’s original s t a t e. It’s like m a g i c.

Since you started doing that, he’s noticed he has been paying more attention to his hair. Roxas never cared about appearances, but the fact that you like something so specific as his hair pretty much inflates his ego a bit. He’d put a little bit more care into it, spending more time in front of the mirror every morning - lowkey hoping you’d notice.

Xion :

Also confused, but instead of stopping you, Xion would imitate your actions - twirling one of your locks around her finger with an amused smile on her face. After a while she’d innocently ask “what exactly are we doing?” and you’ll have to explain the entire concept to her between laughs.

When you tell her that you like playing with her hair, she’d totally blush and feel a bit self-conscious. What if your hands get tangled in a knot or something ? Did she brush it properly ? Wait - She doesn’t even have to with how short it is ! Maybe she should try letting it grow - But yeah, Xion would l o v e this. She’d sit on your lap or between your legs letting you make little braids and whatever while you two chill and talk during breaks.

[pillowbee]

Building guns and hacking into North Korea

Or, how John Watson meets another secret Holmes sibling, after Eurus Holmes.

--

And right there, nestled up against Sherlock’s pillows and blankets, is a man.

John Watson has known Sherlock Holmes for quite a while now, and can proudly say that he’s seen his fair share of weird things when with Sherlock — but finding a man in Sherlock’s bed takes the cake. Said man is even wearing one of Sherlock’s shirts — the purple one — and this implies that Sherlock cares enough about this stranger’s comfort.

He is definitely younger than John and Sherlock — he’s a skinny, lithe thing, all angles and long limbs; pale with dark hair, but his face is hidden as he’s got a pillow over his head as he sleeps. Various items of clothing lay discarded near the foot of the bed: a mustard sweater, a pair of socks, a tie, an anorak. A nondescript briefcase rests on the floor near the night stand.

John considers the sleeping man for a while more before marching out into the hallway with the requested notebook in tow.

“You have a guest?” he says as he hands over the notebook to Sherlock, who takes it, puts it on his lap, and resumes his Thinking Pose with his fingers steepled together under his chin.

“Hmm,” is all he says. His eyes remain closed.

John peers down the hallway leading to the bedroom. “Will he be staying here longer?”

Sherlock manages something between an exasperated sigh and a groan: “It depends.”

“On?”

Sherlock’s eyes snap open; he flips through the notebook in his lap, fails to find what he wants, tosses the notebook away, pulls his bare feet up so he’s crouching in his chair, and begins to rock back and forth — typical signs of a roadblock somewhere in his genius brain.

“Is he a client?” John presses.

“No he’s not a client,” Sherlock snaps, closing his eyes again.

“Sorry – but did you actually bring your date home last night?”

“Be quiet, John.”

“Right.” John peers again down the hallway, but all is quiet.

Twenty minutes passed on in this fashion, and John has almost entirely forgotten about the stranger (going through the comments of his blog can often do that) when he hears some movement in the bedroom. First, a stifled yawn, then some rustling from the bed sheets, muffled footsteps, and the bathroom door opening and closing. Inside, the taps started to run.

John glances at Sherlock, but the man remains crouched in his chair, eyes closed.

When the stranger emerges from the bathroom, he makes a beeline towards the window and peers out of it. He completely misses John in the chair.

“He’s still there,” Sherlock says, addressing the other man.

“That’s vexing,” says the stranger; he sounds like he really thinks it. He sighs, lets the curtain fall, turns around, and sees John for the first time. “Oh! Dr Watson, I didn’t see you there.”

John stares. He takes in the unruly dark hair, those grey-green eyes behind the glasses, the slim fingers on the hand that is being offered to him. The smile seems genuine, but it’s the stranger’s uncanny resemblance to Sherlock that takes John by surprise – he blinks a couple times more before shaking the proffered hand.

“Right. Sorry – yeah, hi.”

“It’s good to finally meet you,” says the younger man, now positively beaming. “I feel like I’ve known you for so long, like I’ve even met you before, but, ah. Alas, I haven’t actually got the chance to do that before now — work often gets in the way of making a social call...”

“Right,” says John. He glances at Sherlock — nope, still in his Mind Palace apparently — “And you are...?”

“You can call me Q, everyone else does.”

Sherlock scoffs from his seat.

Q shakes his head at this, but there is an amused smile on his face. “Yes, well. Technically I don’t exist, so names can be a bit tricky. It’s Q. Even Mummy’s starting to warm up to it.”

“So let me get this straight,” says John to Sherlock, “you actually have another sibling? Another brother?”

“Brilliant deduction John, as always,” says Sherlock.

“And you’ve failed to mention this to me before now? What, did Mycroft have him locked up somewhere all this while, too?”

While Sherlock makes no response, Q groans and starts to make his way to the kitchen.

“I know, right? Another secret sibling, ugh,” he says, reaching for various tea-making things with enough ease and familiarity that tells John that he’s been here at the flat before. Unconsciously, John’s turned to follow Q into the kitchen. “But heavens, no. I’d go crazy if Mycroft’s decided to lock me up on some island in the middle of nowhere, I think. No, no – I gave my full consent to being a secret sibling. I fact, I very much enjoy being the only secret sibling, you know, until the whole Eurus business blew up in all our faces. A sister! I mean I have wondered what that would be like, to have a sister. Trust Mycroft to keep her hidden away like that — and from me, too!”

“Well if you weren’t too busy building guns and hacking into North Korea, you would’ve noticed a thing or two,” Sherlock mutters from his seat.

Q shrugs a shoulder as if agreeing, but then he says, “How am I supposed to notice things Mycroft has decided to hide away from the world? I’m not the genius consulting detective here.”

John snickers at this, which annoys Sherlock enough that he jumps out of his chair and stalks towards the window.

“So — guns and North Korea? I take it you don’t have a normal nine-to-five job, then?” John asks. “Or...I dunno…do you own a cafe or something by chance?”

Q sighs at this. “No, unfortunately... although the idea of opening a cat cafe has crossed my mind once or twice before. Would be nice. Tea?”

“Oh, ta,” says John, accepting the cup and taking a sip. While this Q character looks like a Holmes and has the subtle mannerisms of a Holmes, his manners so far are nothing like those of Sherlock’s or Mycroft’s. In fact, John is pretty sure that Q’s managed to tick all the boxes when it comes to what society deems ‘proper’ during first introductions: handshake? – check; polite conversation? – check; refraining from invading someone else’s personal space or abducting and bringing them to an abandoned warehouse ? – check.

John thinks he might actually get along with this one just fine.

He’s also not the least bit surprised to find that Q knows exactly how he takes his tea.

(Okay, so maybe Q does exhibit the typical ‘I-know-a -lot-more-than-you-do’ trait of a Holmes; but so far, it doesn’t seem like he plans to wield that as a weapon against John, or to use it to show off like his older brothers tend to do.)

“This is very good,” John says, taking another sip of the tea.

“Thank you.” Q flashes him a pleased smile as he pours another cup and brings it to where his brother is standing. “Is he still there?”

“He’s very persistent, I’ll give you that,” says Sherlock, accepting the cup of tea from Q.

“Are you being stalked?” John asks, joining the other two at the window.

“That’s one way to put it.”

Sherlock groans. “You know, you could always just let him shag you—” (here, it seems like Sherlock is about to blurt out his brother’s name, catches himself just in time, rolls his eyes, and corrects himself) “—Q, and we can all go back to our lives.”

John almost chokes on his tea at the sudden and nonchalant mention of sex, but Q takes it all in a stride: he makes a mildly offended face and says, “No Sherlock, I’m not going to do that – he’s used to getting whatever he wants whenever he wants it, and I do not plan to be just another notch in his bedpost, thank you very much.”

“Well, why not? Get it out of both of your systems. It’s been, what? Three years?”

Q hums. “Three and a half years, give or take.”

“Ohforgodssake,” Sherlock groans, marching away from the window and plopping down into his chair again. “It’s just sex that he wants, so give it to him.”

“It’s not just sex,” Q insists, still peering out the window. “It’s a matter of my pride too, you know. Don’t you at least care about that?”

Sherlock makes a non-committed noise, but John catches Q grinning at his older brother.

“He does. Care, I mean,” Q says quietly, almost fondly, when he meets John’s eyes.

And for a brief moment, John can actually imagine it: Sherlock as an older brother, protecting this bespectacled little brother of his from possible bullies all throughout their lives. He’s seen enough today to know that Sherlock and Q do indeed share a different brotherly bond than the one Sherlock shares with Mycroft (Sherlock’s purple shirt for Q, the cup of tea for Sherlock, that jab about Sherlock being a genius that would incense the detective had it been someone else uttering the insult), that Older Brother Sherlock does care about this mysterious youngest Holmes brother.

And John’s got no doubts that Sherlock would deck any arsehole who’d dare hurt his little brother’s pride.

“Right. And who is this fellow, exactly?” John asks, stepping closer to the window and peering out of it. He sees no one and nothing out of the ordinary in the streets below, but Q is still gazing out the window and John tries to follow his line of sight.

“Oh, just an underling of mine,” says Q.

“What, Bob from Finance?” John tries. Q chuckles at this.

“Q works for MI6,” Sherlock chimes in helpfully – a clear sign that he’s eavesdropping.

“MI6?” John lets out a low whistle. “Well, whoever this guy is – poor bloke. Can’t imagine him facing either of your brothers if anything goes wrong.”

“Oh, I don’t know. He’s a stubborn field agent. I feel like he might be able to handle Sherlock and Mycroft.”

“I’d like to see him try,” Sherlock mutters from his corner of the flat.

Q beams at John.

--

lol just a self-indulgent blurb of how I think John meets Q, the youngest of the four Holmes siblings!

No real plot, really. I just sort of imagined Bond tailing Q home out of curiosity (and the desire to shag lol) and Q noticing that he’s being tailed and panicking and therefore dropping by 221B Baker Street just because that’s one of the safest places he knows, only to find out via Sherlock’s deductions that he’s been tailed by an errant Double-Oh who perhaps has a crush on Q lol.

I haven’t yet come across fics where Mycroft, Sherlock, AND Eurus Holmes are related to Q. Would be nice to see how Q would react to having a sister.

It’s kind of my headcanon that Mycroft’s managed to keep Eurus a complete secret, even from Q.

I also sometimes find it funny how  Q is referred to as the moniker Q so easily by both Sherlock and Mycroft. I’d imagine they’d want to naturally address him by his name, as surely they do not call him by what is basically his title/work rank on a daily basis. (Like imagine if your brother is a doctor, and he comes over for a visit, and you call him...”doctor”?? Isn’t that weird?? xD idk, it feels weird to me~) Hence that sentence up there where Sherlock almost let slip Q’s real name.

(And yes, I was referring to Sherlock’s infamous purple shirt lol)

[impalaanddemons]

Idk why, but lately I've been thirsting for Q (tng) and it would be nice if you could do a smutty drabble please.👅💦💦 Thanks hope you have a Happy New Year🎊🎉

Okay. Things got .. out of hand while writing this, so you’re getting this 2k word monster. I hope you find the time to enjoy it. Usual disclaimer: Smut is not necessarily my forte. You have been warned.

In which you have fierce sex with a god

„He’s hot“ you said and your friends broke into a fit of giggles absolutely not appropriate for starfleets finest engineers.As was your monthly secretive best-friends-since-academy meeting down in engineering, second door left to the warp core. Your best friend Kieran actually had stashed away enough moonshine down there to be tried for breaking at least a dozen regulations at once.But today you did not care. You were just having fun with some friends. Drinking, laughing - and talking about that hot guy you had seen in engineering just a few minutes before you had caught up with the others.„Ooooh, look who’s in love.“ Maria was teasing you endlessly. Had been for years. You shoved her gently with one fist, laughing along.Someone joked about something - you didn’t really hear, but muttered something about looking for a bathroom into your drink and excused yourself from the room.

„Now, are we being naughty, Lieutenant?“ a voice snarled from the darkness that had fell upon engineering. You stopped dead in your tracks, a pearl of sweat forming on your forehead. Shit.„Just checking the tertiary power grid for the nacelles, Sir. There was a slight power fluctuation earlier.“„And lying comes to you so easily.“ the voice sounded almost appreciative.Sure that the voice came from behind your back you turned around carefully.There he was. The hot guy from before. Only now did you notice the captains pipes on his shoulders.With a smile as confident as you could muster you faced him.„Sir, I wasn’t aware there was another Captain on board.“„Oh, is there?“ he chuckled. The sound traveled down your spine with a shiver.He stepped over from where he was standing, his hands behind his back, a smile spread over his lips that made something inside you stir.„Secret meetings? Little stashes of real alcohol? How exciting.“ he grinned now, eyeing you from head to toe. For a second you felt like an insect on a dissecting table. You forced a breath down your lungs and straightened your posture.„I don’t know of any meetings, Sir.“ you’d rather be dead then a snitch.He leant down to you and grinned a toothy grin. A wolf baring its teeth at you. Your breath caught as his face brushed past yours and the low timbre of his voice whispered at your ear. „Liar.“The whisper struck a chord in your soul, its vibration was a flutter in your stomach.„You’re no captain.“ you concluded flatly and his voice laughed again. Again close to your ear. Close enough for you to feel his breath on your skin.It was either getting seriously warm in engineering, or you were developing a fever right now.„You’re smart for a mammal.“ it sounded like an honest compliment.You wanted to be offended - you really did. But another part of you betrayed that pride as your eyes wandered over his blacks curls, the tall frame. Your fingers twitched as you suppressed he urge to run your fingers over his features: His jawline, those lips curled into a treacherous smirk.„Exciting.“ he continued talking, a seemingly endless array of words flowing from his mouth. „You’re so much more … rebellious then your boring old capitane.“ He closed what little distance was left between the two of you but you refused to yield even an inch of space to him.„Does he approve of this kind of behavior?“ he cocked his head. „Does he … know your little secret?“He grabbed your chin between his fingers and you could feel that they would leave an impression on your skin.„Will he be angry with you if I tell him? Get all .. fatherly?“„Shut up.“ you muttered - you felt uncomfortably hot in your uniform now, but couldn’t decide wether you were angry and ready to punch him or just very very … excited.„Mon cher!“ he exclaimed, the tune of his voice full of hurt feelings.„You won’t dare.“ you hissed in return - more because of your temperament then out of conviction.„You obviously don’t know who you’re talking to.“ he said stressing the word ‚obviously‘.It was hard focusing on being angry. You bristled with anger for a moment and, pressing your jaws shut, felt your muscles work against the firm grip of his fingers.„Then who does me the honor … Captain?“ you pulled your lips into the loveliest smile you could muster. It was a smile able to erode titanium.„So fiery. I didn’t know humans could do that any more.“ he etched closer to your face. You could feel the heat emanating from his skin and a smell of something that appeared distinctively electric.„Good god.“ you whispered. It wasn’t that you had intended to voice that thought, it had just slipped out of your mouth before you could help it.He raised his eyebrows in amusement and mockery.„Perfect, my love.“You grumbled in response and closed the small gap that had remained between the two of you, pressing your mouth on his.

He seemed surprised for a split second. It was a pleasant expression on his face and one he obviously didn’t show all too often. But the surprise faded fast and relinquished it’s place to something more sinister.You looked surprised too - but not for the kiss itself, but for how the touch of your lips on his felt like the spark of a flame licking at your nerves. He did not hesitate much to return your motion - a fierce kiss that made the hairs on your arms stand up. He never let go of your chin but pressed his lips on yours as if trying to leave his mark on you. When the kiss finally broke you gasped for air. The sensation of his skin on yours was still painfully real and intense and made you want more of this, of him, whatever he was.

„Of course I had a couple of millennia to try this and that.“ he whispered, obviously conscious of the effect he had on you.„And we Q usually don’t dabble in … biology.“ he continued and you felt your body get cold and hot all at the same time.He laughed as he saw how realization hit you.„Yes. The one and only.“ the omnipotent muttered and this time he was the one to initiate the kiss.„Oh my god.“ you mumbled, breaking the connection, staring at him in disbelief.„How very attentive of you.“ his fingers traveled away from your chin and down your neck and where they went they left the heat of glowing embers. The feeling of his touch on your skin traveled over your skin, through nerves and muscles down into the core of your being.You fought with two of the fundamental f’s in human nature but the dice had already been tossed and counted minutes ago.You caught his lips again, ready to dance if the self proclaimed god was, and he reciprocated in delight.This time you did not fight back the urge to slide with your fingers along his neck and gently run them through his black hair. You felt the muscles in his shoulders move as he pushed closer and although he was not human your reaction to him definitely was.„Someone’s going to see us.“ you muttered.His lips and teeth traveled down your neck, following his inquisitive hands and lighting a trail of fire on the way. You groaned involuntarily.You heard the snap of fingers next and then the deep hum and the red light of the warp core nearby.Your lips formed a surprised „Oh“ but you could read in his wicked grin that this was the reaction he had aimed for.„Don’t worry, little human.“ he said as his fingers pulled down the zipper of your uniform.„This warp core is completely harmless compared to what you are playing with.“ his confidence would’ve been sickening, if it weren’t for his fingers trailing the length of your side and then grabbing you and lifting you up to place you on the main console.Another kiss in which you grabbed the back of his head and pulled him close. His hands on your shoulders, your sides, one closing around a breast and playing with an already hard nipple. You wrapped your legs around him to pull him close and through the uniform felt that, god or not, his human form reacted in the usual form, pressing hard against the fabric of your most sensitive parts.„Not very godlike,“ you mumbled at his ear and gently bit his earlobe. He tasted human but the spark and the sensation of energy that followed made you groan.„I haven’t even begun.“ he answered and with another snap of his fingers your uniform was gone. The console was cold and then became quickly wet and slick where you sat. And while the fingers of one hand closed around a breast again, his other hand moved south. The tip of his index trailing a line down your side and over to your thigh. Gently and slowly and followed by the fire and the light that seemed to be wherever he touched you he began to caress the sensitive spot between your legs. You could already feel the contraction of your climax. You could feel his fingers manipulating you so perfectly that you bent backwards on the console, displaying for him what was his right now. It was a pure flow of energy and heat that washed over you and carried you over to that edge. Promising. Luring you in. Showing you a glimpse of bliss and eternity. Just one stroke more. One more squeeze of his fingers around your nipple.And when you thought you wouldn’t be able to take it anymore without losing yourself he changed the position of his hands and pushed a finger into you.You groaned now shamelessly. You opened your eyes and stared at the warp core. Lifted your head back to watch him, your own breath hitched. He smiled and something uneasy stirred in you for a second but did not stand a chance against the onslaught of feelings.He pushed a second finger into you and you groaned again, your fingers grasping the panel you were sitting on hard, your legs spread for him.„Not yet.“ he stated and although you were sure this was the last moment, the final second of standing on the edge before being pushed over nothing happened. You remained there and it drove all conscious thought from your mind.„Say pretty please.“ he coaxed now.He bent his fingers gently, continued rubbing with his thumb the part of you were all the fire and energy started. Another finger slipped into you and you groaned now at the feeling of being stretched and stroked and you whimpered, your head falling back again.„Please“, you groaned as he pushed his fingers harder into you now, simulating what would surely follow next.„God, Q, please.“ you collected what sensible thought you found left in your mind.

He chuckled. He didn’t need to leave you to get rid of his clothes. There were just his fingers now teasing you relentlessly and his body suddenly not clothed any more. You would’ve barely noticed if it wasn’t for him being so dangerously close now.For all the tiny sparks on your skin as he leant over you and really touched you with his body for the first time.There was nothing that could’ve prepared you for the moment his fingers left you and he pushed into you with his full length.Your feeling of self and distinctiveness from him and the universe was pulverized. There was nothing that remained but the force with which he pushed into you and the knowledge of  his self taking over yours. You ran on a high impossible to describe and it coaxed you and taunted you. It was sex and it was relentless and it was more than that - it was the union with something distinctively not human, something merging with you for a moment and showing you the wonders of an indefinite mind.And then he finally let you come. It felt like an eternity and it washed over you and through you. You were sure that the sound you made would’ve been heard on the bridge but for a blissful second you didn’t care.All you cared for were his lips wet and hot on your skin and him inside you and around you, touching you more intimately than any other human ever could.It took minutes before you realized that you still lay sprawled on the console while the omnipotent was already dressed again, leaning nonchalanty at the console next to you and smiling one of his more unnerving smiles.

[just-castlevania-imagines]

1000 follower Tribute Castlevania Q&A

“Good evening everyone!” Sypha started warmly, tapping the microphone gently to make sure it was working. “Is this thing on?”

“It’s on Sypha!” Trevor yelled to her, being one of many sitting at a long table behind him. She smiled, returning her attention to the growing audience reading this.

“Well, Hello! tonight we have a very special treat. Several of you have sent questions that you would like us to answer and we are going to answer them right here, right now. I Am your host, Sypha Belnades!” She introduced herself, grinning ear to ear. “Behind me from left to right is: Vlad Dracula Tepes, His lovely wife Lisa Tepes, Their son Alucard, Trevor Belmont, Issac and Hector. Aaaand off to the right protesting is some guy named Godbrand?”

“Why didn’t I get any questions!” The viking yelled, Making the hostess roll her eyes.

“Let’s get this over with.” Issac complained, “I have plans after this.”

“Alright then. As you wish.” Sypha started, digging into her robes for a set of cards. She shuffled them breifly before picking one and turning to her panel. “Question one is for....Trevor!”

“Naturally.” Belmont said smugly,most of the Tepes family grumbling. Lisa calmed her husand and song with a hand on each of their shoulders. Alucard sighed, taking a drink from his water bottle. “What’s my first question?”

“ Would you fuck Alucard if you have the chance? “ Alucard spit his water out, his mother lightly scolding him for it. Trevor just laughed, staring at his fingernails and trying to think of an answer.

“Well...um.. It depends-”

“Who asked that!” Alucard yelled, his mother patting his back and urging him to relax.

“It was an anonymous asker.”

“Son,” Dracula started. “Please do not fornicate with the Belmont-”

“Father-”

“If I’ve had a lot to drink and he was less of a cunt,” Trevor started. “Yeah, Probably-”

“I’m done,” Alucard said, trying to stand up and leave. His mother sat him down, scolding him for overracting. Sypha just giggled, lightly shuffling the remaining cards and drawing another one.

“Alright, the next quesiton is for Alucard.” She started with a smile. “What is your favorite type of food.”

“Belmonts.” He answered without hesitating. Trevor smirked, trying not to start laughing again.

“It’s funny because if you kind of switch his tone it sounds sexual-”

“Nevermind, I like Seafood.” He quickly corrected.Sypha nodded, again shuffling her cards.

“Simple man, Simple answers. The next question is for Dracula.”

“Excellent.” He said, oddly dark. “What is it that they wish to know?”

“ Boxers, briefs, or freeballin?” Sypha said  happily, completely ignoring the contents of the question. Lisa blushed and Adrian just put his face in his hands. Dracula nodded slowly, absorbing the question.

“...tell me... What is ‘Freeballing’?”

“Oh Lord I can’t do this.” Alucard said, getting up and walking off the panel. “I’ll beback later.”

“Hurry Back!” Sypha urged. Lisa was busy whispering to her husband, explaining the question.

“I see... after further explaination from my wife I have learned that I have been ‘Freeballing’.”

“Woo!” Godbrand yelled from the sidelines. “Great choice!”

“Will you get out of here?” Hector asked, “You weren’t even asked a question.”

“Niether were we,” Issac started. “However, people seem to get upset when we are not included, even though they aren’t specifically requesting us.”

“Yeah, It’s weird..”

“Sypha, Taking the floor once more!” The speaker said happily, regaining control.  “The next question is for Alucard.”

“Someone go get the spoiled brat from the backroom.” Trevor groaned, Leaning back in his chair.  Almost on cue he returned, another bottle of water with him. He sat beside his mother, who put a loving hand on his shoulder.

“What did I miss?”

“You have a question, Dear.”

“This anon would like to know what your fondest memory is of your parents.” Sypha asked. Adrian couldn’t help but smile and look over at his loving parents to his right.

“Well... The castle is very big. I used to enjoy playing hide and seek with my parents. My father always seemed to know where to find me.. One day I stumped him. I picked a spot so good that he didn’t know where to find me.” He remembered, his parents holding each others hands as he spoke. “I was hiding in his study. Just sitting in his favorite chair. By the time they both found me I had fallen asleep.”

“Aww,” Sypha cooed, squishing her face. “That’s adorable. Thank you Alucard for sharing.... Our next question is for Lisa!”

“Oh, Exciting.” The doctor said happily. The vampires to her left and right seemed ready to destroy someone depending on what the question was about.

“What is your favorite memory of Adrian as a baby?”

“Oh....that’s a tough one..” She said, thinking to herself for a moment. “It’s a tie between when he first walked and the naked baby dance-”

“Pfft, the what?” Trevor asked, making the vampire freeze.

“N-Nothing.”

“No,” Dracula said, putting a finger up for clarification. “It was not nothing. You were so cute when you would do that little bath time dance.”

“OH he was so precious Vlad,” Lisa said dreamily, remembering the early days of her parenting. “Anytime we prepared to bathe him he would do this little dance where he jumps from foot to foot.”

“And he’s make those cute little huff noises.” As Dracula and his wife reminisced, Alucard sunk lower in his chair, not wanting to look over at Trevor who was just staring him down.

“Oh, those were the days.” She said happily, hugging herself. “And now my boy is all grown up. Almost ready to give me children of his own-”

“Okay, Mother, Thank you for that beautiful trip down memory lane.” Alucard cut in, sitting upright in his chair once more. “What’s the next question?”

“The next question is for Vlad!”

“Did I only get one question?” Trevor asked suddenly. Sypha nodded, preparing to read from the card she had.

“If you could have saved Lisa... how would you?” Lisa put a hand to her heart, recoiling in fear at the mention of her fate. Dracula slammed his fists on the table, standing ferociously.

“I would have ripped her from that stake and drove it through the heart of the corrupt priests that think they do God’s work by killing the only credit to their race!”

“Now Vlad dear, calm down-”

“I would have burned the church to the ground! Everyone who had ever harmed her would face a wrath  ten times that than the devil himself-!”

“Vlad, please, Dear, It was just a question!” Lisa pleaded, beginning to shake her husband who was getting a bit too into the question. She was able to calm him back into sitting down. He huffed, mumbling about how everyone was lucky his wife was here. Sypha was scared but shuffled the cares once more.

“Um...yes... So Alucard! Next question for you!”

“Oh come on!” Godbrand complained, “He’s got like 6 question!”

“Shut up,” Sypha said, oddly happy. “Now, Alucard. This anon wants to know... if You’ll marry them.”

“..What?”

“Yes!” Lisa said excitedly. “Oh, I bet they’re so lovely. The kids will be beautiful-”

“M-Mother-”

“Oh the wedding will be a grand affair!” Lisa marvelled, clearly excited. “Vlad, what do you think?”

“I know you want a grandchild but Lisa we don’t even know this person.” Vlad reminded her, amused by her excitement. “We will all talk about this later.”

“ Okay, I have a couple more questions for Adrian.” Sypha said, holding a couple cards in her hand at once. “1: What do you do with your hair? Do you ever put it up in a bun or braid?”

“I tie my hair back but I haven’t really experimented with it. My mother used to braid it when I was younger..”

“Alright, 2: Do you choose your own clothes, or does Lisa?”

“Does your mommy dress you?” Trevor teased, Alucard simply ignored him.

“Well, My father was actual more responsible for how I dress. When I was a baby my mother was and as I aged my father took that over.”

“All good answers.” Sypha said, nodding and looking through the cards. “Okay What are your dirtiest kinks-?”

“Sypha! My mother is right next to me!” Alucard complained. Lisa gasped and Dracula spared his wife, putting his hands over his wife’s ears.

“Go ahead son.”

“Ugh..well.. um... I haven’t ..tried many things? Bondage seems nice, can we move on?” He answered awkwardly, trying not to make eye contact with anyone. Dracula released his wife’s ears and Trevor was trying his best to keep from laughing.

“Alright and that is it for Alucard!” Sypha announced happily. 

“Finally,” Issac complained. “That was... very telling.”

“The next question is for... Trevor!”

“Huh, Me?” He asked, fixing himself upright in his chair. “Finally.”

“Do you have another large fluffy coat somewhere?” 

“Oh man, I dont... I wish I did though. I loved that fucking coat. It was my fathers. When the Belmont home was under seige it’s the only thing I took. I’ve had it ever since..” He said rubbing his hands and probably wishing he had his coat right now. Sypha smiled, happy that he shared that.

“Next question is for... Dracula.. What is your favorite thing about Adrian?”

“He’s my son.”

“Vlad,” LIsa scolded, lightly slapping his hand. “What is your favorite thing about your son?” Vlad scratched his chin, really taking a moment to think. Alucard looked offended and Trevor put his head on the table, laughing into his arms.

“...Well,” Vlad started. “...He’s my son.”

“I think that’s the only answer we’re going to get.” Sypha conceeded, “Onto the next question.... for Trevor!”

“Fantastic.” The hunter said, celebrating to himself.

“What is your ideal lazy day with someone you care about?”

“Oh you know,” He started, leaning back in his chair. “Go get a drink, laze around in the grass, fall asleep-” Alucard chukled, interrupting him.

“Of course your list starts with drinking-”

“Bite me.”

“Don’t tempt me, Belmont.”

“Oh just kiss already.” Issac said, rolling his eyes. Sypha smiled, turning back to the audience.

“And it looks like that’s all the questions that we recieved!”

“Wait, that was it?” Hector asked, jumping to his feet. “Nothing for us-”

“Thank you all 1000 plus followers for submitting your questions to your favorite characters and I do hope that you enjoyed our little session here today!”

“I canceled my afternoon, i had no questions!?”

“How do you think I feel!” Godbrand started. “This blogs full of people that want to fuck me and still no one asked me a damn question-”

“This was fun,” Lisa started, “We must do this again sometime.”

“Goodnight everyone,” Dracula stood, addressing you all. “Thank you for following and we will see you next time.”

-Mod Alucard

[melynen]

Old Man - 00Q

((Short-ish but sweet. Written for the Cafe’s Simple September challenge, prompt ‘cane’. I had some problems with the ending, which is why it’s late like this.))

There’s no way around it, Bond thinks distastefully. The cane makes him look like an old man.

An established gentleman, perhaps, of the slightly older variety, Q had said, distracted by the screen before him. Which was not exactly what Bond might have wanted to hear, but he’d taken it and done his best to distract his younger lover in a completely different manner.

Now, three hours later, as he stands by the big mirror of their bedroom, with both cats winding around his feet and the cane - probably marking it as theirs - he cannot but wonder if he can make it work. Or if this is it, the thing that marks the decline of the great James Bond, because there really is no question as to why he’s using the bloody thing. Sleek as it is, its sole function is unmistakably to assist him in walking; it can hardly be thought of as a fashion statement by even the most unobservant of individuals.

Bond sighs explosively and contemplates the merits of discarding the cane in any case. At least inside the flat, where no one expects him to be in perfect control. Except that perhaps to the cats he’s in control of the treat cabinet, at least when Q’s away or otherwise occupied, but that is hardly a strain in the way being in the field is.

He hears a faint noise from the other side of the flat, which tells him that Q has come home early for a change. Well, that or he has an incompetent intruder on his hands. Bond much prefers option number one, but he’ll take number two, too, if for nothing else than to take his mind elsewhere for a bit.

“James?”

“In here.”

Bond can hear Q’s footfalls move closer, intermingled with a series of meows and trills followed by Q’s voice when he greets his darlings, and then he’s stepping through the open door to the bedroom, one cat in his arms and the other following close behind. Bond hides his smile despite himself and keeps his eyes trained on the offending cane.

“Why so serious?” Q asks, putting the cat down on the bed and lightly leaning his head against Bond’s shoulder on his good side. “You’re not still brooding over the cane, by any chance?” he continues, and Bond can hear the hint of laughter colouring his voice.

“Me? Brooding? Hardly.”

“Could have fooled me.”

Bond makes a slightly amused sound and wraps an arm around Q’s waist. “You’re home earlier than I expected.”

“I know,” Q says. “Wanted to make sure that my old man wouldn’t starve here on his own, what with the injury and all.”

“Cheeky pup,” Bond says, but he tightens his grip on Q all the same.

“I seem to remember a certain someone using those exact words in my office earlier today,” Q points out. “Besides, I was going to cook for you today in any case.”

“You were?”

Q turns his head to face him. “Yes. I’ve not seen you in two weeks, and I missed you.”

“You know I missed you too,” Bond says, softly.

“So does all of my branch, and most likely half of the building,” Q says, but he doesn’t sound like he terribly minds, so Bond doesn’t bother with acting contrite. Instead, he pulls Q properly into his arms, dropping the cane in the process, and proceeds to snog him silly. He might not currently be up for his usual feats of athleticism, so certain deeds - like picking Q up and having him against the mirror - are out of the question for now, but kissing Q has always been something he excels at.

When he finally pulls away long enough to properly appreciate the marks he’s made on the right side of Q’s neck, he takes note of the way Q’s breathing has picked up and how he’s all but hanging onto him. Bond thinks that now, if ever, he’s justified in feeling a little bit smug.

“So,” Q says then pauses to clear his throat, “feeling any better?”

“A little. I fear that more effort is needed before I feel like my regular self again.”

“Could I feed you - and myself - first, though?” Q asks, clearly amused.

“All right, then, but only because I am feeling a little peckish,” Bond allows.

Q chuckles and makes to pull away and pick up the cane Bond had dropped, but Bond shakes his head. “I won’t be needing that here.”

“But the doctor said,” Q starts, and Bond quiets him with a quick peck on the lips.

“I have you to lean onto,” he says, simply.

Q looks at him with the softest of smiles. “That you do.”

So Bond guides his lover onto his weaker side and puts an arm around his waist. Q’s arm comes around him in return, and together they make their way to the kitchen, the ever curious kitties trailing after them. (They’re probably hoping for a treat or ten, and knowing himself, it’s a more than plausible outcome.)

Bond can already see it in his mind’s eye: Q, moving around in the kitchen, concentrating on his cooking, and himself, sitting at the table with a cup of tea (because Q is thoughtful like that), surrounded by the cats patiently waiting for their treats. Then dinner and a drink or two, and afterwards watching telly on the sofa with Q in his arms and the cats sleeping on top of them, before retiring to bed for an early night - though this time without the cats.

He’s rather looking forward to it all.

[jenobloom]

WHY DO I BOTHER? (Chapter 1)

Kia Weon is a newly born idol, fresh from debut, and she hates her image. Her debut didn’t do too well so now Pledis have decided that she will be the one to provide vocals for Seventeen’s newest song ‘Q&A’ and in the process she makes 12 new friends but one enemy. A relationship becomes a thing that happens and a huge change in her career puts friendships on the line.

Word count: 3,141 words

Warnings: None

A random (and probably boring) thing I’ve started working onnn, not super sure where this is gonna go but hey, it’s a work in progress so feel free to suggest things.

I quickly scanned my appearance over in the full-length mirror outside the door to the recording studio once more to make sure that I looked presentable. My thin black oversized Monsta X long sleeved shirt with Changkyun’s stage name and birth year on the back of it hung loosely from my small, short frame and stopped at mid-thigh and was paired with a pair of short black bicycle shorts that were hidden under the shirt to prevent accidental flashing, worn black combat boots and one of Hoseok’s long leather chokers wrapped around my neck; the dark clothing contrasted pleasingly with my bright violet hair and my pale, makeup-less face was half hidden by a black cotton mask.

“Okay Kia, you can do this.” I breathed before walking quietly in to the studio, a smile forced on to my lips as I nervously walked in to the room despite nobody being able to see it.

The room was tiny, a small sofa was stuffed in to one corner of the room and a desk with a few monitors, medium sized white speakers and other complicated looking studio equipment was pressed against the recording booth wall about a step away from the sofa. Perched stiffly in the chair in front of the desk was a guy with a blonde undercut hairstyle and, like my own, his hands were tucked in to the cuffs of a black oversized hoodie to form sweater paws while black skinny jeans that had been rolled up at the ankles hugged his legs, complimenting his thin build. A pair of large rounded glasses were perched upon his nose and shielded his eyes that were slightly turned upwards at the ends due to his inviting polite smile, he nervously jumped up from his chair to greet me and was roughly only an inch taller than my small 5-foot 3 frame.

“Hi, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Lee Jihoon, the producer, you must be Weon Kia?” He awkwardly introduced himself with a bow, nearly knocking in to me as he did due to how close together we were forced to stand.

“Yeah, I’m Weon Kia. It’s nice to meet you!” I bowed back awkwardly also, straightening up and looking at him once more. “Excuse my Korean and very basic etiquette, it’s been a while since I’ve had to speak the language so much and it’s also my first time back in Korea since I was 7 and so I’ve grown to the British ways.”

“That’s fine, what is your lunar age?”

The question caught me off slightly, I knew it was a simple and unoffensive question however, my mind was still slightly accustomed to the western ways.

“Um… I’m 17?”

“19, shall we make a start on recording?”

I silently nodded, finding the atmosphere to be slightly thick and conversation awkward, placing my phone and earphones on the desk beside Jihoon and slipping in to the small recording booth, pulling the headphones on to my head then sliding my facemask to sit on my chin so it didn’t muffle my voice. I stared at Jihoon as I waited for him to tell me what to do next, feeling uncomfortable in the silent room as I was still only a rookie in the huge world of idols and so I still had to get used to the atmosphere of recording booths.

“Okay, could you say or sing something in to the mic please to test that everything is working?” Jihoon’s authorative voice flooded the silent room, making me panic a little as I realised that he was putting me on the spot as a younger looking boy walked in to the room and perched himself on the small grey sofa. Out of panic I began to rap Jooheon’s first part in the song Interstellar, nervously laughing as I noticed how it threw Jihoon off a little as his eyebrows rose and his eyes widened slightly before focussing on one of his screens.

“Okay so the mic works, let’s go!”

Gulping once, I cleared my throat as the familiar music began to play from the headphones. The recording process flowing smoothly, Jihoon only having to correct me on my pronunciation and pitch a handful of times before I was able to step out of the booth and was faced with the newcomer of the room who had been staring at me for the 20 minutes that I sang.

“Hello, I’m Weon Kia, it’s nice to meet you!” I bowed and smiled politely to the boy who looked to be my age.

“Hey, I’m Lee Chan, nice to meet you also!”

His smile was incredibly inviting, flanked by slightly chubby cheeks that gave his face a super cute shape; not too rounded but also not too sharp. His deep brown eyes were framed by a pair of rounded, thin gold framed glasses and his grey/blonde un-styled hair flopped over them gently. We took a seat back on the sofa and listened intently as Jihoon played the nearly finalised song over the speakers with my voice finally filling the gaps that were there previously, noting down things that would need to be adjusted to improve the quality of the song. My fingers played nervously with the earbuds of my earphones that now rested in my lap on top of my phone, producing a clinking noise when they occasionally hit the screen and causing me to cringe as I was aware of Chan’s attention being drawn to me.

“So…have you debuted yet?” His first word dragged out awkwardly to initiate a conversation as he shifted in his seat to face me better.

“Yeah, I didn’t do as well as expected though which is why Pledis are getting me on as many things as possible. They’re worried that their money will get wasted if I don’t pick up views and fans and stuff like that.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll do great! It just needs time; would you mind if I saw your debut video?”

I winced a little at the question, cringing as I realised how rude it would be to flat out refuse the boy. Despite my brain protesting completely against it, I plugged my earphones in to my phone and pulled the music video up for my debut song ‘ice cream cake’, handing Chan both my phone and an earbud as I put one in to my own ear before pressing play and settling my gaze on his face to watch for reactions. Confusion flashed across his features as he recognised me among the back up dancers, the confusion intensifying as he took in the lyrics, dance, video concept and my general appearance; the pastel appearance and soft voice obviously contrasting to my out of work look. He bobbed along softly to my voice and the beat and eventually gave the phone and earbud back to me once it had ended, he didn’t say anything straight away, he almost hesitated with his words as he looked back up at my face, seeming like he was considering his words carefully as to avoid offending.

“I liked it! It’s just…is that actually you because you seem so different in person an-“

“Lee Chan, you can’t speak to her like that!” Jihoon snapped like a parent would, swivelling in his chair to shoot the younger boy a disapproving look as Chan’s question fell upon his ears.

“No, I didn’t mean it like that! I’m sorry if it came across that way but-“

“It’s okay, honestly. I understand what you mean,” I let out an awkward laugh, my cheeks warming up a little as I caught Chan’s wide eyes. “Pledis thought I wouldn’t be able to work the ‘bad girl’ look so they’ve given me the whole bubble gum act, I don’t enjoy it at all, it’s far from my true self. Dark clothing, rappers and more thought out, artistic lyrics and music videos are my type of thing. The only thing I like about my debut song is the wordplay and I look fairly okay in baby pink clothing,” I glanced over at Jihoon and back at Chan, the younger of the two looked to be deep in thought, “is there another question you want to ask or…”

“I’m sorry if this sounds extremely rude but what’s your nationality? Because you don’t look like you’re from Korea, but you pronounce everything so well but you also have an accent of some kind and I’m a little confused, you don’t have to answer but I’m curious.”

“I’m British, I was born in Korea and so I speak fluently but I moved back to England with my parents to be closer to the other members of my family when I was 7 so I’m a bit rusty with the language and how Korea works. I’m pretty sure it’s the only reason I was accepted in to training too.” I chuckled lightly at his question, it was a question I would frequently get so it didn’t offend me in the slightest and only amused me as I gave him my scripted answer that I usually saved for TV.

“I see, so you’re here to stay now then?” I nodded, taking note of how his squishy cheeks were now dusted with a light pink colour. “Would you like to come back to the dorm for lunch?”

My eyes widened a little at how straight-forward he was being, his hands that were wrapped in the oversized sleeves of his orange top in insecurity flew up to hide his reddening face as I began laughing, any awkwardness from this morning washing away as I realised that these boys were just as bad at interacting with others as I was.

“I-I mean, like, because I thought it would be nice for us all to get to know each other and stuff? Like you can meet Seungchol and Vernon who are on this track alongside you and that kind of… thing.”

“I appreciate it,” I giggled and gently pulled his hands away from his face to make eye contact with him. “I’ll take the offer, it would be nice to make some more friends here. I don’t have many at the moment.”

“Jihoon hyung, will you be joining us?”

The hard-working blonde ripped his eyes away from the screen once more for a few seconds, seeming to have only just caught what was being said to him, his hands never leaving the keyboard and mouse however as his head turned to greet our now standing selves.

“No thank you, I’ll grab something later. Kia, I’ll text you when the song is ready for you to hear so you can come and listen to it.”

“thank you,” I bowed a little and earned a small smile back before following Chan out of the studio door, bringing my mask back over my mouth and nose.

The walk to the Seventeen dorm from the Pledis building was short, nothing was really said between me and Chan other than him informing me that the other boys would all be at home as they don’t usually do much on their days off other than game or sleep due to their tiring schedule, which I fully understood being an idol fresh from debut, before he then gave me a quick run through of everyone’s names and how to recognise them so I would feel less intimidated by the 11 boys that I had not yet met.

“Ready?” Chan offered me a small smile as his hand rested on the door handle to their 5th floor apartment.

I only nodded in response, my hands instantly slipping in to my oversized sleeves to wrap themselves back in to sweater paws which offered me a sense of security, we could already hear loud music being played from the living room in the other end of the apartment but as soon as the front door opened a male that was a head and neck taller than me appeared from one of the rooms closest to the front door in only his tight-fitting black boxers, his hair a fluffy brown mess as he rubbed his eyes sleepily and looked over before realising that Chan wasn’t alone, his eyes widening nearly as much as mine in shock. My hands quickly flew up to my eyes to shield them from the stupidly attractive male towering in front of me and I bowed before squeaking out a rushed greeting.

“H-hello, I’m Weon K-Kia, nice to meet you!” I stayed bowed until the shuffling in front of me stopped, straightening up and peeking between my fingers I saw that the male had quickly threw on a baggy t shirt that he must of grabbed from one of the bags of clothes conveniently laying in the hall and was now stood with a bright red face and his hands crossed in front of his hips.

“I’m Kim Mingyu, I’m sorry about being underdressed, please forgive me.” He bowed in both greeting and apology, eventually straightening up and looking down at me, smiling gently with a blush dusting his cheeks before turning to Chan who was currently trying to control his laughter. “The others are in the living room if you hadn’t already heard, Soonyoung and Seungkwan are hyper and Seungchol has given up on trying to calm them down.”

He quickly slipped back in to the room that he had just come from before Dino led me in to the living room, a wide smile cracked my face as two boys who I assumed to be Hoshi and Seungkwan were dancing energetically to TWICE’s song Ooh Ahh, getting the choreography perfect, so I ran over and stood next to the boy with blonde hair, ensuring there was enough space for us to dance without hitting each other. All 3 of us sang and energetically danced along perfectly in time and tune with the song, the others all cheering, clapping and laughing as they watched us perform and when the song ended the brown-haired male squealed before picking me up in a bone-crushing hug and span me around.

“Oh my god, Weon Kia is in my dorm and she danced with me!” He screamed, still not letting me go as he placed me back on the ground. “I love your song, I know the choreography and all the words!”

His fanboy side shocked me a little but I pulled him back in for a tight hug, I rarely get the chance to meet fans or gain compliments but when I do I have to distract myself from tearing up; I may despise the song and my image however I still worked hard to debut and make my song a hit so it was amazing to know the late nights and crazy diets had worked.

“Thank you, we should dance to it together!” I excitedly suggested, him nodding frantically before running over to the phone that was plugged in to the speakers and selecting my song then standing in place, the blonde-haired boy from before also joined us as well as Chan and another brown-haired male with a wide smile.

I was in awe for the whole song, shocked at how well the 4 males knew the dance and enjoying how feminine they seemed while doing it, as the song ended we all collapsed with laughter. Finally, introductions were exchanged around the room and I learned that the blonde boy who I danced with was Soonyoung, the fanboy was Seungkwan and the wide-smiled guy was Seokmin, I was also finally introduced to Seungchol and Hansol (who had the most charming smile in my opinion), Jun who seemed to be extremely sweet, Jisoo who greeted me in English after I mentioned that is was the language I was most comfortable with (Hansol also switching to speak to me in English), and finally Wonwoo and Jeonghan who had emerged from the kitchen armed with a plate full of sandwiches. I was sat comfortably on the floor with crossed legs between Hansol and Jisoo, nibbling on a ham sandwich and sipping on my apple juice as I enjoyed the conversation of the entire group and laughing when a petty argument started up between Seungchol and Soonyoung about why the group couldn’t get a puppy and how Soonyoung should just be happy with Mingyu, everyone had been so engrossed in the argument that nobody noticed when a new male entered the room until he sat next to Jun and grabbed a plate, wide smiles were exchanged between everyone before his eyes finally settled on me and confusion took over his face, his deep brown eyes glancing at me over the top of his glasses.

“Hi, I’m Weon Kia, it’s nice to meet you!” I bowed as well as I could in my seated position with my sandwich still in my hands and waited for him to introduce himself.

“Xu Minghao, nice to meet you also.” He hesitantly introduced himself before turning towards Jun and speaking quickly in what I recognised to be Mandarin in a hushed tone. “Who is she?”

Annoyance coursed through my blood at the rude man as he carried out one of my biggest pet peeves.

“I’m a singer/rapper that has just debuted, Chan invited me over for lunch and to meet everyone because I’m working on a song with Jihoon and I’ve not been here for long. I would prefer it if you would address me when you have questions rather than trying to speak to another individual in a language you thought I didn’t know, it’s politer.” I shot back quickly in his native tongue with a slightly harsh voice, the chatter dying down as people turned to look between Minghao, Jun and myself as they realised that something was happening; the two Chinese members looking shocked.

“Is everything okay?” Seungchol asked as he noticed the tension that had formed.

“Yeah… did you know Kia can speak Mandarin?” Jun broke from his trance and laughed nervously, Minghao only shooting me a slight glare before digging in to his own sandwich and staring at the floor with squinted eyes as if it was suddenly the most interesting yet offensive thing in the world.

“Hey that’s not fair, now she can have secret conversations with China line!” Soonyoung whined with a pout dressing his face.

“…Did you just call us China line?” Jun looked slightly taken back and placed his sandwich on his lap, comically placing his hands on his hips and glaring jokingly.

I giggled loudly, realising where he must have found the ship name before lecturing him.

“You shouldn’t be on Tumblr, that’s like breaking yours fans trust!”

“…Mingyu, did you know that you and Wonwoo would make an extremely cute couple?”