#WHY DID I GIVE HIM THAT DARN ACCENT

[melancholic-hues]

the hectic way of things (take a break)

posted on AO3

fandom - honkai: star rail

rating - general audiences

warning - no warnings apply

category - f/m

pairings - boothill/robin ; robin & sunday ; boothill & robin ; boothill & robin

tags - written before version 2.2 ; alternate universe

word count - 7848 words

chapters - 1/?

-

She is just about done with her makeup, about to move onto her wig, when she hears her balcony door lock get picked. Then comes the distinctive sound of the door sliding open, and the clacking of heels against tiled floors.

“Boothill!” Robin shoots up and runs over as the cyborg opens his arms wide. She crashes into him, her landing against his metal chest softened by the vest he’s wearing, and he twirls her around, his cold, metal hand in her own soft, warm ones. “You came!” she beams, expression genuine and sincere.

“Wouldn’t miss a second of you for the world, darlin’,” he drawls, accent all western and sweet, leaning down to kiss her. “‘sides, I did promise I would come, didn’t I?”

“You did,” she smiles, giving him another peck on the lips. “Through my balcony.”

“Aye, cut me some slack. I at least picked the lock. If it were one of my targets, I would’ve blown the darn thing to pieces,” Boothill grins, his smile sharp and charming and all the reasons why she fell for him in the first place.

“You could’ve come through the door, you know?” she says, grabbing a light trench coat and leading him over to her vanity, where a blonde wig sat atop a bust. They’re going to an amusement park just to have fun, so she has to wear a disguise. Thankfully, she’s done this before with ease — get a disguise, she means. She hasn’t been to an amusement park in a while.

Boothill trots over, footsteps soft, leaning on the wall, next to her vanity. He says, “didn’t want your freak of a brother to stare at me. Climbin’ through windows are more my style.”

“He’s the one driving us there, so you might as well have given him a proper hello,” Robin hums a light and happy tune, carefully tucking her blue hair under the wig cap. “Don’t stare at me like this, I’m practically bald right now.”

“And I’d still love you all the same,” Boothill reassures, “with hair or no hair.”

Even though it’s meant as a simple and silly sentence, Robin blushes. “Thank you,” she mutters, carefully putting the blonde wig on. She hates using wig glue, and, since this is only for a short while, clips will suffice. While she is snapping the clips together, she looks over at Boothill’s appearance.

It’s not often you get to see a cyborg, especially one who is a Galaxy Ranger and, well, pretty, like Boothill. He looks the same: a worn, black leather jacket and similar-looking pants; a belt full of ammo, his revolver, and a coil of lasso; and, of course, a wide-brimmed cowboy hat.

“Ay, quit staring,” Boothill teases, throwing her a wink.

Robin giggles. “Alright, alright. Aren’t you going to do anything about that belt? Pretty sure you can’t bring that to the amusement park. Which, might I remind you, is in the public. Also, you’re notoriously well-known around here.” 

“Can’t help it if the people recognize this absolute perfection of a face and this machine of a body,” Boothill sighs, popping his hip out, all cold, metal plates. She agrees; his face is absolute perfection, and she would be lying if she said she doesn’t often think about the machine of a body that he has. “I’ll just swallow my gun and bullets.”

“We can keep your stuff in Sunday’s car. Most likely, he’s just going to sit around and work.” Work, work, work. That’s all there is, these days.

There was a time, far before, when her brother wasn’t so caught up in work and professionalism. When he was actually, you know, her brother. When he was just Sunday, not the leader of the Oak Family. Not the head of Penacony. They used to escape their lives all the time when they were younger: she, standing on a box and singing; he, sitting on the ground and being her first and most loyal fan. 

Now, they barely get twenty minutes of face-to-face time with each other a day.

Hopefully, this day trip to the amusement park can change that. Even for a day. She’s willing to give up her entire singing career for a good, solid week with her brother.

“…you alright?” Boothill asks slowly, leaning down to check on her, hands stuffed casually in his pockets. “Robin?”

Robin nods, smoothing out the fabric of her knee-length dress and shrugging on the coat to hide her wings. “I was thinking. Sunday wasn’t always this obsessed with work.” After pausing for a second, she continues, “I’m worried about him, Boothill. What if he’s overworking himself? I feel like he’s a ticking time bomb, just about to blow.” She stares at her reflection in the vanity mirror. The crease in her brows shouldn’t be there. She has to be happy.

“Your brother, ah,” Boothill sucks in air through his sharp teeth, “as much as we don’t like each other, and don’t tell him I said this, but he can handle this. He’s a tough one. Takes more than that to crack him.”

“But everyone has a limit.” Robin takes a deep breath, the tears retreating. She puts on a smile. Her reflection does the same. It’s a practiced expression, one too often used. “What if we take him along? Invite him to go on some rides with us? He’s probably already donning a disguise. Might as well put it to good use instead of wasting it, sitting at a table and creepily watching me.”

Boothill stares at her, incredulous in his target-shaped eyes. “Your brother? In an amusement park, actually going on the rides with us? I’m sorry princess, but the chances of that happenin’ ain’t somethin’ I’d bet my best revolver on.”

She rakes a hand through the wig, smoothing out its strands. “Maybe. I don’t know. I want him to stop working for more than an hour straight in a time when he isn’t sleeping.”

“Well, you sure as hell can try. For goodness sake, you’re his sister. He’ll listen to you more than any of us,” Boothill shrugs, the sunlight from the balcony behind glinting off the metal pieces of his jacket.

Robin looks down at her vanity, various cosmetics spread across the surface, and wrings her hands together. She looks away from Boothill for a moment, her shoulders tensed in worry.

Boothill strides over, his metal hands on Robin’s soft shoulders. She looks at both their reflections in the mirror and thinks, kind of wryly amused, of how different yet how compatible they are. She has never known a day of hard, arduous labor underneath a scorching sun, chasing an elusive target; Boothill has never had anyone to fret, to worry over him, almost to the point of overprotectiveness.

“Hey, now,” Boothill softly coaxes, mechanical voice husky yet calming, “you’re the Robin. You’re magnificent, darlin’. Now, you don’t ever let anyone tell you otherwise, ‘cause you ain’t nothing less than wonderful. If you really set your mind to it, I’m sure your brother will understand and do whatever you want. Hell, maybe he’ll even give the head position to someone else if you ask hard enough. Got it?”

Robin’s shoulders drop. They lock eyes in the mirror reflection, and she gives him a genuine smile, her hands holding onto Boothill’s and her wings softly fluttering. There’s something about his words that, even though she’s heard them hundreds of times before from other people, makes her actually believe him. “Got it.”

“Great, now get out there and wow us all, sweetie,” Boothill urges, jutting his chin toward the door. He extends a hand toward Robin.

In moments like these, she finds it all the more lucky that Boothill is here. Underneath that cold, beautiful exterior is a soft, gentle person looking for a purpose. She’s glad he gave her a chance.

Robin takes his hand, and he leads her up, pulling her close. Robin lets out a gasp of surprise, one hand braced on where his collarbone would be and mouth an “o” as he spins her to the door. They stop in front of it, and Boothill bends into a low bow.

“After you,” he says, hat hiding most of his face from view.

Robin opens her door and walks through, Boothill following. “I’m sorry for dumping all of that on you. This is supposed to be a happy day. You didn’t even ask for it,” Robin mumbles, walking down the long hallway, toward the stairways. The expensive statues and paintings that they walk past only further remind her of her duty to be perfect and focus on Penacony and work first and foremost. It fills her with a heavy sense of guilt.

“‘s fine,” Boothill simply says. “You oughta have someone to confide in. No good keepin’ this all for yourself, you know?”

Robin looks at their intertwined hands. She nods.

“Wow. Look at those pretentious brats.” Boothill snickers at the portrait of a former head of the Oak Family. Back straight, wings unfurled and radiating pure power, expression powerful yet patronizing.

Now that she thinks about it… “you’re right,” she agrees. The subject does look quite stuffy and stuck-up. Probably never had enough friends. She laughs. “I’ve never seen it that way before.”

“Now you do.” Robin notes how Boothill’s sharp smile disappears when he looks over the railing of the stairs.

She peeks over the railing to see what caused it, and someone is standing there. 

Sunday.

He has an unpleasant look on his face, one of disgust and disdain. It’s directed at Boothill, right next to Robin and holding her hand, but she can’t help but feel it’s all toward her.

“Good morning, Robin,” Sunday says, eyes pinned on Boothill as they make their way down the stairs. Boothill’s heels clack on the marble, the sound ringing loud and clear, with each step. Sunday’s voice is cold.

“Good morning, brother.” She tries her best to remain upfront and cheerful. Sunday has changed out of his professional clothes, settling into a light blue hoodie and jeans. They still must be designer clothes, because can you imagine Sunday wearing cheap street clothes? But they’re, well, actually casual. She was so sure Sunday had no idea what the term ‘casual’ meant since all she saw him wear were suits. But she’s been proven wrong.

Sunday nods, acknowledging her greeting, but he hasn’t taken his eyes off Boothill, no, not even once. Boothill levels Sunday’s stare, his smile not at all friendly. Robin feels trapped between them, her gaze warrily going from Sunday to her partner. 

She watches Sunday take a deep breath, shoulders rising then falling, then his gaze softens as he finally looks at her. “Well, Robin, are you ready to go? I see you’ve got quite the disguise already.”

Robin is so, so glad for the change of tone. “Shouldn’t we be talking about you? You’re finally out of that suit, for once.” She tries not to let the wistfulness and sadness bleed into her voice. She wishes Sunday (her brother, maybe? Eventually, or is she holding onto an unlikely future?) could dress like this every day.

“Well, I’ll be going to the park with you, so it’s only fitting that I stay undercover. I have upset a lot of people to attend this with you,” Sunday says. “You look beautiful, as always.”

Robin holds onto Boothill’s hand tighter. He squeezes back. ‘Attend’ as in business matters. This is still Sunday, the head of the Oak Family, and not her brother. Never her brother, it seems. “Thank you,” she replies.

Sunday opens the door for her. He lets her walk through, and she pulls Boothill through before Sunday can intentionally close the door after him.

The air outside is warm. Perfect for a trip like this.

“Isn’t the weather wonderful today, Boothill?” Robin asks. She can feel Sunday’s glare on Boothill’s back. She can tell Boothill can feel it too. 

“Yeah, darlin’, it’s wonderful,” Boothill answers, voice and posture stiff. A fancy car — always extravagant, always over the top —is sitting in the driveway, and Sunday takes out a key from his pocket. Unlocks the car.

Boothill reaches forward and pulls open the passenger seat door, tipping his hat low and winking at her. “You first.” He guides her into the car’s back seat like a princess to a carriage, their hands never separating. Sunday must be having several strokes just watching them.

She so desperately wants him to accept her relationship with Boothill and actually see Boothill as a person (cyborg?), not just as barbaric, western scum that’s beneath him. She wants Sunday to listen to her just once, without having to assert his own decisions and feelings into it.

But today is not one to spend wishing for miracles. She’s going to an amusement park! The amusement park in Penacony! Where people go to have fun and relax and forget about their problems for a short while! Robin is desperate for even a minute away from her troubles.

“Everyone has their belongings, yes?” Sunday asks when he slams the driver door, inserting the key into the ignition. Boothill pulls the car door closed behind him, his cowboy hat taken off and leaning against his legs.

“Yes. Is it okay if, uh, Boothill leaves his belt in your car?” Robin asks when they’ve pulled out from the driveway. “We can’t bring it into the amusement park.”

Sunday glances at her. “Why didn’t he leave it home?”

“He’s right here, you can ask him,” Robin suggests. The reflection of Sunday in the rearview mirror’s eyes widens and Boothill stills, next to her. She sits there smiling innocently. These two are going to talk to each other, whether they like it or not. Well, this is the perfect opportunity. She’s trapped them. Either they talk, or they risk leaving Robin upset.

Sunday caves. “Well, erm, Boothill.”

Robin beams in encouragement.

“You can leave your… supplies, uh, in the car,” Sunday hastily finishes.

“Where are your manners, Boothill?” Robin chides softly.

“Thank you, Mister, uhm, Sunday,” Boothill thanks through clenched teeth.

“That wasn’t so difficult, now, was it?” Robin asks.

Sunday looks straight forward, and Boothill looks out the window. “No,” they both say at the same time. Sunday’s look is intense; Boothill looks pained. Robin hides her smile with her free hand — the other is still in Boothill’s grasp, and dear Xipe is he clutching it for dear life.

“There, there,” Robin soothes, tucking a strand of Boothill’s hair — a mix of snow white and charcoal gray — behind his ear, careful not to touch the ammo-shaped earring. She pats his cheek, one of the only remaining parts of his organic body and flesh. His stiff posture loosens by a bit.

“Robin, how are your concert performances?” Sunday interrupts.

“They’re going well! My newest album was well received by my fans and the critics. The next concert isn’t for another two system weeks,” Robin idly comments, yawning. She got up early out of pure excitement for the day, and she’s definitely regretting it.

“Tired?” Sunday glances at her through the rearview mirror.

“A bit,” Robin confirms. “Woke up too early.”

Sunday hums, “take more care of yourself.”

“Pot meets kettle, brother.” She totally doesn’t place a huge emphasis on the last word. “You got me there,” Sunday smiles.

Robin puts her and Boothill’s intertwined hands on his thigh, head leaning on his shoulder. Her eyes are drifting shut. “I can’t wait. How much longer until we get there?”

“Two and a half hours. Enough for you to get some sleep in.” Sunday’s voice is tender, reminding her of a kinder time.

“Okay.” She yawns. “Boothill?”

“Yes?” He moves to make her more comfortable on his metal body.

“Don’t start with Sunday while I’m sleeping, okay? You too, Sunday. Don’t argue with Boothill when I’m sleeping,” she murmurs.

Her eyes drift shut before they can respond.

—

Sunday watches Robin’s shoulders gradually rise and fall, her head on Boothill’s shoulders, through the rearview mirror. Boothill is looking down, quite fondly, at his sister and smiling. Their hands are intertwined, carefully placed on the cyborg’s machine thigh.

Boothill.

He has a million questions about Boothill and Robin. Where does he even start? Just how, oh how, did his sister, sweet and kind, pick up a man as bloodthirsty and crazed as Boothill? They are not compatible, no, not even in the slightest. Galaxy Rangers are dangerous, and Boothill has an enormous bounty on his head, placed by the IPC. Boothill will only ever hurt Robin.

Sunday presses his lips into a tight white line, fuming. Now that Robin’s asleep, the atmosphere changes without her bright, calming presence. He can tell Boothill doesn’t like him, but he’s Robin’s older brother, so that son of a Memory Zone Meme can take his opinion and shove it up his cogs. Aeons, he’d gladly fight Boothill if it isn’t for Robin.

No, no, that’s wrong. He can’t fight Boothill; no, that’d be stooping to his level, and Sunday is way more dignified than a ruthless, rowdy cowboy who makes a living killing others. Having a job that requires killing is never a good sign.

But Robin is an adult. She doesn’t need that much fawning over, right? That’s why Sunday doesn’t forbid her from seeing Boothill. Someone had to keep her company. Sunday can’t anymore.

His grip on the wheel tightens, skin around his knuckles turning white. Work, work, work. That’s all there is, these days. Things in Penacony have calmed, but the rebuilding effort takes so much thinking and the public needs so much reassuring and everyone is so Aeon-damned incompetent that he has to deal with everything himself.

He curses the entire Bloodhound Family, that bartender fraud, the gambler from the IPC, the arrogant doctor, Boothill.

He takes a deep breath. May Xipe and the Harmony help them all. Save him, please.

Boothill combs through Robin’s wig, stupidly smiling. Sunday is so distracted by the action that he realizes the car in front of them has slowed.

He slams the brakes, sending them all leaning forward.

Sunday’s back hits the car seat again, and his next inhales are audible. Boothill lets loose a string of swears. Sunday is saying them in his mind, two totally different things. He does not have anything in common with Boothill except for their care for Robin.

After Boothill has repositioned Robin, who slept through the whole ordeal, on his lap, Sunday snaps: “you kiss my sister with that mouth?” Thinking and actually saying these swears are two completely different things, remember? They have nothing in common!

Boothill’s expression hardens. He doesn’t back down.

“Yeah,” he bites out. “And she seems to like me perfectly fine that way.”

Sunday can’t argue with that. Robin seems content with Boothill, and he’s trying to not think about the last time she was at peace like this with him. It’s all the work piling up, he tells himself. It’s not him.

“You don’t have bad intentions with her?” Sunday asks.

Boothill considers him for a moment, wary in his piercing, target eyes, then looks back down at Robin. “No. Why would I?”

“You’re a Galaxy Ranger. You could easily use her celebrity status to your advantage. Galaxy Rangers are dangerous, you are aware of that, aren’t you?” Sunday states, savoring the moment Boothill’s cold expression wavers. Doubt. He doesn’t even need the Harmony’s powers to sense it.

“I am well aware of what I do,” Boothill responds. But his voice doesn’t have the same confidence and surety as before. Sunday subtly smirks. “And I be darned if I bring much trouble to Robin.”

“Hm? What if you do? How can I trust that you won’t go back on your promise?”

“I may not be as refined and elegant as you, Mister Sunday, but I sure as hell don’t go back on my word.” He’s being sincere. But sincerity alone isn’t enough. There needs to be more control. Sunday knows what it’s like.

“Swear it, then,” Sunday demands, voice calm but threatening. “Surely the best cyborg Galaxy Ranger out there, who hasn’t shot a single stray bullet in his career, doesn’t need to hesitate when doing so? Since you have so much pride in your occupation, surely this is but another trivial matter?” He expertly weaves the Harmony into his words, the gentle hum of its power buzzing in the back of his mind as he taps his gloved fingertips on the wheel.

Boothill’s eyes are full of fury when he declares, “I swear it. On my life.”

“Good. Because I’ll take you apart, piece by piece and cog by damn cog if I have to, if she gets hurt while in your care,” Sunday smiles and totally doesn’t think about all the ways he can take Boothill’s body apart — painfully, preferably. “The Harmony will remember this. Thank you for swearing it on your life.”

Boothill glares at him. He looks away and mutters. Something something Robin’s words.

‘Don’t start with Boothill.’ 

The car falls into silence, the effect of the Harmony wearing off.

A memory resurfaces.

***

They were finally alone one night, when the sun had long dipped below the horizon and the stars were brightly twinkling in the night sky. Both unable to sleep, Sunday finally decided to confront Robin about her relationship with Boothill. 

“I don’t get it. Him, of all people?” Sunday asked, brows creased in worry. “He isn’t threatening you to do anything for him, right?” Fear clawed at his heart at the possibility of his sweet, dear sister being forced into doing anything. No one should have control over her — not even Sunday. He was merely suggesting what she should do as her older brother, which wasn’t ‘control.’ 

Robin gave him a concerned look as if questioning his sanity because, well, who didn’t love a bloodthirsty lunatic–cyborg who travels the universe to chase other targets while simultaneously having a bounty on his head? That was sarcasm. “No, brother, I love him. Truly. It’s of my own accord.” 

“Are you sure? What do you even find in him?” Sunday reached for Robin’s hands. He took them in his own. “I don’t want you to get hurt, you know?” 

Robin squeezed their hands. “I won’t. I can handle myself, and Boothill can protect me if I can’t myself. As for what I find in him…” she blushes, pink coating her cheeks.  

Sunday waits for her response, head tilted, the wings by his head slowly flapping. 

“It’s like, uhm, whenever I see him,” Robin explained, the blush reddening, “I just feel like there are butterflies in my stomach, you know? When your bones melt and suddenly, all you want to do is stare at their face. Boothill has a very pretty face.” Sunday would not refute that. By all definitions, Boothill’s face was physically attractive — physically. It’s whether one was attracted to him that matters. He wanted Robin’s response regarding that. 

“I feel like he understands me,” she had finally said. “He just knows what I want. And he’s giving it to me.” 

Sunday’s eyes widened. “And, uh, what do you want?” Aeons. He might be sick. Was his sister — ?  

Robin seemed to realize what he was thinking too. She quickly shakes her head, and the blush spreads. “No!” she hastily corrected. “No! No. That’s, ugh, Sunday! Mind out of the gutter! No. I want someone who can look past the superstar status of me. I want a break, if you understand what it’s like to take a break.” 

“I take plenty of breaks,” Sunday defended. It was a lie. There was simply not enough time in his hectic schedule to afford the ever-elusive luxury of rest. 

Robin rolled her eyes. “Sure. Anyway, Boothill’s kind and honest. I’m in very good hands, brother. I promise you that.” 

“I just want you to be happy.” Sunday sighed. “I don’t like him.” 

“Well, I do.” Robin’s face was set and determined, an absolute, take-nothing-else gleam in her eye. Something about her willingness to compromise had changed. Sunday wondered when it had, and how he hadn’t noticed. “And I love him, Sunday. 

“Can you accept that?” 

***

Can he accept that, huh?

Sunday rests his cheek on his fist, elbow propped against the windowsill with one hand on the wheel. He glances out the window at Penacony’s bustling metropolis, with its towering skyscrapers, bustling streets, and diverse culture brought together from hundreds of different cultures around the universe. The more populated cities have been spared of damage, thank Xipe, so their primary rebuilding focuses are the agricultural and suburban areas affected.

Penacony has always been one of his greatest loves from the start. He will stop at nothing to make sure it is a planet whose name is passed around the universe like a legend, a paradise so far and so unreachable that you can only read of its honor in fairy tales and books.

He’ll just have to figure out a way to deal with Penacony’s ruined reputation among the public and interstellar organizations.

Only if he was better.

His gaze drifts over to Robin and Boothill again. Boothill must be keeping Robin company when Sunday couldn’t, and that was almost always. Well, that settles it. Robin loves Boothill dearly, and Boothill loves her right back, swearing it on his life to protect her. Fine. If that’s what it is, then he’ll have to accept that. However begrudgingly. For Robin’s sake.

Where is the damn SoulGlad when you need it?

—

Boothill drags a hand down his face, cursing this machine body and the eleven bullets he swallowed earlier.

He knows he loves Robin. He knows he’s willing to lay out his life for him. But there was something about swearing his life for her in this Aeonforsaken car and in front of her brother, no less, that he couldn’t help but feel suspicious about. Now, he ain’t the brightest gun in the rack. However, that doesn’t mean he’s gullible and easily manipulated.

Reignbow Arbiter’s piercing arrow shoot through him now. Boothill mouths a swear, upper teeth digging into his lower lip, and glares out the window. Robin is still sound asleep.

Sunday reaches over to turn on the radio, and an upbeat, funky tune fills the car. He turns the volume down, head bopping to the rhythm of the bass drums.

How the hell this man looks so calm after threatening Boothill with dismemberment, he has no damn clue.

Two hours pass, and Boothill is about to dismember himself out of boredom.

Finally, finally, the amusement park comes into view. He recognizes the color and shapes of some of the coaster tracks of the attractions Robin was showing him a few days prior. There’s a ride that shoots its riders up the nearly straight-up track then plummets them right down.

The parking lot is almost empty when they pull through. Robin insisted on getting there a bit before the park opened so they wouldn’t be stuck waiting in lines, but she already brought speed passes for everyone, so does it really matter when they get there since they could just skip the lines?

Boothill gives Robin a slight shake in the shoulder. “Darlin’,” he whispers, adamant not to look up because Sunday will be glaring at him.

Robin’s eyes flutter open.

Boothill smiles. “Mornin’.”

“Morning,” Robin says as he leans back so she can sit up. “Are we there?”

“Right at the gates,” he confirms.

Robin stretches, yawning. “Nice."

Sunday stops the car. “We’re here.”

Boothill opens the door and gets out. He offers a hand to Robin. She takes it and steps out of the car, all celebrity and princess-like.

He produces a bottle of sunscreen from his pocket and squeezes some onto his fingertips. “Look up ‘n close your eyes,” he instructs. Robin does, and he carefully applies the sunscreen over her face, neck, and shoulders. He gives the rest of the bottle to Robin for her to lather the rest on her arms and legs and wipes the rest of the sunscreen on his fingers onto his pants. 

After she’s done with that, he places his hat on her head. 

“To protect you from the sun,” he says when she lifts the brim to peer at him. Robin returns with a smile and they follow Sunday, who has his hood pulled up and a mask on and is probably sweating like crazy. “Oh, and this.” He snaps off his belt and leaves it in the car, but not before opening up a capsule on the right side of his waist and tucking his gun in. He stores some of the bullets in his arm and pops another four in his mouth, leaving one to chew on.

Robin watches him with fascination sparkling in her ocean eyes. Boothill smirks, the sole bullet remaining held between his teeth.

They get into the express lane (Boothill tries not to look too smug at the lines of people waiting in the slow lane or pay much mind to the way they’re gawking at all three of them — what can he say? They’re all gorgeous. Especially Robin and himself) as Sunday checks them in. The attendant, thankfully, does not look too closely at any of them and tells them to place any baggage on the bins to be inspected.

Boothill and Sunday have nothing on them except their phones. Robin drops her purse in the bin as it rolls toward the staff members. It goes through a scan in a large, black box before getting returned to Robin. She thanks the staff and wishes them a nice day, catching up to Boothill a few steps ahead.

They enter the amusement park, some of the rides already opening up and functioning. Robin grabs a map of the park from a nearby directory board and unfolds it. She stops, and Boothill leans over her, chin on her head, to look at the map with her. Sunday is looking at the digital map on the board.

“I want to hit up the mild rides first, then we can progress onto the thrill rides,” Robin informs them, one perfectly manicured nail tracing their would-be path through the park.

“Ain’t nothin’ that looks ‘mild’ about this place ‘sides the kids’ rides,” Boothill grumbles.

Robin laughs, tucking the paper map in her purse. “Are you scared, Boothill?”

“What? No way,” Boothill rolls his eyes. He has nothing to fear here. He swallows the chewed bullet. There’s no way he can use that one after all the bite marks on it.

“Let’s save the grandest ride for last,” Robin looks up and points to the ride that shoots straight up, “the King of the Jungle.”

He snorts. “Corny — freakin’ — name.” He frowns. Right. Someone (he’ll find the bastard and force them to change it back) tinkered with his Synesthesia Beacon, so he can’t say words aloud. ‘Freedom of speech’ his bullets.

Robin covers her mouth with her hand, failing at hiding her smile. “I forgot that your Synesthesia Beacon does that.”

He sighs deeply. “Well, it ain’t fun either.”

“Alright,” she closes the map and tucks it in her purse. “What about Clockie’s Twisted Coaster? It’s right here.”

The coaster in question is, indeed, right in front of them. Penacony’s signature mascot, Clockie, is plastered all over the ride: its face is square and center on the ride’s tracks, the ride name in script next to it, the entire ride’s colors are all ones found on Clockie, and the stupid music blasting out of the speakers is Clockie’s theme song or whatever it’s called. 

The ride itself isn’t very long — the cart, with seats for four people, two on each side, hangs below the track and progresses up, swinging the cart, and drops down a series of curves, rotating the cart 360-degrees. The ride continues like this in an ‘s’ shape but with more exaggerated bends before coming to a stop.

Pretty mild, it seems.

“Let’s go,” Robin says. “Sunday?”

The man shakes his head. “I don’t do roller coasters. Here, let me take your purse.”

Robin is visibly disappointed, but she nods in understanding. She hands her purse over to Sunday, who tosses it over his hood carefully. “Your flash passes,” Sunday continues, taking out two cards from his pocket. He walks over, handing one to Robin. Boothill takes his when Sunday offers it to him, but the man’s gloved hand grips the card tight.

Boothill is so ready for a fight.

It doesn’t come.

Sunday lets go, looks him in the eye, and tells him, “make sure she has fun, okay?”

It takes him by surprise. He blinks, arm still extended and holding the card.

Sunday nods and turns back to Robin, who’s now practically glowing with happiness. “Go. Have fun.”

“I definitely will, brother,” Robin throws her arms around Sunday. “Thank you thank you thank you!” She backs away, takes Boothill’s hand, and tugs him to the flash pass entrance of the ride. Boothill lets himself be dragged along.

—

What? What!

Robin is so excited. Have you seen Sunday? Did you see him hand over the flash pass to Boothill? Do you know how long she’s been wanting Sunday to finally talk to Boothill without being openly hostile?

She’s practically buzzing with relief and joy, her previous disappointment from Sunday’s rejection to joining them on the ride temporarily forgotten, when she and Boothill show their flash passes to the staff and enter through the gates.

“He handed you the card, Boothill!” Robin says, just shy of jumping up and down like a child. “Wow. I can’t believe it.”

Boothill leans down to kiss her on her forehead. “Me neither. Your brother was lookin’ really unwilling. Thought he’d be out for me for at least a while. He probably still will.” He tucks the flash pass into the back pocket of his pants.

When she thinks of Sunday offering an olive branch to Boothill, or the other way around, she thought it’d be in more intimate, private settings. Like the living room in their giant mansion, way too big for just the two (occasionally three, but Boothill sleeps in her bed) of them, or in the kitchen after Robin left to use the bathroom or wherever. Not in public, not when they’re surrounded by innocent bystanders. She’s not complaining. The amusement park works too.

“This ride looks, ah, weird,” Boothill mumbles into her ear.

“Hmm? This one’s a classic,” Robin tells him. “We’re next!”

“I’m gonna regret swallowing those darn bullets,” he grimaces as the attendant opens their gate, directing them to the open cart. Boothill places his hat on the rack they have for loose items, and they get on, Robin on the inside and Boothill on the outside. They can’t hold hands through the safety seats. Well, they technically can, but Robin’s body is primarily flesh and bones so it’d be really uncomfortable for her.

“You got this!” Robin encourages, swinging her legs. The attendant starts the ride, and they move forward.

***

“Holy Aeons and all of Lan’s arrows,” Boothill says, one arm slung around her shoulder and mostly relying on Robin for support (don’t underestimate her strength and endurance — she’s a singer, remember?), “I’m gonna throw up all my bullets.”

“Hey, at least you didn’t scream,” Robin teases, giving Boothill the time to recover and stand on his own.

“Now, I was just sayin’ that ride was too loop-de-loop,” Boothill manages, wincing, “not that it was scary. I ain’t even feelin’ nauseous. It’s, ah, the rattle of these parts, per se. Aeons, what the heck. Everyday I discover somethin’ new ‘bout this helluva body.”

“Mhm,” Robin reassures, waving to Sunday.

“How was the first ride?” Sunday asks her, hands crossed behind his back and posture ever so regal for an amusement park. He must be smiling underneath that mask — his eyes crinkle. He doesn’t ask both of him; no, just Robin. That’s okay. Baby steps, baby steps.

“It was wonderful,” she declares, “Boothill wanted to throw up his bullets,” and doesn’t elaborate further. She loops her arm through Boothill’s. “Which rides next?” She tilts her head at Boothill, repeatedly poking at his cheek.

Boothill catches her finger between his teeth, bite gentle. Robin pulls her finger back. “Wherever you go, I’ll follow,” he tells her, eyes twinkling with mirth, tucking an exposed strand of her baby blue hair behind her ear, patting down her wig.

“Okay. Drop of doom next!”

Boothill’s expression drops, like the ride they’re gonna go on next.

***

Robin steps out into the bright sunlight from the darkness of the movie house. It was actually a roller coaster with a whole cinema and, of course, Clockie theme. She turns around, her wig blowing around her in a gentle breeze, and extends a hand toward Boothill, her smile wide on her face.

Boothill shakes his hair, the dual-color strands whipping around his face, and puts on his hat. He takes her hand. “Where do you wanna go next?” he asks, trailing behind her on the steps leading up to ground level. Sunday starts toward them the moment he sees Robin emerge from the exit.

“Can we stop for food?” she announces. All of the walking around and getting on the rides and general cheery atmosphere has her hungry.

“Sure,” Sunday agrees, looking at the map on his phone. “There’s a food court that’s not so far away from here. Follow me.” He starts toward a sunset retro-styled house in the distance, surrounded by palm trees and synth-pop blasting out of its speakers. It reminds her of the sunsets on Punklorde, a planet filled with cyberware and hackers. Isn’t there that one Stellaron Hunter girl from Punklorde?

“The style of that food court reminds me of you,” she comments, “don’t you think?”

“Ehh,” Boothill squints at the design, scrutinizing it, “not really. Run-down saloons and bars and the kind are more my type. But I can see myself hangin’ ‘round ‘ere, poppin’ down to the bar and orderin’ myself some booze. Bet they sell real darn booze too.”

Robin giggles at his accent. “You talk so funny.”

“Oh, really? And how do I talk, princess?” Boothill challenges, one hand on his hip.

“Like this,” Robin clears her throat, voice imitating a low, country drawl, “howdy. Name’s Boothill, darlin’s. I’m the best Ranger out there you can find. One shot from my gun, BAM BAM BAM — ” she mocks a gun with her left hand, shooting it — “and the enemy drops dead in less than a second, you hear me? There ain’t a single stray bullet in my entire career.”

Boothill rolls his eyes. “I do not talk like that.”

“Yes, you do!”

“No, I do not!”

“Yuh uh!”

“Nuh uh!”

“Pfft,” Robin exaggerates her exasperated sigh. “Fine. I suppose you don’t actually talk like that.”

“That’s right,” Boothill nods, a satisfied look on his face.

“What do you want to eat?” Sunday stops. Oh. They’ve already reached the place. She didn’t even notice.

“What’s on the menu?” Robin walks up to the menu boards above the counter, making sure to stay away from the ordering line. Her eyes scan the lines of options, mentally coming up with a list. It’s all junk food, as expected. She’s been craving some junk food anyway. Let’s hope Sunday actually lets her eat those ‘artificial foods injected with junk and bacteria.’

“I want three double cheeseburgers with two sides of fries and a SoulGlad,” Boothill announces.

Robin blinks up at him. “What?”

“Three deluxe double cheeseburgers, two servings of curly fries, and a SoulGlad,” he repeats.

“No, no, I, uh, heard you the first time. Are you sure you want that much?” It’s more than enough for one person; then again, Boothill’s a cyborg.

“I can eat a whole lot more,” Boothill shrugs. “Whadda ‘bout you?”

Robin hums. “I’ll take chicken tenders, a blueberry milkshake, and a pretzel. I hope the pretzels here have salt on them the size of dice.” She pats around for her purse, then remembers Sunday has it and he’s paying. “Sunday! We’re ready to order!”

Sunday gets up from the table he’s sitting at, meeting them at the end of the line“What would you like?”

“Three deluxe double cheeseburgers, chicken tenders, two servings of curly fries, one blueberry milkshake, one SoulGlad, and one pretzel,” Robin recites and looks at Boothill. “I didn’t forget anything, did I?”

Boothill shakes his head. “Naw.”

Sunday nods, the pleasant smile on his face he uses when he’s holding back a scathing remark. Ah, well. “I’ll go pay. You two can wait at the table.”

“Thanks!” Robin hurries over to the table before someone else can take it. It’s one of those metal wire mesh tables with benches attached and an umbrella over, taking on an obnoxious shade of orange the same color as the SoulGlad drinks. Boothill takes off his hat and tosses it on the table, letting out a sigh.

“Ain’t your brother dyin’ from the heat?” Boothill runs a hand through his hair. The weather is fair, not hot, but still warm enough to make you sweat after a few minutes basking under the sun.

Robin stares at Sunday, at the counter and talking to the cashier. “Maybe?”

“Are you sure you don’t want Sunday to go on an attraction with you?”

Robin’s smile wavers. “Well, I’m not going to force him onto anything he doesn’t want to.”

“You should. What’s a man doing, out here in a park, having no fun? Take him on a ride, darlin’. Gotta shake him up a lil’,” Boothill urges.

“After we eat,” Robin says. “I’ll ask again if we can go on Hanu’s Great Escape.”

“When I said to shake him up, I ain’t talking ‘bout takin’ him to one that, but whatever calms your horse.”

Robin beams at him. Hanu’s Great Escape is known for being exhilarating and scary. She wants to go on it with someone. The lines are typically very long, up to nearly an hour of waiting in line, but they have flash passes, and she is determined to bring Sunday on one of those rides at least once today.

“This is, ah, a lot,” Sunday says when he sets down a plastic tray with everything on the tabletop. He sits down opposite to Robin and Boothill, taking his share of the food — just a cup of soda and a sandwich — off the tray and leaving the rest to them. “I think it was somewhere around 200 credits?”

Boothill grabs Robin’s food for her, setting down the box of chicken tenders and fries while ripping open the packaging of a fancy plastic straw, sticking it in the milkshake. He takes his share of the food, unwrapping the aluminum foil of one of the cheeseburgers and flipping off the cap of the SoulGlad bottle.

“I can pay you back,” Robin opens up her phone to her money transferring app. 

Sunday brushes it off. “You don’t have to. We’re family, there’s no ‘owing’ here.”

Sometimes, Robin wants to excuse all of Sunday’s overprotectiveness and his strict rules because of how nice he is to her, the softness in his voice lulling her into a false sense of trust and security. But nice doesn’t mean kind, and Sunday isn’t exactly kind. Perhaps the only person Sunday is truly kind to is Robin, and even that has its occasional exceptions. Sunday is a control freak, more or less and however much she condemns it.

She bites into a chicken tender a bit too harshly, the meat soft and the food warm and her teeth clacking. It isn’t healthy to keep on bringing up sad topics. Today is a happy day, and she will make the most of it by shutting up and having fun. How many times has she said that now?

Boothill bites down on the burger, taking half of it as he chews and swallows. Watching him eat has always intrigued her. How does the food, organic and soft, dissolve in his mechanical insides? How does the food get processed without the chemicals and cells and nerves found in a typical human body?

“You’re starin’ again,” Boothill warmly points out, tapping her on the tip of her nose.

“How does the food work in your body?” Robin has asked this before, and not once has she gotten a coherent response.

“Do you think I’d be a ranger if I knew? ‘Cause boy, does this body need a lot of engineerin’,” Boothill groused, “this thing’s almost more trouble than what it is worth.” He takes a swig of the SoulGlad, orange dribbling out the corner of his mouth. Robin extracted a handkerchief from her purse, on top of Boothill’s hat, and dabbed at it.

“There.” She folded the handkerchief into a neat square, placing it on the table. 

“I’m waterproof, hon. For the most part,” Boothill deadpans.

“Isn’t it cute, though?” Robin counters playfully, leaning in to peck him on his nose.

Sunday, with his mask pulled down, very loudly sips his drink. Third wheeling must be sad.

“Sorry,” Robin apologizes, not really meaning it. She leans away, pressing close to Boothill, knocking their ankles together under the table. She grabs a curly fry from his box, munching on it. This place really loves their salt, huh? They’re in luck since she does too.

“No, that’s alright,” Sunday passive-aggressively says, finishing his sandwich. Boothill moves onto his third cheeseburger.

“Is that all you wanted?” Robin asks, pulling over her box of chicken tenders. Granted, there are only three left, but they can make it work. “We can share this.”

Sunday waves his hands, dismissing her offer. “It’s fine. Save some for yourself.”

“Oh, please, I have Boothill’s shares if I’m really that hungry,” Robin then makes a show out of it, grabbing a handful of Boothill’s curly fries. She likes the fries. Or anything with a copious amount of sodium in it, which, unfortunately, may be every junk food. Boothill shows no sign of objection, he’s almost done with his cheeseburger. It’s honestly kind of impressive.

“That’s fine, but I’m not hungry anymore. You know me. I never had that much of an appetite,” Sunday offhandedly mentions, casting a side-eye at Boothill. Boothill crumples up the aluminum foil of all three cheeseburgers into one giant ball.

“Okay.” Robin takes back the chicken tender, grabbing one and dropping it in Boothill’s box of fries. “For the curly fries,” she explains and moves back to eating her chicken tenders.

Boothill pecks her on the forehead. Robin giggles.

They gradually finish the rest of the food, and Sunday goes to return the tray and throw out their trash. Robin uses this opportunity to ask Boothill whether she should ask Sunday to go on Hanu’s Great Escape with her.

Boothill crunches down on a bullet. Where did he get that from? “Go for it,” he says simply.

“Really?” Robin asks.

Boothill pats her head. “Of course.”

“Okay.” Robin shuts up as Sunday returns to their table. Here goes nothing.

[shimmerwindow]

I Never Really

Part Eight

Word Count: 6.7k

Warnings: Alcohol use, mention of marijuana, brief mention of cocaine (not consumed by any main characters), smut (18+ only)

Sexual content: choking, fingering, oral (f rec), unsafe sex, plain ol' fuckin, and of course I would be lost without a creampie

Playlist | Masterlist

If the last party had been a bit overwhelming, then this party could be described as sensory hell. Within only a few seconds of being there, you saw a group of zombies playing beer pong in the front yard, and two Sesame Street characters doing cocaine off the kitchen table. You were a bit nervous, sticking close to Sam’s side as he guided you into the house. His brothers stood in the living room, a drink in each of their hands, chatting happily with the group assembled out there.

“Sammy boy!” Jake exclaimed upon seeing the two of you, running over to give both of you a hug. He was dressed as a pirate, the pieces of his costume almost a bit too accurate, like he’d stepped out of a different era. When he wrapped his arms around you, you were hit with that familiar scent, memories of the last party rushing back to your head.

He looked you over, trailing his eyes over your figure the same way he’d done the first time you met him. It made something inside you ache, something you couldn’t quite describe. He caught your eyes and you noticed he’d put on eyeliner, just a bit, just enough to make his gaze feel even more piercing.

Josh followed close behind, pulling you into a tight hug. “You look incredible, sunshine. My lord.” He looked you up and down, gesturing at you with a point of his finger. “Doesn't she look amazing?” He asked, looking between Jake and Danny, who had come over to join you.

“Quite beautiful. Very angelic,” Jake said.

“You look outstanding. None of these guys deserve to see it,” Danny joked with a whisper, cupping a hand to the side of his mouth like he was telling you a secret.

A blush rose into your cheeks, and you shook your head. “I just…wanted to look nice. And you guys all look awesome.”

Josh was dressed in a classic hippie getup, with a pair of huge sunglasses, flared pants, and a vest over his otherwise bare chest. Danny was dressed as a cowboy, and he’d gone all-in on the fit, cowboy boots and all. He had on a hat that looked far too nice for a Halloween outfit.

“Is that your hat?” You asked.

He tipped the brim at you, doing a goofy bow with one hand on the comically large belt buckle he was wearing. “Darn tootin’, little miss. Got it alongside the boots a few years ago.”

You placed a hand over your heart, returning the mock accent he’d put on. “Oh, my. What a gentleman you are!”

Jake offered to grab you and Sam a drink, and you happily accepted, following him into the kitchen while Sam took a seat in the living room with the other two.

“So, who are you trying to impress? Or make jealous?” Jake asked, taking the top off of a bottle of tequila.

“I’m sorry?”

He gestured towards you. “The costume. You’re the hottest one here, no contest. Did you get your heart broken recently?”

“I…no. Well…” You watched his hands as he poured you a drink that would certainly be too strong. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I won’t pry. Unless you want me to.” He handed you your drink, and started making another one.

You took a cautious sip, pleasantly surprised. You could barely taste the alcohol. “This is good.”

“Thank you. My secret recipe.” He finished his own drink, swirling it around in his hand for a moment while he leaned against the counter to face you. “I’m guessing you made up with Sam?”

You nodded. “He apologized. He explained how–” You cut yourself off. You definitely shouldn’t repeat his explanation to Jake, of all people. “He just explained why he was mad. But it’s all okay now.”

“That look in your eye,” he pointed at you, squinting his eyes. “You’re still mad at him, aren’t you?”

It was genuinely annoying how well Jake could see right through you. Like he was reaching into your brain and stealing your thoughts. It almost felt violating, the way he seemed to always just know.

“A little.”

“Because of that fight?”

You hesitated for a moment too long. “Yeah.”

He gave you a knowing smile. “You don’t have to lie to me.”

“I’m not lying.”

“So what was his excuse?” He eyed you over the rim of his cup as he took a swig.

“I don’t want to get into it, honestly.”

“I won’t push. Just want to make sure you’re alright.” He was being genuine, that much you could tell for certain.

“I appreciate that, Jake. I really do.”

He gave you a smile, the kind that made you a bit weak in the knees, and gestured towards the living room. Sam and Danny were deep in conversation on the mantle of the fireplace, and Josh was in the corner chatting up some group of people you didn’t recognize. The two of you took a seat on the couch, and you made yourself small in the corner against the arm rest, your legs tucked under you.

Jake was a good talker. He made worthwhile conversation, even though you weren’t entirely in the mood to talk about anything. He asked a lot of questions, and the two of you would spiral off into a tangent regarding that question. At one point, he mentioned the band, the one Sam had said they were trying to drag him into.

“Do you guys have a name?” You asked.

He shook his head. “It's not serious enough for that, not yet. I want a name to come organically, when it’s time.”

“Makes sense. It would suck to pick a name and want to change it later.”

“Exactly.” He flicked his finger against one of your wings, sending it bouncing back and forth. “You should come to one of our little shows some time.”

“Where at?”

“We just play out of the garage, or back there, typically.” He gestured to the back of the house.

“Are you any good?” You smirked.

He laughed a bit, then gave you a wide-eyed, serious look. “The best.”

“Text me about it some time. I’d love to come, if I’ve got some free time on my hands that day.”

“I will,” you smiled.

The two of you sat in comfortable silence, and you listened in to the conversations around the room. Sam’s voice reached your ears first, the sound of it so familiar and enjoyable that you seemed to pick it out of the crowd easily.

“She’s great.” He was still talking to Danny.

“You don’t sound very excited.” Danny's voice was harder to pick out, but you could hear it nonetheless.

“Nah, man, I was with her the other night. She’s a really sweet girl.”

Your skin prickled and your fingers tensed up. She. Her.

“She’s gorgeous,” he went on.

“Are you guys together, or what?”

“Not yet.”

You’d heard enough. Not yet. Those two words felt like a gunshot straight to your chest. You could barely hear Jake over the noise of your thoughts as he prodded you with a quiet “Hey.”

You didn’t respond.

“Hey.” He called your name, placing a gentle touch on your arm that finally snapped you out of your trance.

You blinked at him a few times, your fingers white-knuckled on the armrest of the couch.

“You okay?” He looked at you with genuine concern.

“Yeah, I just…” you cleared your throat. “I think I need another drink.”

“Not a problem. Follow me.”

You could feel Sam’s eyes burning a hole in the back of your head as you walked away with Jake, back into the kitchen, where he mixed you up another drink.

“Stronger this time,” he warned, handing it to you.

“Thanks. I need it.”

“Listen, sweetheart. What's going on with you?”

You shook your head. “I already said I don't want to get into it. Just exhausted, that’s all.”

“Well, letting it fester doesn’t seem to be doing you any favors.” He pinched one of your wings between his fingers and pulled at it. “Come here.”

He led you out the back door, and the two of you took a seat around the fire. He slid his chair across the grass as close to yours as it would go. “I can keep a secret, if that’s what you need. Just talk to me.”

“Jake…” This was only the second time you’d interacted with him. You weren’t ready to open up about anything to him – at least, not in your partially-sober mental state. “I appreciate you worrying about me. I really do. But I can't get into specifics with you.”

He toyed with the ruffled sleeves of his shirt. “Then be vague.”

“Well,” you sighed. “Do you ever just feel like everything is crashing down around you all at once?”

He nodded. “I know the feeling quite well.”

“That’s just kind of where I’m at right now.” He was basically a stranger to you, but you couldn’t help but open up just a bit around him. He radiated an aura that made you feel seen and understood, and the way he was apparently able to read your mind lent greatly to that feeling.

“I don’t want to overstep, but you know you can come to any of us about anything. These guys–” he gestured at the house. “They care. I care. Sam, especially. He really–”

“He is the issue,” you blurted out, cutting him off.

Jake shut his mouth, rocking his chair back and looking into the fire, processing your outburst. “So…” he trailed off, clearly not sure how to proceed.

“I just can’t figure him out.”

“You did only just meet him a month ago,” Jake countered. “Just give it some time. Don't let one fight taint your entire image of him.”

You were quickly painting yourself into a corner with this line of discussion. You couldn't exactly tell him why you were upset, without a full declaration of your love for Sam. “You’re right.”

“He’s smart. Smarter than anyone else I know. Guys like that can be a bit confusing.” He gave you a small smile. “Just let it go, whatever you’re still mad at him about. Your whole world doesn’t have to fall apart over one argument.”

You wished that this was something so simple, something you could just let go of.

“You need a sippy cup for that?” He pointed at the drink in your hand, still mostly full.

“Yeah, actually,” you giggled. “A princess crown too.”

For just a little while, Jake was able to make you forget all about the pain that still throbbed in your heart. Your typical worries washed away with every sip of the drinks he made you as the minutes turned into hours. You watched as all types of ghouls, monsters, and characters shuffled around the fire. The occasional couple in matching outfits would sometimes come by, and you had to avert your eyes every time, your mind drifting to the other half of your angel-devil getup that was wandering around the house somewhere.

Sam made an appearance at one point, sitting right next to you. Jake gave him a side-eyed look, glancing between you and him a few times, but he kept his mouth shut. You were a bit nervous he would leave the two of you alone. You weren’t sure you could handle that right now. Just looking into Sam’s eyes was enough, you didn’t want any more than that. He could sense it, you were certain. Something had shifted, and the air between you was thicker now. Conversation between the two of you was brief and clipped.

When he finally walked off with some guys you’d never seen before, things felt different. Jake was gazing at you intensely, giving you that same look he’d given you at the first party. Looking at you like he could eat you alive.

“You know,” he began, leaning a bit closer to you. “We never finished our conversation from the other week.”

You wracked your brain trying to recall what he was talking about, visibly lost.

“So would you be mad if I was?”

His words seemed like complete gibberish at first. But when he raked his eyes over your body, it came rushing back in like a tide, a knot forming in the pit of your stomach and your legs crossing a little tighter. That had been his response when you’d asked him if he was flirting with you.

“Not at all.” You said it with no hesitation, not a doubt in your mind. He was enchanting in a way you couldn’t describe even with a thousand metaphors.

He ran a hand through his hair, a gesture that reminded you deeply of a certain someone. If you couldn’t have him, then you’d take the next best thing. The thought felt evil, dirty, sickening, even. That you were even considering the one thing you knew would hurt him more than anything else…it wasn't like you.

As if right on cue, the yard became eerily silent. Something had drawn the crowd inside for now, and it was just the two of you, a group quietly passing a joint in the opposite corner of the yard, and the crackling of the fire. His hand came to rest on your thigh, just below where the stockings were wrapped in a neat little white bow. It was there for comfort, but the warmth of his palm singed your skin and sent flames raging through your body. Your stomach dropped, and you wondered how a man could make you have such a reaction to such a simple, innocent touch.

“You okay with this?” He asked.

Whether he meant his advances, or his fingers burning right through your skin to the bone, was not clear to you.

You would lie to yourself every chance you'd get, but you weren’t stupid. Jake was clearly into you. The tension was palpable now that the two of you were alone, if only just for a moment. You were a perfect level of drunk at this point. Still lucid, but your inhibitions dulled to just the right level. “I’m fine, but…this costume,” you whined. “It’s so uncomfortable.”

Jake looked at you with a fire in his eyes that could scorch you, so intense you averted your gaze. It was like he had grown bigger, eclipsing everything in your vision. He burned brighter than the fire that illuminated his stunning features in a brilliant orange. “Is that so?”

You nodded.

“What a shame it would be if someone took it off.” His tone implied that he was joking, but the look on his face said quite the opposite.

“Yeah,” you giggled. “I look so nice, I can’t imagine what I would look like with less clothes.” Flirting, especially the kind you were doing now, wasn’t something you did often. In fact, you weren’t sure you’d ever done this kind of thing before.

He tilted his head at you, raising an eyebrow. “Is the little angel trying to ask me something?”

“Am I not making it obvious enough?”

You knew the gravity of the choice you were making. This would be a secret you could not keep forever, actions you wouldn’t be able to take back. None of that mattered anymore, though. There was one man you truly, unequivocally wanted, and he was not yours. He would never be yours. If he wanted you, he would be the one next to you right now.

“Plenty obvious, dear lady.” He belted the words in an accent you’d heard a few times before. “Come with me.”

“I expected something a bit more romantic from you, Jakey.”

He smiled at you, but the fire never left his eyes. “I don’t think I need to seduce you any further. Shut up and follow me.”

You felt dazed, completely out of your body as he took your hand in his and rushed you through the house and up into his room. Before you had time to come back down to reality your back was pressed up against a door and Jake was mere inches from your face, eyes piercing straight through you, his hand wrapped around the back of your neck. He pulled off the headband that held a halo to your head, tossing it away somewhere behind him. So sickeningly poetic, an obnoxiously obvious metaphor.

“You’re sure you want this?” He asked, drawing a bit closer.

You weren’t completely sure of anything anymore. The one thing you knew was that this was real, he was here, and those gorgeous eyes were staring right through you. Eyes you saw in many dreams. You’d been holding back from running your fingers through his hair all night, and it had now become impossible to deny the way he made you feel. Your heart raced, blood rushing through your veins at an impossible speed. He smelled different this time, some different type of cologne. Yet there was still the underlying scent of him, of Jake.

He leaned forward and you were certain your insides turned to ice water when his lips met the side of your neck, placing a delicate kiss there. “I won’t take the most intense fuck-me eyes I’ve ever seen in my life as an answer, angel. Speak.”

“Yes.”

“I need more than that.”

“Jake, please…” you whined, drawing a gasp when his teeth raked across your skin. “Please just…just touch me.”

His fingers snaked up into your hair, giving a gentle tug to the side as he finally bit down on your neck. A soft moan escaped your lips as he sucked bruises into your skin. You knew you should stop him, tell him he can’t, people will see if he marks you up. But you just didn’t care anymore, and it felt far too good to stop him. So what. Let them see.

He wrapped his arms around you, walking you back towards the bed before almost throwing you onto it. He practically ripped his shirt off, throwing it to some dark corner of the room. He put a knee up on the bed beside you, and you leaned back as he leaned forward, until your little wings touched the mattress. He was crouched over you, silhouetted by the lamp light behind him. You were suddenly very aware of how quickly you were breathing.

“You alright?”

“Jesus, how many times do I have to say yes?”

“My name is Jake, actually. And I just want to make sure you’re happy, little angel.” He gave you such a sweet smile you thought your heart would burst right then and there.

“I couldn't be any happier right now.”

He descended onto your bare collarbones, biting against your skin with perfect pressure. You couldn't say a word, only gasp and whine under him. It felt too fucking good to finally have him like this.

You weaved your fingers through his hair, tugging at it gently, pulling him away from your neck. He moved willingly under your touch, more than you expected. You arched your back and reached for the zipper that held your costume around yourself, but his fingers wrapped around your forearms, squeezing just a bit too hard.

“Keep it on.”

“But–”

“I said keep it on. Did you not hear me, or are you choosing not to listen?”

Your heart skipped a beat, and he took your stunned silence as a chance to lean forward. There was a pause when your lips brushed. This was it, this was the point of no return. When you would awake from a dream where Jake had been right where he was now, sweat drenching your sheets and a throbbing between your legs, this was the thing you swore you would never do. This was the line you swore you would never cross, for fear of hurting Sam. None of that mattered anymore. He didn’t want you. He fought with you. He yelled at you. The line disappeared, and you crossed it without a doubt in your mind.

You pulled Jake in, unceremoniously, and your lips crashed together. He was soft, gentle, he moved with you. Your grip tightened in his hair when he sucked your bottom lip between his teeth, giving it a gentle bite. You pulled him away from your lips and he went with ease, staring at you with wide eyes.

He seemed so compliant, so eager to please you. You ran your thumb over his lips, and you couldn't help but envision him buried between your thighs. And as if he could read your mind, he began to crawl down the length of you, leaving kisses wherever his mouth could reach. He rested his head against your thigh, eyes flicking between you and the fabric draped across your lap. Like he was preparing himself.

“Jake…” You shifted your hips, growing desperate for some kind of touch.

He shushed you, trailing his fingers up your bare leg, just barely grazing the skin, making you shudder. “Wanna take my time.”

Painfully slowly, he pushed your skirt out of the way, the fabric gathering around your hips, your lacey panties on full display now. You propped yourself up onto your elbows to get a better look at him, though the sight of him there was almost too much to bear.

“You look soaked already. All I’ve done is kiss you, sweet girl.” A grin spread across his face as he met your eyes. “You need me that bad, huh?”

“Obviously,” you whined.

He ran his thumb across the fabric of your panties, gently pulling them to one side. He ran a finger through your folds, staring at you like you were the most beautiful thing he'd ever laid eyes on. “All for me?” he breathed.

“All for you.”

He tore your panties off as quickly as he could, and slid a finger into you, and you felt completely breathless, dropping back down against the sheets. He moved masterfully, working you open, playing with you like you were a little toy for him.

“Oh fuck, Jake…” you stuttered over your words, every syllable a whimper.

“Louder, angel.”

You looked down at him, his eyes blazing into yours, dark and hungry.

“But they'll hear–”

“Let them.” He dropped down, laving his tongue over your clit, and you couldn’t stop the choked oh, god that fell from your lips.

“I can’t, that's so…” you couldn't finish your sentence, your words interrupted by gasping moans that you bit back, mortified by the idea of anyone hearing you.

“I’ll just have to make you louder, then.” He spoke the words pressed against you, the vibrations of his lips making you writhe. You tangled a hand in his hair, unconsciously pushing him closer against you.

“You’ve been driving me crazy all fucking night,” he growled between licks of your clit. “I waited long enough to hear you.”

You had to bite the back of your hand to keep quiet when he added a second finger, curling them in just the right way, your other hand grabbing onto his hair for dear life.

“I didn’t even do anything,” you whined, sounding downright pathetic.

“Really?” He pressed his thumb against your clit in the absence of his tongue, sending a shiver through your body. “The whole night you were staring at me like you couldn’t wait for this.” He brought his tongue back to your clit, drawing a needy whine.

He was good at this, finding every spot you loved so quickly, testing different movements and angles, figuring out what made you moan the loudest or grab his hair the hardest. You were quickly unraveling beneath him.

“You want me to fuck you?” He asked, his mouth still against you.

“Isn’t that what we’re doing?”

He pulled away from you, looking up at you with those wide eyes that made you feel insane, his fingers still moving. Your own wetness was smeared across his lips, his mouth curled up in a sly smile. “You know what I mean.”

You barely gave it a second thought before you whispered out a quiet “yes.”

“What was that, baby?”

You repeated yourself, gasping out the word a bit louder this time.

He brought himself up onto his knees, placing one hand on the side of your head, looming over you while his fingers still worked you perfectly. “I need more than that.”

All of this, the talking, the way his voice was a bit more raspy than normal, the way his hair hung down into his face, it was all too much. You were rushing towards your peak far too fast, the buildup far too long, and the feeling must have reflected in your face a bit too clearly.

“Are you gonna cum? Already?” He said it so cocky, so snarky, with almost a laugh behind it. Like he couldn’t believe his eyes.

You nodded, words becoming impossible to form, your eyes slipping shut as your back arched off the bed.

“Look at me,” he demanded.

You looked at him through half-lidded eyes, barely able to take in his dreamlike appearance. “Jake…” you whined, reaching for him, wrapping your arms around his neck. He let you pull him closer, brushing his lips against yours as he collapsed onto you. “Yes, baby?” You could feel his lips curl into a grin and he tasted like you.

You couldn’t find words, only choked moans came out of you as the heel of his hand pressed against your clit. You were so close, holding yourself back, for what reason you weren’t entirely sure.

“Go on, do it.”

Just those simple words of coaxing were enough to send you crashing over the edge, a sound coming out of you that you didn't even know you could make. Your teeth latched onto his collarbones, biting and sucking at his skin and earning you a few soft moans from his lips.

“That’s it…good girl.” He whispered into your ear in a way that made you shiver and twist your fingers into the fabric of his shirt, your entire body on fire. It felt like it would never end, his words prolonging every sensation as he talked you through it, with words of praise and filthy commands. “Keep going, angel, doesn’t that feel good?” He asked as you started to curl in on yourself, trying to tuck your knees to your chest. Whatever he was doing to you right now, nobody had ever done before.

It felt like the longest orgasm you’d had in your life, and you wouldn’t be surprised if it was. When he felt you’d had enough, and you started reaching for his wrist to pull it away, he finally relented, slowing and eventually stopping. As you came down, he pulled back, looking into your eyes with that fiery gaze that pierced right through you. He needed the same thing, and god did it have you throbbing all over again.

“Fuck me,” you whispered.

In one fluid motion he pulled away and flipped you over, yanking your hips up and putting a hand on the small of your back to hold you down. You yelped, surprised he was able to just…throw you around like that. The sound of his belt clinking behind you was erotic enough to draw a small moan out of you. Then the sensation of him dragging himself over your core – you nearly collapsed back down onto the bed.

“Don’t worry, angel. Gonna fuck you nice and sweet.”

You buried your face in the sheets to hide the agonized groan that ripped out of you as he pressed into you. He filled you so perfectly, in a way nobody else ever had. And then he just…stopped. He leaned down over you, his forehead resting against your back.

“Jakey–” the nickname slipped out unconsciously. “Please move, please–”

“Patience, angel.” You could feel his chest rising and falling with shaky, quick breaths.

You made a pleading, desperate sound, tightening yourself around him and trying to rock your hips back against him.

“Oh, don’t fucking do that,” he growled.

You needed this for longer, needed him as long as you could possibly have him. You felt a pressing need to be good for him.

He pulled his hips back, and snapped them forward again, sending stars across your vision. You clawed at the sheets, downright unholy sounds escaping you as he settled into a rhythm.

His hands roamed over your body until one of them landed on your lower stomach, just below your navel. He pulled you closer with that hand, adding just a bit of pressure in just the right place. “I’m right there, baby. You feel it?”

You whimpered, your mind scattered in every direction – you weren't used to this kind of dirty talking. Of course you could feel him, impossibly deep, taking up every square inch of you. “Yeah, I do,” you choked out, each word punctuated by a gasp.

“You’re taking it so good, sweet girl.” His hand wandered a bit lower, grazing across your clit, just enough to make you buck your hips, but he gave you no more than that light touch.

“More, please,” you gasped, trying to draw deeper breaths to keep yourself grounded. But he knocked the wind out of you with every thrust of his hips.

He clicked his tongue and murmured a pitying aww. “Does my sweet angel need something?”

“I need to see you, please, I want to–”

Before you could finish your sentence he was spinning you around to face him, practically throwing you down onto the bed. The ease at which he could manhandle you was stunning.

You clawed at his chest as he guided himself back into you, and you were certain you’d leave scratch marks on his skin. His expression as he did so was something that you felt burn into the back of your mind, something you would never forget. Like a song lyric you couldn’t stop replaying in your mind. His jaw slack, his upper lip curled up just a bit in something like a sneer, his brows knitted together, his head tilted slightly to the right, as if he was trying to get a better view.

It felt gentler now. The rush and frenzy of it all had worn off, and he moved slowly and deliberately. When his eyes met yours, the sensations caught up with your mind, and a brick wall of bliss crashed against you. You dragged your nails down his chest, your back arching off the bed when he bottomed out inside you.

“Is that better?” The smirk on his face alone was enough to make you tighten around him.

“Much better,” you sighed.

He settled into a rhythm again, one hand wrapped around your thigh and the other gripping the top of the headboard. Like he was putting his body on display for you. He hadn't taken off the chains around his neck, and the amulets made a lovely clinking sound as they swung back to collide with his chest with every thrust. You lifted yourself up off the bed, trying to drape your arms over his shoulders–

He pushed you back down with a hand against your chest. He shifted, his hands coming to rest on either side of you.

“I want to be closer to you,” you whined, like a spoiled brat.

“I want to watch you.”

You pouted, wrapping your arms around his neck once again and trying to pull yourself up. But something held you back.

“You’re pinned, angel.”

It clicked – he was holding you down by your wings. The tiny bits of feather and fabric and wire strapped tightly around your shoulders. You wriggled under his grip, desperately trying to pull away, trying to get just a little closer to him, needing to feel more of him on you.

“You were taking it so good, baby,” he groaned. “Why all the fuss now?”

“Need you.” You tried to speak the words, but they came out as a full-fledged moan. It was almost embarrassing how needy you sounded.

His expression twisted into a cruel smile. “Need you,” he mimicked the way you’d moaned it, almost perfectly. “I need you to let me fuck you the way I know you’ll like it.”

You were stunned into silence, only able to take small sips of air through his thrusts.

But he mimicked that too. “You sound so pretty. I figured you would.” He always had a way of rendering you speechless.

All of his words, the perfect angle of his hips, the way you were pinned down, all of it was leading to a cliff edge you knew so well, the tension in your body rising to a level you didn’t think possible. It almost scared you a bit, and Jake must have read the fear in your eyes, from the way he grinned.

“Is the pretty angel gonna cum for me?”

You nodded frantically, words evading you.

“You didn’t ask permission first.”

Your eyes rolled back, your jaw dropping open in stunned silence at his words. Ask permission?

You managed to mumble out a “please” between moans.

“Nowhere near good enough,” he hissed. “Try again, or I’ll stop.” He wasn’t joking either, his hips slowing their pace, angling just away from your clit.

Every ounce of inhibition you had left went out the window at that moment, your eyes locking with his “Please, Jake, please, can I cum, sir? Please, I'm trying to be so good for you–” The words rushed out faster than your brain could process what you were saying.

He seemed to break a bit, his hips snapping forward harder than before. His hand came up to wrap around your throat, his fingers placed perfectly on top of your veins. “Say it again.”

“Please, sir,” you sobbed, feeling a tear roll down your cheek. “I can’t– I can’t wait any longer–”

“Since you asked so nicely.” He pressed himself against you again, grinding his hips into your clit, and it only took a moment before you were cascading off the edge into the abyss. It felt like falling, your entire body tightening all at once, before you burst into sheer bliss, a smile gracing your lips as Jake’s hand tightened around your throat just right. Through your clipped breaths you called his name, not a thought in your mind about who may hear.

Through your daze of pleasure, you could hear his voice, sweet and soft in your ear, talking you through it. “That’s it baby, cum for me, I’m right there with you,” before his words devolved into groans so sweet they could rot your teeth. You could feel him pulsing inside you, filling you, spilling out of you onto the sheets.

The two of you stayed like that for a while, his hand slipping off your neck to stroke the side of your face, brushing away the tears that gathered on your cheeks. He collapsed down onto his forearms, breathing heavily, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

Your voice came out of you cracked and broken, still the whisper of a moan on your tone. “Did you…”

“Yeah. I did. Fuck, I’m sorry.” He shook both of your bodies with silent laughter. “I swear I didn’t mean to. Are you…”

“Yes. Don’t worry.”

“Oh, I’m going to.”

You giggled, a pure, clean sound that cut through the fog of tension in the room. “I forgot how good that feels.” You started to tremble, wrapping your shaking hands around him. “They definitely heard me, by the way.” You could hear laughter and conversation from the floor below – there was no chance they didn’t hear you shouting his name.

“Whatever.”

You laughed again, raising an arm to run your fingers through his hair, now damp with sweat. “That was…” you couldn't find the words to describe it.

“Too rough?” He propped himself up to look at you. “You look a mess.”

You could imagine it, mascara running down your face, hair disheveled, costume wrecked. “Perfect,” you smiled.

“Really.” He planted a kiss on the tip of your nose. “Glad to hear it.” Looking you up and down, he heaved a sigh. “You’re leakin’ on my sheets, though.”

“Sorry, sir.” You crossed your legs and shot him a smirk.

He narrowed his eyes at you, a smile dancing on the corners of his lips. “Let me grab you something to clean up.”

“Not gonna do it yourself?” You teased as he rolled off the bed, pulling on a pair of sweatpants.

“What, you want me to eat it out of you? There’s a three course meal in there right now.” He shot you a look over his shoulder, and you felt a blush creep into your cheeks.

“So vulgar.”

“Nah, just rock and roll.” He tossed you a towel and you cleaned yourself up the best that you could, before rolling over to haul yourself out of bed. You stood on wobbly knees, a dizziness suddenly crashing down over you, like your mind had forgotten you were still drunk until this moment. Jake was there in an instant, his arms hooking under yours to keep you on your feet.

“Careful now.”

He helped guide you into the bathroom as a content daze washed over you.

“Shout if you need anything,” he said in a hushed tone, letting go of you and retreating from the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

Emotions you hadn’t felt in far too long rushed together through your mind all at once as you sat down on the toilet. You hadn’t had time for sex in college. Too focused on your degree, too focused on your future, you had no interest in pursuing any of the men on campus. But maybe this is what you’d been missing this whole time. This was the piece of you that you’d been stifling, holding down. The reason you couldn’t seem to forget about Sam.

For now, you could push him out of your mind, the space he’d been taking up now replaced with Jake. And that horrible, nauseating feeling of butterflies you got around Sam didn’t happen when you saw Jake. He was safe. This was platonic, this was no-strings-attached, just a good time between two friends-of-friends.

You were suddenly very aware of how uncomfortable your costume was. You threw it off in a hurry, standing naked in front of the mirror, pondering your own reflection. He’d left a few rosy bruises on your collarbones and your neck. Your fingers brushed across them, the sight of being claimed making you throb, just a bit.

Are you sore? From fucking my brother? Sam’s words echoed through your mind at an alarming volume.

I wasn’t then. But I am now.

A knock at the door startled you out of your haze.

“You okay in there?” Jake’s voice called through the wood.

“Yeah.” Your voice was broken and hitched. “I need clothes though.”

He opened the door and you quickly covered yourself with a yelp. He was holding a pair of sweatpants and an old t-shirt in his hand.

“I’ve already seen it all. You don’t have to hide it,” he chuckled. “Put these on.”

You did as he said, noticing the warm scent of vanilla that drifted off his clothes.

“I would offer to drive you home, but I…don’t think I should drive.”

You shook your head. The idea of being alone after that was an unpleasant one at best.

“You can sleep here, if you want.”

“I’d like that very much.”

He grabbed your hand and led you back over to his bed. He’d already made it back up neatly, the covers turned down, the room softly illuminated by only a small lamp in the corner. It didn’t feel intrusive to be here, it felt like home.

“I’m gonna go see how the guys are doing. You get some rest, alright angel?”

You crawled under the covers, your body immediately relaxing, releasing the tension you didn’t realize you’d been holding onto. “Alright,” you mumbled, eyes half-lidded.

You were nearly asleep before he even left the room.

Tag List: @dont-go-home-without-me @poochiesworld @stardustcatcher @83rkblogs @jaketsguitar

[13docwriting]

Hello! It's me again, giving my minute by minute review of The Giggle. I have not seen any spoilers or watched any trailers, so I know nothing. Well... I know that Neil Patrick Harris is someone lol. As a summary, I enjoyed Chibnall's era, loved the thirteenth Doctor with all of my heart, and know little about the classic series but am obsessed with nuwho. I am also weary of RTD's writing but I loved the first special and enjoyed the second. LET'S GO!

Again, last time I'll complain, I MISS LIVE REBLOGGING WITH FANS. 1. Oh my horror movie vibes again. Okay.

2. Uh. What's up with the accent for Neil Patrick Harris (NPH to make my life easier). That feels a bit... Not good. Especially with the "messed up" words to accentuate it. It just doesn't sound right. I know it's supposed to be a STUPID amount of fake, but it's boarding on offensive.

3. "I'll need a moving image" right to the jump scare lol. I don't MIND horror movies, but I don't necessarily want it for every single Doctor Who episode. A bit disappointed.

4. NPH dancing with David Tennant for those point two seconds did something to me. Also, LOVE NPH's makeup there.

5. I'm already so tired of UNIT having all this money. I don't know, it doesn't feel right. They were supposed to stay hidden so that people didn't know about them. Are we officially saying that humans know about aliens? That's the only acceptable answer I'll take as to why we got helicopters and military vehicles just out and about.

6. Awesome, AWESOME music. Always. Just, again, a thousand kudos to everyone doing this beautiful arrangement.

7. I LOVE Shirley. I love her. Representation done right, in my opinion. It's ironic that RTD can do something EXACTLY as it's supposed to be and the fumble the ball on something else in the very same episode i.e. the first special with Shirley right to "male presenting" Time Lord (see my first live blogging to hear the speech I did already lol).

8. KATE - KATE - KATE. My h e r o. My LOVE! We JUST saw her with 13 and I loved every single part she was in. Her finally seeing the inside of the TARDIS made me so happy.

9. KATE HUGGING THE DOCTOR. Awww! That is so gosh darn cute. I don't know how long it's been exactly since Kate saw 13 after the whole Master thing in Power of the Doctor, but it's so nice to see her hugging him. I was scared for a moment it was going to be a slap lol.

10. "How do we fight the human race." Uh... That's quite a plot, isn't it? I... The Doctor, thirteen especially, always made a point of saying how good "you humans" can be. Saying that humans are inherently bad just doesn't sit right with me. There's a speech roaring up with me about how RTD sees people in general and how that effects the optimistic and hopeful attitude of Doctor Who in gneral, but that'll have to come later.

11. OH HEY Melanie! I know that companion! Kind of! I've never see any of her episodes but that's awesome. SIDE NOTE... Just like with Power of the Doctor, I feel a little disoriented when I know I'm supposed to know something / really appreciate the moment and I can't. I'm so happy that Chibnall AND RTD are so very willing to let classic who people come back, I'm just always a little lost with things like this. (I wonder if other people my age feel that way? Any else 25?)

12. "Is park rude?" "Borderline". I... What? Why would you even turn to Shirley with a question like that? See what I mean about dropping the ball.

13. "Why should I care?" Prime Minister. "No change there then." Donna. hehe I love those little moments where DW shows current political distain.

14. We're... We're not gonna ask a million questions about what Vlinx is? What they're doing there? How they got there? The Doctor's not doing the usual excited dance and asking how hot their cortex runs, the amount of brain power they have, etc. Idk, seemed like a wasted moment. (Unless I'm missing some classic who stuff again?)

15. Listen, I'm a very simple lesbian... I see an "evil" Kate and I get a little excited, okay? Woman power and all that, am I right? 16. "As for you [Shirley], with that chair - I've seen you walk!" What the actual fuck. Listen, I know, I KNOW people are idiots about wheelchairs. I know some people don't know that some people who use a wheelchair aren't completely paralyzed, but to point it out in this way just feels... It feels like a misstep...? I have no right to comment, I'm not a wheelchair user, but the way RTD handles things like this always makes me nervous.

17. "The old archangel network" ahhh hello there preteen headcannons! Ahhhh the Master, how lovely a reminder of those days! God, what a plotline that was back in the day. I am not surprised at all that RTD fit that line in, let me tell you. The man seems to like to brag about his old stories (inconspicuously points to David Tennant and Catherine Tate.)

18. Why would Donna ever, ever guess that those brain waves were music? Where in god's name would ANYONE come up with that without ANY sort of hint? What kind of mary sue writing is that? I'm just supposed to take that? Talk about a convenient plot device. I don't like lazy writing.

19. "The very first image has been hiding in every screen ever since." See, THAT'S cool! I like that kind of story, where another god-like entity has that sort of power. Someone PLANNED that. As always, things like this are why I love when the Master comes back. His convoluted plots creates such great writing and stories.

20. "What, because you're so clever [at Shirley asking why they never found the Stooky Bill laugh before]." Hey 14, your 10 is showing - the parts of 10 that adult me has problems with.

21. "[The human race] is also savage, venal, and relentless." Alright, maybe I'm thinking too much about 12 and 13, mostly 13, but the distain that 14 (cough ten cough) displays for humans has ALWAYS been icky to me. The Doctor TRAVELS with humans, has worked with them, has LOVED them. You can't call an entire species monsters and then claim to love them. People CAN be monsters, but ten - sorry, 14 - has a habit of not taking the time to make that distinction between species vs person. 13, meanwhile, has never insulted a single human. She has encouraged people, genuinely wants them to be better, and only alienates herself not by pointing humans down, but by feeling so different than everyone around her.

22. "Using your intelligence to be stupid... And hating each other. You never needed any help with that". Well, congrats, this may be my least favorite episode of Doctor Who ever. I don't like getting insulted, I don't like the Doctor being mean, I don't like the tone of this episode... Doctor Who is a hopeful, lighthearted show that brings a smile to my face. Yes, it has moments that make me sob, but it's not some police drama. DW is a sci-fi show about traveling a beautiful universe. THIS is not what the show should be.

23. "Can we take out that satellite?" So Kate's waiting for permission... But, question... THE TARDIS IS RIGHT THERE. You're telling me the Doctor can't go up there, sonic the thing off to make it look like it's a technical error, and then eff of? I know writers OFTEN give the good old "the TARDIS is unavailable" to avoid thoughts like this, but RTD left the TARDIS RIGHT THERE. We have a time and space machine!

24. Side note, very side note, but are we ever gonna fix the gravity to "mavity" thing? Is that gonna come back?

25. The Doctor: "you have my permission" [to blow up the satellite]. But... But that's... What can UNIT say to that? "Oh yeah hey, our alien from outer space that we trust that you don't know gave us the go-ahead to blow your satellite up. Please don't fire missiles at us, we got the "OK." What? Just... What?

25. Oh hey, was Melanie at the therapy session for past companions in the Power of the Doctor? That would honest to god fit so well and I would love that. I'll have to look later.

26. Again, I almost have to laugh at the budget. All this money and we're using it to fire off a gun... In Doctor Who... Where the Doctor hates guns. Figures.

27. 120[k] plus five weeks' holiday." OH FUCK YEAH DONNA. Girl boss right there! You deserve that money! Freaking LOVE IT. And I'd love Donna working at UNIT. Maybe Martha and her could be best friends? Oh hey, where the hell is Martha and Mickey, btw?

28. Ha, Crowley, COUGH, I mean the Doctor on SoHo's streets once again. Hehe.

29. "Donna, I'm a billion years old". WOAH, WHAT? He can't be serious, right? No way 13 lived that long after 12's 2,000 ish years, right? Is 14 counting the confession dial? He has to be, right? I almost wish 13 mentioned her age now.

30. "But you are busy every second of every day" uh, yes. That was 13's coping mechanism. If she never stopped, she never had to think. Granted, that was every single Doctor's coping mechanism, but 13 had a lot of crap to get through and the fact that she got sent to prison with all that MUST have destroyed them.

31. Donna trying to give the Doctor mental health advice will forever be a favorite moment between the two of them for me. I'm so glad to see how much Donna cares about him.

32. NPH is just fabulous. He really just takes over the scene, even against actors like David Tennant and Catherine Tate. I was mesmerized by the ball scene. Granted, the accent makes me squint my eyes, but still... Him playing the villain will always be exciting.

33. Oh the Doctor knows him! An old enemy, that can't be good. OH and with the first Doctor as well, talk about a VERY old enemy. It's only been a billion years, eh? Hm, and the Doctor seems terrified of him. I'm getting the Master vibes. Is the Toymaker a Time Lord?

34. I sincerely wish that the Doctor mentioned being the Timeless Child to Donna when the Doctor said "what am I without my toys". I just... Donna can't understand why this speech even exists without knowing that the Doctor's entire history was erased - was taken from him. People may hate the Timeless Child plotline, but it's THERE. If RTD is going to build the emotional trauma off of that, it should be mentioned by name. I'm glad we mentioned the Flux, but the Timeless Child is what drove the Doctor nearly insane. It's what drove the Master even more insane. It should be mentioned properly.

35. Why the fuck, after that emotion speech, would these two idiots even separate AN INCH? Donna just saw how terrified the Doctor was, the Doctor IS terrified, why would they not hold hands? Why would they not stick to each other like glue. Again, lazy writing.

36. I can not explain how much this doesn't feel like Doctor Who. I can not even being to rant about how much this doesn't feel like my goofy little sci-fi show that makes me smile. I feel cheated. RTD, you got your Midnight / stupid scary episode last time and I complimented it. I cannot believe I have to sit through another one of your horror episodes. Again, the spirit of Doctor Who is the relationship and connections to how amazing humans can be. It's about hope, and optimism, and learning. Of course there's scary episodes, of course there's a step to the left in terms of how the usual episodes go, but what the heck is this?

Is it good writing? Perhaps. The dialogue, tone, and plot is convincing, I'll give RTD that. But is this MY show, my Doctor Who? No. I've said before that RTD relies on nostalgia and this episode only ferments that. If it wasn't David Tennant and characters that weren't already introduced literal years ago, how'd we even know this wasn't the same show?

37. Why the FUCK is Donna so violent? We know she's a badass, we know she's sassy, we know she's fearless... But banging that doll into the wall, a furious look on her face? Where the fuck did she learn that one?

38. How fucking dare RTD mention the Flux but bypass the fam, Yaz, and Dan. How fucking dare he. How dare he pick and chose what he liked from Chibnall's era. And you know what, let's have a laugh, shall we? Maybe he can't mention them because all of them had a GOOD ending. All of them left of their own accord. They left feeling stronger, feeling good about themselves, feeling like they've see the universe and want to make their home, earth, better. What has RTD done but killed the Doctor's happiness? And don't come at me with my own words - the Doctor could have mentioned Yaz and the fam as a defense against himself. "But I've learned - I've learned that humans are strong, that my friends are stronger than I ever could be! Yasmin Khan, Ryan Sinclair, Graham O'Brian, Dan Lewis - all them are safe. All of them are loved. They have always been the best parts of me. Now, Toymaker... I challenge you to a game." TADA. I even think I got David Tennant's correct cadence, and I never even wrote him!

If you are a showrunner for DW, you have a responsibility to the past writers to show some respect. The way RTD is handling the Flux is fine, but you can't erase the Timeless Child because it doesn't fit with your own version of Doctor Who. It has been done, get over it. USE it.

39. *Splutters* "I made a jigsaw out of your history". You will NOT be taking responsibility for the Timeless Child like this. You will not have a villain create the Timeless Child just to erase it. AND YOU TOOK THE MASTER FROM ME? MY FAVORITE MASTER? YOU TOOK SPYDOC FROM ME? Holy shit I need a drink. My rage is unfathomable.

40. To be fair, seriously, it's good writing if it WASN'T Doctor Who. I am being fair. It's heart pounding, it's exciting, but it's not the same show or the reason I love the show.

41. ... Okay, NPH... Yeah. That scene. I'm not even going to hint about what scene I'm talking about. Everyone knows. It was a 10/10 performance. It was fantastic. There's no criticism, I'll be watching that ten million times. (Damn shame they didn't let him sing it though).

42. The speech the Doctor is making to the Toymaker sounds AWFULLY familiar, doesn't it? Perhaps, the Master, once again? The Doctor just picks these god-like entities and goes "I will love you" and clings on for dear life. I assure you, somewhere in that tooth the Master is screaming "YOU ASKED ME FIRST".

44. "We can be celestial." Someone tell me if DT played Crowley season 2 before or after this. I could HEAR Crowley on that last word, come on now.

45. what the fuck. what the fuck. what the f u c k. WE'RE FUCKING KEEPING DAVID TENNANT. WHY THE FUCK ARE WE KEEPING HIM. HE'S HAD HIS TIME TWICE OVER. WHY. WHY. WHY. HE WAS A GOOD DOCTOR BUT IT'S NOT FAIR THAT HE'S STILL HERE.

RTD changed regeneration. I'VE HAD TO DEAL WITH THE HATERS TORMENTING ME ABOUT CHANGING THE DOCTOR'S PAST IN A WAY THAT DOESN'T EFFECT DW CANON, AND YET RTD CAN DO THIS?

ALL BECAUSE HE WANTS TO KEEP DT. Someone sedate me, I'm going to be the one being on walls and screaming soon. Fuck me. Let the Doctor go! That's the whole bloody point. I can't with this. If you haters out there accept this one I don't want anyone ever coming at me about the Timeless Child again. I'll just throw pictures of up this regeneration scene with a bunch of arrows. And not to mention, I hate this idea? I hate it. I hate it. Regeneration was about change and rebirth, now it's about adding a little hint of something new. It was about letting go, getting ready for a new future, handing someone else the torch of this beautiful show. Oh my god, I hate it here. I'm STAYING for Nucti. I'm honoring his first performance, but I am pissed. I might not even be able to write more.

46. "Do you come in a range of colors." What. What kind of line is that? What... Why did we even have to mention that? He also comes with a different gender, Donna, I don't think his "color" matters. That was the point of the first special, if you could remember that.

I'm taking an effing walk... Off a bridge at this point.

47. Why didn't we give the 15th Doctor trousers? We didn't give 14 13's clothes now did we? But we can have the 15 Doctor running around half naked... On a family show? Come on now.

48. We... We really... We really wasted the Toymaker with a game of catch. Really. I was just complimenting the writing and then we did that?

49. I'm loving 15's care and love. His openness. Is this the Doctor forgiving himself?

50. Oh hey, what lovely person took the Master from that gold tooth, eh? Maybe... Missy, perhaps?

51. MENTION THE TIMELESS CHILD YOU FUCKING COWARD OH MY GOD. Not you, 15, you're great sweetie. RTD MENTION THE PROPER PAST YOU ASS. You can mention all the past adventures but not the latest one? Seriously?

52. Something, something, so glad 14 got a happy ending, something something, wish 13 had that, something something, too bad Chibnall followed the rules of regeneration just as all the writers did beforehand SOMETHING SOMETHING.

53. I'm getting the mildest hint of karma because I never understood why people said the couldn't understand Jodie... I'm actually having a bit of a hard time with Nucti lmao. I always use subtitles so it doesn't matter to me, but just thought I'd mention that.

54. Nucti better kiss a man full of the mouth. He is... Quite something. Jack Harkness would faint.

55. I have a question. How is 15 older? Isn't it like 2.2 seconds only, if anything?

56. I really am glad that 14 got a family. It is beautiful.

I usually do like a summary or whatever but I'm just so bitter and pissed. Here, 3/10, two of those points are for 15 and one is for the Toymaker... Even if the Toymaker character was wasted.

[pixlokita]

Ten asks part … idk I’m losing count of these

(ﾉ≧ڡ≦)✨

Why DOES EVERYONE DO THIS ? This is like the fourth time 😭😭😭 please- @chickenmilk120

They were so bored 😔 then they signed up for more than what they bargained for TTwTT but ? Maybe seeing Greg survive the horrors will let them move on peacefully later ??? Them just spying on the three star fam and Freddy knowing is kinda hilarious to think about

@krispenelopebacon ayyy I’m responding this even later than when you sent the ask it’s good >> he didn’t really think much about it but it definitely felt weird to be in pain and bleed, he was super uncomfortable and possibly overstimulated from it even after it got treated, all the feelings and senses can be overwhelming when you’re used to being a robot without a nervous system.

@emotionalflamingo Jeremy possessing Glamrock Bonnie would be so perfect :v since fronnie is canon I think ? Anyway >> yeah he is old xD gosh darn, even as a zombie if he had met Gregory in security breach he would be more like grandpa age really

@imanol2409 hola ^^ si, la verdad me cuesta dibujar en este momento pero definitivamente quiero continuar la historia al poder :’> CC tiene muchos nombres y ya me decidí por uno pero me gusta el chiste de que nadie sabe cual es >>

@reallyorginalname1 I’m not even sure myself ? Was he a human ? Is he an experiment? Is he a really smart bear ? We might never know … he also speaks Spanish for the record but all my Gregorys do ^^ just a fun fact

@willthemechanist Aw ;0; yes you may! He will make a mess of it tho he can’t use a spoon :’v poor thing will need a bath afterwards

@justmchell yeah basically 😭 he’s just screaming high pitched and wiggling to escape but eventually gives up and falls asleep lmao

Had to look up what that means :0 maybe to an extent ? His brain does register everything as a game but unlike when he was GGY he knows there’s consequences to killing so he’s still very destructive and will even harm people if he has to but never kills even if it’s a game :> that’s the one rule he won’t break after what he did the last time he was brainwashed

@avtfol BAJDBJD axolotl are so silly no braincells xD def fits 👌yeah he could have a British accent honestly everyone did keep telling him he was speaking weird because at first I wanted it to be like he just dropped the accent and was talking like Freddy does, but some dubs just kept it and it still sounds funny and nice ? Like a mix of both ;w; it’s up for interpretation ^^ love learning about how other people picture things 💖

[beevean]

And onto Rush Adventure now:

-Tbh at first i wasnt sold on the materials grinding for ships but later liked how it gives you a reason to improve your scores on the levels so you can get more. Idk i usually dont care abt scores but w the external motivation? Yea

-Same w the misions, good way to have lil extra stuff to do (that said why did they block the sound mode songs behind misions. Game pls my internet makes opening youtube an odyssey and now this too? Cruelty 😔)

-Oh and also the ship minigames! Its fun to have a map you can explore, and the races w Jhonny for the chaos emeralds are way better than the Surely Existing special levels (also srry if i got his name wrong lmao)

-Onto the soundtrack; its more broad compared to rush, and each song does matches well the enviroment. I like the tropical coastal vibes of the main town n training level, and oh man. Sky babylon and deep core my beloveds who literally got engraved in my neurons so hard i was struggling reading hours later bc the darn tunes kept playing in the background of my skull. Well scratch that all the tunes keep playing on the bg of my skull rn, what kind of eldritch curse is this). So yes good ost 👍

-Overall the aesthetic n vibes are also more broad with that tropical relax overtone, its quite nice. The difficulty is also way more forgiving (i mean i played on easy but that's the mode the game came in) and the tutorials with the controls are helpful (yes i struggled with the jump dash in the previous game how can you tell)

- The story is also more calm and silly goofy but in a good way (can def see what ppl mean by the diff eras in sonic writing there). I also liked Whisker being the main but kinda dumb villain for funnies vs the eggmans being a bigger threat)

-I liked the scene in the coral cave where Blaze appears bc my mind was half "haha i knew we were in Blaze's world, neat" and " weeee hi Blaze, game of the year :D"

-Marine was also neat, liked her silly dynamic of cheerful kid who is a bit too full of herself and is kind of a brat abt it, and how she later learns to admit her own limits :) And the koala villagers were neat too i like their designs :)

Overall thank you for letting me ramble into your ask box abt these games, its been fun :D

lmao yeah it's a nice incentive! I think the only other game that gives you a reward with higher ranks is Unwiished (another Dimps game), where the higher the rank the more medals you get.

also sonic 🤝 hector:having to earn their crafting materials

The missions are a good way to extend the gameplay, but IIRC some of the Sol Emerald missions were brutal... I have flashes of the Blizzard Peak mission.

The waterbike was genuinely really fun and I hated that it was considered the "worst" vehicle for travel :( I don't like the submarine, let me travel the world on my tiny waterbike while the best music plays :( also yeah the Special Stages with Johnny are original! Certainly more than Half Pipe 50.0

SRA'S OST was composed by veterans Tomoya Ohtani and Mariko Nanba while trying to recreate Naganuma's style. Definitely unique and underrated. Sky Babylon used to be my favorite too! But there are so many tracks that IMO deserve more love, like Haunted Ship, Blizzard Peaks, the boss theme and Whiskers & Johnny <3

Funny to think SRA came out one year after '06, widely criticized at the time for being too melodramatic :P Whiskers is also a nice case of Eggman being the twist villain for once! Although the credits of the "bad" ending spoil him and Nega, lol. Not that Whiskers looks mysterious himself... eh you get it.

Marine seems to have been reevaluated recently, like many things from the 2000s. I remember that back then no one could stand her and her Aussie accent lmao, precisely because she was an annoying brat. She is still mildly underrated, but I think the modern fandom generally "forgave" her because they understood that she was meant to be a foil for Tails, who is more insecure.

(two fun facts: in some countries, SRA initially got a 12+ rating because Marine says "bugger", which is pretty mild for Aussie slang but is much stronger for American standards. Also, Marine is Australian because in original she speaks in Kansai-ben, and I guess that was a way to recreate the cultural connotations! That and koalas :P)

You're welcome, you're free to rant at any time <3

[twstinginthewind]

For the Winter Prompts Sledding/Skiing/snowboarding for Pun Sharing stories for Juni CAUGHT UNDER THE MISTLETOE for Jo! >:D

Winter OC Ship prompts

Punch took a deep breath of the crisp, cold winter air. He was excited to have been invited to Harveston, to spend time with Epel and his family. Winters in the Queendom of Roses were cold, sure, but they never got the same levels of snow that Harveston winters were famous for, and he was looking forward to trying out some sports he hadn't been able to before.

Epel was well ahead of him on the path up the hill. He turned and looked back at Punch over his shoulder, and shouted back to him. "Ain't got all day, Pun!" He shifted the snowboard he had strapped onto his back to a more comfortable position. "I wasn't expectin' it ta be a race, but yer makin' me wait fer ya? Come ONNNN."

Punch laughed; it was great hearing Epel finally be himself, even if he was being impatient. He wouldn't say it out loud, but he had a real soft spot for the accent that Epel's housewarden kept trying to train out of him. "I'm coming, I'm coming! I'll be faster on my way down, at least."

Epel stood with his hands on his hips, his position on the hill allowing him to look down at the taller boy cockily. "If you keep yer balance and ain't skiddin' down on yer keister. But I'll teach ya right. If ya getcher butt up here already!!"

Punch hurried up, and caught up to Epel, who gave him an affectionate punch on the shoulder.

"Atta boy, Pun. Now let's get the rest of the way up this hill, and have some fun already!"

----

(Disclaimer! Miss Moon isn't one of mine - she belongs to @twst-the-night-away, my bestie! - but I do have two possible couples with her among my own OCs, and she's friends with several others, so we're gonna go with one of those sets!)

"All right, I give up. What did you do next?" Juniper wrapped her hands around her mug of mulled cider and nudged Bobby with her elbow.

He graced her with a grin, the light from the bonfire giving his eyes an impish glint. "Well, you know that Trein never goes anywhere without that chubby little cat of his, right? And it so happened that I had picked up a couple of cans of that delightful canned tuna fish, as a favor to our lil' buddy over at Ramshackle, right? So. I figured, what would keep the old man from lookin' for those missing quiz sheets?"

Juniper's eyes widened over the edge of her cup. "You didn't."

"I absolutely did," Bobby responded, proudly. "So, since I just happened to have more tuna on me than expected, due to my excellent haggling skills, I set up to draw that lovely little puddy tat away. Nowhere that he'd get in trouble, mind! But just enough to keep old man Trein distracted."

"And that's why none of us had the quiz until the next Monday?"

Bobby shot fingerguns at her. "You're welcome."

She threw her head back and laughed, the moonlight shining in her hair. And Bobby suddenly wished he had another round of tales to spin for her.

---

Ace stepped back to admire his handiwork, beaming proudly. "Okay. It's right over the doorway. Now all we have to do is wait!"

Deuce looked suspiciously at Ace. "I don't know, do you really think it's fair?"

"Do I think it's fair?" Ace crossed his arms across his chest. "You didn't ask that when I had the idea, or when I put the darned thing up. You're asking now?"

"Well..." Deuce tugged at his collar, and looked guiltily at the sprig of mistletoe that sat jauntily above the door to Joker and Violetta's dorm room. "I know that rule 513 does say that someone standing under mistletoe is subject to a kiss, but I think setting it up like this? It kinda feels like a trap."

Ace shook his head, and tried to sound reasonable. "It's not a trap; no one's gonna make them stand in the threshold if they don't wanna be there."

"Still...." Deuce slumped against the doorframe, his head bumping against the door. "I dunno. Maybe we should take it down."

"Absolutely not." Ace leaned closer to Deuce, poking him in the shoulder. "We were told to decorate the freshman side of the dorms, and every room has a decoration over the door. It's not our fault the only thing left by the time we got to the girls' room, all we had left was mistletoe."

Deuce blinked incredulously. "You saved it for them, Ace."

"I'm not gonna say that out loud." Ace stepped back. "Geez, your face is red. Are you already thinking about which one's gonna come out of the room first? Are you hoping it'll be Joker, Deuce? Thinking she'll stop and look up and smile, and say she's glad to see you waiting there?" He smiled cruelly at Deuce, whose blush intensified.

"... maybe?" he squeaked, still leaning against the doorframe.

"HA!"

A muffled voice came from inside the door. "What's with all the yelling, tweedle dum and tweedle dumber?" The door swung open to reveal Joker with Violetta behind her, peering around the brunette's shoulder.

"Just decorating for the holidays," Ace said, sliding his hands into his pockets. "Hung somethin' real special over your door, ladies."

Deuce froze in place, directly in their doorway. "hi Jo... it's, uh.... nice to see.... 's mistletoe...," he stammered.

Violetta's cheeks went purple and she ducked completely behind Joker, who leaned forward. "You hung mistletoe over our door?" Joker asked quietly.

Deuce's eyes locked with hers and he nodded.

"And you're standing right under it, Deuce."

He nodded again. Ace guffawed in the hallway.

Joker sighed. "Well, it's not like me to willingly break such a simple rule." She took a small step forward, and breathed deeply. She whispered, "Just ask next time, knucklehead," closed her eyes, and pressed her lips to Deuce's.

Violetta made a scandalized noise behind Joker, while Ace cheered behind Deuce. "See that, I told you it'd work!" Ace crowed. "It was a perfect plan! It wa— hey. How long are you two going to... ?"

Deuce and Joker finally disengaged. "Sorry, Vivi. Rules!" Joker called back over her shoulder. And Deuce reeled back, dazed.

Ace stepped forward. "I'm under it next. Where's my kissy?"

And Joker closed the door in his face.

[chicken-fifi]

Stray Kids Reacion - Their Crush Flirts With Them in Spanish

Requested by anon: Can you do stray kids reaction when their crush flirts with them in Spanish? 🇩🇴🇲🇽 😂- 🐺💛

Bang Chan: You flirting in Spanish? Chris loves it. It sounds so beautiful and so much more romantic. He may not always know what you’re saying but man is it attractive. He’ll try to learn some Spanish so he can use his own flirty phrases in Spanish as well or he may just look up a few in Spanish himself and try his hardest to recite them. Either way, he loves it and is more than willing to struggle and learn a new language for you.

“I have no clue what you just said but it sounds so beautiful. Teach me.”

Lee Know: Okay, here we go. Minho would be flustered as crap when you start flirting with him in Spanish. He’d love it just because of how it sounds. It’s one of those cases where you could be calling him a complete dumbass and he’d love every second of it. It sends his mind places - I tried avoiding this but it’s unavoidable. You sound so different when speaking Spanish and it does things to him.

“I love it when you speak Spanish. Say something else.”

Changbin: Another one who probably loses some rational thought here. Changbin, however, wouldn’t try to hide that it turned him on. He’ll be flirting back with you - in Korean. He’ll try and repeat what you said back to you. He’ll learn a phrase in Spanish and say it to you out of the blue. I think out of everyone Changbin would be the one to go with the flow when it comes to this and try to really turn you on as much as you turn him on.

“Two can play at this game, Mamacita.”

Hyunjin: A flustered mess to say the least. Hyunjin wouldn’t know what hit him. He’d find it adorable that you felt comfortable and confident enough to flirt in another language but he’d also be incredibly turned on by it. I don’t see him doing the same as Lee Know or Changbin but he might surprise you out of nowhere with a flirty phrase of his own in Spanish. It’ll get him going for sure though. The attraction will def be heightened.

“That was hot. You could’ve called me a donkey but it was hot.”

Han: Jisung loves it. He thought he liked you before but with you flirting with him - in Spanish no less - his feelings were further solidified. He loves hearing you speak another language. It’s so attractive. And it's a bonus that you aren’t afraid to speak in another language to him - even if it is flirting. He’ll flirt back for sure. It may take a while cause it catches him off guard but he’ll for sure flirt too. I suspect he might even try to learn a phrase or two to really impress you and maybe even ask you out. 

“Me encanta cuando hablas en Español. Did I say that right?”

Felix: I feel like Felix would be a mix between flustered and turned on. Like you flirting with him would throw him off so much, but also SPANISH. HMMMMMMMMMMMMMM. He loves your accent and the way everything just rolls off of your tongue. I wouldn’t be surprised if he went the extra mile and translated the perfect comeback for your flirty phrase. I think this one would be very innocent and cute though. He’ll def let you know he likes it.

“You should speak Spanish more often.”

Seungmin: So flustered. Seungmin wouldn’t know what to do. He’d be a stuttering mess tbh. And it’s not because he couldn’t understand it. No, it was because it sounded incredible. He didn’t catch a darned thing but boy was it beautiful. I can see him having you repeat it a few times, the first couple to catch what you and after that just hear you speak Spanish. Don’t be surprised if he asks you to teach him some. 

“Can you teach me some Spanish? Please?”

I.N: Jeongin would be the most flustered. It’d catch him so off guard and give him a severe case of whiplash. Since when did you know Spanish first of all? Add that to the list of why he’s crushing on you. Seriously, could you get any better? You had to be the most incredible human ever to grace the earth as it was and now this? How was his heart going to cope? SAVE HIM. LET HIM LIVE!

“You speak Spanish too!?”

[helloalycia]

The Wrong Lifetime – Seven // Wanda Maximoff

chapter six | story masterlist | main masterlist | wattpad | chapter eight

author’s note: hope y’all like this one 👀

The Maximoffs were just as a good at throwing a party as my own parents were.

Celebrating a new book that was published at Pietro's business, they threw a party in their back garden big enough to host half the town if they wanted to. Actually, now that I thought about, half the town was probably there.

We were invited to celebrate along with them because we were 'family' now, as Oleg and Iryna pointed out, so I found myself standing in their garden getting a drink under the night sky and trying to blend in with the snacks table so I wouldn't have to mingle. Parties still weren't my thing, clearly.

People-watching was more my forte. It was amazing the things people did when they thought nobody was looking. One guy coughed into his hand and wiped it on his pants – I reminded myself not to shake his hand – whilst some woman checked if her teeth were clean on the back of a serving tray.

My gaze raked the garden, indifferent to the men who attempted to get women's attention with a boyish grin and terrible pick-up lines, or the women who lifted their dresses a little higher than necessary to steal a man's attention. I spotted my parents talking to some guests whom I'd never see before, then there was Wanda's parents laughing alongside Pietro as he told a joke to some important looking people.

Eventually, my eyes fell to the remaining Maximoff, who was looking especially beautiful tonight. A deep lilac gown adorned her figure and she wore it like it was uniquely made just for her. She probably didn't even realise, but all eyes were definitely on her; a simple stride around the garden had people turning heads to see who the lilac beauty was. Y/B/N was the most envied man of the evening, with every guy here wishing they could have Wanda on their arm.

I'd wanted to tell her just how truly stunning she looked tonight, but I hadn't been able to pull her away from my brother's side for even a second. Everywhere he went, she went, too. I'd caught her eyes maybe three times tonight since she was so involved with whatever she spoke about with the people who worked for Pietro. I didn't take it personally of course, but it didn't make me feel any better.

Y/B/N had his hands all over her, probably suspecting just how many people were checking her out tonight, and I hated the way it made me feel. Envy and jealousy came over me and it wasn't pleasant. His hand was permanently fixed on her waist, at times moving suspiciously lower and making me roll my eyes. Occasionally, he'd lean over and whisper something in her ear making her flush – involuntarily or not, I didn't know. Wanda was a good actress, appearing as the perfect fiancé to him and couple to everybody else. Or, at least, I hoped it was acting.

"Pretty ladies shouldn't be standing by their lonesome," said someone with a Sokovian accent, but sadly not the one I wanted to hear.

"Pietro," I said with an amused smile, turning to face the man of the evening. "Congratulations on the new published book!"

He smiled appreciatively. "Thank you, Y/N. How are you finding the party?"

I glanced around, disguising my discomfort with a nod. "It's great."

He chuckled, as if suspecting that was a lie, before changing the subject. "So, the book. Have you read it?"

Glad that this was something I could actually talk about, my shoulders relaxed and I nodded. "Yes! I bought it yesterday as soon as it was published. I've only read the first six chapters, but what I've read is beautifully written."

Pietro snickered, raising his brows. "Only? That's further than anyone here has read."

I smiled bashfully, eyes veering elsewhere with embarrassment. "I guess I just have a lot of free time."

He hummed with amusement. "And you must really like reading... Wanda mentioned you write, too. It's nice to know it runs in the family."

Certain my cheeks were flushed, I nodded. "Yeah, our dad, he taught Y/B/N and I how to write when we were kids. That's where my love of literature began."

"And what do you like to write?" he asked, intrigued.

I shrugged, the grip on my glass of champagne loosening as I grew comfortable. "I don't know... short stories, drabbles, novels. I mainly deal with themes of love and romanticism. We're so intent on leading our lives with what other people want that we rarely take time to think about we want... I write about that."

Swallowing, I looked to Pietro, hoping I wasn't boring him. He was a publisher after all, besides my soon-to-be brother-in-law. His opinion was important to me.

"I must admit, Y/N, my interest is piqued," he admitted, watching me with an inquisitive gaze. "Do you have anything I could read?"

"It's probably better than it sounds," I said dismissively, knowing this was just small talk.

He chuckled, shaking his head. "I doubt that. You shouldn't say such things. You never know, you could be my next signed author."

I tried not to laugh. "Nice try, Pietro."

He smiled widely. "What? I'm serious!"

Tilting my head towards him knowingly, I sighed. "We both know that can't happen."

He was grinning now, clearly entertained by my unamused expression. "Says who?"

I motioned around us with my drink. "Says everyone? The world we live in?"

He began to list authors on his fingers as he said, "Jane Austen. Emily Bronte. Mary Shelley. Louisa May Alcott. Dare I name more?"

"Okay, okay, I get it," I said, pushing his hand down and rolling my eyes at his smug expression. "But I can promise you that all of those women fought tooth and nail to get published. Their families probably weren't as accepting as they wanted them to be. There's still people now who talk about how unprofessional and lacklustre their works are. They didn't have it easy. Still don't. And don't even get me started on the reputation side of things for you... d'you know how much backlash you'd get for signing a woman?"

Pietro shrugged, sipping his drink, before saying casually, "I only care about talent, Y/N. And if you have even a quarter of the talent your brother does, then I'm happy to go from there."

I quirked a brow, trying to gauge if he was pulling my leg or not. But the kind eyes looking back at me suggested he may not have been. Either way, the idea of actually being published – something I'd been dreaming of since I was a kid – was enough to raise my suspicions and make me shake my head.

"Thanks for listening, Pietro," I said conclusively, hoping he got the hint.

He nodded, accepting my word, thankfully. "Anytime. Hopefully this isn't the end of this conversation, though."

I cracked a smile, knowing it was but giving him the benefit of the doubt. He pursed his lips, glancing around briefly before attempting to hide an amused smile.

"What are you smiling at?" I teased, nudging him in the arm slightly.

His eyes met mine, sparkling with mischief. "You've probably not noticed, but as we've been speaking, almost everyone in this garden has looked our way."

I cocked my head with confusion, smile still present. He nodded subtly, eyes flickering to the right, so I followed his gaze and inconspicuously looked around. He was right, as murmurs of gossip escaped people's lips, their eyes trying to get a good look at the two of us. Even our parents were looking our way, no doubt discussing our future wedding affair.

"Wow," I breathed out, trying not to laugh as I looked back to him. "You'd think they'd have something better to do."

He leaned in, muttering, "Wanna give them a show?"

My eyes flickered between his, seeing that roguish charm of his come to life. I couldn't resist his mischievous attempt to piss off our parents, so of course I nodded with a stifled laugh.

"Care to dance, Miss Y/L/N?" he asked, a little louder than he needed to, attracting more attention.

I grinned, grateful for the idiot that was Pietro. He was already making my evening ten times better than it was.

Resting my hand in his outstretched one, I nodded. "Thank you, Mr Maximoff."

I barely had chance to put my glass down before he led me to the area before the live band that was strumming a lovely upbeat ballad. We joined the other couples that were also having a dance, unbothered by their nosey stares.

Bowing dramatically, he smiled and I curtsied before resting a hand on his shoulder and the other in his. He rested a hand on my waist respectfully before a grin spread across his lips and he began to dance me around everybody else, way too fast for me to keep up.

"Pietro!" I exclaimed between fits of laughter, trying not to trip over my feet or his.

"You said we could dance," he answered simply, before spinning me around.

My eyes went dizzy as he dipped me, making me laugh joyfully. For the first time all night, I was having fun. When he pulled me up, his eyes motioned to the left of us.

"D'you think our parents have already picked the wedding venue?" he teased.

"Definitely," I said with a nod, before shoving him back slightly. "But you, mister, need to slow down. You're like a speedster with the dancing. We should call you Quicksilver."

He laughed, continued to dance me around but much more slower this time. "I like that. You're clever. I can see why Wanda has taken a liking to you."

I knew he didn't mean it like that, but my heart dropped to my stomach anyway. A hearty chuckle escaped his lips as he noticed my expression. Thankfully, he didn't question it and we continued to make a fool of ourselves for a few more songs before taking a break by the snacks table.

"You're an idiot," I told Pietro as we caught our breath, but a delighted smile was on my lips. "You know you've probably convinced our parents that we're a couple now, right?"

"Hey, you're the one who started to fluff my hair like you loved me!" he retorted with humoured eyes.

"Because you're just so darn cute!" I mocked him, before moving forward and going in to fluff his hair yet again.

He attempted to smack my hand away as he said, "Hands off the hair, Y/L/N! I styled it perfectly!"

Grabbing my wrists, he held me back and I tried not to cry with laughter at the expression on his face.

"Such a child," I decided, pulling my hands away. "Whatever happens from here on out is definitely your fault."

He scoffed, as if ready to refute that fact, but before he could say anything, my brother's voice was heard.

"It's nice to see you actually conversing with people for a change, but maybe not my publisher."

Pietro and I turned and saw Y/B/N and Wanda approaching us. My brother seemed entertained by Pietro and I, looking between us with pre-conceived ideas that we may have already fancied each other, just like everyone else had tonight. Wanda, meanwhile, was watching me with a smile that didn't reach her eyes.

"He's good company, what can I say?" I joked, returning my brother's smile.

"Oh?" He raised a brow, knowing look in his eyes.

I rolled my own, trying not to laugh at his insinuation. There was no point trying to convince him otherwise.

"I was just giving Y/N here the best evening ever since she was moping around in the corner," Pietro explained nonchalantly, making me smack his arm.

"I was not moping!" I defended myself.

He shrugged, ghost of a smile on his lips. "Whatever you say."

I gave him a playful glare before focusing my attention to the couple before us.

"As lovely as it is to see whatever this is," my brother continued to make things awkward as he motioned between us, "I came to get Pietro. Someone from the press is here and has questions about the book."

At the mention of this, Pietro straightened up and neatened his bow tie, flashing my brother his most confident smile. "Lead the way, Y/B/N."

After assuring Wanda he'd be back in a second, Y/B/N let go of her waist and guided Pietro to the members of the press. Glad that he'd finally left her side, I looked to Wanda with a soft smile.

"Hey," I said quietly, glancing around before saying what I'd wanted to say all night. "You look radiant tonight, Wanda." 

Unexpectedly, she crossed her arms and pressed her lips together firmly. "How was your dance with Pietro?"

Her green eyes, literally green with envy, watched me with distaste. It didn't take long for me to recognise that familiar jealousy entwined in her expression because it was probably the same way I looked when she was with my brother. For some reason, this made me smile with amusement.

"He's a very good dancer," I said, half truthful and half trying to poke fun.

She wasn't amused. "Yeah, everybody saw. You've been all over him."

I covered my mouth, trying very hard not to laugh. "I mean, he's pretty funny to be around. I can totally see why everybody wants us to get married."

Her jaw clenched as she narrowed her eyes at me.

"C'mon, it's a joke," I said lightheartedly, nudging her in the arm. "You know that."

After internally debating whether or not to believe me, she relaxed her shoulders and unclenched her jaw. "I know."

"So, what's the problem?" I asked, raising a brow and smiling playfully.

She rolled her eyes. "Nothing."

My smile faded as I searched her eyes. "C'mon. What is it? You know you can tell me."

"Forget it, Y/N," she muttered, avoiding my eyes.

Realising she was still clearly bothered, I sighed dramatically, hoping to lighten the mood. Making sure my voice was low enough for only her to hear, I said, "I only danced with him to annoy our parents. Same with him. He's clearly not interested in me and neither I with him. That's why we get along so well." Teasing her once more, I added, "If circumstances were different, I'd like to think we'd be good friends. He's quite handsome, though I think the good looks are a Maximoff twin thing. Maybe if–"

"I'm in love with you!"

I paused, blinking, unsure if I'd heard correctly. Her cheeks were flushed as she looked to me with exasperation.

Glancing around to make sure nobody was attracted by her outburst, I swallowed hard. My heart was pounding in my ears as she said what I'd been struggling to accept for the past two months.

"What?" I breathed out, raising my brows with surprise.

She licked her lips, realisation replacing her look of admission. Opening her mouth to say something, she stepped forward, but my brother returned with an oblivious smile on his face and interrupted the moment.

"Wanda, the journalists want a picture of us for their article," he said enthusiastically, returning his arm around her waist and tugging her close, making my skin crawl.

Her gaze lingered on me for as long as she could before looking up to my brother with a halfhearted smile.

"Sure," she agreed reluctantly.

My brother nodded at me before leading Wanda away. She gave me one last look, her eyes trapped with unsaid words, before leaving with him. My mouth went dry as Wanda's words echoed in my mind. She was in love with me. And I knew I was in love with her, too. I had been for a while.

But wouldn't admitting that make this whole thing a lot more complicated?

—

"Will you stop shaking your hand? It's very distracting."

I stopped shaking my hand and gave my mum an apologetic glance before facing the door again. I was extremely eager and nervous to see Wanda again, as I hadn't been able to see her for the rest of the party last night.

Her words were permanently resounding in my mind all night, making it difficult to fall asleep. The reality of our situation had dawned on me and I knew that even though everything would become more difficult between us, I had to tell her that I felt the same way. The last thing I wanted was her panicking that I didn't. Because these last two months loving her in secret were better than anything I'd experienced in my life.

Iryna and my mum had made plans to hang out today, including Wanda and I in the plans without actually telling me until this morning. I didn't mind though as I was hoping it could be an opportunity for us both to finally speak.

The front door opened to reveal Iryna with a bright, inviting smile. She exchanged greetings with us both and ushered us inside instantly. There, waiting, was Wanda, looking as gorgeous as ever. A calm suddenly enveloped me as I looked to her, my heart fluttering in my chest more so than usual. She loved me and that thought alone made me feel giddy inside.

"You must come upstairs to the closet with me," Iryna insisted before I could utter a word to the brunette. "I've been very silly and impulse-ordered a bunch of new dresses. Of course, the only way to fix that is to try them on."

My mother laughed alongside her and the two of them looked to Wanda and I questioningly. I smiled their way, glancing at Wanda, before following them upstairs. Maybe later.

I spent the next hour trying on clothes against my own will, modelling them for Wanda and our mothers awkwardly. Ecstatic, our mothers threw their opinions out at me, but I was barely listening because all I could seem to focus on was a quiet Wanda. I couldn't read her mind for the life of me – she was getting better at hiding how she truly felt.

Wanda also tried some dresses on, still not as enthused as she usually was, but neither of our mothers seemed to take notice. I sat on the lounge sofa alongside them, eyes unable to look away from Wanda as she modelled the dresses. I had no words, my mind hazy and tongue tied as she stole my breath away for the millionth time. She was ethereal.

"...what do you think, Y/N?" Iryna asked, forcing me to look away from Wanda and to her. "She should keep this one, shouldn't she?"

I hummed in agreement, looking back to Wanda, who was avoiding my eyes. "She should. I don't think I've ever seen a dress so perfect for someone before."

Our mothers didn't seem to think much of my comment, but Wanda finally looked up, not ignoring me for the first time since I got here. I offered her a small smile, hoping she could see what I'd been wanting to say to her since last night. But she looked away, chewing on her lip and looking down.

"I'm gonna change," she mumbled, before turning to go back behind the curtain.

A sigh escaped my lips as I leaned back against the seat. I'd just have to find a spare moment.

Iryna and my mum proceeded to try on a bunch of dresses before we called it a day and were ready to eat lunch.

"I want you to have these, Y/N," Iryna told me as we all stood up, motioning to the pile of dresses on the arm of the sofa. "It's my gift to you."

I raised my eyebrows. "Oh, Iryna, you don't need to give–"

"Don't be ridiculous," she cut me off with a wave of her hand. "You're family now. Anything for my daughter-in-law."

I smiled awkwardly, not missing the eye roll from Wanda, before nodding. "Thanks..."

She looked to her daughter. "Wanda, medovyy (honey), can you help her pack them away and meet Y/M/N and I outside on the patio for some lunch?"

Wanda, having no other choice but to say yes, nodded and forced a smile in her mum's direction. "Sure, mum."

Our mothers fell into conversation as they left the room, finally leaving Wanda and I alone. I released a breath, grateful for the privacy, and looked to the Sokovian in question.

"You okay?" I asked slowly, wanting to find a start before erupting straight into my feelings.

She nodded, nibbling on her lip. She looked like she wanted to say something more, so I watched her patiently.

After a pause, when I thought she may just stay quiet forever, she spoke. "If what I said last night was out of line, I'm sorry."

I shook my head, a smile curling on my lips. "It wasn't. I'm in love with you, too."

Surprised, she finally met my gaze, eyes swirling with confusion. "You are?"

"Of course I am," I said quietly, stepping forward and taking her hands in mine. "I didn't mean to make you jealous last night. Pietro and I were genuinely just hanging out as friends."

She shook her head, eyes flickering between mine. "It doesn't matter about that. Forget it."

I still felt guilty, adding, "I know, but it does matter. I don't want to–"

She pressed her lips to mine quickly, cutting me off. Her fingers tangled in my hair as she tugged me closer with her other hand, making me gasp when my body touched hers. I kissed back, closing my eyes and moving my lips against hers in perfect sync.

I probably could have kissed her all afternoon, but the sound of the door opening made us both jump apart, startled. It was just a servant who was coming in to clean up the room. When she saw us, she gave us a small smile before moving around the room carefully. My eyes fell to Wanda's excited ones, and I smiled at her before nodding to the dresses.

"We should sort this out before they wonder what's taking so long," I told her, moving to pack them.

She nodded, grabbing my hand and squeezing it gently before helping me. We packed the dresses in no time before joining our mums out on the patio where they were sat with our lunch. I tried to keep my eyes off Wanda as our mothers spoke to us about God knew what, but it was hard when all I wanted to do was kiss her over and over, telling her just how much I loved her.

"...nice to see you both getting along lately," Iryna was talking, and I only zoned back in when I realised she was looking at me.

I blinked. "I'm sorry, what was that?"

Wanda stifled a smile as my mum gave me a disapproving look from across the table.

Iryna didn't seem to mind as she chuckled. "You and Pietro," she continued. "You both seemed very comfortable at the party last night."

I settled on a polite smile. "He's a gentleman. Very nice to be around, I guess."

Iryna smiled knowingly, exchanging glances with my mum before patting Wanda on the forearm, getting her attention. "How does that sound, dear? Your brother and Y/N together?"

I shook my head instantly, realising how she'd taken my words. "That's not what I meant."

Humming in response, Iryna continued to look to her daughter. "You may have to start sharing your new best friend with Pietro."

Remembering Wanda's jealousy last night, I spared her a glance of concern, hoping she wouldn't let this get to her. She was smiling, but her eyes were dimmed with dismay.

"Uh-huh," she played along with her mother's words, before using her fork to pick at her food.

As our mums began to talk about it, I found Wanda's hand under the table and laced my fingers in hers, hoping she'd know I only cared about one person and it was her. Though she didn't look up, her hand tightened around mine and she didn't let go.

The rest of the lunch went by as expected, though the more Iryna and my mother mentioned the wedding, the more Wanda and I grew uncomfortable. It was so much harder to hear about it when I knew my feelings were growing stronger for the brunette every day. By the end of the meal, my mother was happy to go back home and said I could stay to hang out with Wanda, which of course I did.

After bidding her a goodbye, I let Wanda drag me upstairs and to her bedroom, though the door closed when she spun around and pushed me against it, immediately kissing me. Before I could even question what was happening, she pulled away and looked at me through a half-lidded gaze.

"I don't want to share you with my brother, ever," she rasped out lowly, before licking her lips. "I don't want to share you with anyone."

She breathed out, her breath mingling with mine. Her hands rested on my waist before she reattached our lips, moving hers slower and more thoughtfully against mine.

I closed my eyes, grabbing her face and holding her gently, letting her slip her tongue between my lips and play with mine. Then she sucked on my lower lip, teeth nibbling gently at the sensitive skin, and made my insides go warm and fuzzy.

When she let go, she trailed kisses down my jaw and to my neck, having me at her mercy.

"Wanda," I moaned, hand moving to the back of her neck as I tried to regain some control of the situation, but the longer she sucked at the exposed skin, the more my knees wanted to buckle.

Already lowering my dress to my shoulders, her hand untied the back of it and I flushed at the contact of her fingers against me, not used to the feeling but also not opposed.

"Wanda, are you sure?" I asked between bated breaths, attempting to get her attention by tugging at her dress.

She pulled back, hand rising to my jaw and caressing it with her thumb as she looked between my eyes. Hers were dark, clouded with an arousal I hadn't seen before.

"I am," she said with certainty, before asking, "Are you?"

I swallowed hard, the warmth in my core growing hotter as she stared at me with lustful eyes and swollen lips. "Yes."

She gave me a slight smile before pressing her lips to mine again, allowing me to wrap my arms around her neck. I heard her lock the door behind me as I undid the top of her dress, struggling to do so without breaking contact from her. We moved to the bed clumsily, trying not to stumble over our discarded dresses, before I laid her down and straddled her.

Leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses down her neck, I felt her fingers grip my waist, keeping ahold of my body on hers. I shivered as her nails scratched gently against the skin and grew warm when she lifted herself up gently to get more comfortable, her clothed centre rubbing against mine.

Taking a breath, I pulled away and hovered over her, revelling in the beauty that was Wanda Maximoff. Her cheeks were dusted pink as she opened her eyes, green eyes sparkling desperately as they flickered between mine.

"I love you," I told her softly, leaning on my elbow and caressing her forehead.

She smiled, nails trailing up my back and sending shivers down my spine. "Ya tozhe tebya lyublyu."

I tried not to laugh as I tilted my head with confusion. She smiled a little wider, hand reaching for the back of my bra.

"I love you, too," she translated in English, hint of amusement in her eyes, before she managed to undo the bra strap.

I rolled my eyes at her attempt of mockery before chasing down her lips once more. Everything about the woman before me was absolute perfection and I was glad I could finally share how I felt about her without having to hide it anymore.

The potential consequences of our actions was not my concern right now... all I cared about was treating her with the respect and care she deserved.

[latte-fairytaekwoon]

Kickstart My Heart Pt.1 (Racer! Yeosang)

Next>>

Pairing: Racer! Kang Yeosang × Waitress/Fuckgirl! Reader (Female)

Genre: Fluff, Angst, 80s AU.

Summary: During an era known for its vibrant colors, eccentric fashion styles and rise of new yet unconventional genres of music, the young generation of that time was infamously known for their need to rebel and live their lives rather scandalously and Y/N is no exception. So when a new and attractive man moves into her town, she has her eyes set on making him her next boy toy.

Word Count: 4K+

Warnings: Dumb attempts at crackhead humor, reader is a cold hearted bitch, guy gets dumped in public, reader's friend is lowkey creepy.

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Throwing on the last article of clothing that had been discarded the night before, the young woman shook out her hair, still damp from the quick shower she just took. Picking up her bag, she looked over at the figure still sleeping soundly, the subtle hint of a smile on his face. With a pitied pout on her lips, she walked over to the edge where his face was. Taking out the lipstick tube from her bag, she applied it all over her lips, painting them in the dark burgundy color that she fancied so much and had practically become her signature hue. Bending over, she pressed her lips against the corners of his mouth, giving him the faintest whisper of a kiss before pulling away. A satisfied smirk was plastered on her pretty features as she stared at the lipstick mark on his face, the only memoir she'd leave him with as she had done with countless others.

Closing the front door behind her, she pulled her denim jacket tighter on her body, shivering slightly from the early dawn's breeze that blew across. It was always like that even though summer had just begun, the early morning hours still feeling obnoxiously cool and then transpiring into slightly uncomfortably warm afternoons that had more than one soul in that quaint town grumbling and fussing about the weather. But oh did the evenings feel absolutely refreshing, and that's when everything would start bustling to life.

Having finally made it out of that small residential area and finding one of the main roads that helped her locate where to go, she started heading south towards the all too familiar diner where she had been working in ever since her school days, first starting part time and eventually transpiring to full time when it came time for her to spread her wings and fly out on her own, a feat she had been most anxious to do to get away from the overly controlling nature of her parents. She knew they cared about her, but she herself cared very little about the morals and principles they had raised her with, a common trait all the young people in that town shared: their rebellious and headstrong nature to not conform and go against everything they had been taught thus far. Live their own lives as freely as they chose to do.

And she definitely lived as she wanted to, even if it ended up with a rather bad reputation and ugly labels that rather than infuriate her, she openly embraced, as others had come to as well.

The light twinkle of the bells above the glass door let the person at the register know someone came in and they immediately plastered on their business smile, which quickly faded when they saw who it was.

"You're late Y/N." The minuscule raven haired waitress informed her, eyes never leaving her coworker's figure that came behind the counter and started punching in her number.

"Only by like 7 minutes." She waved her slip at the nonchalant looking girl before placing it back in its respective slot.

"One day it wouldn't surprise me if you just didn't show up because you got too caught up in.... something else."

Chuckling softly, Y/N walked up behind her coworker, hands coming up to ruffle the cheekbone level bob cut hair framing her unusually small face.

"Awww come on Lynn, you know I'd never leave you hanging here to attend customers by yourself. You're my bestie." Y/N assured her, playfully poking her lips out as she tried to place a kiss on her friend, the poor girl craning her neck away as she tended to dislike physical affection.

"I will squirt ketchup on you." Lynn threatened as she picked up the cherry red bottle as a last resort to get her attacker to back away. A rather noisy struggle ensued between both girls, catching the attention of the owner and cook behind the two doors, prompting her to come out and see what was the cause of such ruckus.

"Well I'll be darned. I don't remember paying you youngsters to simply slack off and behave like the hooligans you are." The middle aged woman spoke up, her thick accent becoming more prominent. Although she had a stern look and hands placed at her hips, the girls knew she was not in reality angry at them.

Looking over at the recently arrived girl, the owner closed her eyes and sighed deeply when she took in the attire she was wearing: low cut white tank, ripped denim shorts that left little to the imagination if she bent down, fishnet tights with a few holes in them, and her beloved denim jacket that was almost always on Y/N's body.

"I swear to god, Y/N , everytime I see you wear them rags you call clothes, I feel like my body is about to collapse. Why must you insist on dressing like a common street worker?"

Y/N wasn't at all offended by her words, having grown used to and becoming fond of her boss's abrupt, direct and honest manner of speaking.

"Gotta start looking the part if I'm going to dedicate my life to the occupation." She giggled at her own joke, resulting in the older woman taking the rag off her apron and smacking her with it.

"This little runt, talking nonsense like that- get your ass back in there and change into your uniform. Can't have you prancing around here in those skimpy clothes and have all these men that come here say disrespectful things about you. Nuh uh, not to my girls." She shook her head.

"Yes Miss Audrey." Complying with the woman's wishes, she pushed open the swing doors leading to the back and quickly made her way to the corner where all the employee's cubicles were located. Grabbing the necessary items, she turned and went inside the bathroom to change into her uniform, consisting of a knee length crimson red dress, which she had actually altered so it would be shorter and display her thighs more, the cap sleeves slightly puffed up and the torso part had a trail of white buttons going all the way up to the modest v-neckline, usually most buttons were left undone so her cleavage would shamelessly peak out. Exchanging her black Doc Martens in favor of her white Nike sneakers, Y/N tied her apron around her waist, making sure it was as tight as possible so it would accentuate her curves and give her body a more flattering appearance. As she made her way out, she quickly piled her hair up before securing it with one of the many elastics she kept around her wrists, leaving out a few tendrils to fall on her temples.

Coming back out to start her daily work, she stood in front of Lynn, who merely spared her an unamused glance.

"How do I look?" Y/N asked.

"Like a total slut." Her friend answered in her usually rude way.

Rolling her eyes, Y/N grabbed a spray bottle and a rag. Making her way over to the table that had just finished being used, she quickly picked up the plates and glass, bringing them back over to where Lynn was, who took them so she could wash them in the sink. Spraying the top of the marble piece, she had began her task of wiping down the table when the ringing of the bell signaled new customers had arrived, and rowdy ones at that too.

"Damn! Is today's special fluffy sponge cake? Cause I would sure love a piece of that ass."

Y/N recognized that annoying voice even from miles away, belonging to none other than one of her old classmates, Jung Wooyoung, whom she considered a friend, if he didn't manage to irk her too much. Turning around, she of course wasn't surprised to see him surrounded by his crew of equally idiotic and adrenaline junkie friends, whom she had to admit were pleasant and fun to hang out with.

"Sit your asses down already, I'll be over in a minute to take your order." She told them before resuming her previous task, earning a scoff from the most dramatic of the group.

"Fine customer service! Don't think you'll be getting a tip from me." His words made her nearly burst into a fit of giggles.

"Wooyoung please, you never ever tip whenever you come. None of you, except Yunho." It kinda saddened her that said male unfortunately wasn't there with them at the moment.

"He doesn't tip you, he tips short stack over there." His friend with cat like eyes pointed towards Lynn, who upon overhearing him held up a rather explicit finger in his direction.

"I'll poison your food San." She threatened with a sing song tone.

"Like I wouldn't know that you already spit on it." San spat back, sticking his tongue out in his immature and infantile fashion.

"Can you guys hurry up and order already? I'm starving and we gotta head to the tracks as early as possible." The fiery red haired male known as Song Mingi blurted out, fingers tapping impatiently against the top of the table.

"If little miss g-string would care to hop her luscious ass over here, maybe we could."

Strutting over to where they sat, Y/N harshly threw the dirty rag on Wooyoung's face, causing a faint grunt to come out of his mouth.

"No matter how many times you mention my ass, I'm still not letting you tap it." She firmly stated, making Wooyoung slightly purse his lips outwards in a disappointed grimace.

"So anygays-" Mingi began.

"Umm I think you mean anyways." San corrected him.

Leaning in towards him, Mingi locked eyes on the shorter male and stared him down with an intimidating glare.

"Did I stutter Choi?"

San immediately shook his head rapidly. With a victory smile, Mingi reclined back in his seat.

"I'm just going to get the breakfast platter with some orange juice."

Y/N couldn't stifle her snort when he said his choice of drink, the other two men looking away in embarrassment.

"You've been drinking orange juice since you were in grade school Mingles, don't you think you outta start taking something more grown up? Like coffee?" San suggested and Mingi did not appreciate it.

"Coming from the one who still brings a plushie to sleep with him, your suggestion holds no value or power." He retorted.

"OK SHIBER IS NOT A PLUSHIE, HE'S FAMILY YOU JACKASS!" San sprinted up from his seat, nearly leaning across to grab Mingi by the color, but he was held back by Wooyoung.

Lynn, who had thus far stayed quiet, promptly came up with a spray bottle and consequently doused the untamed boy on his face.

"Bad kitty, bad kitty." She reprimanded him, unable to resist the opportunity to attack her long time frenemy.

"Lynn!" Y/N looked at her with surprise.

"You're welcome." Lynn replied rather monotone before going back to her place behind the counter like she didn't just spray San with disinfecting water.

"There's too many germs going around anyways..." She muttered under her breath.

Without any further interruptions, aside from the rumbling coming out of the boys' stomachs, they finished ordering what they wanted and Y/N sent it over so they could be prepared. Not wanting to be near their loud asses, Y/N went back over to where Lynn was, peeking over to see what she was currently reading in the magazine she held.

"What you reading?" She casually inquired.

"Horoscope section." Y/N wasn't surprised, her friend tended to be into more mystical, eccentric and rather.....extreme with her taste in fashion and music. If Y/N was the one who turned heads for her scandalous attire, Lynn was the one people turned away from in fear when they saw how she dressed. It was a sight that truly made both of them laugh at people's foolishness, well at least made Y/N laugh. Her friend rarely had any other expression plastered on that wasn't utter disdain for society and life.

Unexpectedly, another customer came in. Both girls looked at each other in confusion when neither of them recognized him. Their town was rather small with few people living there, so they deduced that he must be a traveler who probably got lost on his route. He himself looked around nervously, eyes barely lifting up. Y/N couldn't help herself as she took in his perfect face. Big, round eyes with crystal clear orbs, small face with a V-line jaw, perfectly sculpted nose with no sign of defects, skin smooth and blemish free, he looked like a prince out of a fairytale. He was incredibly pretty, yet stood there so awkwardly that it was almost comical.

"Hey Yeosang! You made it! Sit down! I ordered for you in advanced!" Wooyoung surprised both girls when it seemed he knew the stranger and even waved him over to where they sat. The other two boys also seem familiarized with him and welcomed him to sit with them, chatting up a storm already with him.

"Who's that?" Lynn was the one to finally ask out loud.

"Beats me.....but he sure is adorable."

Noticing the way her lips curled upwards, Lynn could already see the wheels inside Y/N's head turning.

"And I bet you're going to go over there and find out- aaand there you go." She ended up answering her own deduction as she watched Y/N happily walked over with a more bright expression on her face, that soon soured when her boss came out of the kitchen and beat her over to the table, laying down several plates of food.

"I knew as soon as I saw the orders that it had to be the lot of you." She scoffed softly as she looked at the boys' grinning faces.

"You know us Miss Audrey, we wouldn't ever think of eating anywhere else but here. You're the best cook in all of town." Wooyoung praised her with a sparkling charm that could have fooled anyone else but not the robust woman in front of him.

"Boy stop trying to tickle my ears, I've known you since you were in your soiled diapers being carried around by your mama, running around and creating chaos anywhere you went. Flattery may work on them poor girls you play with but me? I can see right through ruffians like you."

Turning her head to finally notice the new addition to the group, she looked him up and down.

"Boy who might you be?" She questioned him, earning the ears of the girls nearby to listen in for any valuable information.

"I'm..... Yeosang Kang, nice to meet you." He introduced himself, tilting his head slightly down when he said that.

"He just moved into town this week! He's the new guy who is going to work with us down at the car shop and help on the race track!" San enthusiastically shouted, making the older woman cringe.

"I may be old, but I still haven't gone deaf for you to yell in such a way boy. So...." She crossed her arms and looked at Yeosang again.

"You a racer too?"

Now the girls, particularly Y/N, were more interested in what his response would be.

"I- yes. So it seems." The poor boy looked so flustered, obviously being more of a soft spoken individual, contrasting starkly to the other 3 boys.

Miss Audrey let out a seemingly displeased hum at his answer.

"As if we needed anymore hooligans running wild. We already got enough with the 3 Stooges over here."

The girls couldn't help but snicker at their boss's words, always having a blast whenever she put the boys back in their place. They however looked displeased, glaring at them intensely.

"Shouldn't you both be off somewhere cleaning dishes or making sandwiches?"

Snatching one of the knifes, Lynn held it up and was about to jump over, but Y/N came up in front of her.

"Lynn, no. Just calm down ok? You know they're just being idiots." Y/N reminded her.

Grumbling something in a foreign language no one knew for sure if it was real or not, Lynn put the knife back, squinting her eyes at them before turning around to not look at them again. Y/N giggled softly, finding it absolutely cute whenever her friend lost her cool and collected form cause it reminded her of a chihuahua, barking and yelping at anything larger than itself trying to establish dominance.

Noticing that in her display of aggression, Lynn had inadvertently knocked over a few of the brochures that were on display for people to take, Y/N stooped down and proceeded to pick them up in a casual manner. Standing up, she neatly arranged them properly, making sure they all faced the same direction and the sides weren't poking out anywhere. Feeling as though someone had been watching her all along, she looked at the table of boys, half expecting Wooyoung's smug grin to greet her, but she was completely wrong as it was none other than the new guy who seemed unable to keep his eyes off her figure, staring intently at the length of her skirt. When he realized she noticed, his eyes went wide, cheeks burning up with utter embarrassment. Y/N however seemed unbothered by this. Wanting to test something, she pretended to accidentally drop one of the pamphlets. Bending over, she made sure he could get a perfect glimpse of her cleavage, if he payed enough attention, he'd be able to see that she was in fact, not wearing any bra. Coming back up, Y/N looked over to see the results, smirking when the agape mouth of Yeosang confirmed to her that he had indeed noticed everything.

"Oh sweetheart, you're gonna be too easy..." She had already made up in her mind that Yeosang would be her next target, and she had to put her plan in action. Placing the brochures down, she was about to go over and start flirting with him, until a familiar voice called for her.

"Y/N! There you are!"

She internally groaned when she heard him, wondering why on earth did he not get the hint of ditching him like that, especially when he very well knew about the reputation she had. She tried ignoring him, but of course, he had had to be the persistent type, no doubt thinking he was going to have a different ending than the rest before him.

"I thought you'd be here. You could have told me you were going to be gone early. I would have made you breakfast."

Knowing she had to say something, Y/N grabbed her pad and gave him the fakest smile she was capable of donning.

"Hi, what can we get started for you today? Waffles? Eggs and bacon? Coffee to start off with?"

The trio of friends, having no choice but to witness the interaction due to it happening right in front of them, snickered amongst themselves.

"Oh shit. He's in for it." San whispered lowly.

The boy obviously looked extremely confused, his smile lightly falling off, but then returning to its hopeful state.

"Why are you acting like this candy bear? Pretending like you don't know me?" When he tried to reach a hand to pull her close, the girl simply pushed him away with one of her fingers.

"Look, clearly you're too stupid to understand so let me spell it out in a language you can understand." Letting out a tired sigh, she crossed her arms in front of her chest, a sour look displaying on her pretty face.

"We had a nice time together, and last night was... average to put it nicely."

"Oh man. That was a total burn." Mingi couldn't help but snort, some of the orange juice being spit back into his glass.

"But that was all it was and all it's ever going to be. So why don't you do yourself a favor and just go back home to your Star Trek figurines and watch the latest episode of Thunder Cats?"

The not so discreet snickering coming from the table behind them only made the humiliation for the man multiply significantly. Turning red with utter despair and rage, he quickly brushed past Y/N rather brusquely.

"Fucking bitch." She heard him mutter under his breath, a phrase she had grown accustomed to hearing among many others.

"Oh god. Homegirl struck again." Wooyoung laughed, swirling his milkshake in his hand.

"Ayo why you gotta do Thunder Cats like that? It's actually pretty entertaining." San commented.

Looking over at the time, the guys quickly stood up, dropping their share of bills onto the table.

"You guys get paid today too right? Come meet up with us at the track." Wooyoung suggested.

"Why on earth would we want to go see your greasy, oil smelling ass after dealing for nearly an hour with you already?" Lynn questioned him, eyes never peering up from her magazine.

"Because Yunho would be there?"

Still she didn't respond, the only movement made was her finger turning the page.

"Bro we been knew she don't give two shits about him." Mingi reminded them.

"Because we're going to the drive in theater after work, they're playing a horror movie."

Lifting her gaze, Lynn closed the magazine, although still stone faced, her eyes seemed to brighten up.

"My interest has been greatly piqued." Her lips showed the faintest whisper of a smile that gave a rather eerie and chilling feel down the people's spines.

"Maybe we should rethink inviting Satan's offspring." San leaned in towards Mingi, shivering significantly.

"Great! So we'll catch you gals later."

The boys quickly dispersed themselves, save Yeosang who still sat quietly, keeping mostly to himself. His fingers fidgeted with the half drunk cup he was holding, gaze fixed on the table in front of him. Looking up, he was attempting to work up the courage to talk to Y/N, but before he could even get the chance to gather strength, the owner came out from the back, whispering a few orders to her and gesturing for her to go tend to a situation in the kitchen. With a defeated sigh, he got up to go join the rest of the gang outside who were waiting for him. Slumping his hands in the pockets of his pants, he moved out of the booth with a solemn gaze.

"Hey."

His steps came to a screeching halt when he heard Y/N call out to him. Looking over, she smiled sweetly in his direction.

"Hope I see you later." With a flirtatious wink, she bid him goodbye as she disappeared into the back.

Yeosang stood there stunned momentarily, replaying her words over and over again in his mind, pondering endlessly at their meaning.

"Little pussy cat sure got you brain dead, didn't she?"

Startled by the unexpected voice next to him, he jumped when the face of the kind yet stern old lady studied him carefully. With a disapproving shake of her head, she decided it'd be best to warn him before he started getting ideas in his head.

"Listen, you seem like a sweet and sensible young man, so it's best for you to listen to me and stay away from that darn girl. Don't let them sugar coated lips of hers sweet talk themselves into your heart. You'll just end up heart broken like all the lovers she's had."

Picking up some of the plates, she gave him one last look, pointing an accusatory finger at him to get her point across.

"She's dangerous." Finally saying what she needed to say, Miss Audrey headed back with plates in her arms, slapping away Lynn's hands when they attempted to pry them off her, barking instructions at her to watch the counter and leave her be.

"Dangerous....." Yeosang thought to himself, the warning the good intended woman gave him sinking deep in his mind. Although he took her words to heart, something about the way she glanced at him pulled at the strings in his chest, taking his breath away when he remembered the risque position she was in that purposely allowed him to view more than he should have. That memory tinted his cheeks pink, lips unable to suppress a small smile. He knew that he should heed the old woman's advice.

But he had to admit that he loved danger and the thrill it came with.........

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Taglist: @little-precious-baby @yunhofingers @brie02 @galaxteez @multidreams-and-desires @deja-vux @hanatiny @couchpotatoaniki @daniblogs164 @a-soft-hornytiny @yunsangoveryonder @minhyukmyluv @nanamarkie @ateezbabysitters @mingismoon @rainteez02

[sepublic]

Through the Looking Glass Ruins!!!!!

         …

         SO! Onto other things first…

         WRATH IS BRAXAS’ FATHER!??!!? HOLY SHIT, Wrath is a canonical dad, I’d always expressed my… OH MY GOD WRATH IS DAD! And of BRAXAS, that sweetie… How is Braxas such a sweetie with a father like HIM, also-

         Wrath was in casual wear? Either he has a day off, or he got fired by Belos/Kikimora after drawing Luz a map to Eda in Young Blood, Old Souls! Either way this guy has a sudden new level of NUANCE that I am reeling from, and yes I checked, that really is Wrath according to the credits! Dang this puts everything in a WHOLE new light…!

         AMITY HAIR OHMIGOD IT LOOKS SO ADORABLE SHE’S SELF-ACTUALIZING I AM FUCKING SCREAMING HOLY SHIT OH MY GOD!!! OH MY GOD OH MY GOD, it’s PINK and not green… They acknowledged it, Emira did! And they CHANGED IT I AM LOSING MY FUCKING MIND OVER THIS-

         She looks so BEAUTIFUL and I love the kind of foreshadowing with the bookends of our first shot of Amity having her hair down, and now it’s changed! And she looks adorable and EMIRA AND EDRIC BEING GREAT SIBLINGS I LOVE IT SO MUCH! This… THIS is everything I wanted! I was resigned to not much of them but HELL YEAH they’re being good siblings and we get a look at their rooms, we see them doing MAKEOVERS together this is everything from my favorite fanon content and MORE,

         Also Edric has a date?! Emira says ‘their’ mom… Unless the Golden Guard has a mom, DARN! Not gonna lie, I half-expected a big twist at the end that Edric was dating the Golden Guard, who was doing some sort of reconnaissance as his unrecognized normal self and/or screwing around with the Blights even further, but in a GENUINE sense… But then who knows Kikimora could be posing as GG’s ‘mom’, this is a stretch anyhow-

         JUST HELL YEAH Blight Twins! Blight Twins being sweet and mischievous and supportive of each other, Blight SIBLINGS being siblings, Emira being an older sister and giving advice! And AMITY, Amity mentioning how much Luz has changed stuff, I love that they acknowledge it openly how her life has completely shifted, and now… NOW…!

         No necklace! Red leggings! PINK HAIR?! Is this why Amity in the intro hasn’t been updated yet… She was getting TWO updates, so the animators decided to only animate a change after this final update?!

         King and Gus are also friends it seems, and they even recorded some fun together! I’m surprised at how much Bria and the others mock Gus’ illusion skills… Obviously Belos is kinda terrible but like; I don’t think he’d set aside an entire subset of magic into Illusions without reason! Also that nightmare trip… I LOVE IT, I love Gus applying the creativity of illusions in their ability to completely warp and distort someone’s sense of reality! And I called that dragon-thing being an illusion!

         A graveyard… I wonder if the Gallderstones (is that how it’s spelled) have any relevance or if they’re just neat? I hope Mattholomule and Gus help hide the Looking Glass Graveyard… Damn, that’s another Death reference with Gus, huh! Is it culminating in his respect for the dead, or will it continue further with Gus being a necromancer, or an Oracle who can commune with the deceased, and he has their respect as someone who treats them properly?!

         Also not to get dark but… What if all those Illusionists are dead because of Belos? I’m JUST SAYING…! And not gonna lie, every time someone insulted Illusions, I kept imagining the Illusion Head just suddenly waking up and feeling like there’s a disturbance in the force, as well as a weird compulsion to beat up some Glandus kids. It’d be even funnier if he had beef with the Construction, Plant, and Abomination Heads as well!

         Speaking of which, more confirmation on Construction Magic being related to earth! Glad to see Bria give us a look into that, which furthers my idea of Belos using construction magic… Also dang, Bria and the Glandus Kids really are the parallels/foils to the Detention kids! You’ve got the short ‘nice’ girl, the tall lanky kid, the furry… But the Glandus Kids start off looking nice and cool, but turn out to be rather nasty!

         Meanwhile the Detention Kids seem like bad news and delinquents, but no! They’re just demonized and actually very kind and chill! The Detention Kids are looked down upon, the Glandus Kids are appraised… The Detention Kids are dual-track, the Glandus Kids are singular; Glandus Kids from, well, GLANDUS, Detention Kids from Hexside… One’s ‘mischief’ is actually very neat and cool, the other’s is literal grave robbing.

         I guess that’s how the bleeding statues got past the censors- It’s technically just an illusion! Also more insight into how Glandus works with its Survival of the Fittest mentality, I wonder if we’ll get confirmation on which coven heads came from there, how that might influence them as adults…

         What is Glandus like, is it more whole-heartedly accepting of Belos’ rule, hence its harsh ideals? Was it made after Hexside? Does Bump hate it for being so cruel like that, or is it just school bias? And dang poor Mattholomule, I always had a feeling he sort of felt and knew that he wasn’t much, so he accepted and compensated by deliberately doing whatever he can for power…

         They confirmed he’s from Glandus, and I appreciate this new look at him! This new leaf turned… Hot take but he’s honestly not as bad as Boscha, his stint with Gus was a one-time thing that Gus was able to live with! And that seems pretty good to set them up as friends! Speaking of Boscha, Willow was injured by pixies? And the last time we heard of pixies, they belonged to Boscha and caused the school to get shut down… Did BOSCHA DO THIS I SWEAR SHE IS DEAD TO ME-

         (Also she’s mentioned in the credits for this episode but I don’t remember hearing her? I might’ve gotten distracted with so much other things.)

         Gus! I like the insight into his relationship with Illusions, and I appreciate how he’s considering other forms of magic… But this hesitation might just serve to reaffirm his believe in Illusions, which is okay! It’s all about choice… And yeah, it seems Gus also has a case of impostor syndrome like King, no wonder they get along so well! I love the glimpses into Gus’ house and the confirmation that he has a library card, no Perry though alas…!

         I appreciate how Gus feels overlooked, like he has no real substance, which is how his Illusions reflect a desire to draw attention, but also the idea that there’s nothing real beneath them… Again, very much like King! And Gus, he’s not a powerhouse like the rest, he’s SKILLED and smart, but strength isn’t his forte, it’s not brute force he operates on, but cleverness! Trickery, I like it…! It’s a nice callback to his last A-plot episode, SVSF, where instead of fighting Mattholomule physically, Gus’ solution is to think outside the box and pull the alarm!

         You go kid, not relying on brute strength but showing that some clever tricks and thinking are just as valid! Kinda wonder if this episode is lowkey a discussion on masculinity for young boys, especially with Gus growing older with puberty, though the latter is mostly because his actual VA grew… But maybe the writers rolled with that and incorporated it, or it’s just a very neat coincidence! Also, it is me or did Mattholomule’s voice change? And the gag that Gavin’s dad looks identical to him, even moreso because he’s NOT supposed to have a moustache… That’s great!

         Malphas! Love this reference to a classic demon, I wasn’t sure if Malphas was the librarian with glasses whom I’ve always headcanoned as a father figure to Amity… But maybe it’s actually this bird dude! He seems adept in Bard magic, and I love the reveal of his true crow appearance… Guess those theorists were right that the one-eyed figure is from the Forbidden Stacks! Also Malphas NOT COOL with Amity, but I’m glad Luz changed his mind, and I wonder how that adventure looked…

         Which- DAMN, the RSD with Luz! She looks so UTTERLY BROKEN when Amity mentions doing stupid things, and she didn’t mean it like that, but Luz just looks so completely shattered and you can tell she wants to cry but instead she bottles it up and tries to take it in stride, and that plays into her trying to overcompensate for her mistakes AGAIN… SOMEONE GET IT TO HER HEAD that she doesn’t need to! I’m scared for Luz, and I was SO scared this episode would end on a bad note…

         BUT DOAHLDdFAEONDKFHN LUMITY KISS LUMITY KISS! ONE-SIDED BUT THEY FINALLY FUCKING KNOW AND AMITY IS LIKE WHAAAAT AND I WAS WAITING FOR IT AND I COULD FEEL IT HAPPEN AND GAY KISS! GAY KISS ON-SCREEN!!! And the way Luz just FLOPS to the ground on her knees AAHJJFFKHGGK and no Alador nor Odalia to ruin this, UTTERLY PERFECT and the twins WATCHING OOOHHHHGGGG YYYEEAAAAHHH-

         This is EVERYTHING I ever wanted!

         What an AMAZING episode with wonderful characer beats and reveals! Again, Amity’s growth as a character, that brief insight into how Luz as a person is very chaotic and sometimes frustrating for Amity and forces her to reevaluate, but ultimately it’s good and Luz DOES try her best, and Amity clearly wanted to make things up for Luz and apologize, they’re BOTH doing things, just the little moments!

         Also, Alex Lawther voices Philip Wittebane! He has long hair and a vaguely british accent, he’s… He’s Belos isn’t he? And they got a new VA because having him voiced by Matthew Rhys would be really spoiler-y right? He’s got the long hair and he’s a nerd… And with how he talks of finding a way back home, maybe Belos really DOES just want to return home, after all? He talks of making a way back home…

         And we see a glimpse of the Portal, so it might’ve brought him there? Or did Philip succeed in making it, and that was his blueprint designs? Did he arrive by Titan’s Blood? What happened to the portal if it brought him there, or if he made it? Why the scar, why near Eda’s house, partially buried?

         Was it lost before he could finish his work, and Philip got side-tracked into something else… Perhaps going on a crusade, on behalf of a curse/demon that possessed him? A demon that killed King’s father…? Was the portal broken and he had to discard it, but then it naturally healed- Or did it just need to recharge, maybe Philip DID make it back home, WHAT IS THE ANSWER?! Is there some sort of doppelganger for Philip, is BELOS his doppelganger?! What is THIS WHAT-

         WHAT AN EPISODE!

[misfit-fics]

Demon Rehab For Dummies

Summary: (Y/N) started seeing seven demons when she was 10. Through the years they all disappeared, all but one. Namjoon. A demon who has not so creepily, creepily, very creepily been in love with her for years.

Genre: fluff, crack, extremely minimal angst, idiots to lovers, romantic-comedy

Word count: 7384

Rating: Teen

Warnings: mentions of suggestive & kinky themes, a handful of cursing, a story with a plot but not doesn’t exactly have a plot, a stubborn (Y/N) who dismisses love confessions & genuine flirting, an unspoken confession

A/N: Hey! we're back, it's been a while. We're starting school in a while but it will be gamble if we'll be more active or not. Well... we ARE active but just not posting? Yeah, you know what I mean. This has been sitting in our drafts for a while now and we're posting it now... although it's pretty unedited, feel free to address any oopsies. Hope who ever finds this enjoys reading!

At the ripe young age of ten (Y/N) began seeing seven men. Which- would’ve (should’ve) freaked any kid out but you know (Y/N) is just kinda quirky like that so she didn't really mind much. The men were nice and played with her anyway, and the only weird thing was that sometimes they would bring her dead birds.

At age eleven (Y/N) noticed that one of the men was missing.It didn’t affect her much except for the fact that this particular one would help her find things and she’d lost almost all of her socks since he disappeared. Not to mention the increase of bug bites after he left. The darn things seemed like they multiplied exponentially after a month.

By twelve only two of the men had disappeared, at this point (Y/N) not only lived in sandals (she still couldn’t find her socks) but she also couldn’t explain why her hair was burning off every time she tried to straighten it (her lil demon friends didn’t want her to, you’d think after almost 3 years of having men following her around and telling her what to do she’d get with the program already.) Her dog her parents had given her when she was 9 started disappearing quite often after he left. He always came back with a single sock that would disappear the next morning.

By thirteen (Y/N) had developed a crush (more like unhealthy obsession) on one of the men, Namjoon. The third year was also the year when Jimin disappeared, taking all of her favorite shoes with him. That year she had prayed to whoever was listening because her parents really couldn’t afford to keep buying her socks and shoes, and because she definitely couldn’t afford to shave her head.

By fourteen, Hoseok, the man who had cheered her up whenever she needed it, had gone, leaving a tidal wave of bad luck in his wake. He had a great deal in keeping (Y/N) happy, although some of his antics made her want to punch him, it never turned out that way.

When she was fifteen no one left… except for the dog. Aside from that, the only thing that left was her social life (It wasn’t like she had one before but you know it was still a little rough). (Y/N) began to depend more and more on her demons. She had become great friends with the oldest, Seokjin, who cooked for her when her parents went on trips.

At sixteen Yoongi left and the nightmares began. And with the nightmares came the growth of (Y/N)’s relationship with Namjoon. Namjoon became her protector, along with sometimes Seokjin, who still cooked for her and cared for her altogether when she couldn’t.

At seventeen, (Y/N) was informed that when she turned eighteen Seokjin would be leaving, on account that they didn’t need each other anymore. (Y/N) had been torn up when he told her and even more when he left. He didn’t take anything when he left other than a piece of (Y/N)’s heart.

At eighteen, (Y/N) moved away from her parents house with Namjoon trailing behind her (He even had lil demon suitcases and everything,) following her every move.

“I really don’t understand why you had to follow me out of my parents house. I thought spirits are supposed to be attached to a general area…” (Y/N) took to unpacking a box in the small apartment she now lived in.

“(Y/N) how many times do we have to go over this, I'm a demon, DE-MON.” Namjoon clapped his hands with each syllable. (Y/N) rolled her eyes and flicked her wrist at the self-proclaimed demon.

“Demon, ghost, same thing.” She shrugged her shoulders, “same thing as to-may-to, to-mah-to.”

“It is not the same thing!” Namjoon looked at (Y/N) like it was obvious.

(Y/N) snorted, “Okay Casper.” She continued pulling out the items in the box.

Namjoon looked flabbergasted, “CASPER!?” Namjoon put a hand over his chest and widened his eyes. (Y/N) looked up at the demon with a raised brow,

“Geez Casper, why are you so offended? I’ve called you Casper before, Casper.” (Y/N) struggled to keep in her laughter, trying to keep a straight face as she looked at Namjoon.

Namjoon looked at (Y/N), “I think I shall simply cease to exist in your realm.”

(Y/N) looked back down at the almost empty box, “You wouldn’t do that, you love me too much, my dearest Casper.” She said in a singsong voice, “Oh hey I found a sock.” She pulled out said sock from the box, it had yellow stripes. :]

“I think Jungkook took the mate to that when he left.” (Y/N) threw the sock at Namjoon with a loud ‘FUCK!’

“I mean we could try and summon him to see if he’ll return your socks.” Namjoon shrugged.

“I wouldn’t even try.” She started putting the random items in their new places.

“You should put Juno on the window sill rather than the coffee table, I mean cacti do need sun.” Namjoon looked at the little green prickle plant.

“I’m sure if i didn’t tell you how to parent your child, it would’ve been confiscated by child protective services.” Namjoon crossed his arms and looked at Juno who had been (rightfully so) moved to the window sill.

“Casper- Juno is a cactus. There is no CPS (Cactus Protective Services).” (Y/N) looked at Namjoon with her own arms crossed over her chest and an eyebrow raised, “Now if you could- Can you please go unpack a few boxes?” (Y/N) shooed Namjoon away before her eyes widened and she added in, “NOTHING LABELED FRAGILE!”

“You know if we painted a wall or two in here, it would liven up the place so much…” Namjoon looked around the bland apartment, “Maybe an accent wall over here. A floor lamp over there. A new plant in the kitchen. It wouldn’t hurt you to give Juno some siblings.”

(Y/N) looked flabbergasted, “You want me to pop out another child?!”

“No I mean-” Namjoon’s eyes widened.

“-OUT OF MY WALLET?!? MY BARELY 21 DOLLARS!?” (Y/N) got her wallet out and zipped it open. She shook it in the demon’s face, about 26 pennies, 2 nickels, 1 dime, and a quarter fell out. It was followed by a single, folded, 5 dollar bill.

“I don’t think that’s 21 dollars, (Y/N)” Namjoon looked down at the floor, where one or more of the coins had caught onto his feet.

“I have a gift card.” She pulled out the cheap plastic, silver, $25 visa gift card (that didn’t have 25 dollars) with a bit of a struggle.

“How much exactly is on that gift card (Y/N)?” Namjoon eyed the flimsy silver object.

“You expect me to know- I mean probably more than 10 dollars!” Namjoon raised a brow at the statement. “Okay, maybe about 3.69.” Namjoon sighed, massaging his temples. (Y/N) bent down to put the money back into her wallet like a pigeon eating bread crumbs the old lady on the bench threw onto the floor.

Namjoon walked away from the pigeon-girl and grabbed a notepad and pen that was left on the kitchen counter. “We’re making you a to-do list.” He stated, clicking the pen.

“WE haven’t even unpacked all the boxes yet.” (Y/N) whined, pointing at the last large box in the middle of the hallway. Namjoon looked to where she pointed and shrugged.

“It says Christmas decorations.”

“EXACTLY! VERY. IMPORTANT.” she clapped her hands in between each word.

“It’s February.” He said.

“It’s still winter.” (Y/N) reasoned, finally done picking up the money. She plopped herself down onto the small brown couch.

“Okay so first off you need a job.” He wrote it down onto the notepad, the pen scratching being overlapped by a loud gasp from the human in the room.

“You dare ignore me?!” She yelled offendedly at the demon who glanced at her before looking back down at what he was writing.

“You also need to go to the supermarket.”

“I told you I barely have any money.”

“Your parents gave you some money.”

“Oh, you’re right.”

“And also, you should walk to the school and find a short route to get there.” Namjoon pulled out a literal map.

(Y/N) pouted, “I thought you were gonna walk me to all my classes to deter all the frat boys from coming my way…”

“I did say that,” he confirmed before continuing. “But I mean to get to the actual school grounds.”

“But we have a car.” She had drawnout the ‘but,’ trying to make her point that she didn’t need to walk.

“But you need exercise.” He reasoned, mimicking the way she had said her words.

“Are you calling me fat?”

“No.”

“Yes you are.”

“(Y/N) i’m not.”

“Yeah you ARE, Casper.”

“Would you PLEASE call me by my actual name for once?”

“Sure thing. Rap Monster.” She teased, the ground started shaking. (Y/N) let out a loud screech looking up at the demon who’s eyes were rolled back. “OH FUCK YOU!”

The shaking died down, Namjoon staring down at the girl who was now underneath the coffee table. “This is why you’re still here!” she cried.

“You want me gone?” Namjoon questioned, offendedly. (Y/N) army crawled her way from her ‘safe spot.’

“I DIDN’T SAY THAT!” She yelled, returning the offended tone.

“I’m out,” Namjoon pivoted on his heel, walking to the front door robotically.

“Noooo!”

“Will I ever see my socks again?” (Y/N) looked at Namjoon with hope, “I mean having shoes would be great too though.”

“What’s wrong with living in sandals? Birkenstocks are very comfortable.” Namjoon pivoted around with a candle in his hand.

“It’s winter.” (Y/N) frowned.

“You could always use mine?” He gestured to the shoes at the shoe rack at the front door. The ones that were closed toed…

“Your feet are too big.” (Y/N) looked over at the shoes, then looked down at her own feet, then at the demon.

“Size didn’t matter Last night with your sweaters?”

“That’s different, Namjoon.” (Y/N) rolled her eyes.

“Size.” Namjoon smirked.

“Different.” (Y/N) stood confidently.

“You know, you could always just go buy new socks?” Namjoon looked at her oddly.

“I usually wait to get them for Christmas, you should know this by now.”

“Independence.” He stated.

“You’re a hypocrite.” Namjoon let out a ‘huh?’ and (Y/N) continued, “You said independence when you’re dependent on me.”

“That isn’t my fault.” Namjoon raised his hands in defense.

“It kind of is though…” (Y/N) shrugged, Namjoon opened his mouth to retort but was quickly cut off, “I’m literally a rehab center for you.”

“Apparently you’re not a nicely rated one.” Namjoon shook his head.

“I’ve helped 6 other demons, Namjoon. You’re just being difficult.” (Y/N) poked his chest really hard before retracting her hand.

“Ouch,” he put his hand over his heart where she had poked him, “You shouldn’t be saying these things to your client.”

“I didn’t ask to get a client or even BE a rehab center.”

“The reason why you became a rehab center was because you decided that humans were ugly and disgusting.”

“The reason why you ended up with me was because you did something bad and you just now decided to be a good person and it’s not turning out well for you.”

“For your information, I could have left a long time ago.” Namjoon crossed his arms, with an audible exhale from his nose. He stared down at the rehab center.

“And why didn’t you, hm?” (Y/N) crossed her arms also with a raised brow. Namjoon kept quiet, debating how to answer, keeping eye contact as if it was an olympic staring contest.

“You.” He said. (Y/N) snorted, ready to insult the patient. “-would’ve starved to death by now if I hadn’t stayed with you until now.” He finished, (Y/N) gasped, reaching up and hitting Namjoon on the shoulder.

“You. Jerk. Get. Away. From. Me.” She hit him harder every word before waddling away into the hallway from the chuckling demon.

“No problem,” Namjoon disappeared with a veil of sparkles out of view.

(Y/N) thrusted open the door to her new bedroom. Continuing her waddle to the end of the full size bed. Facing the head board, she plopped the top half of her body onto the bed front first. Namjoon reappeared about 6 feet away from her with a loud poof and a burst of sparkles scattering around the room.

“Go away.” (Y/N)’s face was still shoved into the mattress, “Seriously shoo.” (Y/N) lifted her arm off the bed to wave him off.

“I won’t go. You can’t make me.” Namjoon walked towards the bed hesitantly, scared to get fucking murdered by his prison warden, “Move over. Give me some room.”

“Go sleep in my closet.” (Y/N) flipped the demon off.

“You’d prefer nightmares over your dearest Casper?”

“Yes.” Namjoon sat down on the bed, his knee almost hitting the girl’s head. “I thought I said in the closet.”

“And I prefer the bed.” Namjoon leaned forward and took (Y/N) by her hands and pulled her closer to himself with an annoyed groan from her. She was pulled until her head was laid on his chest, wrapping his arms around her.

“I hate you.” (Y/N) grumbled into her demon-pillow.

“I know.”

“You live because I allow it, and that is it to be my flesh pillow.”

“Okay, now sleep.”

“But why do you have to leave?” (Y/N) looked up at her bunk buddy, her chin was impaling the person’s chest.

“I have to. I'm ready to go.” Yoongi looked crestfallen, “They said I could have one more night. But then, when I leave, I can pass on my role.”

“Could you maybe not steal my socks?” (Y/N) pouted at Yoongi who chuckled in response. “This is a genuine request.” She said with slight seriousness in her tone.

“You don’t have any to steal anyways,” he rolled his eyes with an endearing smirk that replaced his dispirited look just seconds before.

“Ok just- don’t go stealing any of my clothing, I need it.” (Y/N) clicked her tongue, not denying the fact that she was sockless.

“I won’t. I don’t need your clothing.” Yoongi shrugged, “I might take your guinea pig though. Meatloaf is cute.”

“YOU wouldn’t DARE take Meatloaf from me.” She glared

“I can and I will.” Yoongi crossed his arms over his chest and looked towards the cage that housed Meatloaf. (Y/N) groaned, unlatching an arm that was sandwiched between the bed and Yoongi’s back. She planted her palm smack in the middle of the demon’s face, covering his view of the poor guinea pig.

“No.” She patted his face, Yoongi’s eyes now squeezed shut.

“I can lick your hand.” he threatened, his voice muffled and jumpy from the wacky hand.

“You’re gross,” she moved her hand up, now only covering his eyes and revealing a gummy smile from Yoongi.

“It’s sleep time,” he declared. (Y/N) whined in response, “I’ll be here in the morning to say goodbye one more time okay?”

“Promise?”

“Never said that,” he hummed.

“You jerk,” she groaned, laying her head sideways. Her ear over his heart, engraving the sound into her mind.

Like a cliche love story, (Y/N) woke up to no one but herself on the bed. Through groggy eyes, she could see that poor Meatloaf was gone too.

“I tried to stop him from taking Meatloaf I swear.” Namjoon uncrossed his arms from over his chest when he noticed that (Y/N) was awake.

“Did you really?” (Y/N) sat up in bed.

“I did, I swear,” he said immediately, “I have proof.”

“By proof, do you mean you broke something?” Namjoon took a deep breath figuring out whether or not to say yes or no.

“I… never said that.” He decided on dying, his words drifting off in nervousness.

“So… you did?” She concluded, Namjoon nodded slowly, his eyes down on the floor.

“Yea…” (Y/N) sighed, trying to find anger to cover up a tsunami of sadness that was approaching.

“It’ll be okay. We can summon him every once in a while. Maybe while we’re at it we can try to get your socks back.” Namjoon smiled and hoped it would make her feel better while the reality of things had begun to set in for him. All of the boys loved (Y/N) with all of their hearts but he was the only one willing to stay for the long run.

“I don’t think people want to go back to a rehab center, Namjoon.” (Y/N) let the tears begin to pour.

“(Y/N) it’ll be okay…” Namjoon went over to sit on the bed next to (Y/N), “Seriously we’ll get through this.” Namjoon put a hesitant hand onto (Y/N)’s shoulder and began trying to comfort her.

“I know- I know but-” (Y/N) sniffled, “Hold on, my mascara will run.”

“You’re not wearing any?-” Namjoon raised a brow and looked at (Y/N) like ‘bih-’

“Shush.” (Y/N) shushed Namjoon before shaking off his hand and placing her head on his shoulder.

“You know you can’t prevent me from getting a boyfriend forever.” (Y/N) looked at Namjoon before continuing to pack her bag for school.

“I can and I will.” Namjoon slung his own bag over his shoulder. He was definitely a professor.

“You can’t make me be single forever.” (Y/N) rolled her eyes and slung her backpack onto her shoulders.

“Your preferences in men are horrible (Y/N), I'm not trying to prevent you from getting a man.” Namjoon said in a matter of fact voice, moving and opening the front door, letting (Y/N) pass through before he walked out behind her.

She scoffed, “maybe you should hook me up with someone, maybe then you can leave rehab.”

“I miss Meatloaf,” Namjoon said solemnly, changing the subject.

“Why do you always change the subject when I bring up my love life?” (Y/N) complained, stomping her foot as they walked down the hallway of the apartment building toward the elevator.

“Do you think Yoongi will respond if we try to summon him?” He ignored the question.

“Hey Joon? Is your dick ribbed? I heard all the demon dicks were ribbed.”

Namjoon stopped in his tracks, putting his feet together and staring down at the human with a face screaming ‘what-the-fuck?’ (Y/N) had a boxy smile on her face, waiting for a response. “Who the fuck did you hear that from?”

“A fanfic I read, it was a group called DTS,” she shrugged. “Is it right though?” she leaned forward slightly in high expectations.

“Well-” Namjoon paused, “uhhh…” his eyes darted around. “Mine… isn’t.”

“Damn- that’s really disappointing,” (Y/N) frowned, throwing down an imaginary hat onto the ground and continuing walking with Namjoon following behind her.

“Why is it disappointing? You’re a virgin.” Namjoon raised an eyebrow.

“Why would you think I’m a virgin?” (Y/N) looked offended. They stopped in front of the closed silver elevator doors, Namjoon hit the down button before responding.

“You literally had no social life in middle and high school and depended on demons who were attached to you by force in order to not lose your ability to speak in English.” Namjoon raised a finger, “Plus I’ve known you since you were ten and unless it was before that… I would know.” He slipped into the elevator, turning around and walking backwards. A know-it-all smirk plastered on his face while (Y/N) had an annoyed look on her own.

“Can we just- stop before we start arguing about my sex life?” She marched forward into the elevator like a preteen going into their room after an argument with their parents.

“How did you even become a professor?” (Y/N) looked at Namjoon confused. “Couldn’t you have just you know… poofed yourself from people’s view when I go to school?”

“I need something to do while you’re in class. I might as well teach asshole frat boys how to do business math amiright.” Namjoon chuckled.

“I mean… you can just be the ghost you are and haunt me n’ stuff?” (Y/N) suggested, “I mean you already do that, Casper.”

“That’s Professor Casper to you.” Namjoon laughed too hard at his own joke.

“Ew,” (Y/N) cringed. “I’d rather call you Daddy Casper.”

“Only in the bedroom.” Namjoon looked at the human.

“Sex doesn’t always have to be private.” (Y/N) stared back at the demon, flipping her hair back. “Wait- are YOU a virgin then?” She asked, bringing back the topic from earlier, but this time about Namjoon.

“Classified.” Namjoon glared.

“So you ARE a virgin?” (Y/N) snorted a laugh, “And you call yourself a demon.”

“Not all demons are incubi or succubi, your demon-racist.” Namjoon accused.

“I am not demon-racist.” (Y/N) looked up at the tall demon, “I’m human.”

“You’re not a human, you’re the personification of the word ‘dumbass.’” He said, poking the proclaimed dumbass on the forehead.

“Rude of you to assume what I am, Casper.” (Y/N) smacked away his hand and pushed Namjoon not so gently on the shoulder.

“Now you’re the hypocrite,” Namjoon glared, “Professor Casper.” (Y/N) rolled her eyes, “Daddy Casper.”

Namjoon frowned, “If you’re so persistent on not calling me Professor, then just Daddy works fine.”

The girl shrugged, “I’d prefer to just call you Daddy Casper, but without the Daddy part.”

“But what if I want to be called Daddy Casper.” Namjoon wiggled his eyebrows suggestively as they walked through the gates of the school, the walk soon enough would be coming to an end.

“Woahhhh down bessie.” (Y/N) lifted her hands and moved them in a downward motion, “Save it for the student who’s gonna try to fuck you for their grade.”

Namjoon laughed again, “You say it as if it won’t be you trying to fuck for an A.”

“I don’t get how an idiot like you got a job as a professor.” (Y/N) punched Professor Namjoon on the shoulder who was still laughing at the insult he pulled out his ass against the girl.

“I don’t know how an idiot like you got into college.” Namjoon rubbed his shoulder and then pushed (Y/N) back with a grin on his face. The bell conveniently rang, ending the conversation and forcing the pair to speed their way over to the classrooms.

“You know I saw one of the sorority girls eyeing you, I think we’ve found our fuck-for-a-grade person.” (Y/N) looked at Namjoon, “You wouldn’t fuck her right?”

“I would never fuck one of my students.” Namjoon looked at (Y/N), “Plus I don’t like cheerleaders, I like depressed freshmen who can see demons and that double time as rehab facilities.”

“I am not a rehab facility. I am a struggling freshman.” (Y/N) clapped at Namjoon.

“No you’re not a rehab facility, you’re my rehab facility.” Namjoon smiled cheekily, “And the way I see it you are not a struggling freshman, you live with a professor that helps you with most of your homework.”

“Eh- The one thing you don’t help with is stress relief.” (Y/N) looked at Namjoon, “The least you could do is let me go out and find a boyfriend.”

“You HAVE a boyfriend.” Namjoon looked at (Y/N) seriously.

“WHERE? WHO?” (Y/N)’s eyes frantically searched the room.

“HERE! ME!” Namjoon pointed at himself and then widened his eyes.(Y/N) looked at Namjoon with a raised brow, her frantic eyes stopping and looking the demon up and down.

“I didn’t know you had a rental-boyfriend service?” (Y/N) said in genuine shock, “I don’t have any money though so-“

“You don’t have to rent me.” Namjoon scoffed, “I’m right here and I cost no money.”

“I don’t take charity work, sorry.” Namjoon groaned and covered his face with a hand.

“You’re literally the most stubborn person I know.”

“I’m trying to keep my single streak here, thank you very much.”

“Wait so we aren’t dating?”

“You thought we were dating?”

“You didn’t think that?”

“You like me?”

“You didn’t know?”

“I mean- you never said it-”

“I literally said it seconds ago, (Y/N).”

“Well yeah, seconds ago I guess but I mean before?”

“I literally confessed to you when we were looking for apartments to move out of your parents house.”

“When?-”

“What about this place then?”

“I like it.”

“More than you like me?”

“No.”

“Good.”

“Are you questioning my love for you?”

“Bitch, maybe I am.”

“You shouldn’t.”

“Why shouldn’t I be questioning it then, hmm?”

“I’m literally helping you look for a home that we both will move into.”

“That proves nothing.”

“Bitch- If that doesn’t say ‘I LOVE YOU’ I don’t know what does.”

“Oh, I don't know. Maybe saying ‘I love you’ straight up?”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

“I love you.”

“Nice.”

“Ohhhhhh.” (Y/N) smiled, “You meant that?”

Namjoon looked at her with a blank face. She stared back waiting for an answer that didn’t come.

“So… you do mean it?” She confirmed it herself. The demon nodded slowly, waiting for her to process it.

“(Y/N)? You good?” Namjoon waved a hand in front of her face.

“You know,” she started, finally having rebooted her system. “There’s a lot of things wrong with this relationship. First of all, you’re a demon and I'm a human.”

“Not the first time I've heard of that type of relationship.”

“Secondly, you’re supposed to leave soon considering you’ve delayed it enough. Even using my personified dreamcatcher as compensation to stay longer.”

“I’m pretty sure at this point, they’ve given up on trying to get me back.”

“Third of all, it’s weird that you’ve literally known me since I was ten.” She held up ten fingers, “How old are you again?”

“Not that old for a demon,” he shrugged.

“Exactly. For a demon, thank you for proving my point.” Namjoon went to retort but (Y/N) continued. “Fourth, teacher and student relationships are weird.”

“People roleplay it in the bedroom?” Namjoon shrugged once again.

“Exactly,” she said again.

“It’s technically not weird since you’re not my student though. You’re definitely not a business major so…” Namjoon weighed the pros and cons of being caught with a student even if said student isn’t even one of his.

“I’m an English Major- BUT that’s besides the point. You’ve still known me since I was ten.” (Y/N) poked Namjoon’s chest.

“Hey it’s not like I was creeping on you when you were a kid…” Namjoon raised his hands in defense.

“No you just started creeping on me when I was around sixteen.”

“It’s more acceptable than pedophiles!”

“You’re like three hundred!” She exclaimed, she threw her hands above her head to

“Add about seven-hundred years to that.” Namjoon added with slight hesitation.

(Y/N) stood there, mouth agape, trying to do the mental math.

“You’re one-thousand?!”

“Give or take some.”

“I- I’m going to remove myself from this situation.” (Y/N) walked away.

[:] I ran out of image things, so we get text from now on. [:]

“Maybe I should start sleeping in the closet.” Namjoon voiced his thoughts as he was grading papers one night.

“You don’t have to sleep in the closet.” (Y/N) looked at the demon from across the kitchen table.

“The closet is comfortable.” Namjoon shrugged before voicing his concerns about the student’s work, “I’m pretty sure this student is gonna try to suck my dick for an A. This work sucks ass. How did she even get x=34? The answer is x=0!”

“I’m bad at math, don't look at me.” (Y/N) jotted a note down on her work before closing her notebook.

“But anyway- Back on track. Why do you want to start sleeping in the closet?” (Y/N) raised a questioning brow.

“Because the bed is awkward now.” Namjoon sighed before writing a bold ‘10/35’ down on the paper and circling it. (Y/N) glanced over at the paper that was marked red at every inch of it.

“You should put ‘see me after class’ on it. Maybe she’ll suck your non-ribbed demon dick.” (Y/N) suggests as she puts away her notebook. Namjoon’s fist hit the table in annoyance with a loud sigh that definitely said ‘i’m not getting some dumb bitch to suck my dick.’ The girl snorted, “Geez, no need to be so rough on the table.”

“Stop bringing up my non-ribbed demon dick.” Namjoon glared across the table.

“You admit that it’s not ribbed? That’s rough, man.” (Y/N) sighed sympathetically. “Some people are into that, you know.” Namjoon facepalmed, a bit too harshly, a loud smack echoing in the cramped apartment. “No need to be so rough, Casper.”

“You’d probably like it rough, and why the hell are you so bent on the fact that my dick isn’t ribbed?” Namjoon glared, moving onto the next student’s paper.

“We’ve taken the god damn BDSM test together, Casper. You KNOW I'd like it rough.” (Y/N) said in a smart-ass tone, knowing for a fact that they’ve done the test before.

“That shit lies,” Namjoon declared, “I’m not a bottom.”

“We know sweetie, we know. The test did you dirty.” (Y/N) weighed her options before ultimately deciding not to cross the room to comfort her demon. “But you know, the test DID have some direct questions-”

“You mean like the golden showers?”

“Ew, why would you even bring that up.”

“You said ‘direct questions.'” Namjoon shrugged.

“That question was traumatic.” (Y/N) shuddered, “But anyway, You can keep sleeping in the bed. It’s only awkward for you. Plus you can’t even be a demon dreamcatcher from a closet.”

“I can and I will. Now go get ready for bed. I'll join you in a bit. I have to email the kids' advisor.”

[:] Oh wow, another spliter [:]

“What’s awkward about this?” (Y/N) asked, ignorant to the fact that it was very awkward. Her legs were wrapped around the demon’s waist, who was laying down as straight as a log uncomfortably.

“Everything is uncomfortable.” Namjoon tried to push (Y/N) off of him.

“This is where you’re wrong,” (Y/N) states. “Your chesticles are very comfortable.” She furthered her point, by moving her head and weirdly nuzzling her cheek into his chest.

“(Y/N) get off of me.” Namjoon was now really uncomfortable.

“No.” (Y/N) pulled Namjoon’s log-body closer.

“Please?” Namjoon wiggled some more, “Seriously (Y/N) get off.”

“No…” (Y/N) held Namjoon tighter, “Imma go sleep now.”

“Ok (Y/N).” With that Namjoon pushed (Y/N) up and off of him and climbed out of bed and into the closet.

(Y/N) whined, “Nooooooo!” She looked at the closet through her eyebrows. “Are you hiding something from me?” She accused the demon.

“Excuse me?” Namjoon opened the closet door a bit.

“Oh my god- are you a closet gay?” She gasped loudly.

“WHAT?” Namjoon looked at (Y/N) from the crack in the doorway.

“It’s okay! You don’t need to use a fake confession to hide it from me.” She comforted the demon, “I will support you 1000 percent.”

“I’M NOT GAY!” Namjoon wiggled around in the closet before emerging from the space.

“Okay okay- but just so you know, there’s nothing wrong with being gay, Casper. Closeted or not.” She hummed, her words being muffled as she slowly put her face into the mattress.

“It’s been awkward since you basically called me a cradle robber, you stubborn piece of shit.” Namjoon blushed at his confession.

“I thought you didn’t care about that earlier.” (Y/N) looked back up, taking a deep breath of air after almost suffocating herself.

“Well I did.” Namjoon huffed out the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

“Well that sucks,” (Y/N) said blandly, “I was thinking of saying I love you.”

“The fuck- wait,” Namjoon’s eyes widened.

“Night night.”

[:] Cockadoodle-Doo it's morning [:]

The next morning came around quickly for (Y/N), though I wouldn’t say the same for Namjoon. Having him overthinking the “postponed” love confession from (Y/N). Meanwhile, though the night was quick, the morning dragged the girl by the toilet paper stuck at the bottom of her shoe.

Frown plastered on her face, seemingly deep in thought. She was unmoving in her seat aside from her wrist moving to stir the half eaten cereal in front of her. Namjoon sat across from her, “You can stop thinking, you’re going to hurt your head.”

The insult snapped the girl out of her concentration, she looked up and clicked her tongue. “I was just thinking about you. You want me to stop doing that?”

Namjoon raised a brow, “Depends on what you were thinking about.”

“I was wondering if we could summon the boys,” (Y/N) smiled before continuing, “Maybe get my socks back…”

“Are you saying you’d enjoy the company of your socks more than you with me?” Namjoon asked rhetorically with a shocked expression. (Y/N) gagged and rolled her eyes.

“Namjoon…” she said with a honey coated tone. “Are you saying you don’t know that I know you’ve used MY socks before?” The accused had a shocked look on his face that looked like he was on the verge of throwing up.

(Y/N) started snickering, amused by the demon’s expression. “As if I'd use your cheap ass yellow striped socks,” Namjoon aimed his nose at the ceiling. The girl laughed harder, finding the insult to her socks a bit too amusing.

“Okay, back on topic,” she said in between giggles, “We’ll get back to this later.” Namjoon shook his head, unamused unlike the person across from him.

The offended sock insulter cleared his throat, “We should have enough time before we need to go to the school to summon one of them.” He said in a factual voice, (Y/N) nodded as she took a glance at the time that read 7:23 am.

“What did we need again?” She got up from the stool she sat on, abandoning the poor soggy cereal. Namjoon got up also with a hum of thought.

“Candles and a lighter are the main things, obviously,” He says. (Y/N) nodded going into one of the kitchen cabinets for the items. “And if we’re summoning all of them, we’d need offerings…” Namjoon drifted off.

(Y/N) put down the candles onto the marble counter and looked at Namjoon questionably, “So… we need another hamster and dog?” This made the demon pause before nodding slowly, the situation becoming a bit more difficult than it needed to be now.

“And then what about Hobi? What he took wasn’t exactly… a physical object?” She also put it into consideration and clicked her tongue. “I’m still mad at you for sacrificing my literal source of happiness and good luck for yourself.” Namjoon’s jaw dropped.

“I thought we were past this!” He threw his hands up in the air, (Y/N) flipping him off simultaneously.

“Maybe you were,” she sassed, pointing fingers with a half assed glare.

“Technically, it wasn’t a sacrifice, (Y/N).” He said, crossing his arms.

“Well-” She was cut off by the demon.

“Nuh uh, It was just him choosing to leave and wanting to stay,” he snapped, not in a harsh way though.

“But-”

“You know what, let’s just try and summon them another day. I don’t think it’d work anyways.” Namjoon said, dismissing the topic by waving his hand, taking a glance at the tree outside.

[:] Wooshy flash back time I guess [:]

“Why are you still here?” (Y/N) looked at Namjoon, “I mean weren’t you supposed to leave this year?”

“I was supposed to leave instead of Hobi last year. I asked to stay.” Namjoon was sitting nonchalantly in one of the lounge chairs in her parents' living room reading the book she was supposed to be reading for school.

“Why didn’t you leave when you were supposed to?” (Y/N) looked at the demon, a look of confusion evident on her features.

“Who else is supposed to write your book reports for school?” Namjoon smirked while holding up the book before going back to reading said book.

“Then why did Hobi leave? Did he not want to be attached anymore?” (Y/N) began to tear up.

“It’s not that. I asked to stay because I felt I wasn’t ready to leave yet and Hoseok felt he was ready to leave. Most of the time, we leave when our time comes (Y/N). Hobi and mine were at the same time and I wanted to stay so I stayed.” Namjoon smiled at (Y/N).

“But why didn’t Hobi want to stay?” (Y/N)’s tears were flowing freely at this point.

“(Y/N)! Are you crying?” (Y/N)’s mom came rushing downstairs to investigate why her only child was crying.

“I’m fine.” Even (Y/N) wasn’t convincing herself, “Really Mom, I’m just over exhausted. I’m gonna go up to my room.”

[:] And back to the present :) [:]

“Are you almost ready to go?” Namjoon popped his head into the bedroom, “We have to leave soon if you want to be on time for school.”

“I’m almost ready, relax. And don’t you have a class to teach and a non-ribbed dick to get sucked by that one bitch for an A?” (Y/N) scoffed from where she was printing an essay that Namjoon had written the night before.

Namjoon started counting down from five, “Five- You better fucking get your ass in gear or you’re gonna be late. Four- Seriously (Y/N). Three- Professor Howard can’t give you another pass just because he likes you. Two-” Namjoon got cut off by (Y/N).

“I’m ready, asshole.” (Y/N) looked at him, “You better not let that bitch Brianna suck your dick.”

“I won’t let her suck my dick!” Namjoon raised his hands in defense, “What about my toes though?” (Y/N) looked at the demon with a face of disgust and looked at him from head to toe.

“Are you Namjoon or Taehyung?” She squinted, looking at his face.

“It was a joke!” Namjoon smirked, “But I'm sure she’ll do it for an A anyway.”

“I’m done with this conversation Casper.” With that (Y/N) slung her bag over her shoulder and left.

“Hey wait!” Namjoon grabbed his own bag before speed walking after (Y/N).

[:] Professor Casper or Daddy Casper? [:]

“SO.” (Y/N) sat down across from Namjoon in his office, “Rumour has it that you’re dating a cute english-lit major and are up for evaluation. What say you in your defense?”

“I mean I am dating a cute english-lit major. But I’m not up for evaluation, I used my demon charms to get out the punishment.”

Namjoon looked at (Y/N) seriously.

“Did you actually?” (Y/N) gaped at Namjoon.

“No. I explained that dating you is punishment enough.” Namjoon smiled, his dimples popping.

“Bastard.” (Y/N)looked at Namjoon.

“Bitch.” Namjoon smirked at (Y/N) before leaning over the desk and kissing her on the forehead, “I love you.”

“Good.” (Y/N) blushed.

There, through the window of the office, there were 6 peeping toms watching the couple.

“Adadada-uda,” Taehyung stuttered, “THEY’RE SO CUTE!”

“This looks like it’d turn out like a straight porn video on the hub,” Yoongi says bluntly.

Jungkook looked at Yoongi, “Ew straight.”

“Moving on,” Seokjin cleared his throat, “Does anyone remember when (Y/N) said I love you back?”

A series of “No’s” could be heard.

“Maybe we weren’t watching!” Jimin raised his hands, “But when were we not watching?”

“Oh I know!” Hoseok interrupted, “When they split up because of classes earlier. We left Yoongi hyung in charge just in case something happened.”

“I took a nap and must've missed it.” The guilty demon shrugged.

“No, (Y/N) definitely isn’t someone who confesses straight up.” Seokjin said, stroking his chin. The rest nodded in agreement.

“Yeah, that's why she didn’t have a man when we were still there.” Jungkook snorted.

“No JK, we all know the reason why (Y/N) was always single. Was because she was pining after Namjoon.” Jimin stated the obvious.

[:] Damn. Imagine having someone to kiss in public. Or at all. [:]

“So how do you reckon the staff caught onto us… I mean PDA really isn’t our thing.” Namjoon looked at (Y/N), “Who have you told?”

“I haven’t told anyone!” (Y/N) frowned, “Maybe someone saw us go home together? I bet it was that bitch Brianna. She gives off the stalker vibes.”

“I’m not gonna let her suck my dick.” Namjoon looked at (Y/N), “And she’s already failing my class so even if I did let her suck my non-ribbed punisher, she still would probably only have a D-.”

“Hey- I thought we stopped referring to your dick as non-ribbed.” Namjoon raised a brow, making a face that said ‘you’re-the-one-who-started-it.’

Reading his expression (Y/N) glared at the demon, “Technically you’re the one who started it because you freely admitted it freely.”

“What makes you find out the hard way that my dick isn’t ribbed?” Namjoon looked at (Y/N) suggestively before flopping namtiddie first into the couch.

“I think I would've preferred finding out the hard way.” (Y/N) flopping onto Namjoon’s hard back.

“So I can’t even have the couch to myself?” Namjoon groaned before realizing what (Y/N) meant by ‘finding out the hard way,’ “Are you saying you rather had found out in the heat of the moment after having prepared yourself for a ribbed demon dick?” Namjoon leaned his head up to bump (Y/N) who still had her fat ass on his back, “I can’t breathe, get off.”

(Y/N) rolled off of Namjoon before plopping herself down in front of Namjoon, “That’s exactly what I am saying.”

[:] Smh stalkers at every moment [:]

“And I got a big fat ass!” (Y/N) shook her ass while singing off-key.

“Your ass is everything but big, baby.” Namjoon passed (Y/N) to reach for the garlic from the spice cabinet.

The girl turned and looked at Namjoon with an offended look, “You know. As my rental boyfriend, you’re supposed to be nice.”

Garlic forgot, Namjoon turned to (Y/n) and grabbed her waist, “I’m not your rental boyfriend and you know that.”

(Y/N) laughed, “Okay go off I guess, not my rental boyfriend.” (Y/N) rolled her eyes before pushing Namjoon away.

“Woman,” Namjoon placed a hand over his heart, “You wound me.”

(Y/N) turned around and smiled at her demon, “I could argue that you’re the one that wounds me.”

“I do not wound you.” Namjoon scoffs, “But I could very well wound you if you keep saying i’m a rental boyfriend, love.”

“Well we wouldn’t want you to wound me now would we,” (Y/N) smiled up at Namjoon before leaning in and placing a quick peck to his lips, “I love you.”

Namjoon smiled before returning (Y/N)’s peck with a chaste kiss, “I love you too, baby.”

*Meanwhile from the dining room 6 men were watching from not so afar*

“Hyung! Hyung! Did you see that!” Jungkook excitedly pointed towards the couple in the kitchen.

Yoongi groaned, “See what?”

“Le gasp! How could you have missed that!” Taehyung held a hand over his heart, “(Y/N) initiated affection for once!”

Jin smiled, “It really was adorable.”

[:] Oh look, you're at the end. [:]

“Every kiss begins with consent.” Namjoon wiggled his shoulders while grading papers at the table.

(Y/N) smirked before leaning over the table and planting a large whet kiss on Namjoon’s cheek.

“Rude.” Namjoon scoffed before pulling (Y/N) in for a proper kiss.

“You know that kiss didn’t have much of my consent in it.” (Y/N) smiled before leaning in for another kiss.

“I don’t think I consented to that either though.” Namjoon smiled.

“Get back to work baby.” (Y/N) nudged Namjoon towards his pile of papers.

“Yeah yeah.” Namjoon smiled before looking down and putting a big red ‘F’ on a paper clearly marked Brianna Simms.

“When will she just drop the class?” (Y/N) chuckled, “Dumbass.”

all rights reserved © misfit-fics

do not repost, translate, or claim as your own. :]

[starlocked01]

The Black Coffee Widower

AO3 Link

Dukexiety Week Day 3- Coffee Shop

WC: 4.2K

Summary: Virgil works the late-night shift at the local coffee shop. That's where he poisons and picks up his victims. He wasn't ready for the one who didn't fight back.

Content Warnings (there's a lot today): Serial Killer/Coffee Shop AU Unsympathetic Virgil, Poisoning, Kidnapping, Swearing, Gun Violence, Negative Self-talk, Self Hatred, Murder and Attempted Murder, Implied Sexual content. Sexual innuendo, referenced rape, referenced mutilation, Strangulation, Hospitals, Police

@dukexietyweek

The simple fact was that they glowed. Virgil had long ago given up on trying to explain it to himself; they just glowed when he saw them. It was like a premonition- a beautiful soft light that needed to be contained lest it sullied the rest of the world by leaving it dim and grungy in comparison.

Virgil was grungy. He knew very well he didn't and would never glow as they did. Maybe that was the reason why. Maybe if he ever had to tell someone why he did it, he'd tell them that.

He killed them because they glowed and no one should be able to glow.

However, he'd never cared all that much about the whys. The hows were so much more fun. How did he pick his victims? Easy. They glowed and walked in at the wrong time. How did a weak, little, pathetic loser subdue the perfect glowing people? Bitter coffee was a perfect cover for bitter poisons. How did he end their lives? Any way he pleased.

How did he avoid detection? A healthy dose of anxiety kept him careful. Too many of the brightest glowing people escaped because they'd be missed. He never went by his legal name anywhere. He stayed patient and alert. He was the nobody that no one could ever remember. Playing barista sucked but it was the perfect cover. No one ever suspected the sulky, little, dimwitted worker stuck on the insomniacs shift at the quiet little 24-hour cafe. And no one ever really noticed if the store's hours were a bit unpredictable between 2 am and 4 am. That was the best time for hunting; it worked and Virgil wasn't going to stop anytime soon.

---

Virgil knelt, his latest catch already unconscious and tied up behind the counter when the doorbell chimed. Cursing at himself for forgetting to lock the door, Virgil grabbed a refill pack of napkins and stood cautiously. He gasped, finding the man who had entered shone twice as brightly as the woman he already had tied up. Certain that Miss Double-Soy-Latte-with-Hazelnut-Syrup-and-Whipped-Cream-you-got-that-Sugar? wasn't about to wake up and cause a scene, Virgil watched the man as he studied the menu.

The first thing he would do is take the man’s studded wrist gauntlet and fishnet fingerless gloves. Those things couldn't belong to someone who glows. Virgil squinted and could just make out a loosely looped studded belt to match, hanging off the man’s hip and exposing his lack of undergarments. Virgil hungrily followed the curve of that hip with his eyes up to the man's stomach peeking out underneath the ragged edge of a homemade cropped band t-shirt. He wanted to punch that stomach, to feel what it was like when the man tensed and when he stayed soft in compliance.

Next, he stared at shapely arms crossed in front of the man's chest. Those arms looked strong as a vice and he wondered how much effort it would take to break those delicate bones to render the muscles useless. Would he break first?

The man wore a sleeveless leather vest, displaying a museum's worth of inkwork, tentacles and snakes, and other writhing forms accented periodically with teeth and eyes and fangs and beaks. A rendition of the Harry Potter Death Eater mark set into the shoulder and tattooed thorns circled his neck. Virgil found himself getting hot under the collar and decided two in one night would be a fun challenge.

It was hard to see the man’s face until he flashed Virgil a brilliantly blinding smile as if on cue. The smile was all the sign Virgil needed to know this man would die tonight. He was practically begging Virgil to save him from the light radiating from his face. His gorgeous, handsome, wild-eyed face.

Virgil wanted so badly to touch the messy, overdue 5 o'clock shadow, to feel the scars left by razor nicks and frequent skin irritation. He wanted to wipe away the heavy eyeliner and mascara, run dirty fingers through greasy, dyed hair. He wanted those eyes to see him for who he is so he could spare them the pain of hoping there had been another ending once he'd entered the shop.

If the stranger was uncomfortable with his intense gaze, he certainly didn't show it as he approached the counter. Virgil squirmed as a cacophony of overlapping mismatched beats of a second hand overwhelmed his entire sense of hearing. Looking down, he quickly spotted a wristwatch on the unconscious woman's wrist and stepped on it to deaden the maddening sound. Soon all he could hear was the new customer's watch ticking erratically as though it needed to be wound up.

"Heya, kitten! Like what you see, baby?" the man smirked at Virgil as he leaned down on the counter and made sultry suggestive eyes at him.

"Excuse me?" Virgil hissed, recoiling from the familiarity.

"Woah, kitty's got claws huh?" the man giggled. Virgil stiffened, well aware how close the man could come to looking down and spotting the woman. And if he attempted to turn him in it wouldn't end pretty. He didn't want to have to clean up the shop after a struggle before having his fun.

"What are you ordering?" Virgil asked tersely.

"Me-ow. Guess you don't swing my way- darn. I bet you've got a totally bodacious booty too," the man batted his eyelashes at Virgil.

"That isn't on the menu. Order or get lost, yeah?" Virgil growled, trying to seem as disinterested in the enticing man as he could manage.

"Right. Seven shots of espresso, a shot of creamer, and a shot of the pineapple ginger concentrate, s'il vous plait," the man listed off as though he'd ordered the same thing a hundred times.

Virgil froze, unsure how to ring up the disgusting concoction, "what the hell? What kind of drink is that?"

"It's like me. One of a kind," the man beamed, brushing bleached silver hair out of his eyes, "can you handle that, kitty kat?"

"Stop with the pet names," Virgil rolled his eyes and finished inputting the drink, "um.. that will be… $6.69."

"Eyo! Sixty niiiiiiine," the man giggled emphatically while pulling out his money to pay.

Virgil rolled his eyes, "childish. Name for the order?"

"Uh, your phone number."

"What?"

"Damn you don't take hints!" the man placed one hand on his chest and bowed with a flourish, "my name is Remus, and I think you're very cute, kitty kat."

"You are maddening! Just call me Virgil!" he snapped, getting a cup ready to prepare the last drink Remus would ever have, "it's gonna take a minute to pull all those shots. Gosh… that much caffeine could kill you…" Virgil smirked at his own joke.

Remus took the smirk for a friendly smile and grinned, "I got all night for you, Virgil."

"That's cute. I'll let you know when it's ready," Virgil smiled, making direct eye contact as he added his favorite blend of sedatives to Remus’s cup.

It only took 30 seconds before Remus hit the floor with a confused grunt. Virgil was almost impressed the man had downed half the drink in one gulp. Moving quickly, Virgil locked the shop and dragged Remus back behind the counter, binding and gagging the flirtatious idiot. Tonight was going to be so special.

---

It hadn’t been easy, moving both bodies- cursing his weak, pathetic self the entire time. He made sure to dose both of them again after stashing them in the trunk so he could go back and finish out his shift.

He smiled pleasantly at the officers who stopped by just before the morning shift, careful to not give them any reason to be suspicious as he packed up day-old donuts and prepared two drinks nearly as caffeinated as Remus’s drink had been but significantly less poisoned. But still a little poisoned because fuck the police.

It took every muscle in Virgil’s body to not run gleefully to the car when the morning shift came to relieve him from work. He hid his excitement behind his usual persona of snarky disinterest and exhaustion until he was safely in the car and blasting his favorite CD on the drive home.

Pulling directly into the garage, Virgil shut down the car and giggled as the door shut slowly on his prisoners' last hope for rescue. Working at a leisurely pace, Virgil dragged first Remus then the woman down into his basement, both drowsy and barely able to make a complaint. It only seemed fair they die in the order they'd been caught so Virgil laid Remus out on the couch while he tied the woman down to his workbench.

The woman began to moan pathetically just as Virgil was tying down the last limb. It was not a moment too soon. He chuckled to himself and smacked her face a few times to help her wake up.

"Look alive, sunshine! You won't be much longer, I'm afraid," Virgil quipped as she blinked awake and started to panic at the restraints holding her down.

God, he hated when they screamed almost as much as he hated the watches. Virgil waited as long as he could stand the high-pitched whining pleas for freedom and help before loudly shushing until she quieted.

"Shh! Stop yelling or I will restrict your breathing," Virgil hissed, laying a prohibitive finger to her lips, "I promise you'll live longer if you stay quiet."

"You'll let me go?"

"No. I'll just take my time," Virgil smirked as the color drained from her face and her lip began to quiver, "ohh. Ohh, don't be so dramatic, sweetheart. It's time to grow up and realize death is inevitable."

Virgil laughed as she started screaming again, only turning away when Remus stirred from his sleep.

"Oh, dear. You've woken up my other guest. Now you know, he's special. You're going to have the life choked out of you, slowly but surely, but he gets to lose a lot more than his life. Count yourself lucky, sweetheart." Virgil turned to examine the man on the couch again as he blearily blinked up at him.

"You coulda'sked, kitkat," Remus mumbled nearly incomprehensibly. Virgil tilted his head in confusion as he watched Remus. The man slowly regained awareness, and even as Virgil stood above him with a hard frown, he smiled back up at his captor.

"What the hell are you getting on about?" Virgil asked with a growl, hoping to startle that unsettling grin off Remus’ face.

Remus laughed, "you coulda just asked if you wanted to do a scene, cutie! Although I love the attention to realism. Like you actually drugged me to bring me home!"

Virgil stared, completely in shock at what he was hearing, "wait.. you think…"

"That you were too shy to ask me out so you drugged me and dragged me back home? Yes," Remus nodded enthusiastically, "if you have some whips and an electric hand mixer we can have some real fun, you sexy little kitten!" Remus bumped his eyebrows suggestively, leaving Virgil absolutely stunned.

"What is going on here?!?" the woman on the table cried out.

"Shut the hell up!" Virgil barked back at her, too confused to do much more than stare at Remus. Why did he like this? Why did Virgil like that Remus liked this? He felt hot and confused but also certain about one thing he absolutely wanted.

Experimentally he reached down and laid his hand on Remus’ exposed stomach. Watching Remus for his reaction, Virgil slowly slid his hand along the skin and up to Remus’s chest. Remus shut his eyes with a smile and shivered at the touch, "oh yeah, baby. I can purr for you, kitty. Anything you want."

Virgil inhaled sharply, pulling back his hand and looking back at the other prisoner as she lay whimpering on the table.

Well shit, what was he supposed to do with a captive audience?

---

Virgil didn't know what he'd been thinking, letting Remus go after all was said and done. Remus had been fun and so down for all of his sickest fantasies, supplying quite a few of his own. He'd stolen Remus’ watch and put it on the woman's body before shooting both timepieces on her wrist. The ticking had probably driven him to let Remus go. That had to explain it

He dumped the woman as far as he possibly could and hoped beyond reason that Remus wouldn't recognize her in the news and realized what he'd done. For a week he lived in fear of the cops showing up at work or worse his house, armed with search warrants and one hell of a witness. For a week, nothing happened.

It turned out he'd worried for nothing. Just when Virgil began to itch again to get rid of another glowing being, despite the police pressure pushing him to lay low, Remus came back in during his shift.

"Hello, my little purrrfect kitten!" Remus beamed as he walked into the shop.

Virgil froze and slowly turned back to face him, "you- you came back?"

"Mhm. Never got your number but I wanted to see you again, Virgie. Figured we could have some more fun this time," Remus smirked as he leaned casually against the counter, "one usual with the special sauce please!"

"Special sauce?" Virgil asked, still amazed Remus had even come back to the cafe.

"You know," Remus leaned in close and whispered, "the stuff that knocks me out so you can take me home and we can get it on freakier than my last BDSM club"

"Wow, you- you liked it that much?" Virgil let out a low whistle. He studied Remus again, stricken by the fact he didn't glow so much this time. Even though Virgil wanted to take care of another glowing bastard, he was so much more interested in this willing abductee.

"Yeah, I did! That shit's hot as fuck!" Remus beamed. Virgil checked the time on his terminal display and realized it was nearly the time his least favorite police patrons would be making their morning run.

"Look, uh… why don't we save the tranqs for my place?" Virgil smirked as he started to prepare Remus’ strange order, "I'm amazed this drink doesn't put you in a coma already."

Remus giggled, "sometimes it takes a little something extra to get the heart pumping, yeah?"

"Hm. Well, I get off in two hours-"

"I'll be sitting right here in the corner then. I wanna get to know you, Virgie."

"A horrible mistake for you, really," Virgil laughed, heart fluttering far too much.

"Plus I think I left my watch at your place…"

"I haven't seen it this week. We can look though," Virgil lied smoothly, knowing very well the police had the timepiece in evidence.

Remus kept flirting as Virgil cleaned the store and served the early morning crowd, true to his word about waiting to leave with Virgil. They walked out to his car and Remus held out his arm expectantly when they sat down.

"What?" Virgil asked suspiciously.

"You're off the clock, let's get this party started. Surely you have the special stuff in here- you injected me last time."

Virgil flushed, "um.. really? You don't want to wait to know where we're going first?"

"How am I supposed to pretend I'm getting kidnapped if you don't knock me out? At least tie my hands?" Remus bat his eyes at Virgil who rolled his eyes and leaned over to grab a scarf out of the glove box.

"You're ridiculous."

"Yeah but you like it, kitten."

---

Logan stared at the evidence bored, absolutely baffled. In 5 months there had been 18 victims, a consistent signature, and every promise that someone would turn up with a connection to this perp. Or someone should know where these folks had been headed when they fell into the unsub's trap.

And then after Lydia with the two watches- nothing. No bodies were found for weeks. No whisperings of the media-named Black Widower who aggressively mutilated his male victims almost beyond recognition after raping them and humiliated the women after strangling them with silk scarves.

"I just don’t understand. Guys like this don’t go dormant! It's against every drive they have. What are we missing, Patton?"

Patton looked up from his third cup of coffee, "I don't know, Lo. What about the two-unsub theory? Maybe they met up and are keeping each other occupied?"

Logan rolled his eyes, "oh sure. Two serial killers, one who's gay and one who hates women meet and start playing house. Real cute."

"It could happen…" Patton replied defensively, already reaching for a second donut as his partner glared disapprovingly.

"No. I think it's the same unsub. The watches are always shot while the victim wears them. It's consistent. It's a single, unique signature that the media still hasn't published. If it's two different killers, they knew about each other and were purposefully copying each other long before they went dormant."

"Well, I'm not going to complain that we aren't finding more victims. I'd rather people not be mysteriously killed and maimed by the Black Widower...s," Patton lifted his chin defiantly. He stood and walked over to the evidence board, studying the geographic profile again, the map showing a confusing cluster of dumpsites, victim's homes, and last sightings, and puzzled over the strangeness of the case.

"If this case goes cold, we may never find the unsub. He lives his life, free to decide to start again while all of his victims lay rotting in the ground. Their families don't deserve to live with that fear," Logan sighed heavily in near defeat, "of course I don’t want more victims. I want this man caught. Why did he suddenly stop?"

---

For a month, Remus had come in once or twice a week, asking Virgil for the secret sauce and flirting with him until the end of his shift. The randomness of his timing and anticipation of his visits made it impossible for Virgil to hunt. He didn't quite mind because seeing Remus was always better than the thrill of the kill.

Virgil finally relented and watched with quiet admiration as Remus celebrated over getting his number, and their relationship only moved faster after that. Pretty soon Remus was able to convince him to go on an actual date after work, grabbing breakfast at a nearby diner and hitting up his apartment afterward. Virgil had rarely spent so long away from his own home, but being out with Remus made him feel almost normal.

Media slowly stopped covering the Black Widower and Virgil smiled to himself just imagining how frustrated the police must be that they couldn't find him.

Virgil was happy, laying next to his boyfriend who loved him despite almost every eccentricity. He almost believed nothing could go wrong with Remus there.

"Uh, kit kat? I have a bit of a confession to make," Virgil winced, cursing himself for being so naive to believe that foolish sentiment.

"What’s up, dukey?" Virgil rolled to his side to face his boyfriend, "you can tell me anything."

"I don't- promise you won't get mad or like.. react badly?" Remus asked quietly, alarming Virgil even more.

He gently laid a hand on Remus’ neck and rubbed that roughened cheek with his thumb, "what's going on, Rem? You're scaring me."

Remus visibly gulped and whispered, "I know what happened to my watch. Virgil, I've always known.."

Virgil pulled back slowly. So this is what it actually felt like to be caught. His heart hammered in his throat, making a verbal reply impossible. He strained to not start crushing Remus’ throat and his own heart in his panic. This was love and this was a threat and god the way Remus looked at him right now only complicated everything else so much more.

He wasn't scared. He wasn't wriggling away from Virgil’s touch. Remus stared death in the eye unflinchingly.

He'd always figured his boyfriend must be brave or stupid, but Virgil hadn't counted on both.

"I know… what you are… and I still fell in love with you, Virgil. If you're gonna… could you at least drug me first and let me kiss you with my last breath?"

Very quickly several pieces fell into place as Virgil stared at the man who loved him despite every flaw and couldn't even beg for his own safety or life.

Remus knew what happened the night they met.

Remus had made the connections to the other murders and the subsequent drought of victims.

Remus could have turned him in- directly to the officers at the shop a half dozen times and a hundred other times when they weren’t spending time together.

Remus loved him.

Remus loved him and was scared of this confrontation.

Remus was not scared of dying.

Killing his boyfriend would be the exact link the cops would need to capture him.

Not killing his boyfriend for knowing his secret would be the largest risk imaginable.

Virgil couldn’t live without Remus

His hand was slowly choking Remus out despite his reluctance to take action.

Virgil gasped and pushed Remus away roughly, darting out of the bed and down the hall. He didn't stop until he heard Remus calling out for him.

Shit.

"Virgil!" his voice came out hoarse and painfully weak sounding. Virgil knew he should run.

But Remus was calling for him. And this was his fault.

"Virgil?" it was a question, asked in a voice that couldn't get enough air to support itself. He could leave and Remus would probably die a very painful death, all alone, with his fingers and palm emblazoned in the bruising that would provide the cause of death.

Remus loved him. He couldn't let this be the end.

Virgil flew back into the bedroom, grabbed the landline, and made the call.

"Remus, I am so sorry. Just keep breathing, baby. I am so so sorry!" Virgil apologized profusely, waiting for the emergency operator to pick up.

---

Hospital staff had to pry Virgil from Remus’ side as they moved him quickly into the O.R. Virgil paced and wondered how exactly to explain Remus’s injuries without getting arrested to distract himself from the fear that Remus would die in surgery.

He should have never let himself get so close to someone so smart and funny and perfect and… glowing. Virgil sat and waited for the doctor's verdict, pulling his hood over his eyes to block out the throngs of injured, sick, frantically glowing people around him.

Ages passed until Virgil heard his name and looked up suddenly for the source. A doctor and a police officer stood before him and all of the adrenaline in his body screamed that he needed to run.

"Uh.. how is he, doc?" Virgil asked, fighting himself to not scream or make a scene.

"Remus Crowne is currently in recovery and you may visit him. Due to the nature of his injuries, we have contacted the police to speak with him first," the doctor intoned, voice dripping with suspicion.

The officer took the pause to speak up, "would you like to make a statement, Mr. Kier?"

"I just want to see him," Virgil replied in a raspy voice, shaking his head in denial as he stood.

"Very well. This way, sir," the doctor led Virgil and the officer back towards the recovery rooms. When they arrived, Virgil nearly choked seeing Remus talking with the same two officers who came into his shop each morning. The shorter one knelt beside the bed to hold Remus’ hand. He spoke softly and asked all the questions while his partner stood tall and took notes, looking incredulously at the injured man. Virgil instinctively wanted to barge in and protect Remus from these pigs but the third held him back with a firm hand on his shoulder.

Before long the two officers left the room, eyeing Virgil disdainfully. He waited for the words that would send his world crashing around him even more than it already had.

"You- you can go in now, hon," Virgil's head tilted in confusion as the third officer let him go, "just be more careful in the future."

"I- what? No charges?" Virgil barely whispered, glancing towards the bed where Remus laid watching the tv.

"Believe me, if it had been me, I don’t care how consensual- I would have pressed charges for sending me to the E.R. have a good day, sir. Come along, Patton." The stricter-looking cop turned, gesturing to the kinder one and all three left quickly. Virgil beamed and ran to Remus’ side.

"You're welcome, kitten," Remus coughed and reached for Virgil’s hand.

"I'm so sorry- I didn't want to, Rem-"

"Shhhh. I told them it was a sex fantasy gone a bit too far. If I'd known you liked strangling dudes too-"

"Now you shush!" Virgil leaned in close, "you get better fast now, okay?"

"I always wanted to date a serial killer.. promise you won't leave me over this?" Remus grinned weakly up at Virgil, "I could help you, ya know."

"Shhhh this is just the pain meds talking. You don’t know a serial killer," Virgil laughed as tears of relief streamed down his cheeks. He gave Remus a dramatic stage wink and held his hand securely.

"Aww, you're right. I'm just stuck with a pretty boy who doesn't know his own strength," Remus grinned and watched Virgil rather than the tv until a nurse came to shoo his boyfriend away for the night.

Remus couldn't wait for their first hunt together.

[vesuvian-american-fics]

Something Entirely New Ch 14

Nothing But The Sound Of Paint Brushes

You and the crew go painting with a shy amazonian painter, named Rayna. (AO3)

Words: 1,741

“Morning sleepyhead.” Asra croons, stuffing his nose into your hair and nuzzling your neck close. You had wondered why you felt extra weight dipping into your mattress this morning, and that familiar warmth of Asra’s body embracing yours. You hum in delight, giving Asra an affectionate squeeze.

“Morning indeed. How’d you sneak in here?” You ask playfully, indulging his cuddly desires as you through your leg over his waist to pull yourself that much closer to him. A mix of tangled limbs and hushed voices raspy from a long night's rest. Mornings like this with Asra weren’t uncommon back at the shop but what’s new is the sound of clanging dishes in the kitchen, rather, not any kitchen noises made by Faust. Instead, now it’s Muriel, making a quick breakfast of eggs and tea.

“You looked so cute sound asleep I couldn’t resist sliding in next to you.” He hummed taking an exaggerated sniff of your hair, the scent of shampoo he bought for you clinging to your tussled locks. You pat his shoulders signaling to him that it was finally time to crawl out of bed and give Muriel some company.

“The food smells good as always.” You commented, pulling on some clothes for the day and padding over to the washroom to brush your teeth. Asra nodded in agreeance before you listened as he glided down the stairs. The muffled conversation between Asra and Muriel brought a smile to your face.

When you entered the kitchen Muriel was just finished setting the table and pulling out your chair, you smiled at the man before placing your hand over his in silent thanks. He blushed as he nodded to you, motioning to your chair for you to sit. Your morning together was spent the same as it always had been, eating, listening to Asra chatter about his dream the night before and getting excited about the day ahead in town.

“Today we get to paint our little vases!” You exclaimed, clapping your hands together. You loved to paint, especially on mornings you secretly kept the shop closed longer than you should have when Asra was away. What he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt you always thought, it gave you time to slow down and take a breather while running the shop alone.

Muriel offered a small smile before he cleared his throat to speak.

“You’ll have to help me again, Y/N... if you don’t mind.” He stammered out. You could tell he was working on building up his confidence with the way he spoke to you lately, it was a welcome change. The way he walks with his back straighter, he always has a small smile plastered on his lips, he keeps his eyes on yours instead of bouncing around the room to avoid you. It was like watching a flower’s petals unfurl and open up to let the sunshine in. Beautiful.

“Of course, Muriel.” You reply, smile growing just a bit wider. Asra was pouting playfully.

“Help me too, Y/N!” He said, he was already a natural when it came to paining. He was more stylistic and abstract with his work while you loved to dabble in realism. You and Asra shared a laugh before you pressed a hand to his knee.

“Yes, of course I can’t leave you out Asra~” You coo. You stood from the table, missing the way Asra deflated at the loss of your touch. Muriel silently chuckled at the drop in Asra's shoulders when you left. Muriel stood and the three of you deposited your dishes in the sink and left for town.

...

“Howdy you crazy kids!” James called from the door of his shop waving the three of you over. Asra greeted the man and you all stepped inside the pottery shop to see your vases.

“Vases lookin’ pretty darn good if I do say so myself! There’s a lot of love put into these pieces, even an amateur can see it!” James comments fondly, the crow’s feet at the corner of his eyes crinkling ever so slightly as his smile deepens. Asra grins from ear to ear, marveling at the near finished look of the vases.

“They’re perfect!” He sighs dreamily as he inspects your work. You couldn’t help but chuckle at Asra’s excitement, he was always a delightful person but this is a type of glee you haven’t seen in a while. Not unless you come home with his favorite food, blue tongued skink.

“We still have to paint them.” Muriel added, his voice was deep and flat but the faint smile on his lips was noticeable, he was happy too.

“Oh yes yes! Don’t let me hold you all day again! Go on next door and get to paintin’ these beauties! Shoo shoo!” James chortled, ushering the three of you out the front doors and right through the next shops doors. He chatted a bit with the owner before he shook your hand roughly shooting you a wink and heading out before you could even give a proper goodbye. You smiled wistfully as his short form staggered back to his own shop, the walls were thin and you could hear him greeting new customers every now and again.

The painting instructor was the polar opposite of James. A tall slender woman, long wavy strawberry blonde locks fell graciously down her back, she wore a long flowing dress that pooled at her feet with a bright shawl pulled over her shoulders, accented by a large sun hat that sat atop her head. Much like her body, her face was long and slender was well, a thin but beautifully sculpted nose right above a small mouth, large tired looking golden eyes with long blonde lashes. She was freckled, blushy, her voice was small and mousy and she stuttered quite a bit. You could tell she was awkward but it seemed her confidence lied with her work.

Her paintings were astounding, by the looks of it she could paint in just about any style or medium. Realism, abstract, paint splashes, oil paint, acrylic, water color, pastels. It was awe inspiring.

She nodded silently towards a long table set to the back of the room, offering the three of you a small smile and bow. She shuffled quickly out of the room and into what you imagined to be a tea room or kitchenette of sorts. She reappeared before you soundlessly with three steaming cups of tea.

She whispered, “I recommend acrylic paint.” She slid a box of the paint onto the table before placing three jars of water to rinse the colors, and finally fresh brushes to use. Without another word she glided across the room to sit herself in front of her large easel and continue with her own work. It was quiet, save for the sound of the morning breeze rolling through the room and rustling the lady’s plants and wind chimes. The three of you silently decided to keep quiet as well, it was comfortable and serene. Everyone at peace and creating art. Muriel would look to you for advice and you would point to whichever paint you thought would look best. He’d always nod in response, almost a bit too formal and serious for what was being discussed. He wanted his succulent to be perfect, and evidently, he imagined you were the best person to help him create that.

Asra would nudge your elbow and ask you opinion on his ideas for his vase.

“More purple? Or more gold?” He’d whisper, feline like eyes never leaving his brush as it danced along the hardened clay of his vase.

“I think there's enough purple Asra.” You’d respond trying to stifle your laughter, he’d exhale hard through his nose at your words before he got back to painting. You shook your head at him playfully before you continued your work. You admired the quality of the paints the instructor acquired, it was smooth and silky as all good paints should be. She had rare paints that she wasn’t afraid to share, due to the fact she bought all of her supplies in bulk. The rest of the morning was spent sipping tea and painting in near silence.

When the three of you finished, you noticed the painter's owlish eyes watching you over her easel. The sound of your paint brushed dripping into your water jars for the last time must has signaled to her that you were finished and ready to leave.

“Finished?” She asked in a hushed tone, eyes bouncing between the three vases. Asra's loud and bright with a mixture of lavenders and royal purple decorated with golden stars and constellations, yours was a solid color mixed with a milky white as his heavy cream had been poured directly into the paint, one that would go lovely back at the shop, it wouldn’t attract too much attention but it wasn’t bland either. Just your taste. Finally, for Muriel, he wondered if against the tans and gold of the desert would a sky-blue pot go well? You agreed and that’s what he did, not giving it much else thought. If you said it was a good idea, then it was the best idea.

“Lovely work. It’s darling.” She said, smile spreading and the apples of her cheeks tinting pink. She ushered you all to the doors and instructed for you all to let your pots dry in the window sill at home for a day and they’ll be right as rain.

“I’m sorry. I never caught your name, ma’am.” You mentioned just as you were stepping out into the early afternoon sun.

“My name? O-oh is Rayna. Have a blessed day.” She said and slipped back into her house before you could reply, you smiled before you bowed at nothing in particular and the three of you head back home to place your vases in the window.

“All the quiet made me sleepy...” Asra yawned, stretching his arms high above his head as he walked inside.

“Let’s have a lazy day in.” He whined, already heading up to his bed without another word. You chuckled at him before you heard Muriel’s stifled yawn from behind you.

“Alright, lazy day it is!” You say, dashing up the stairs to throw yourself into bed. Muriel stumbled behind you before he curled up in his own bed and the rest of your day was spent napping. A content smile remaining on your lips.

[doomstypewriter]

The submersion | Intrulogical Mermaid AU

Future intrulogical.

Follow up on this animatic. | AO3

Words: 1728.

Summary: Remus has fun in his submarine. A giant barracuda disagrees.

CW: Dark humour, skeletal remains of a rat, drowning, deep ocean (if there's anything else do tell), death, sexual innuendo.

The submersion

It was cloudy.

And cold.

But that was to be expected when one’s in the middle of the Atlantic.

“Remus Prince, you dunce, how are you dressed like that?”

Remus turned around to see Ella Da Villa, the captain of the ship he was on, and an old friend. Her short afro was stuffed inside of a beanie, she held onto her sides through her huge puffer coat.

“I know you’d just rather I take it all off, but, honey, I need to at least wear something”.

She laughed.

“What you need is to make sure you don’t get drenched or--”

“First of all, I look amazing all wet. But if that’s what you’re so worried about, hey, I took care of that” he answered pointing at his green rain boots.

The crew looked at them in amusement as they moved the equipment, preparing everything for the submersion.

Ella took off one of her gloves and smacked Remus’ head with it.

“Ow! I thought you were against violence!”

“I never said that. But I am against animal abuse, that’s why I didn’t hit you hard. Now go and put on a coat, you dumbass”.

“Sure thing mommy, you know how to be commanding” he winked.

“It’s captain for you, now go!”

His boots squeaked against the flooring of the deck as he ran to get into the guts of the ship. He managed to hear Ella swearing under her breath.

“How did he even graduate? Going out in short sleeves…”

Ella was a funny one, Remus thought. It was easy to get under her skin, she also liked to play along which made it even better.

One of the people going up the metal stairs almost tripped against him, there wasn’t that much room, after all. Remus jumped over the railing and fell onto the lower level without a scratch.

“Oh my god! Are you okay?!” said someone.

A younger guy with spectacular hair held onto his forearm to check on him. Oh, this was the newbie.

“Don’t worry, I don’t have any lungs”.

“Wha…” he looked half perplexed and half horrified.

“You know, we all get it done since we’re going to end up sleeping with the fish anyway”.

He stood up quickly and mutely apologised. Remus enjoyed the view of his ass going upstairs as fast as possible. New meat was always hilarious.

When he entered the room his cupboard was already open. He liked to leave the sliding doors that way so he could see what was inside, otherwise, he’d forget about it. In a ship, that meant ending up with all of one’s clothes on the floor, but as long as Remus could see where they were he wouldn’t misplace anything. Object permanence was a bitch.

Messy floors did have an advantage, the coat on top of the pile was good enough to satisfy Ella and easy enough to grab quickly.

The backswing of the glove against his shoulder caught him off-guard.

“Ow! What did I do now?! This coat is fine!”

“The coat is fine, yes, but the new guy is shaking like a leaf. What did you tell him? He keeps saying stuff about drowning”.

“Hey, I’d never mention drowning when I’m about to get into a submarine”.

“Yes, that’d be very poor taste, sadly, you have it worse so you must have said something terrible. I expect you to fix this, or we’ll have to arrange you drowning”.

“You know I love choking on wet things”.

“Then your last moments will be pleasant. Consider me the best friend one could have”.

The new guy was holding onto the railing of the ship, staring at the water in concentration. Probably about to throw up or something.

“Hey!”

“Ah!” he screamed.

“Do you have a name?”

“Uh… yes… um…”

“Great! I have one too, it’s Remus” he introduced himself with half a bow.

“I’m Nathan… sorry… I’m just anxious… it’s the first time I go on one of those” he gestured at the submersible held by the crane of the ship.

“First times are always awkward, don’t worry”.

Finally, Nathan let out a laugh, it was a nervous one but it would suffice.

“You know what I said earlier was a joke, right?”

“Oh, yeah, it just caught me by surprise. You’re the head biologist here, right?”

“Yup. Guess you could say I’m the dom of this study”.

“Darn it, here I was expecting to be more active”.

Remus smiled in surprise. It was always nice when people had similar humour to his.

“Oh, you’ll have to be. I expect it”.

“You wouldn’t expect we could go for some coffee after we get into…” the date proposition vanished into a look of fear at the submersible.

Remus put a hand over his shoulders. The drowning jokes would have to wait until they were emerging.

“Don’t worry, my thicc ass has been there tons of times! It’s just a lot of water”.

“While it’s true he’s been there more than you, he’s overplaying his own ass. It’s kind of droopy” a heavily accented voice said

“Who are you calling droopy?”

They turned to see a tall blond woman smiling smugly. Erika Engström, oceanographer and the operator of the submersible.

“You, obviously, do you have water in your ears?”

“Not yet, but we’ll see if…”

Nathan held his breath.

“Nah, I don’t”.

“He either thinks you’re cute or he’s afraid the captain will throw him off-board if he keeps bullying you”, Erika told Nathan.

“I wasn’t bullying anyone”.

“Sorry to break it to you, but you’re always bullying people, you don’t know how else to flirt”.

“Then I would be flirting with everyone”.

“Aren’t you?”

“Okay, yeah”.

“Come on, I have to set up things. Give me a hand, rat skull”.

“At least give me a knife or something”.

“You can chew it through”.

One last look at Nathan before following her.

“Well, I’ll leave you to stress out, if I don’t help her we’ll dro…” oh right, no drowning jokes. “We’ll…”

“Flirt with me when we’re back at the surface”.

Remus smiled.

“Will do!”

-----

The light was beginning to fade out. The flickering of the few rays coming through a swirl of silvery fish would be their last glimpses at natural lighting for a while.

It was wonderful.

How the underwater landscape changed, morphing into something out of a nightmare. Never ceases to amaze him. People would say it was all just blue getting darker and darker, and it was! But it was also a thick fog from which anything could come out. He always looked forward to seeing the weirdest fish appear.

There wasn’t much room behind the giant acrylic viewport. Despite being stuck so closely together, Remus could feel a chill as the air within got cooled by the deep water. His coat lay forgotten at the back of his chair still.

Once the lights of the submersible switched on, a delicate dance of white dust shined just like it would on a sunny day. This was no room dust. But there was just as much beauty in seeing the marine snow surrounding them. Teensy tiny pieces of dead fish falling all around, making the nicest shapes.

“It’s so quiet” Nathan observed.

“Wait until you hear a whale. The first time I did I thought my skull would pop”.

“Which one?” Erika kept her eyes on the water, but he could see the reflection of a smile curving onto the surface of the acrylic.

“Well, the small one. I know you’d hate to have to scrape my brains off your console”.

“If you had any I would”.

“There would still be plenty of blood”.

The ship carried on with the descend, soon, they’d be at twenty thousand feet. Nathan leaned in.

“Hey, what did she mean by which one?” he said in a hushed voice.

“Oh! Right”

He pulled on the string of his necklace to get it from under his shirt. Remus held it in front of Nathan’s face.

It turned, revealing the empty sockets and the front of what used to be a snout.

“I have this rat skull as a necklace! Erika teases me because that’s how she copes with the fact that she hates it!”

“Anyone would hate it. You wear that thing everywhere. It’s creepy” Erika pointed out.

“Where did you get it?” Nathan asked.

In the dim light, Remus’s smile cast shadows, giving him a grim vibe.

“I used to have a pet rat. When it died it sucked, my brother and I buried it in the backyard. It was there until three years later when we got a heavy storm. The bones peeked through the mud. So I just yanked a bit on the spine and got it. The skull was already defleshed anyway, so, aside from cleaning it a bit, I didn’t have to do any of the work. I really like this necklace. I got into marine biology because I began looking at fish skulls and I wanted to see more”.

“That’s…” Nathan began to say.

Suddenly, the submersible turned violently.

“What was that?”

“I don’t know, I couldn’t take a good look”, said Erika.

Her frown told Remus something was seriously wrong.

“Guys, we’re picking up really weird signals from here. Are you all okay?” the sound of Ella’s voice through the radio distracted him from his train of thought.

“It’s all under control, but I am going to begin ascending” Erika replied.

“We haven’t taken all the samples”, Nathan said.

“We’ll have another chance. Right now I’m worried that---”

Erika did not have time to finish talking.

Its needle-like teeth loomed over the viewport. This creature was unlike anything he’d ever seen. Part of him felt excited at how terrifying it all was. Sadly, he had the feeling they were all about to die. This fish looked like a giant barracuda and an angry one.

The creature snapped its jaw closed, cracking the viewport.

Seemingly, it didn’t find it tasty enough and it swam away even moodier than before. The very least it could have done was eat them.

If you’re going to kill them might as well finish the job.

Remus’ body floated into the dark abyss as he struggled to breathe. Covering his ears tightly, he screamed in pain. The pressure was unlike anything.

Well, it had been fun.

<< Previous | Next >>

The continuation will feature Logan and another animatic!

Taglist: @lemonyscented , @emsiemaefander , @sunflower-avo-tea , @nadiestar , @amber-da-toon , @gabseliblack , @everythingisstardust

@trash-bastard , @under-the-blue-moonlight , @willowaudreykeyes

@queerly-a-hisssstory-momster​

@theyluna-womoon , @subterfugespecialist

[idjitlili]

I can be the God of your Orgasm.

Loki x reader

(Not my image)

Summary:Some how ending up in Sakaar ,Valkyrie ends up taking you under her wing,no not her horse Aragorn,for a year ,until some Gods show up.

Word count:1768

Warnings:Language

A/n: Couldn’t end it , last time I touched this was October. Uhm, there’s a picture of Bowie, probably TMI here, but he was the first man , I ever you know over.Double aswell. I’m sorry.

You just a young woman in y/c ,heading to college your average routine ,but you never made it. Instead you had tripped over into a puddle ,but yet again you were decieved ,it was a portal. You hadn't/only left your country ,let alone been on another planet. You didn't think that was even possible;magic nor to be able to breathe on an different planet,well that was what you were told by the government. No you weren't a flat earther,thats bloody stupid. However you felt like the government hid a lot.

Michael Jacksons death,Heath Ledgers death,River Phoenix's death, Princess Diana's death , David Bowie, Obi-wan,it just seemed a little suspicous, not saying it was definitely them covering up the murders but...

Anyways so you fell into the puddle into a some rubbish ,literal rubbish. You had no idea what happened ,when Valkyrie found you she didn't either. God damn Benedict cumpatch stay in america with your fake american accent. Just stay away ,don't really want to be assassainated for being best buds with Sherlock Holmes and Dildo Gaggins.

Valkyrie had felt bad for such a young mortal being in an strange planet,she couldn't bare to bring you to Grandmaster ,to be apart of his orgies. he was indeed a tough warrior much like Dwalin the dwarf from the hobbit,who funfact is the longest living dwarf living up to 300 years,yes irrelvent.

Thus, you lived with her ,you managed to get a part time job as a cook,just so you didn't feel so bad about living with Valkyrie rent free. When I say part time cook ,I mean you just cooked for you and her,you didn't trust this planet. It was lucky when you fell in that puddle the stuff in your backpack didn't get wet,so you had some books to read,and such.

To be far being away from home stuck on an alien planet really did get boring ,you'd hate to admit it but sometimes you had to go to visit Hulk,because he was sorta normal. No he was not but he was okay ,like a destructive toddler but it was better than being alone. Other than that you really missed home ,you missed tv,you missed ice cream.

Pretty much everyday was boring. Well after almost a year of being here ,Valkyrie had brought a guest to your shared apartment thing. The God you had seen on the television a couple years ago. You had been sitting on the sofa reading at the time ,you jumped so hard when the door slammed open,you had looked up to see valkyrie shoving down a dark haired man in chains.

"Uhhh, are you allowed to kidnap people here?" you had questioned ,causing Valkyrie and the guy turn to you ,you had recognised him after a moment of trying to pin point his face. "I don't think that will hold him...h-he's-"

"Just stay away from him ,don't talk to him,don't look at him,hell don't even think about him,I will be back with Thor ,and then we can get you home, Y/n. So pack your things ." Soon as she had mentioned going home you had already started gathering your things,as Valkyrie had left after the God of Thunder. No you didn't go to the big battle compitions and Valkyrie certainly did not tell you she had found Thor ,but it didn't matter you were going home.

It didn't take you long to pack soon,you had your shoes on and everything sitting on the sofa ,twiddling your thumbs,feeling Loki's gaze on you. What's up with in love stories men staring , oh shut up you are just jealous because you can't even get a boyfriend ,stupid scribe.

"she said not to think about you...can you read minds?" you had questioned ,just really because that gaze he had on you made you feel proper ugly ,in which you were not. He had scoffed at you.

"I'm not a witch."

"I never said you were,you are a God ,must be better than having a hammer, it's like a normal hammer with steriods."

"Ah..so you have heard of me," He had smirked to himself ,you had just looked back at you hands before reaching for your bag grabbing your journal and ink,before just scribbing doodles on a clean page.Loki didn't speak after that not until you did again ten minutes later ,probably less time goes slow when the mood is a drag.

"the thing with new York, that was because of Thanos? People have controlled me by making me feel guilty so many times..OH manipulation ,you probably don't want to hear what I have to say,but I can't help it ,i've been stuck here a year the only person I got to speak to is drunk Valkyrie and hulk in which I feel like I am talking to a child. You know what I really wish I was watching Lord of the rings right-"

"You are from earth,how did you end up here?" He had grinned at you,cutting you off,isn't he like a mass murderer? Well he was tricked into doing it ,so more like accidental murderer ,why is he so handsome. Don't be stupid he is a God of course he is handsome.

"Uh..I fell into a puddle then I was here." The God had turned his head away to the floor ,scrunching his eyebrows together in confusion.

"I don't see how that's possible."

"Well it happene-" Yet you were cut off again,as the door slammed open,you quickly turned away back to your notebook,Thor ,Bruce and Valkyrie stood at the door.

You missed what happened first ,Loki having things thrown at him ,and such,you only looked up when he said something about spaceships,seeing Bruce. Your eyes glittered with excitement , Thor saw this. "Oh my! I can't believe it's-2 Thor had shook his head for you not say it. "Radiation scientist,Bruce Banner, damn,now I must say this is much more exciting than a hammer,which you don't have what's up with that? Hey Bruce how you feeling?Green? Darn, imagine being strongest Avenger!"

Thor had scoffed at you,"Does she always talk this much?"Bruce had made his way over to you smiling at you as you stood up. "It is so cool to meet you mister Banner."

"Thank you miss..." "Y/n" He had smiled at you again before turning to Thor ,"see strongest Avenger,yep that's me."

"well then ,let' hope we can get home,just first we are to go to Asgard."

***

"Valkyrie ,I'm going to stay with Dwayne Johnson,I have no fighting skills so it's better if come I after," you had gestured to Korg.

"Alright then, I'll see you if I don't die" And with that she left you with the aliens,smiling up to them.

"The revolution has begun."

***

"Hey, what's this?"

"Thank you." You had stood next to Korg as he had powered down the taser device on Loki's body,you had stood rocking on your balls of your feet in excitement to get home.

"Hey,man. We're about to jump on that ginormous spaceship. You wanna come?" Loki had jumped up,his hair a messy ,from the intense pain he had just suffered,from betraying his brother yet again.

"well you do seem like you're in desperate need of leadership." The smirk was interweaved into his voice, smooth as his greasy hair.

"Why, thank you."

"Hurry up! It has been too long since I've seen the dance seen in the james franco spiderman three!" You rushed forwards grabbing a hold of the mischief makers arm dragging him towards the ship. "Talkative and touchy," Loki just allowed you to drag him,with him supposively being evil,grinning.

***

"uhhh, what's the chances of as all dying horribly? Do you think if i pretend to be dead she wouldn't notice?" Loki was driving the space ship,whilst you sat in the seat next to him,all the alien people sat or stood behind. You really be riding shotgun on a spaceship,it was you or korg.

Loki did not answer you , yet just slightly smiled glancing to you briefly, not a good sign, you'd think with two Gods you'd be fine ,but clearly not. "Hey do you think if Thor had to fight I don't know- AHH" You weren't sure who you meant to say as you face planted into the spaceship's floor,as Loki's flying had stopped so suddenly causing a jolt. You had laughed to your lesson quietly,patheticly in honesty ,covering up how embarrassing that was.

You felt as if you were Mantis ,when Drax had informed her to watch out after she got hit in the face.  All you could think was there's like a bunch of aliens on this ship and it's guaranteed at least 3 have just seen you face plant.  "Okay , that makes me wish that I was on Thors spaceship right now." Your hair in your face, forearms pressed against the cold metal floor.

"What does he have that I don't?" His voice seeped with sarcasm, okay maybe not he was probably just annoyed that a midgardian was aboard and could not shut up.

"He probably can fly this thing better, well it's probably Bruce but that's even better , do you even know how many PHDs he has?"

"Honestly I do not know and do not care."

"Wow that's not very nice . He has..wait I dont -" The smirk on Loki's face was stamped deep, as he pulled you out of your concentration by doing so. "Shut up I bet you say to all your lovers, ‘If you givee a chance I can be the god of your orgasm’” Honestly you don’t know what made you think of that , something tells you it’s to do with a dude that reads a lot of smut named Blake. Actually the author doesn’t know if he does but..

“Thank you darling, for the new material.”

[mintyfrosty]

A Prince’s Guide To Reading

"Right?"

Ah, his name.

At least the one he preferred people to use for him.

The guard of the Toppat prince turned his gaze up from the door he had his eyes pinned on, studying the engravings of the wood to try and pass the time. He had to admit, being the prince's guard could be dull, since said prince seemed to take much gratitude in working within a quiet environment. Right didn't mind, of course. Then again, the commoner didn't exactly have a choice either way with what he thought or not. As if he had a choice. He didn't; that was the truth. It had been like that for the month he had found himself being the prince's care. Er, at least he thought it had been a month? Time was a bit weird in the castle. Every day seemed the same.

That wasn't to say he found it unpleasant, however.

Their eyes connected, the guard's gaze quickly descending straight after, since it was discourteous for a royal and a commoner to share a glimpse of their eyes. Well, he wasn't sure on that, but Prince Reginald had acquainted him of such. And he trusted him; a terrifying amount. And Right didn't want to get a stern talking from the king about this, that and something else. Despite clearing his throat before he spoke, Right's voice came up as hoarse and uneven like it always did. "Yes, yer 'ighness?"

Allowing his hand to rest, the royal put the quill in his hand down to table, slightly rubbing it as the chains of writing broke free. Putting his hand through so much work was unhealthy to his muscles and bones. However, much like the commoner, the prince didn't have a choice. Not since 20 years ago when the Toppat Kingdom fell under Terrence's rule. Not the time to think about, he scolded himself, bringing both of his hands down to his lap. He could at least say, however, it was flattering on how the guard put so much effort into trying to learn the mannerism that seemed impossible to understand.

"I wanted to ask you..." Started the prince, bringing himself to standing and tucking his chair into the table that sat peacefully in the halls of the library. "Do you-- know how to read and write?"

...

That came off as slightly insulting. But, unfortunately, forgivable to ask.

Crimson rose to the peasant's ears, gaze crunching as he examined the tile grooving on the floor, trying to, pathetically, hide his embarrassment. The prince was entitled to ask such a question; he was the prince for God's sake. It wasn't uncommon for a commoner such as himself to be illiterate. Many didn't have the money to claim the opportunity to educate themselves. It wouldn't be embarrassing if he said 'no', would it? Because, well, he just didn't.

He was a peasant.

A filthy one at that.

"Nah-- I mean-- No. No, I don't." Forced words of respect came out of the guard, slightly gritting his teeth with frustration as he let his accent slip his words into slang. Ugh. He hated trying to keep up with these stupid mannerisms. It was all so confusing. How the hell was he supposed to remember how to use three forks at a dinner table, wait to speak until spoken to AND not let himself slip into his comfortable language of slang? And that wasn't even the full list. "Er-- w'y do ya ask?"

"Well..." Without finishing the answer, the prince's feet waltzed over to one of the hundred books that decorated the library walls. Gloved hands met the cover a soft covered book; a light read. From where he was standing, Reginald waved an inviting hand towards the guard, taking a seat on the couch that was adjacent to the fireplace which crackled calmly. Swallowing the anxiety lodged in his throat, Right's brash footsteps pounded towards the prince, boots sounded like a wrecking ball hitting concrete. Maybe that was due to his mass. He didn't have a mind to care. With the guard now near him, the royal patted the seat lightly next to him, a smile meeting his face. "...if you can't, I'd like to teach you how to read!"

...

Wh-What?

The crimson turned a shade of magenta, spreading like a virus across his cheek and nose. Teach him? Teach him how to read? But why? Didn't the prince already have his hands full? His gaze fell over to the task assigned to Reginald, surprised to see a perfectly piled stack of scrolls. Was he finished? Wow, that was fast then. Incredibly fast. Eventually, however, the guard let his gaze fall back to the prince, eyes focused on the book in his hands rather than the blue sapphires that dotted his pupils. Awkwardly, he cleared his throat, pulling on his collar to let more airflow through his clothing.

In all fairness, he didn't believe he deserved such a privilege.

Being literate was seen as such an honour; only the noblemen and royalty got the joy of being able to read and write. And that same offer to him? Definitely out of the question. He, well, he didn't believe he was worthy of such a gift. However, he most certainly didn't want to make the prince upset over the matter; maybe he could blame it on something. Something like: "Er-- I...Would we 'ave the time? With supper happening soon?"

"Oh, nonsense! We've got a few hours! Two! That's enough, I'm sure of it! You're a quick learner, you know!" It only occurred to Reginald that there was a big difference between the prince wanting to teach him how to read and Right actually wanting to learn how to perform such an act. A quick sound of hesitation came from the prince, excitement in his tone dying as his shoulders fell to his sides. "Of course...only if you'd allow me."

Oh, God. He couldn't refuse now.

Because yes, despite reading being hard to master, Right couldn't be more excited about the offer, yet nothing on his face implied so. Lost on the prince's words, the guard nodded with certainty, holding his hands up and shaking them slightly. "Na- No-- I'd be t' rilled ta learn, ya majesty--"

Dammit, he was committed to it now. No going back. Just be on high alert.

Although the guard took a hesitant seat on his side, the prince couldn't be more excited, a large grin dotted his face gently. Reginald opened the book to the first page, their shoulders touching as he held the left side of the cover, gesturing for Right to take the opposing side. Trapped by anxiety, the guard's breath wouldn't come out of his throat, numbly grabbed ahold with his right hand to open the book. Foreign symbols came into his vision when it was a simple text of English. Jesus, how was going to learn this? He didn't understand any of it. He couldn't learn how to read-- this was dumb-- this was stupid. "Alright...let's start at the beginning..."

Gently, the prince's voice hit his ears, voice brimming with excitement.

...Sigh.

Guess he didn't have a choice.

But, at least, this was better than staring at the door engravement all damn day, waiting for something that would never happen.

The story Reginald had picked out was something about a girl from a village. An oddball herself; she knew how to read. How ironic. Then one day her father got kidnapped at an old castle that belonged to a cursed prince that had turned into a beast. And to save her father's life, traded herself to be the beast's prisoner. But, interestingly, the two fell in love and the curse on the prince was broken.

Huh.

What an odd tale. Granted, probably one of the first that Right had ever heard of but...still so odd.

The prince went slow with the words from the text, running his finger under words and pronouncing them slowly, teaching him what letters made what sounds. Vowels were undoubtedly the hardest; some words could have two of the same vowel yet make different sounds. Of course, he'd been speaking the language his whole life but...now it was different. He could physically see how goddamn confusing the English language was. By the time they got to Chapter 3, an hour had passed, the prince looking up to the guard brightly. "Alright, your turn!"

Right blinked.

...

"...you know...your turn to read!"

...

H-Huh? "Eh?" He couldn't. "I can't--"

"Of course, you can!" Cheered Reginald, the prince moving his gloved hand to underneath the first word, written beautifully in ink. Calligraphy made it hard to discern which letter was which. Gaining his breath back from swallowing the anxiety lodged in his throat, the guard gritting his teeth, a crimson colour rising to his ears slightly out of embarrassment.

"Er-- I still don't get a lot of it--"

"That's okay! I'll help you along the way! It'll be fine, just watch!" No matter how much he tried to stop himself, he couldn't help that redness from his ears spreading to his face in a blush. Dammit. The prince's excitement was contagious; spreading and capturing his heart like some sort of plague. It made him want to try and complete this mission he was destined to fail at. He'd been learning to read for no less than an hour, and now he was going to read on his own? Seemed impossible. But that darn smile was enough to make him want to. Want to try. Want to learn.

Okay. He could try.

Hopefully.

"Er-- alright--"

It was slow.  Painfully slow.

The commoner needed more help from the prince than he could read words on his own. Nevertheless, successful. Very slow, but steady, gently drifting his voice across the paper to bring meaning to the written dialogue. Even if he made mistakes and made a fool of himself, he was still having fun. The prince was encouraging, giving him compliments and words of pride at when he could read a full sentence on his own. It was...touching, dramatically so. Crimson on his face turned to a soft, pastel magenta, taking comfort in the royal's presence instead of being on edge. Yes, it was technically not allowed for the two to be so close, despite having their shoulders touching, but the commoner didn't care.

The king and noblemen of the kingdom were still ignorant of the idea that Right had met the prince before the assassin outbreak. Heh; funny that the commoner was just coming for a visit but ended up being roped to be his guard. All because he saved the royal's life in an alleyway.

How curious...

However, it led to one problem; his guard was down. He got too complacent.

Find their shoulders sitting side by side was getting a little too uncomfortable, the commoner raised his, moving closer, then wrapping it around the prince's shoulders. There. Nice and comfy. If the feeling of the royal's muscles tense up hadn't occurred, he would've stayed there and continued. But, of course, life wasn't kind to anyone. Dread settled in his heart, abruptly stopping mid-sentence and pushing himself away and standing. Why did he do that? WHY did he do that!? WHYDIDHEDOTHAT?!

"I-I'm so sorry-- I don't know wot came o'er me!" Stamped the commoner, raising his hands and shaking them as if it were some kind of defence. God-- the king would have his head for this. What was he thinking!? Just, ya know, causally wrap your filthy, peasant arm around the shoulders of the prince of the Toppat Kingdom! No stress! Not one ounce of it! Dammit- Dammit- DAMMIT--

"I-t won't 'appen again-- I was just-- I-- I just--"

"Woah-- Woah! Hey, it's okay, Right!" Exclaimed the prince, quickly rising out of his seat and taking a firm grasp of his hand. Right, still scrambling to find something to say, looked down at their hands, caramel eyes finally connecting with the azure blue pupils that belonged to the prince's eyes. They were holding hands--

This was wrong. Everything about this was wrong.

A commoner shouldn't have been that close to a prince; let alone even within one meter of him. But to wrap his ARMS around his shoulder!? What was he thinking!? What was he doing?!

Shakily, he exhaled, not making any movement to return the grasp to his hand.

"Jesus-- I'm sorry I-- I just--" Stuck on his sentence, the guard brought his free hand to his face to try and conceal the growing magenta colour that lingered there.

"Just-- this 'ole thin' 'f not knowin' ya. And 'avin' to act like I ain't got a clue who you are or 'o you are aside from all the duties ya got stacked up--- it's kind of-- it's so frustratin'. 'Cause, yer know, ya funny and ya kind-- and ya got this presence about ya. And 've gotta act all manners and other bullshit-- I can't even just sit by ya witho't worryin' that 'm gonna get my head chopped off or you worryin' about 'dis stupid code-- JUST--" The commoner let out a grunt, bringing the hand on his face to his hair, tugging it slightly.

"It-It's just-- I wanna han' out wit' ya-- but-- we just can't. And it drives me bonkers."

A deadly silence filled the room as the commoner let weeks worth of venting material, catching the prince by an immense surprise. Of course, a faint colour of rose pink painted over his cheeks at the brief compliments, but nothing could stop or control the sudden frown forming on his face. In a way, the prince was dreading this. The lack of personal freedom for the guard was probably doing his head in, and the fact that he and the commoner knew each other beforehand probably made the situation much much worse for him. Even if Reginald had nothing to do with it (even though he had everything to do with it), he couldn't help but feel pity. He hadn't had freedom his whole life and, whilst he'd grown used to it, it was terrible in the beginning. Difficult, in other words.

Sympathetically, Reginald raised his free hand toward Right's that clutched against his hair, pulling it down from his face.

"Right...I'm okay-- I should be sorry I'm--" The prince let out a muffled sigh. "Y-Yes...I understand. This whole matter is aggravating. And I do want to spend time with you too! Believe me, I do. Heh, kind of why I asked to teach you to read. It's just-- I'm sorry I...I'm not used to this whole...' being close to someone' thing if you get what I mean? I've never met a commoner before you. And even then, there's all these rules and orders. And yet, you seem so nice and friendly compared to what I've been told what commoners are like. What I'm trying to say is...I'm sorry for my reaction with your arm-- I'm just-- following what I've been told to do."

...

An apology?

Jesus--

Reginald had to be the pure heartiest prince he had ever met if HE was apologising for a reaction that Right caused. In a way, it made his blood completely fire, bringing a low scowl to his face. It made the whole situation worse when you considered how the prince was treated by the king. Like garbage, that's what. And even then, Reginald put himself second to Right, considering his comfort to be more important than his own. Dammit-- that colour was rising back to his face, stifling a cough that rose to his throat.

The guard let out some sort of chuckle. "Heh-- we're both tryna follow rules 'ere-- Ehehe--"

Right didn't laugh a lot, but when Reginald heard it, it filled his heart up. A small smile itself met his lips, sharing his laughter. And only for an impossibly short amount of time, the prince's eyes shot purple, but far too quick for anyone to take note of it. They were both kind of messes; wanting to talk and laugh and NOT do something royalty related. The prince held up a hand. "Okay-- Okay. How about this. If I finish tomorrow and we have enough spare time, do you...want to spend that time finishing this book with me? To 'hang out', as you called it. We'll go out to the gardens; where no one can find us."

...

A smile met the guard's lips, putting a hand to his chest and bowing slightly.

"It would be ma greatest 'onour, my prince." ~~~XxX~~~ MEDIEVAL AU FLUFF BOYSSS!!

Thank you so much for reading this fanfic!!

For those wondering, this takes place in the transitional period between Right’s arrival and Galeforce’s arrival x3 

Also, yes I know that Beauty and The Beast didn’t exist yet but shh its cute

Oki have doodle!