#also i need to bring some other pets over once we get more pet slots cause i have some children on a side that belong on my main<3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[zippyzafaras]

literally? just saying? my children

[five-rivers]

Loved 8

Danny found himself without human senses or even a rough analogue of a human body. Even so, he still had an understanding of his surroundings, alien senses leaving impressions on his mind.

His body was soft, boneless, rounded, unformed. He was intimately connected to, part of, and entirely surrounded by an infinitely greater being, whom he was dependent on. He was known, all of him, by this being.

If he’d had eyes to cry with, he would have, knowing that he would never be able to know this being as he himself was known.

Amusement and affection – or, at least, things that were like them – pressed into him as the being contracted around him. An object was inserted into the single orifice he currently possessed.

Slowly, Danny became aware of an intense… discomfort in that area. He couldn’t call it pain. He currently had no sense of pain. But he could feel it and he didn’t like it and it was growing—

He woke up, tangled in blankets, skin slick with sweat, head and teeth aching.

Except, he didn’t. He was in the Dream. But if he were in the Dream, what had that been?

Already, many of the details were slipping through his fingers. He could no longer recapture what he had felt, although the general events were still somewhat clear.

He… had sleeping here somehow peeled back the layers of metaphor through which he experienced the Dream? Or had that just been a different metaphor, no truer than this one?

He sat up – or, rather, he tried to. An unexpected weight around neck stalled him. Overnight, the chain of Clockwork’s Love for him (and his Love for Clockwork in return) had more than doubled in size. It had also been reinforced by thick, colorful, silk ropes wound in and out of the links as well as other, smaller, chains.

There were also two of them, now, leading in opposite directions. As if Clockwork’s Love was simply too great to be confined to a single representation.

More carefully this time, Danny sat up. At least the collar, despite being far, far heavier, was no longer configured like a neck brace. Danny could turn his head to look at things.

The dog, evidently sensing an opportunity, deposited itself in Danny’s lap. Danny, not knowing what else to do, started petting it, running fingers through shadowy fur. He had always wanted a dog. Although, he didn’t remember telling Clockwork that…

“Maybe I should name you,” said Danny. He wasn’t sure how he felt about naming a personification of his hate, but he wasn’t sure if that’s what the dog was, or if the dog was just a container for his hate. It was confusing. “How about Cujo?”

The dog wagged its tail agreeably.

“Cujo it is, then.” He sighed and looked around the room. It didn’t have a door or any other visible opening. Honestly, in comparison to everything else he’d experienced in the Dream, that was pretty pedestrian. He supposed he’d just have to wait until Clockwork came back.

Maybe he could take a look at some of those interesting objects along the wall in the meantime? Something in his mind whispered that they were his and they were toys. They could take his mind off the pain building in his jaw and temples.

He stood up and walked almost all the way to the edge of the depression in the floor before being brought up short. He stumbled and sat down abruptly. What-?

The end of the chain was buried in the floor at the center of the depression.

Oh. Well. This whole room was part of Clockwork, too, so Danny really shouldn’t be surprised. It wasn’t like the chain hadn’t acted like a chain before.

Still.

Being forcibly trapped in, well, a crib was infantilizing. Not that everything else about all of this wasn’t. This just seemed like a step further.

The collar hummed lightly against Danny’s throat, eliciting a croon as he reflexively attempted to harmonize. The act settled him somewhat, and he gazed blankly at the runes surrounding the depression. The drop between the depression and the rest of the floor was too high for him to get over by himself anyway… no, that wasn’t right… couldn’t be… he couldn’t see the runes if that was the case, he’d be too short… but the lip there was definitely too tall, he knew it…

He tore his eyes away, squeezing them shut against his suddenly raging headache. The dog, Cujo, padded over to him and sniffed him gently. Danny whined, trying not to cry.

It looks like your horns might be growing in as well, said Clockwork’s avatar, running a hand through Danny’s hair. Poor baby. Teeth and horns all at once. That must hurt.

“Horns? Like Nocturne?”

Yes. They will help you navigate the other layers of the Dream once they are fully grown. With practice.

Danny let Clockwork’s avatar lift his head, resting his chin in its palm. “Layers of the Dream?”

You did not think the Dream was as simple in structure as that place you call reality, did you, little Love? This place you have become familiar with is only the closest layer to that place, no matter how deep you go.

“But—” said Danny, trying to work out how that could be. The answer slotted itself neatly into Danny’s mind. “It’s… like a tesseract?”

More than that, but essentially, yes. The avatar was gathering blankets around Danny again, swaddling him. Danny squeaked and tried to twist away, but the avatar easily anticipated him, and the fight quickly went out of him.

Danny was carried from the room and brought to a long table covered in bowls. The bowls contained pastel orbs of various sizes and colors. A single piece of furniture shaped like a basket woven of silver strips sat next to it. Clockwork’s avatar set him down gently on this piece of furniture and several of the strips peeled off to wrap securely around Danny.

Time for breakfast, said the avatar, happily.

Mentally and emotionally, it was easier to eat the orbs than the obviously alive things of his previous meal. Physically…

Danny asked why the orbs were so tough and difficult to chew. The avatar murmured something about practicing using his teeth. Danny wasn’t exactly in a position to refuse, so he was filled to satiation and beyond, until every piece of food on the table had been eaten.

By the time Clockwork’s avatar lifted him again, he felt exhausted and disgusting.

“Can I go home now?” he asked.

You are home.

“You know what I mean.”

It would be remiss of me to let you go when you are still in so much pain. Besides, sleep is necessary for children such as yourself to properly digest food.

“Don’t want to sleep,” said Danny, alarmed. He didn’t want to go back to the place he was before, where he could not see, hear, smell, taste, or touch.

That is not the only place you may go, said the avatar. In fact, it is rather unlikely for you to return there unless you do so on purpose. It touched the place where one of Danny’s horns would eventually bud. It was tender and Danny whined. Which is not something you can yet do. It paused. Perhaps I could guide you to a… cozy layer. One you might find educational. Would you like that?

“I wanna go home. I feel icky.”

I will set up a bath for you when you wake up.

Danny moaned and tried to tuck his face into the avatar’s shoulder. “Don’t want a bath.”

You do need one eventually.

“Don’t wanna.”

The avatar lowered Danny back into the nest of blankets.

Sleep well.

Danny woke up. This time in an actual crib. A mobile with star shapes hung overhead. He reached up with a chubby baby hand. A medical bracelet jingled around his wrist.

With some difficulty, his hands lacking dexterity, he turned the bracelet over. The writing there was incomprehensible and made him slightly dizzy. He huffed and rolled over before pushing himself up onto hands and knees.

The room he was in was dark, and far more defined than he was used to in the Dream. He could see picture frames on the walls and clocks. Every wall had at least one clock.

He grabbed the top of the crib railing and pulled himself up into a standing position. The rest of the room looked normal. Lived in.

The door opened, letting light in. A figure walked through the doorway and picked Danny up.

“You’re awake already! Ready for the day?”

“Clockwork?” squeaked Danny.

“Hmm, yes. But there’s something else you can call me here, hm?” The figure shifted, light falling on a feminine face and long hair.

“Mama?” tried Danny.

“There we go,” she said.

“Where are we?” asked Danny, lisping his words slightly. He wasn’t sure he had teeth right now. He put his hand in his mouth, feeling his gums. “’s different here.”

“Yes,” said Clockwork, walking out into a hallway. It was bright. There were clocks here, too, evenly spaced on the walls. Danny hid his face. “Oopsie daisy. Too bright, baby?”

“Mhm,” said Danny.

Clockwork balanced Danny on her hip and fiddled with a dimmer switch. The lights dimmed to a more comfortable level. “I’m sorry, baby. I keep forgetting about your eyes.”

“What about my eyes?”

“You’re photosensitive. That’s what the bracelet is for. You need low light.”

“Mama?”

“Hm?”

“What is this place?”

“Ah,” said Clockwork, putting him in a highchair. “A world within the Dream. Once,” she punctuated the word by clipping Danny into the seat, “it was much like the place you were first born. But we came to understand it completely and everything that thought or dreamed opened themselves to us. We engulfed it, brought it here. Now everyone is happy.”

Clockwork put a sippy cup on the little table on the highchair and then several pieces of cereal. Danny didn’t recognize the brand.

“Do I have to?”

“You need energy for today,” said Clockwork.

“But I just ate so much.”

“Not here. Come on, sweetheart. It’s just a little bit.” Clockwork sat down in one of the chairs at the dinning room table, brushing her hair over her shoulder. She smiled. “Isn’t this nice?”

Danny shrugged.

“I know you don’t care for the other part of the Dream, that you find it frightening, so… If you like this place, you can stay here. It’s just like the other place. The one you like. Would you like that?”

“My friends are there.”

“I can bring them here. It’ll be difficult, but very possible.”

Danny shook his head. Clockwork sighed.

“Well. Let’s just see how this day goes before you decide. Maybe you’ll like being here so much you’ll never want to leave at all. Give it a chance. Just for one day, okay?”

“Okay,” mumbled Danny.

“And that means eating your breakfast.” She ruffled Danny’s hair. “Okie-dokie?”

“’Kay.”

Clockwork smiled, eyes crinkling. “We’re going to have so much fun today, just see!”

[hwangsies]

SILVER SOLUTION

(part 2 of galvanising green, read part 1 first!)

pairing: slytherin!hyunjin x slytherin!reader

summary: you dont know where you stand with hyunjin after the greenhouse incident, getting grouped together in potions class might give the both of you some clarity.

warnings: swearing, smut as in: heavy petting, some bathtub fun, praise kink i guess, pretty tame and very fluffy

3.6 k words,

enjoy <3

---

“class, listen up” your potions professor claps his hands together “today we’re making amortentia upon a special request from ms weasley” he smiles at victoire, who’s standing next to you behind labtable.

Potions is your only class you have together this year so you’re always exited for it, especially cause she excels in almost every class.

“mom told me she only realised that she liked dad through making this in class” she whispers to you as the professor keeps telling the class about the ingredients.

“mhh” you nod, pretending to be interested, but you simply cant be. Not when hyunjin is staring holes into the back of your head.

You turn around slightly just to see him at the table diagonally behind you, propped up with elbows on the table and locking eyes with you.

He clears his throat and straightens up to look over at his partner, james , when you catch him.

You sigh as the professor tells the class to begin, victoire already starting to chop up some rose thorns.

“hey, can you grab the pearldust and measure it?” she rips you out of your thoughts about if you were to harsh to the blonde boy that’s been on your mind for the past week.

“uhh- yea” you mumble, grabbing the little sliver bag that’s labelled as ‘pearl dust’.

“how much of this?” you ask before victoire points at the measurements in the book that’s laying infront of her on the table.

After about 20 minutes of mixing the ingredients you suddenly hear a loud clinging of someone dropping a glass, followed by yelling.

You turn around to see hyunjin and james at each others throats, fellow classmates quickly jumping in to get them off of each other.

“hey!” your professor comes running “this kind of behaviour is not acceptable in my classroom! I forbid it!” he says sternly.

Hyunjin and james breathing heavily as they nod apologetically.

The professor looks around before his eyes land on victoire “ms weasly would you be so kind to switch places with mr hwang?” he asks but you know its more of an order than a request.

“uh-“ your best friend looks over at you before a small grin tugs at her lips “yea of course” she chirps.

Your eyes widen as she leaves you alone, turning back around to your concoction to mix the fluid before hyunjin appears in your peripheral.

“hey” he says in a small voice, you just nod, eyes trained on the liquid that’s slowly gaining a pearly sheen.

“you’re still not gonna talk to me?” he asks, watching the silver liquid in the big pot as well.

“I said everything I had to say” you answer blankly.

“well I didn’t” he rebuttals, at which your eyes jump up diagonally to meet his.

“what did you and james fight about?” you ask, ignoring his statement before.

“that’s private” he says almost immediately after you stop speaking, at which you huff.

“that’s great, hwang. i love talking to you when you get defensive” you say sarcastically, continuously stirring the potion.

He exhales irritatedly “then why do you always bring up stuff that you know I don’t want to talk about?”

“because, shocker hyunjin the world doesn’t revolve around you” you turn to him, gesturing with the hand that isn’t stirring the liquid “also jesus christ how much aftershave did you put on?” you scrunch up your nose.

He furrows his brows at you before scoffing “you’re the one to talk, your perfume is stinking up this place” he shakes his head as he looks away from you.

“excuse me?” you turn to him.

“yea- as soon as I got here all I could freaking sme-“ he stops himself and his expression softens as he looks from the liquid in pot back to your face.

“what?” you ask, still infuriated as you look over to see the silver spiralling steam coming out of the pot, signalling that the amortentia is working.

“wow!” your professor comes over and applauds “that’s looking really good kids!”

You feel the blood rush to your head when you lock eyes with hyunjin again.

“I don’t feel too good professor I need to go to the bathroom” you quickly excuse yourself before storming out of the classroom, not waiting for an answer.

Hyunjin is quick to tell him that he’ll go check on you before running after you.

“y/n” he yells down the hall “can you stop running away from me? its getting old” he pants as he catches up with you.

“I never told you to follow me” you snap back, not stopping “leave me alone”

“no” he grabs your wrist to stop you, looking into your eyes when he succeeds “I like you, a lot”

“and I know that you like me back” his eyes are soft when he looks into yours.

“so for as long as you smell my aftershave and I smell your perfume in the amortentia I will run after you” you swallow when he closes in on your personal space.

“it doesn’t matter what I smell because I don’t know if i can trust you” you say quietly.

“I understand, but what can I do to change that?” he asks seriously, you shrug your shoulders.

Hyunjin gnaws at his lower lip, sliding his hand down your wrist to enclose your smaller hand in his.

“how about I can be your boyfriend for like 2 weeks, as a test run” you chuckle and shake your head.

“no-no listen” he pleads.

“yea- okay” you signal him to keep going.

“and if you don’t want me after that we’ll just stop, no pressure no anything, we don’t even have to tell people” he proposes.

“you don’t want to tell people because you don’t want other girls to know?” you ask teasingly.

“I- no-“ he sighs when he sees your grin.

At the same moment the door to the classroom open and the whole class comes out for their lunch break.

Hyunjin looks at you before looking back at them.

“what?” you ask, but he doesn’t answer you.

“hey!” he shouts at the fellow students including james and victoire “I like her!” he points at you.

“oh my god” you whisper, burying your face in your hand embarrassedly.

“a lot!!” he continues before looking down at you “she’s smart and funny and not to mention incredibly beautiful”

“get a room” someone yells before the students laugh and move past the two of you.

“I don’t care about other girls” he turns to you again “please?”

You inhale deeply before nodding “okay”

His pretty lips form into a big smile as his hands find your waist over your cloak.

“so does that mean I’m your boyfriend now?” he pulls you closer to his body, grinning from ear to ear, his eyes turning into crescents.

“14 days test trial boyfriend, sure” you grin back as he slowly leans down.

“but” you say, making him stop his actions “you’ll need to earn the first kiss as my boyfriend” you softly tap your index finger against his lips.

He groans playfully and buries his face into your neck “okay” he mumbles “whatever you want” he presses a kiss to your cheek as you grin victoriously.

-

"are you ever going to tell me why you and james fought in class two days ago?"

"It's not that serious" hyunjin shakes his head, not looking up from the notes on his lap.

"okay" you hum, pushing you hair back when a breeze of wind rushes through hagrids pumpkin field.

You observe the tall blond boy sitting on one of the huge pumpkins next to the one you're sitting on.

"did it possibly have to do with the big griffyndor vs slytherin quidditch match coming up?" you absently tap your feather against the tough skin of the pumpkin.

He sighs, looking up at you "yea"

"Scouts are coming and seekers aren't needed as much as other players, you know, since there's only one in each team" he runs a hand through his hair.

"so we know only one of us could possibly get scouted" you lock eyes.

"you dont know that" you try cheering him up "what if they think the both of you are amazing?"

Hyunjin chuckles "that's sweet of you but even if they did, they'd probably pick james because of his name"

You frown.

"Not that he isnt talented or anything but, you know" he shrugs.

"no, baby dont think like that. I've seen you play, you're amazing, anyone with eyes sees that" hyunjins eyes crinkle up as his pretty lips stretch into a smile.

He pushes himself off of his pumpkin to lean against yours.

"you just called me baby for the first time" he tilts up his chin, locking eyes with you.

"thats the only thing you took from my emotional speech just now?" you snicker, leaning down to boop his nose with yours.

"wanna kiss you so bad right now" hyunjin mumbles, biting his lower lip.

"hmm" you hum "not yet"

"Hey kids, listen i'm all for young love but please not on my pumpkins" hagrid shouts from his window.

"shit" hyunjin laughs.

"sorry hagrid"

-

"you came" hyunjin beams at you, gracefully landing on his feet next to you on one of the high tribunes.

"you asked me to" you tilt your head, as he steps closer.

"yea but it's only a practice game so-"

"i'm still gonna support my boyfriend" you grin, getting on your toes a little to kiss his cheek.

He blushes a little, his cheeks matching the faint redness of his nose, which you attribute to the cold weather; you swear it's the cutest thing he's ever done.

"are you blushing" tease him, cradling his cheeks in your hands.

"am not" he huffs sarcastically at which you giggle and press another kiss to his cheek.

"ay hwang! we dont have all day" a male voice calls for your boyfriend.

He looks back briefly to nod at his teammate .

"come with me after practice? i wanna show you something" he requests.

"yea, okay" you smile.

"okay, have fun watchig, babe" he drops a kiss to your cheek before turning his back to you.

"wait" you hold his arm "you forgot something"

"what?" hyunjin frowns.

"this" you place your hands on his cheeks once more and pull him flush to yourself, slotting your lips against his.

You hear his broom hitting the ground, a second later his hands encase your waist, pulling you closer.

The faint sound of hyunjins teammates hollering is the last thing you hear before his tongue prods at the seam of your lips.

The blood rushing to your ears keeps you from hearing anything but your tongues chasing each other.

You only seperate from each other when a high pitched whistle fills the air.

"fuck" he breathes, grinning before dropping a last kiss to your lips.

"continue this later?" youbite your lip as he picks up his broom.

"definetely" he winks before pushing himself off the ground to meet his teammates hovering in the middle of the field.

"that was so hot" you jump at victoires voice.

"what the fuck" you hold your chest as you turn around to see your bestfriend take a seat on the tribunes.

"how much did you see?" you adjust your green-white scarf as you sit down next to her.

"enough babe, that was a sexy girl move" she fiddles at you scarf as well.

You laugh "yea?"

"hell yea, look" she points up at hyunjin, where him and his teammates are still talking, one of them pushing hyunjins shoulder playfully.

"they are totally jealous of him" she squeals "and i'm totally jealous of you" she squints her green eyes teasingly.

-

“i can’t believe they let you use the prefects bathroom” you awe as you look around the spacious room with high walls and windows, where he had taken you after practice.

"one of the perks when you're the star of the slytherin quidditch team" hyunjin grins, dropping his slytherin coat to the ground.

He walks over to the gigantic bathtub and turns on the water, glancing over at you.

"luke warm or hot?" his hand rests on the tab.

"huh?" your head snaps over at him.

He chuckles "the bathwater"

"oh, uh hot" you nod.

"fitting" hyunjin grins, mumbling.

"Hm?" you lock eyes as you take off your coat and mimick hyunjin in dropping it to the ground.

"nothing" he giggles, walking over to you and wrapping his arms around your waist.

"take it off" he whispers against your lips, his fingers tugging at your shirt.

You comply and get rid of your clothes.

"Ooh" you sound as you step inside the big tub thats filled to the brim with bubbles.

"good?" hyunjin asks as he takes your hand to help you inside, he himself already sat down.

"great" you close your eyes as his arms envelope you from behind, leaning back against his chest.

“so what’d you think of seeing me play?” he whispers after a few minutes of comfortable silence.

“fishing for compliments are we?” you joke.

“ha ha” he murmurs against your neck, making goosebumps spread over your legs which doesn’t go unnoticed by him when his hand runs up your thigh.

“feels nice?” hyunjin runs his nose against the shell of your ear.

“hmh” you nod, closing your eyes when you feel his lips on his neck, tongue darting out to taste your skin.

“this?” he whispers, one of his large hands palming your breast, pinching your nipple as the other hand softly travels over your mound.

You open your eyes “hyunjin”

“hm?” he continues to kiss at your neck.

“wait a second, please” you say, moving from your spot from between his legs.

“whats going on?” hyunjin asks concernedly, reaching for your arm, urging you to stradde him.

“I just feel like I have to tell you this” you say, playing with his hair at the back of his head.

“what are you so nervous about baby” he huffs, smiling when you shake your head.

“I- I don’t know” you sigh, his hands soothing up your back.

“I” you exhale shakily “I’m a virgin”

“huh?” he blinks, his eyes threatening to pop out of his skull.

“I mean I- I didn’t know” he runs his hands down your arms to take your hands in his “but I really don’t care if that’s what you were scared of”

“well, kind of” you grow a little smaller out of embarrassment.

“hey” he chuckles, pulling you a little higher on his lap “you didn’t actually think I’d laugh at you or something, did you?” he gets more serious.

“I don’t know, you always called me ‘miss goody shoes’” you mumble, pushing some hair behind his ear.

“baby I was joking” he cups your face “you know just like little boys who pull the little girls pigtails because that’s the only way they know how to get their attention”

You scoff “you never actually pulled on my hair though”

“yea, cause I don’t know if you’re into that yet” he quips, your jaw going slack.

“you little sh-“ you slap his shoulder, the water sloshing and some bubbles flying into the air as hyunjins laughter fills the room.

“I’m kidding” he laughs, catching your hand in his.

“I’m kidding” he whispers again when leaning in to press his lips to yours.

“you are my good girl though” he whispers against your lips, your heart stuttering at his words and your core clenching.

He bites his lip as if he knows what effect he has on you, you part your lips to say something but instead of words coming out, a little whimper tumbles from your lips.

“cute” he giggles before slotting his lips against yours, a groan tearing from his throat when you suck at his lower lip.

His arms circling your waist to pull your chest flush against his warm one, a groan tears from his throat when you suck on his lower lip.

You loop your arms around his neck and angle your head to deepen the kiss, gasping a little when you feel his erection poke against you pubic bone.

“sorry” he smiles coyly, reaching down to adjust himself.

“don’t worry I don’t want to wait forever, you know i-“ you explain.

“hey, you don’t have to explain yourself to me, we’ll do whatever you want, I lo-“ he cuts himself off.

“you?” you repeat after him questioningly.

“I” he laughs “shit, uhm” his fingers draw circles on the skin of your hips.

"I've had a crush on you for like half a year now" he chuckles.

"huh?" you lock eyes.

"yea" he grins "remember when that one ravenclaw asshole called you a muggleblood and you let him have it six ways from sunday?" you giggle as you remember the incident.

"I got detention for that" you smile at him.

"yea but only because you turned his nose into a rhinos horn" he laughs with you.

“anyways, that’s when I was like… damn she’s cool as hell” he recalls, tucking a wet strand of your hair behind your hear.

“why did you never talk to me?” you ask, running your finger over his toned chest.

“I wanted to but you always seemed to avoid me and I didn’t want to annoy you” hyunjin closes his eyes, feigning regret.

“I had a crush on you so I was scared to be around you” you confess “but to be fair every girl in this grade has a crush on you” you roll your eyes playfully.

“well you’re the one in this bathtub with me right now” he grins, leaning forward to place a kiss on your collarbone.

You hum “yea I am”, when hyunjin licks at the base of your throat before gently sucking at the soft skin.

“wanna turn around again?” he cocks up one of his eyebrows.

“why?” you grin “so you can feel me up better?”

“exactly” he kisses your lips before you comply to his wish.

You lie your head back against his shoulder as he presses kisses to your temple, lifting one of your hands to caress the side of his face.

“how are these bubbles not dissolving?” you think out loud.

“magic” hyunjin whispers, kissing the skin under your ear.

You giggle when his hands move down your sides.

“can I touch you?” he asks quietly, kissing the slope of your neck.

“please” you mewl.

“you’re so perfect baby” hyunjin says, palming both of your breasts before moving one hand in between your legs, which you instinctively spread for him.

You can feel an amused puff of air against your neck “see? you are my good little girl”

Your stomach tightens in arousal when he brushes two fingers through your folds.

“aren’t you?” he mumbles against your skin after sucking a bruise onto your neck.

“yes” you moan when he draws circles over your clit.

“hyunjin” you whimper, the warmth in your core spreading into your limbs.

“I’ll make you feel good, baby” he rasps, his fingers picking up the pace.

You grab onto his bicep as you throw your head back, pleasure booming behind your lid as hyunjin suckles on your earlobe.

“fuck” you cry out.

“that’s it baby” he urges you on, rubbing at your sanity as you try not to fall into him completely.

“I’m close” you mutter, bucking your hips up to meet the friction of his fingers.

“come for me, babygirl” he whispers “I got you baby”

The knot in your stomach snaps and spikes of pleasure flood through your system as high pitched moans tear from your throat.

Hyunjin slows down his fingers when your legs start trembling and you gasp for air.

“good fucking girl” he chuckles, gently rubbing your folds before you hold his hand still, the overstimulation setting in.

“fuck” you groan before he tilts your head up to catch your lips with his.

Humming into the kiss before you break it, hyunjin bites his lip as he grins down at you.

You can feel the blood rushing through your face and quickly bury it in the crook of his neck; his throat vibrating with laughter.

“don’t go shy on me now, pretty girl” he mumbles, fingers dancing over your stomach.

“sorry” you giggle before looking up to kiss him again.

“don’t be sorry, you’re perfect” he kisses you back.

After getting out of the tub first and wrapping a towel around his hips, hyunjin helps you get out and wraps a towel around you and rubbing you dry vigorously.

“baby ow” you laugh and take the towel from him.

“sorry” he giggles, cradling your cheeks in his hands and pressing a wet smooch to your lips.

“eww” you laugh but he holds your face still in his hands “don’t ew your boyfriend”

You smile “apropos boyfriend”

“yea?” he releases your face, pushing some hair out of his face.

“I think I want to upgrade you from test trial boyfriend to real boyfriend” you say sheepishly, looking down.

“only if you’re up for it though, I don’t want you to leave me hanging-“

“yes” he interrupts you “I am up for it, like… super up for it” he steps even closer.

“really?” you ask as you wrap the large towel around your torso.

“yes!” he chuckles, kissing your cheek before moving to the other one before attacking your nose.

“okay! okay” you squeal.

“does that mean you’ll come to the game as my girlfriend and cheer me on and stuff?” he grins, wiggling his brows cutely.

“yes, yes I will” you promise before locking lips again.

-

a/n: hi there! thank u for being so patient with me! i was rly crammed up with life lol. anyways i feel like this was kinda lack luster, but i intend on writing a thrid part as the finale of a trilogy i guess lol.

so thank you sm for reading if you’ve made it this far, lots of love to you <3

(also unedited so pls dont come for me im tireddd lol)

[bts-hyperfixation]

Hot for teacher

Professor Kim may be the hottest man to walk the planet. It was such a shame he was a pretentious asshole with the ego to match. From the moment you first walked into his philosophy lecture you knew it was not going to be a fun semester. His eyes raked across you and he smirked, from then on you became his punching bag every time no one was willing to answer his questions. He would pretend to look for someone else to call on, but he would always come back to you, seemingly taking pleasure in the way you squirmed unable to recall which philosophers he had been talking about.

After a particularly gruelling lecture, your friends decided you needed a night out. They had enough of seeing you come home and flop down onto your bed before reading every philosophy book on the reading list just to avoid the humiliation of your teachers questions again. It took some convincing on your end but eventually you find yourself in a revealing outfit, into an uber.

The destination was a bar popular with locals downtown, the uni students often avoided it because it was out of the way of the main clubs, making it perfect for your plan of quietly studying your e-books while your friends got too drunk to notice you breaking their rules. You ordered a cocktail to nurse as the girls you were with pounded a few shots before moving into a booth hidden in the corner. You didn’t see the professor enter the bar, but he saw you. Eyes once again dragging down your form, enjoying the new skin on offer while also cursing his old roommate’s choice of watering hole. He tries to concentrate on the conversation he is having with Jimin, but when your friends leave you alone in the booth his attention is drawn back to you. He watches as a couple of frat boy types seize the opportunity to descend on your now vulnerable position.

The boys squeeze into the booth, backing you into the corner. You can smell the beer on their breath as they get uncomfortably close to you. The one sat next to you puts a hand on your thigh. You wince as he pinches the exposed skin.

“What’s a pretty thing like you doing alone in a bar this far away from campus.” He flashes what you’re sure he thinks is a charming smile and leans impossibly closer to you. You dig your nails into his hand in an attempt to make him remove it, but he just grasps tighter.

“I’m not alone, my friends are over there” your voice is weaker than you would have liked and when you glance at your friends you notice they are a little too inebriated to help you right now. The boys smirk when they see that help isn’t coming for you. Panic rises in your throat as the hand on your thigh creeps further up, pushing your dress with it.

“Excuse me gentleman, if you don’t mind, the lady will be coming with me now.” You stare up at Taehyung, trying to process where he had come from, surprised you hadn’t seen him before now. He looks intimidating even outside of the lecture hall. The frat boys falter for a second before scoffing and brushing off the interruption. Taehyung does not take well to being ignored, reaching for a beer bottle nearby and smashing it against the table. “I said she is coming with me.”

The men glance at the sharp glass in your professor’s hand and then at each other before removing themselves from the benches, evidently deciding you weren’t worth the stitches. The relief floods your system as Taehyung lowers his self-made weapon.

“Are you okay?” he questions, holding his hand out to assist you out of the booth. You take it and slide out from behind the table. Your eyes don’t leave his as you straighten your dress out.

“Why are you helping me?” you’d meant for the question to stay in your mind, but it slipped out anyway.

“I couldn’t just leave you there, what kind of man would I be if I’d let them carry on.” You shake your head a little to dispel thoughts of a potential ulterior motive and whisper your thanks. “Can I take you home miss Y/L/N.” you nod and allow him to slip an arm around your shoulder, feeling protected in his embrace. He drops you at your apartment and the incident never comes up again. In class it’s like he doesn’t know you exist for a few days before he returns to making you wriggle with difficult question. He seems to take a sick pleasure in watching you. Finally, having had enough you decide to confront him after class.

“Do you have a problem with me sir?” just the two of you remain in the classroom when you corner him.

“I don’t know what you’re referring to miss Y/L/N.”

“Y/N call me Y/N, and I think you do know. You always pick on me, you see to enjoy making me feel uncomfortable.” He takes a step towards you and you tumble back, suddenly very aware of the intimidating aura that surrounds him. You long to cower away and leave but you feel hypnotized.

“Y/N” your name sounds amazing coming from his lips. He takes a few more steps forward and you find the back of your legs pressed against his desk. His arms fall either side of you, palms resting on the desk. “Whatever problem you’ve decided I’ve got with you is purely in your head, our relationship is strictly… professional.” His gaze falls to your cleavage on the last word and you swallow thickly, suddenly very warm. “Will there be anything else?” he releases you and returns to packing his things away. Your brain was left cloudy as you stammer out a negative and flea the room, trying to straighten out what had just happened in your head. All you knew was your panties were inexplicably soaked.

A friend’s birthday brings you to yet another bar. This one much closer to campus and filled with people you knew. Still, you are uneasy after the last encounter, eyes dating around the room to ensure your safety. Not allowing anyone to back you into a corner. Every little movement puts you a little more on edge. You wait until the birthday girl is sufficiently drunk and announce your exit. To your dismay no taxis are available for the next half an hour. You consider walking for a moment, but the thought fills you with dread. Seen as all your friends are in various states of inebriation you find yourself only left with one option. You grab your phone and send out a silent prayer that he is still awake and doesn’t mind.

“Professor? Can you come get me?

It doesn’t take long for Taehyung to reach the bar, but when he pulls up, he finds another student flirting with you. In all fairness this one is being far more respectful, but it still makes his blood boil. The man trails a hand down your shoulder, and you do your best to turn him down politely. He climbs from his car and makes his way to you.

“Y/N are you ready to leave?” you are shocked to find him there with you so soon but nod anyway. The other student backs away immediately, Taehyung’s glare enough to scare anyone off as he leads you to his car. You clamber into the passenger seat and wait for him to drive you home. It’s a quiet ride, until you notice him miss the exit for the student dorms, instead heading for the teacher’s quarters.

“Sir? Where are we going?” you pulse races when you see the way he is looking at you.

“Clearly you can’t be trusted to keep yourself safe, so I thought I’d take you back to my apartment for the night, is that okay?” You nod your consent, and his free hand moves to play with the hair at the nape of your neck. You lean into the touch as he pulls softly. He soon pulls into the driveway of a small apartment complex used by newer teachers. He turns off the engine. Releasing your hair, he opens his door before coming around to help you from the car. He leads you through the front door, checking the coast is clear of other professors. He swiftly unlocks the door to his own apartment and ushers you in. you barely get a chance to look around the room before his hands are on you. He feels every curve of your body, lingering at your hips. After what seems like and age, his lips find their way to yours.

It’s the most passionate kiss you’ve ever experienced. Your head empties completely, consumed with only the need to get impossibly closer to him. You find yourself moaning loudly against his lips. He pulls away from you, holding your shoulders so you can’t follow him.

“Shh baby, you have to be quiet or we will get in trouble.” He presses his lips to your forehead. “You don’t want that do you.” You shake your head in response. “That’s my good girl.” You keen at the praise, desperate for him to call you that again. He kisses you again this time lifting you. You instinctively wrap your legs around his waist, and he carries you over to a large desk to the side of his room. He places you atop the cold wood. You shiver at the change in temperature, leaning further into Taehyung for warmth. He slots in between your legs, allowing you the extra contact. His fingers trail up your thighs and settle against your damp panties.

“So wet already… is it all for me baby? Or did that college boy do it for you? Did you get turned on by his shameless flirting while you were waiting for me?” his tone is teasing but it makes you whimper, worried he was displeased with you.

“Only you Taehyung, all for you” your voice is whiny as you grind into his hand, desperate for some friction.

“Sir… you will call me Sir.” He removes the pressure from your core and undoes his belt.

“Yes sir.” Your eyes are glued to his waist, mouth dry as he pulls the leather away from his pants. The movement is agonisingly slow.

“Good girl.” He purrs watching as you bask in the praise. “whose good girl?”

“Yours sir, always yours” he pulls your face up to meet his, kissing you as a reward for your good behaviour. You savour his sweet taste. He grips your hair and drags you backwards.

“On your knees.” You slide from the desk with no hesitation and open your mouth expectantly. He chuckles at your eager response. Petting your messy hair before unsheathing himself. Your mouth water instantly, a comfortable width and above average length. He is staring down at you, holding himself ready for you. Nothing in your life could have prepared you for how turned on this man would make you. You lurch forward, licking precoma from the tip of his throbbing cock. He tsks at you.

“So impatient Y/N, good girls should wait for their reward.”You sit back on your heels and wait for him to tell you it's okay sad that you've disappointed him. He strokes your hair again head nods letting you know it's okay to begin. Eagerly you wrap your lips around the head letting your hands cover the base where your throat won't reach. You run your tongue along a vein on the underside of his shaft. He quivers at the sensation hands burying deep within your hair.

You smile to yourself knowingly, loving that you were able to cause him pleasure. It's not long before his grasp is forcing you to take him deeper gag as he pushes you past your limits deeper and deeper onto his cock you struggled to breathe through your nose. He feels your throat constrict in protest but doesn't release you.

“Just a little longer” you feel him tense on your tongue trying to hold back his orgasm and you suck harder. Before you can make him cum, he removes himself from your mouth and you mourn the loss. You take the time to catch your breath as he helps you stand pressing his lips back on yours roughly. This time he lifts you and carries you into his bedroom throwing you onto the bed joining you quickly. He straddles you and pulls your dress over your head. He also makes quick work of your underwear, losing them somewhere in the corner of his room as he throws them away. He trails his mouth down your naked form hesitating before diving into your core.

He peppers your thighs with kisses, His warm breath mixing with the cold of your slick making you shiver as he edges closer and closer to where you need him the most. Soon Helix slowly up your slit hovering above your clit before sucking it into his mouth. You arch your back at the contact. His fingers soon join the assault, two slipping within you. As he pumped them finding the rough spot inside you, you feel the high in your stomach building embarrassingly quick. While he works hard to get you off your moans get a little too loud again and he slaps your thigh reminding you to be quiet. You bite down on your hand trying desperately not to scream as he brings you to climax. He continues until you're at the point of overstimulation enjoying the small whimpers that make their way past the barricade of your hand.

Once he decides that you are stimulated enough, he makes his way back up to your face. You grasp on to his shoulders needing the contact of his well chiselled form. Soon you feel him lining himself up with your entrance. You worry that it will hurt from the overstimulation brought on by your previous orgasm, but you can't find that within you to voice your concern only wanting to please him. He slowly pushes into you. You clench around him at the intrusion, feeling overly full. He gives you barely enough time to adjust before starting to thrust, no longer able to hold himself back. You grasp the bed sheets to keep you steady as he sets an unrelenting speed in search of his high. His eyes on yours, boring into you intensely, daring you to see what would happen if you looked away from him or made a sound. Your mesmerized by the concentration on his face, drawn in by everything about him. He cums deep inside of you, burying himself as much as he could until his dick stopped spasming.

“Are you okay, baby?” is the first thing out of his mouth when he comes to. You nod and his mouth twists into a boxy grin. “That’s my good girl.” You cuddle into his side sleepily and try not to focus on what will happen when you next attend one of his lectures.

Masterlist

Other works on these prompts - closed

Holiday requests - open

[doyelikehaggis]

Twelve Days of Rarepairs: Scanny | Scott McCall x Danny Mahealani (Teen Wolf)

Requested by @childofsquidward

The collie laying on the table is patient and docile as Scott finishes slotting the cone into place around her neck. She just stares up at him with big eyes, nudging against his hand with her nose.

Laughing, Scott rubs her head. Her tail gives a little wiggle in response.

"You know, you're the only one I've seen who isn't bothered by this thing," he tells her, scratching behind her ear. 

She just gives a playful yip in response. 

The bell rings over the front door, alerting Scott to someone entering the animal clinic. Somewhat pointless considering he heard the heartbeat first. But Lola's ears immediately perk up, and her tail bangs against the table.

Scott grins at Danny when he appears in the doorway, holding two festive coffee cups.

"You've been missed," he says.

Lola's already standing on the table, barking fondly at Danny. He laughs, and moves towards her, fuelling her excitement.

"By which one of you?" Danny jokes.

Scott's eyes widen. He opens his mouth, but he falters, and Danny's already focused on Lola again anyway. Heat rushes to his face. He quickly tries to regain some composure. 

"Hey, girl! Oh, you look so good!" Danny coos. "Did Dr. McCall take good care of you?"

Scott tries to bite back a smile and fails. He's getting used to hearing his friends call him Dr. McCall, more as a joke, but something about the way Danny says it gives him this fluttering in his chest.

So, when he first saw him at the start of December, it was a surprise. He'd practically disappeared off the face of the earth for two years, and then suddenly he was back in town for the holidays, to see his family and friends. 

But not only that, Scott hadn't quite realized just how attractive Danny is. Was he always that good-looking while they were at school together? Of course he was, everyone knew it. But Scott hadn't exactly been out to himself at that point, so seeing Danny back from New Orleans, even more tanned, with even more defined muscles—yeah, Scott might get a little nervous whenever he sees him now.

And it doesn't help that they seem to be seeing more of each other now than they did while at school. They run into each other in town. When Scott went back to fill in for Coach while he was away towards the end of the year, Danny just kept showing up, saying he was visiting a teacher to discuss something (he is, after all, in computer programming now, so it makes some semblance of sense), and they'd talk out on the field. He bmped into him while bringing his mom lunch at the hospital. 

Scott even saw him while out with Lydia two weeks ago. He was catching up with Jackson, who was also back in town for the holidays, like everyone else. 

And now at work, too. The universe seems to be playing some joke on him. He doesn't mind all that much, for once. As long as this isn't going to lead to him finding out that Danny's actually been turned into a vampire, or has been possessed by some new, evil spirit.

"Thank you," Danny says, lifting his eyes to Scott. Of course, Scott's still the one looking up at him, because it would appear Danny has had another growth spurt as well as everything else. 

Scott realizes he isn't answering. Just gazing. He grins, and hastily tries to not be totally obvious.

"Just doing my job," he says with a shrug. 

Danny rolls his eyes. "Yeah, but I know for a fact that this clinic should have been shut for the rest of the holidays. So, thank you for seeing her anyway."

Scott hesitates at that. "Well… you're a friend. And I had to come in today anyway. And—" he looks down at Lola, who's settled back down on the table, and gives her head another rub "—I couldn't just leave this one stranded on Christmas Eve."

"We both thank you, then." Danny then holds out one of the coffee cups. "A gesture to prove it."

"God, thank you," Scott says, gratefully accepting the cup and taking a drink. "I haven't had anything all day. Or since last night. Including sleep. I might be running on three Mountain Dews and a kitkat."

Danny raises his eyebrows in disbelief. "That… can't be good for you."

Scott just shrugs again. He'll probably feel the effects later on today, since it's currently only one-thirty in the afternoon. As long as he makes it to four to head to the station to see Stiles, then he can head back home and have a nap. And maybe food.

"I didn't know the life of a vet was so demanding."

"It's the holidays," Scott explains, taking another drink before continuing. The gingerbread-cinnamon-whatever is in this latte is the best thing he's ever had right now. "Lots of people want their pets better before Christmas and New Year. A lot of strays get found with bad injuries. Currently I have—"

Barking starts up from the dog room in the back. Scott smiles, gesturing towards the door as Lola once again perks up.

"—them. Eight labrador puppies. They're under a year old. Deaton and I were trying to get them rehomed before the holidays, but it didn't work out. That's why I was coming in to work anyway, since Deaton's out of town."

"Never mind, your job is clearly far more demanding than I thought." Danny smiles, glances down at Lola, then pauses. "Do you need a hand with them at all? They sound pretty eager for attention."

"Yeah, I was gonna take them out for a walk once I was finished up here," Scott says.

Danny's grin widens. "You planned to walk eight hyperactive labrador puppies by yourself? In the snow?"

Scott just gives another shrug. "They're not too hard to handle once they're outside."

The look Danny is giving him only intensifies the fluttery feeling in his chest. It's like something's tickling him from the inside. He can feel the heat beneath his skin, in his cheeks.

"Guess that whole Alpha thing really does give you an advantage, huh," Danny says, a certain teasing twinkle in his eyes but his grin sincere.

Scott has barely gotten used to the idea of Danny knowing about the supernatural at all, never mind him making casual comments about it. And especially not while he's looking at him like that.

"I don't know if it's anything to do with that," Scott says, shaking his head. "But… sometimes, yeah. It comes in handy."

Danny nods. The puppies are still barking in the back, trying to get Scott's attention.

"Well, I think Lola could use a walk after being so good about this," Danny says. He looks at Scott, smiling. "Mind if we join you? I can be pretty good with dogs, might help to take a couple off your hands for an hour."

Scott's eyebrows raise in surprise, and his heartbeat raises itself as well. 

"You… but—" he frowns, his head tilting with a confused smile "—it's Christmas Eve. Don't you wanna get back to your family?"

"They won't miss me for a little while," Danny says, brushing it off. Then, because he seems to be catching on, he rolls his eyes, and says, "Please? You helped me with Lola when you clearly already had your hands full. I wanna do more than get you coffee."

Scott's heart drops into his stomach and lurches right back up. He swallows, and tries to keep his mind on one track, biting his lip. 

"Uh… yeah," he breathes out before he can think twice. "You know what? That would be great. Thank you."

"No problem," Danny says, sincerely.

They get Lola to hop off the table, and head into the back room to get the others ready. Danny just laughs when he sees the little christmas hats Scott put on the ones that were happy to wear them.

As they're getting them all on their leashes, Danny casually adds, with a glance at Scott, "And if you were up for it, I'd like to get coffee with you sometime."

Scott accidentally clips the leash to his hand instead of the collar. He winces, quickly undoing it and fixing it to its right place instead. Then he looks over at Danny and his amused grin, his heart racing.

"Like—like a date?" he asks, hardly daring to believe that's what he means. Danny was never interested in him. Was he? 

Scott's quickly going through every interaction he's ever had with him.

"Exactly a date," Danny corrects. 

Scott's eyes are wide. His mouth opens, then closes. He wasn't prepared for this. Sure, the thought of Danny liking him back crosses his mind after Stiles and Lydia both insisted that he did after he told them about running into him all those times. But that doesn't mean he was prepared for it.

"You can say no," Danny says, giving another casual shrug as clips the last lead on to the last excited puppy. "I just thought I might as well ask. Waiting three years to do it was bad enough, I didn't want to seem totally pathetic by waiting four to at least know what you'd say."

"Three—what?" Scott asks in disbelief, sure that he must have somehow misheard. "You've wanted to ask me out for… three years?" 

"Like I said, it was starting to seem pathetic." Danny looks at him, holding his stare with a soft gaze. "But, Lydia told me that you came out last year, and after seeing you, I figured I should at least ask."

"Wow. Uh…" Scott's mind is a mess, and he can't sort his thoughts out. Except for one. "I'd love to."

Danny blinks, thrown off his own guard now. Apparently even he wasn't prepared. But he quickly recovers, as does Scott, smiles forming across both their faces.

"Go on a date with you, I mean," Scott says, as if it needs further elaboration. 

"Really?" Danny asks. "Uh… today?"

Scott's breath is knocked out of him, but he's already nodding again. "Yeah, absolutely."

He didn't think anything could make the fluttery feeling in his chest worse. Turns out, Danny smiling at him like he is right now is the thing that can. 

"Okay, great," he says. "Then let's get these guys out of here."

Scott happily agrees. They head out of the back door after making sure the front is locked up. It has to be an hour or more that passes as they walk the dogs through town, taking an open path into the woods, through the snow. The whole way, Scott and Danny are talking, and laughing, catching up on the years they missed and in between. 

[grailfinders]

Fate and Phantasms #104: Geronimo

Today on Fate and Phantasms, we’re making FGO’s best (by default) Native American servant, Geronimo! He’s a skilled tracker and summoner, but still finds the time to be able to gut people with daggers and arrows. Good for him, it’s nice to have hobbies.

Check out his build breakdown below the cut, or his character sheet over here!

Next up: I shot the sheriff, but I did not shoot the deputy

Race and Background

Geronimo’s a variant human, giving him +1 Wisdom and Dexterity, Survival proficiency, and the Weapon Master feat. That last bit gives him an extra +1 Dexterity, plus proficiency with four extra weapons of your choice, as long as they’re simple or martial. (Not entirely sure what that leaves out, to be honest.) Definitely pick up some bows though, we won’t be able to get those from your classes.

You’re a medicine man, but the closest we’ve got for backgrounds is Acolyte, so we’ll make due. This gives you proficiency in Insight and Religion.

Ability Scores

Your Wisdom should be as high as possible. You track, you notice things, and you cast spells. That’s all wisdom. After that is Intelligence. Nature’s an Int skill for some reason, and you’re pretty smart in general. After that is Dexterity; you’re good with knives and bows, that’s all dex. Also-like many servants, calling what you normally wear light armor would be a generous statement. Your Constitution isn’t bad, you survive getting stabbed pretty well. Your Strength is a little low, but you don’t really need it that much. Finally, dump Charisma. It’s not that you’re unlikeable, you’re just not the kind of guy who takes center stage.

Class Levels

1. Rogue 1: You’re going to be a druid eventually, but rogues get more skills and you’re pretty skilled so... 

First level rogues get proficiency with Dexterity and Intelligence saves, as well as four rogue skills. Grab Stealth, Perception, Intimidation and Investigation. You can sneak up on people, track them down, and scare the crap out of them. Not necessarily in that order.

You also get Expertise in Stealth and Survival, doubling your proficiency bonus with those skills. You can also make a Sneak Attack while using finesse or ranged weapons, gaining extra damage when you attack creatures you have advantage over or are distracted by other enemies. 

You also learn how to speak Thieves’ Cant. It’s a language.

2. Druid 1: Bouncing over to druid learns you some Druidic, as well as how to cast and prepare Spells, based on your Wisdom. You get Guidance and Thunderclap as your cantrips, but like most casters you’re pretty flexible when it comes to your other spells. Since you can prepare spells each day I’m not even going to bother bringing them up in text unless they’re absolutely vital to the build.

As a rule of thumb, healing, tracking, or Things That Could Feasibly Be Done Without Magic spells are a solid pick, but you are a caster, so feel free to go nuts.

3. Druid 2: Second level druids join a druid circle, and the circle of the Shepherd will help you summon totem spirits and support your party. You can use Wild Shape twice per short rest, turning into a beast of cr 1/4 or lower that can’t fly or swim as an action. You can’t cast spells as an animal, but you can concentrate on them. Alternatively, you can spend a wild shape use to find a Wild Companion, effectively casting Find Familiar without a spell slot. In this case, the familiar only lasts a number of hours equal to your druid level. 

As a shepherd, you learn the Speech of the Woods, learning Sylvan and gaining the ability to talk to animals. You can also summon a Spirit Totem as a bonus action once per short rest, creating a spirit with a 30′ aura for a minute. Spirits fit into three categories- while they come with animals already attached, you can feel free to flavor them however you see fit. The bear spirit gives creatures of your choice in its aura temporary hp and advantage on strength checks and saves. The hawk spirit lets you use your reaction to grant advantage on an attack against creatures in the aura, and giving you and your allies advantage on perception checks while in its aura. Finally, the unicorn spirit grants advantage on all checks to detect creatures within the aura, and using healing spells inside or outside the aura also heals all creatures within the aura a number of hit points equal to your druid level.

4. Rogue 2: Now that we have one subclass, let’s grab another. First, you have to get a Cunning Action, letting you dash, disengage, or hide as a bonus action.

5. Rogue 3: Again, trying to avoid beating around the bush here; you’re a Scout, getting the peanut butter of ranger all up in rogue’s chocolate. Scouts are Skrimishers, allowing you to react when a creature ends its turn within 5′ of you to move half your speed without provoking attacks. You’re also a Survivalist, doubling your proficiency bonus in Nature and Survival, as well as making you proficient in both skills. This and expertise are not exclusive, so have fun with that +12 to tracking.

You also have the optional feature Steady Aim, spending all your movement as a bonus action to gain advantage on your next attack. 

6. Rogue 4: Use your first Ability Score Improvement to bump up your Dexterity for a better AC and better attacks.

7. Druid 3: Third level druids get second level spells. Enhance Ability replicates your entire skillset with a single spell, giving advantage to all of a creature’s ability checks in one category. You can also use Moonbeam now, a (literal) pale reflection of your noble phantasm.

8. Druid 4: If you’re still eager to break character despite your alternative uses for wild shape, Wild Shape Improvement lets you transform into beasts of CR 1/2 or lower, and swimming creatures are now on the table. You also get another ASI, so bump up your Wisdom for stronger spells and better tracking.

You also get a new cantrip, Druidcraft is just plain useful, and you’ll be able to ruin your DM’s attempts at making things more dramatic on the fly.

9. Rogue 5: Fifth level rogues get an Uncanny Dodge, using their reaction to halve the damage from a single attack. Armor isn’t really your thing, so any kind of damage mitigation is a smart move.

10. Rogue 6: Use your second round of expertise to improve your Perception and Intimidation. You’re scary, and good at being a lookout.

11. Rogue 7: Your Evasion means that you’re now really good at dexterity saves; failed saves deal half damage, successful ones deal none.

12. Druid 5: Fifth level druids get third level spells. Not much else is happening here.

13. Druid 6: Shepherd druids are Mighty Summoners, giving your summoned beasts and fey more HP and magical attacks for overcoming resistances. You’re summoning the guardian spirit of your people, they should be better than the average coyote.

14. Druid 7: Congrats on the fourth level spells! Moving on.

15. Rogue 8: Use this ASI to bump your Dexterity up even further to be the sneakiest and stabbiest you can be.

16. Rogue 9: Ninth level scouts get Superior Mobility, giving you an extra 10 feet of movement. This can also be applied to your swimming and climbing speeds, which you won’t have unless you wild shape.

17. Druid 8: Eighth level druids get one last Wild Shape Improvement, increasing your max CR to 1 and removing all other limitations on your wild shape. You also get one last ASI, so bump up your Constitution for a bit more health.

18. Druid 9: Level 5 spells, nice.

19. Druid 10: Remember how I said in the last shepherd feature that you’re summoning the guardian spirit of your people? Now you’re actually doing that. When you summon a Guardian Spirit, summoned beasts and fey that end their turn in the totem’s aura regain half your druid level in HP.

You also get one last cantrip. Gust will help break up any cloud-based hazards you have to deal with, and hide your skywriting.

20. Druid 11: Our final level gets you level 6 spells, and we actually have one to talk about this time! You finally get Sunbeam to fully complete your noble phantasm.

Pros:

Your high stealth and animal army makes it very easy to sneak around in combat. Set up your own distraction, pick off enemies with sneak attacks, and the rare few who notice you will still have to eat a dozen attacks of opportunity if they try to go after you.

Survivalist and Expertise stacking is just silly, quadrupling your survival proficiency. We didn’t stick around rogue long enough for Reliable Talent, but a +28 to tracking is good enough that it doesn’t matter. If something physically exists, you’ll probably be able to track it down.

Mixing Wild Shape with a rogue’s damage avoiding abilities makes you really hard to kill, especially if the enemy’s distracted by your pets.

Cons:

Mixing in rogue gave you some solid weapon attacks, but it also removed your higher level spells. This means you miss out on stuff like Planeshift and True Ressurection. Shooting people really hard is nice, but it might not outweigh the cost here.

Defensively Rogue/Druid mixing is fine, but it’s not as great on offense. Wild Shape and Sneak Attack do not mix at all. 

Summoning spells and your Noble Phantasms (Sun/Moonbeam) are both concentration spells. Unless you wild shape, your constitution isn’t that great, plus you’ll have to pick and choose what you’re doing.

[unclerippuascension]

Autistic infodump about Balan Wonderworld or whatever the fuck

Man it really does suck that Balan Wonderworld fucking crashed and burned because unlike Mighty No. 9 I feel like there was some glimmer of goodness in there. Not in terms of gameplay, that’s borked because Yuji Naka still thinks we’re in the fucking 90s where games had one godamn button gameplay and yet also has 80 powerups (seriously what ganja was he smoking, is he ok?), but I mean the story. Which is so weird because the implimentation of story in this game was so passive agressive, like Yuji Naka didn’t want a story but Square was like “No no, you work at our company, you put a fucking story in your game”

Like... there’s clearly story here, but there’s no dialogue. Not having spoken dialogue isn’t a bad thing, but you need to have story shown off in another way and Balan Wonderworld doesn’t do that. That’s especially bad when your story relies on making us care about the struggles characters have. And the people who made this game knew that because they made a fucking light novel that explains everything about everyone. I just WHAT

Was is it too much for them to have a part of the pause menu where you can get a short biography of the characters you’ve met? Kirby Star Allies did this and that game didn’t have a story as big as Balan Wonderworld’s! Not to mention the novel really pulls a FNAF novel where it explains so much important lore that ain’t NOBODY who isn’t in the fandom is gonna read, hell with how much this game flopped I don’t even think anybody in general is gonan read it. Stuff like: did you know Balan was created by Lance, that weird hentai tentacle guy who’s kind of the Reiali  of this game? (apologies to Nights fans if I fucked up the name) YEAH, ME NEITHER, YUKARI HAD TO TELL ME. Their whole thing is basically this one meme in case you haven’t read the novel like me

I want you really think about how much of a mistake this was. Don’t pull a FNAF novel series if you’re making a game, there are ways to impliment story without it being JRPG levels of involved. Again, just have short blurbs as an option in the pause menu.

Speaking of Balan, they really did my mans dirty. It’s like the one Spongebob meme, “You used me...TO BRING IN PLAYERS”. You do not play as Balan in this game, you do QTEs. I never played Nights, Sonic was my Sega fix, but if I was a Nights fan I would feel so cheated. He’s got so much potential, and he’s probably a more developed character in the light novel, but here? He’s just the hook, and once you bite the rest of the game is just....

yeah.

Again, they could have had stuff for Balan that wasn’t QTEs. Maybe some gameplay like Nights? I get that the game isn’t a Nights game, but maybe have his short segments be little snapshots of that kind of gameplay? Please the game is so horrendous, people would find the game tolerable if they had the gameplay version of that cold glass of water in the middle of a marathon. 

Also maybe cut back on the powerups, do we really need 80 of them? So many of them make other powerups obselete, this isn’t a Megaman game, Mr. Naka. We do not need 80 powerups that are all more or less recolors of each other. It doesn’t help that most of these costumes are ugly as sin, useless (serious, who thought Box Fox was a good thing, I just want to talk), or are just a recolor of another powerup. I heard there were originally going to be 40, but even 40 is too much. Your character has three slots for power-ups, have it be three powerups per world and make them permanent additions and not something you need to re-acquire because yes that’s a thing. To bring up Megaman again, imagine if you were using a powerup and you died, and now you’d have to battle the robot master again to get it back. It’s not exactly like that but its on the same track.

Yukari said this while we were talking about this topic, but Balan does feel like a game that should have been some kind of animated series or something. When this game is in cutscenes it is genuinely impressive with how it handles the conflict of the characters, well the characters who actually have compelling problems that you need to solve by Psychonaut-ing it into their heads. What do I mean? Well one world is around a little girl who’s cat got hit by a car, and the event made her so scared and upset that she is now afraid of cars and streetlights because it reminds her of that tragedy. That’s relatable! Even if the game doesn’t translate that, you’re still theoretically helping a child grieve the loss of a pet! And then the other guy is some smug old fart who got beat by a rival and isn’t the champion of chess anymore. Too my knowledge the game doesn’t really scale these problems like where the problems the characters slowly become more ‘intense’. Like the first guy you help is a farmer, but I feel like the chess guy should have been first because his problem is like... dude just get over it, you’re gonna lose nobody is perfect. 

The worst part about all of this is that Square Enix told Yuji Naka he had one chance to make a platformer, and he pretty much wasted it with how this game was handled. I am pretty damn worried that Balan will be like Geno and Mallow where Square just never fucking uses them again, maybe not AS bad as Geno and Mallow but in that similar ballpark

It really does kinda suck, my guys. I just wanted a cool game with a funky clown-looking dude, man!!!

[weirdochick56]

Dress- Dean Winchester One Shot

Jealous!Dean Winchester x Plus-Size!Reader

Warnings: Self-hatred,self-doubt talks badly about self, weight, etc. PLS PLS if you’re sensitive to this please don’t read!

Word Count:  5,155 words

Disclaimer: I don’t own any SPN characters/plots mentioned.

Summary: “I don’t want you like a best friend Only bought this dress so you could take it off” (Loosely based on the song “Dress” by Taylor Swift.)

*

It shouldn’t hurt this much right?

To watch something that was never yours to begin with get taken away from you, that was.

It shouldn’t feel like someone was stabbing a dozen daggers into your chest all at once then twisting it around once it was well and sunk inside your skin. It shouldn’t.

You have to know by now; Dean Winchester would only ever belong to you in your dreams.

A man like him- tall, gorgeous, charming- would never go for someone like you.

If he hadn’t done so during the many years he’d known you why would he start now?

That slender, big-chested, perky blonde on the other hand- she was exactly the kind of woman he’d go for.

And the way he looked at her, gripped onto her protruding hips and gazed at her glossy lips- it was more than obvious how much he wanted to get her into his bed.

You had spent years wishing that was you. Wishing those rough hands would hold you like that, that those sparkling emerald eyes would ravage you hungrily.

Unfortunately, not only did Dean only see you as a little sister, but you were the farthest thing from his type.

With a sharp inhale, you force yourself to look away from the heinous scene unfolding before you, even when it took nearly all your strength to do so.

Because you couldn’t tear your eyes away from how easily her body curved in that skin tight red dress, the way her long legs seemed to go on for miles in those heels...and then comparing her utter perfection to your own body- only to come up short.

You were always too fat. Your curves were always too aggressive, too vuloptuous and out of control.

Not to mention, you could never pull off a dress like that. You knew this which is why you stuck to baggy jeans, and big t-shirts and flannels.

It was what you felt comfortable in, after all.

Never pretty- you don’t remember the last time you’ve felt pretty, but that was why comfort was what really mattered to you.

Without noticing it, your eyes fill to the brim with tears when you peek back at them and realized the way Dean’s hand fit so neatly in her tiny wasp-like waist, plump pink lips tilted upwards into a tiny smirk as he stares her down with hunger.

You never even stood a chance, did you?

When the sinking feeling settles in you at the thought, like an anchor sinking to the bottom of an ocean, you suddenly get off your stool, slamming a twenty on the bar.

“I’m leaving Sammy,” you inform your best friend, trying to keep your voice from breaking.

“Y/n-“ He opens his mouth to retort something to you but one look at your face and his mouth instantly snaps shut.

You probably looked like a kicked puppy.

He offers a sympathetic little frown, looking like he wants so badly to say something but instead only nods at you without further protest.

You sniffle, shoulders sagging with the weight of your heartbreak as you trudged your way back to the dank motel you’d gotten for the night.

After a long shower and changing into a baggy shirt and shorts, you tucked yourself into your bed and began watching some TV, trying your damn hardest not to burst into tears in case the brothers came back.

This was the way it would always be.

*

Another town, another night, another hunt.

“Friggin witches man,” Dean hisses with disdain, shaking his head. “I hate them.”

You can’t help but laugh at him. “I, for one, like witches.”

Both Sam and him stare at you like you’ve grown two heads.

“...dead,” you quip with a tiny smirk, pausing right outside the motel door.

Sam chuckles, pressing the key into the slot and pushing the door open for you. “Yeah,” he agrees.

“Second that, sweetheart,” Dean sighs out with a soft smile, ruffling your hair as he walked past you and made a beeline to the bathroom.

Your chest tightens at the tiny gesture as you pause by the door.

And once more it was made clear to you just who you were to Dean; a kid. A sister.

That’s all you’d ever be, you keep reminding your crushed hopes everytime they resurrected.

You wanted to stomp them out and keep them that way, but you just couldn’t help but let a tiny part of you hope for something more.

Despite how impossible it was for that to happen.

Sam presses a gentle kiss to your forehead when he gently pushes past you and sees your conflicted expression, rubbing your back comfortingly.

“We’re going out tonight- somewhere special to celebrate. You’re coming right?”

You shoot him a look as if to say ‘really?’.

Ever since the last time you’d seen Dean with that blonde woman, you refused to go with them to any more bars, opting to stay home in your pjs, eating ice cream and binging TV.

“No,” you instantly reject the offer.

Of course Sam knew exactly why you were refusing, but whenever Dean asked, you had to make up excuses so he wouldn’t get suspicious.

Most of the time you just acted like you were too sick or too tired from the hunt and although you could tell he was concerned for you, he fortunately never pushed for more than you were willing to give him.

“But why not?” He whines. “It’s gonna be fun I promise. Plus we get to dress up for once.”

You laugh. “You say it like I wanna dress up this whale body of mine.”

“Y/n,” he enunciates sternly. “Don’t talk like that. You’re gorgeous.”

You instantly scoff, rolling your eyes. “Okay.”

“He ain’t lying,” Deans gruff voice chides in.

A towel hangs low on his slim hips as he steps out fresh from the shower.

His tan skin glistening with fresh water, sparkling green eyes, damp dirty blond hair clinging to his forehead and that manly scent are all entirely too much for you.

“I never got why you feel the need to bring yourself down, sweetheart. You’re pretty.”

You have to force yourself to snap your gaze onto your duffel bag, aimlessly ruffling through your clothes to make yourself look busy.

“I-I’m too tired,” you manage to stammer out, trying to control your pounding heartbeat.

Dean clicks his tongue with slight irritation. “You always say that.”

“Well I am,” you insist. “Plus guys, it’s not like some fancy night club is really my scene anyways.”

Sam huffs. “Yeah, it isn’t ours either. But we deserve a night out, don’t you think?”

“You guys can go. I’ll just stay here and-“

Dean cuts you off. “And what, Y/n? Wallow in self-pity?”

“Dean,” Sam warns.

“No, Sam. I’m right and she’s knows it. Look at me, sweetheart,” he commands and acting on pure instinct, you obey.

His breathtaking gaze bores straight into you, unwavering. “You think I haven’t noticed how strange you’ve been acting lately? How you refuse to share so much as a beer with us? You’re sad and I’m worried about you,” he breathes softly.

You swallow the lump in your throat, but your brain is still unable to form anymore words. You just stare at him, watery eyed, praying to whatever will listen that the truth doesn’t burst out of you.

That you don’t blurt something like “it’s because of you dummy. Because you break my heart everytime you leave with a new set of tits. Because you could never love me the way I love you.”

Sensing your discomfort, Sam tries to diffuse the situation. “You can stay if you want to, Y/n. We understand. Right, Dean?”

Even without even looking at him, you know Sam is giving Dean a death stare.

Dean looks at you then back up at Sam, sighing. “Fine. Yeah okay.” And walks towards the bathroom to get dressed.

You instantly relax once the weight of his gaze is off you, shoulders drooping.

“Y/n. C’mon, you need to unwind. At least think about it? Look if you change your mind I texte you the address. ”

You purse your lips, staring at his puppy dog eyes. “Okay,” You whisper softly.

A little while later, the boys are all dressed up and ready to go- meanwhile you’re still in your pjs.

Dean looks absolutely scrumptious and all you want to do is rip that button off right off those broad freckled shoulders and mess up that perfectly styled spiky blonde hair.

The green-eyed five course meal pauses before you, frowning. “Not saying you don’t look good in them, but maybe a change of clothes once in a while wouldn’t hurt, sweets.”

He presses a kiss to your forehead, petting your head as he walks out.

*

You know he didn’t mean it like that with his remark.

Dean would never bring you down like that, but for some reason it still stung like a bitch.

To further confirm that you would never be the kind of woman he’d please endlessly or hell- even look twice at was something Dean probably hadn’t realized he’d done but that stuck with you for the rest of your uneventful night.

At the peak of your boredom, you start looking through old pictures of you and the brothers. The nostalgia that flooded through you at the memories nearly made you cry as you came to stop on a certain one- your favorite picture.

It was one with only you and Dean, leaning on the impala. He was staring down at you with a soft smile and made you laughed gleefully at some dumb shit he’d said.

Your chest clenches tightly at the look in his eyes. It almost looked...wistful. Like he was happy and sweet and tender but also...sad.

It was the same look you’d give him.

You gasp without noticing. What if-

No.

You stop yourself before letting your thoughts get much farther and shove the picture away.

Stop getting your hopes up Y/n.

Maybe Dean was right and it was time for a change.

Because if you were going to forget the Dean Winchester, you were gonna need a hell of a replacement and the only way to get that was to at least try to look good.

You started with your hair, curling it loosely so it fell softly over your shoulders. Then you shaved your legs and went about doing your make up.

You weren’t very good at make up, but you had watched a few you tube videos so you settled for a deep wine lipstick, a bit of a Smokey eye and some mascara. Good enough.

Next was your clothes. You didn’t have very many nice clothes, but at some point Sam had convinced you to buy a few dresses and heels along with your formal FBI suits in case you needed it in the future.

You never did which had made you extremely grateful because you didn’t feel comfortable in anything other than your baggy clothes.

“Today isn’t about comfort though,” you mutter to yourself with disdain, tugging uncomfortably on the tight black dress as it clings to your thick thighs.

You clasp on some heels, walking around a bit for practice. Your ankles bend and your knees wobble at first, but the longer you walk in them, the easier it gets.

When you feel comfortable enough, you head over to the mirror, staring at yourself.

Instantly, a wave of insecurity slams down on you. The dress left basically nothing to the imagination and you were less than pleased.

Your tummy was protruding and your thighs were basically glued together. Your stretch marks were in full view too.

Before you let the thoughts get to you too much, you stop staring at yourself and spin on your heel to walk away from it.

Not today Y/n. Not when you’re this desperate to stop caring for someone who would never care for you in the way you did.

You’re forgetting Dean remeber?

*

Needless to say, your resolve doesn’t last long once you step foot into the night club bar situation the brothers had opted for.

It immediately feels like everyone is looking at you as you nervously play with your fingers, writhing uncomfortably beneath the itchy fabric of the dress.

You already regret doing this.

It isn’t long before Sam spots you by the entrance of the semi-packed club and comes running over, eyes wide.

“Y/n,” he breathes, eyes trailing over you. “Oh.”

You scrunch you’re nose up. “It looks bad doesn’t it. I knew it did! I shouldn’t have-“

“What?!” Sam shook his head furiously. “What? No. Not at all Y/n. You just look different is all.”

You look down at yourself, pouting. “Is that bad or good?”

He throws an arm over your shoulder, tugging you to his side. “Good. Definitely good.”

You’re skeptical of his words, but follow him anyway to the bar where Dean is currently at- flirting with a perky brunette.

Your heart instantly drops, but you hide it behind a polite smile as Sam taps his brother’s shoulder.

“Dean. Look who’s here!”

Dean, looking downright annoyed, turns around, clearly ready to tear Sam a new one for interrupting his current rendezvous.

“Sam what- sweetheart,” the nickname falls from his lips like a curse. Like a “fuck!” Or “holy shit!”, except it’s quiet, breathless.

His mouth snaps shut when those eyes land on you, timidly standing beside Sam.

His eyes widen and his lips part as he inhales sharply. And then his eyes are flying everywhere at once, taking in your full figure with a slack jaw.

You shyly smile. “Hey, D.”

He doesn’t say anything, just stares at you and you instantly grow insecure thinking maybe it’s because of how ugly you look.

Was he so shocked to see you being “brave” by showing off your huge body like that?

“...Dean?” You hesitate.

He finally snaps out of it, shaking his head. “Y/n.” He swallows thickly, smiling warily.

Geez. That bad?

You excuse yourself to go to the bathroom, desperate to leave their judging faces.

In your halphazard attempt to run away, you accidentally bump into someone, nearly knocking both of you on the floor. You topple to the side in your tall heels, letting out a tiny yelp. 

Without hesitation, two big hands watch you by your arms, steadying you. 

“Be careful there sweetness,” his southern accent is thick as sweet molasses and it instantly attracts your eyes to his dark brown ones. 

You flush with embarassment when you realize how cute he is. “Oh my God! I am so sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

He lets out a bemused chuckle. “It’s quite alright, hun.”

You smile up at him bashfully, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Thanks.” 

And with that, you start to walk away from him. He stops you before you can get too far, gripping onto your forearm firmly. 

“Wait.” 

You look cautiously at where his hand was and he quickly takes it away, laughing nervously. “Sorry. I just- I hope I’m not being too forward. You’re beautiful.” 

You raise your brows in disbelief almost instinctively, blushing madly. “Me?” you blurt incredulously. 

He laughs fully this time. “Yeah. You. Come sit with me?”

You glance over your shoulder at where the brothers were, immersed in flirty conversations with pretty women and decide why the hell not. 

So you nod at him affirmitively with a tiny smile. “Sure.”

It wasn’t long before you were laughing full-heartedly at the man, James. He was genuinely funny and cute and for whatever reason, seemed taken by you. I mean, you couldn’t possibly fathom why. 

But the more time passed with the easy banter, the more you drank and the less you worried about well, anything. 

“You wouldn’t like me in real life. I’m not like this usually,” you confess, taking sip of your matini when he compliments you once again. 

He raises a brow. “Oh? I highly doubt that. But tell me, miss Y/n, what do you usually wear?”

You lean forward, smirking confidently. (Yeah the alcohol was getting to you.)

“Well for starters, the baggiest shirts. The biggest jeans. The oldest flannels,” you lean back, laughing loudly. 

“You still look gorgeous probably.” 

You can’t help but giggle at his remark, touching his arms for a second. “Oh, James!” 

Who even are you right now? Giggling...flirting..

You weren’t used to any of this. So when he places a gentle hand on your thigh you freeze, unable to react any other way because you’d never gotten this kind of attention. 

He smirks. “Wanna head back to my place? Keep the party goin’?” 

You open your mouth to answer but are cut off by another voice- gruff and angry. 

“I don’t think so, buddy,” the deep voice bites.  

Your head snaps up and you see Dean, flaring deep green eyes glaring holes into the hand which was still nestled neatly on your thigh. 

“Take your hand off her before I make sure you don’t have one at all,” he husks without even looking at either of you. 

James instantly retracts his hand, looking between you two with his brows furrowed. 

Dean doesn’t let either of you say anything before he’s yanking you off your chair by your arm. 

“We’re leaving,” he informs grumpily, leaving no room for protesting of any kind. 

Then he’s yanking you along behind him, rough fingers wrapped tightly around your forearm as he carelessly pushes people out of his way. 

“Dean-” you whine, struggling to keep up with his long and angry strides in your heels and intoxicated state. 

He doesn’t stop until you’re standing before baby and you physically have to rip your arm from his hold.

You’re absolutely fuming at this point.

Who the fuck did he think he was, pulling you out of there like that?

“What the hell, Dean?!?” You wrap your arms around yourself to protect your exposed skin from the cool night breeze. 

He doesn’t turn around to look at you, but his voice says it all when he speaks. “Get in the car, Y/n.”

He’s one-hundred percent serious. And done. So so serious and done, in fact, that his voice wavers with the weight of his stern. 

And if it weren’t for the fact that you desperately wanted answers or the fact that you were buzzed enough to be able to ignore his fury, you might’ve let it go. 

Unfortunately, neither was currently the case. 

“No. You had no right! James was-”

“Oh, James!” He exclaims, throwing his hands up sarcastically. “Is that his name!?”

You reeled back from his harsh tone, frowning. “What the fuck is wrong with you Dean? You’re acting completely irrational.”

“Nothing is wrong with me, Y/n. Absolutely nothing,” he grits out with a wry smile. 

“I’m going back inside.” You shake your head at him. 

He laughs bitterly. “And I’m the one acting irrational! That- that ass just had his hand on your thigh and you just let him. Oh. And now you’re going back inside to do what? Continue letting him feel you up?”

“And what’s so fucking wrong with that?!” You yell back, frustrated by his hurtful words. 

What was he insinutating? That you were easy? And anyway, what did he care? 

He pauses for a split-second before answering in a venomous snap. “Everything! You’re...” he trails off abruptly. 

“I’m what, Dean?” you growl, stepping closer to him. 

You licks his lips, inhaling sharply. “You’re-” he falters, softening for only a split second. “Just get in the car, sweetheart” he demands once more this time more quietly, apple green eyes shimmering under the dim street lights. 

But you refuse to back down. “No. Tell me what the hell your problem is or I go back inside.”

He let’s out a yell, slamming a hand on the hood of the car and leaning his forehead against it. “Dammit!”

You jolt, startled. He stays there for a few more seconds, back heaving with his audibly labored breaths, 

You’re afraid to touch him right now, so you just speak in a soft comforting tone. “Dean. Just talk to me. Why are you acting like this?” 

He sighs, slowly turning around to face you. He looks pissed. 

“You really wanna know why I’m acting like this?” You go to say yes but before you can, he’s cutting you off. “It because of you,” he growls. 

“Me?”

“Yes, you, Y/n. W-with your fucking tight little dress and your heels.” He motions loosely to you, jaw clenched and tight fists by his side. “Flaunting that ass around like-like you wanted James and every damn douchebag in there to fucking come up to you!” He spits the name out like it’s vile in his mouth and you flinch at his accusatory, disgusted tone.

Why the hell was he blaming you for something like that? It made no sense.

You raise your brows, shocked and hurt. “Oh, so because for one night I’ve decided to do what you suggested and actually got some male attention you’re acting like a little bitch?! What the hell is so wrong with that, exactly, Dean? You do this shit all the time, and you don’t see me giving you shit about it!”

He huffs, rolling his eyes and muttering, “It’s different with me.”

You bark out a laugh. “Different how?”

His jaw flexes. “I’m not a kid, for starters!”

You let out an incredulous sound, looking at him like he was out of his damn mind. “I’m not a kid Dean! When are you going to get that? There’s no need to act like a protective ass. I can damn well take care of myself.”

“I’ll get it when you stop acting like some sleazy hooker,” he snaps, green eyes flaring a darker, sinister shade.

You instantly stop, freezing at his words. As if realizing what he’s just said, Dean’s face drops.

He tries to grip your shoulder. “Y/n-“ but you aggressively shove him off of you, holding back tears.

“You’re a dick, Dean.”

He frowns apologetically. “Sweetheart I didn’t mean to-“

“I’m going home Dean. Alone.”

And with that, you spin on your heel and start making your way back to the motel.

*

Five minutes don’t pass of you first getting inside the motel before you hear the sound of the impala’s engine pulling up.

And suddenly the door is being thrown open, startling even your bones.

Then, before you can even react, Dean is standing in the doorway, chest heaving.

“Dean-“

“It’s because I was jealous,” he blurts as soon as he sees you.

“What?”

He doesn’t say anything as he runs a hand through his hair, stepping into the dark room and closing the door behind him.

The tiny ‘click’ of the door closing is defeaning against the tense silence now settled in the four of five feet between you two.

He licks his lips the way he always does when he’s nervous, cautiously look up at you. “I was jealous of James,” he repeats, the confession quiet but more powerful than if he would’ve screamed it because the raw emotion and sincerity were in clear display.

You don’t know what to say for the first few seconds after he speaks and so many thoughts are spinning around in your head.

“Dean I know I’m like your little sister and you’re protective of me but I’m fully capable of-“

“I know you are,” he mumbles, looking at you with a strange glint in his eyes- something new and unfamiliar. “That’s not...” he inhales deeply, searching around in his head for the right words. “I wasn’t jealous of you as a....sister.”

Still bewildered, you step a bit closer to him. “Dean, what are you trying to say?”

He groans, chuckling softly. “Are you really going to make me say it?”

Silently, he strides up to you, closing the remaining distance between you two. His hands creep up, gripping your face between them like he’d done so many times before, except this time it felt...different.

The air around you cackled with an unspoken electrifying emotion, his fingers felt like pure fire against your skin and you did it understand what exactly was about to happen but it felt like Ike you were on the verge of something big.

You gaze up at him through your lashes, questioningly.

He smiles, swiping his thumb over your cheek. “You look absolutely beautiful tonight sweetheart. Did I tell you that?”

Your breath hitches and you can’t help but blush madly. “I-I thought you didn’t like it,” you stammer out the admission, scared of his reaction.

He chuckles and his warm breath warms your skin. “Of course I do. You’re stunning. I just don’t want...other guys to see it.” He winces at his confession.

You laugh- not because it’s funny but because you’re nervous and all you can do is laugh.

He turns serious. “I’m sorry for the way I talked to you, sweetheart. I just-“ he purses his lips, pausing. “I hated seeing his hands on you. I hated the fact that he made you laugh in that way the makes your head go back and your eyes glimmer. I hated his stupid accent and his dumb hair because I knew you’d find it adorable. And fuck, I hated that he could give you everything I never could or will be able to,” he lets out all in a few breaths.

You just stare up at him, tears building up in your eyes, starstruck.

“I hate you,” you mutter finally.

He frowns. “Wh-“

You pound on his chest harshly, sobbing. “I hate you. I hate you. I hate you! How could you!”

You try to get your hands on him ever after he’s easily grabbed your wrists, wriggling aggressively.

“Sweetheart! Calm down. What the hell are you on about?!”

You settle for a second, warm tears rolling down your face and easily answer him because he was being a complete and utter jackass right now.

“The fact that you’d lie to me because you pity me makes you a cruel, vile human being Dean Winchester.”

He instantly shakes his head at you, eyes sad. “I’m not saying it because I pity you, sweets. Why would you even think that?”

You laugh bitterly, pointing to yourself. “Well, isn’t it obvious? I’m fat!”

At your words, something clicks in him and he’s suddenly titling your head up to meet his perfect green eyes.

“Y/n, I need you to listen to me very carefully right now okay? You are and will forever be the goddamn most beautiful thing that asshole God has put on this earth. If there is anything I have to thank him for it’s you. Don’t you understand?” He pleads quietly.

You don’t know how you manage to work around your erratically beating heart or the fact that Dean is so close and he smells so much like him, but through the huge lump in your throat you manage to stutter something along the lines of “understand what?”

“That I have to hold myself back from moving my lips from just a few inches away your cheek or your forehead to your lips and kissing the living hell out of you every damn time I touch you. That I love everything about you, even the bad things. Especially the bad things because really, they’re all good.” He laughs breathlessly. “That I wake up and go to sleep with that sweet smile on my mind. That I would do anything to keep it on that pretty face of yours. That I fuck anything with legs imagining that it’s you I’m sinking into. That all I want- no. All I need and fucking ache for every damn day I spend with and without you is the feel of your skin and the softness of your voice.” He swallows thickly, whispering. “That I am so hopelessly in love with someone I can never have.”

You close your mouth after a few long stretched out seconds of having it open. You don’t know what to say at first, still trying to process the emotion in his voice and the sincerity in his eyes and the sudden jolt of electricity shocking your entire body to your very core.

All the same, Dean is looking at you with a terrified expression, holding his breath.

Then, you speak.

“You can have me.”

He looks relieved at first, but then he turn wistful, brushing a strand of hair away from your face and behind your ear, lingering with his fingertips on your cheek for a few seconds.

“I couldn’t do that. You’re so young and we’ve been practically raised together. I couldn’t.”

“But you could!” You protest, chest clenching. “For as long as I can remember, Dean, you’re all I’ve ever wanted.” You bite your lip, placing a tender hand over his chest. “You’re all I need,” you finish in a breathless whisper, leaning against his touch.

You hear him breathe in shakily before he abruptly takes his hand off you and answers in a quiet, regretful tone. “I can’t.”

His words are like another stab to your chest and before you know what you’re doing-

“Fine. But don’t try to stop me from finding someone who can.” 

You angrily walk towards the door, but before you can so much as lay a finger on the door knob, Dean’s own hand is shooting out, grabbing  your elboe tightly. And then he;s yanking you back. 

“The hell you are,” he growls, crushing his mouth onto yours roughly.

The kiss is enough to freeze you in your tracks and everything stops moving for a split second as you take in the feeling of his lips on yours, hard enough to bruise. 

Your eyes flutter shut and you suck in a sharp breath, melting in to his touch as his fingertips glide into your hair, tugging at it gently. You moan lightly into his mouth as it slants over yours, deepening the kiss. 

His tongue is warm and wet and silky and he tastes like liquor and apple pie and it leaves you breathless for a minute. You drown in his scent of leather and cologne, kissing back with just as much passion, holding onto his neck and shoulders in order to remain upright because your knees are about to give out beneath you. 

The kiss happens in a flurry of heat and passion and anger and ends with unimaginable sweetness. 

You peer up at him, chest heaving. 

“Dean?” your voice trembles. 

He smiles softly. “I love you and I’ll be damned if I let you go running to some other man.”

You laugh unbelievingly. “Really? Y-you love me?”

He nods instantly. “Of course.” Suddenly, he smirks. 

“What?”

“Nothing, I’m just glad you wore that dress.”

***

[copias-thrall]

Uhhhh okay so,, papa II with his S/O never having had sex before and they’re kind of nervous?? But he comforts them,,? Please I have a need

I am here to fulfill that need, nonny. Fluffy Secondo coming right up!

You were officially Papa’s.

Not that there was ever a question—not since, as a fresh recruit, you’d witnessed him perform “Body and Blood” in his full skull paint and vestments—that one day he’d own you.

Most of your fellow Siblings seem to have a hard on for his younger brother—and a good amount are devoted to The Rat. But your heart (and loins) belong only to the man with the “bitter” reputation.

It had taken some subtle manipulation to get yourself onto his duty roster for his wing of the Abbey—and then some not-so-subtle bribes to get yourself into his chambers for chores—but it had all been worth it when one day he’d leaned back in his chair and asked you if you’d be willing to do some work after hours.

Papa had wined and dined you; ever the gentleman, he’d kept his hands to himself, but had let his mouth run free as he quietly talked about all the filthy things he’d like to do to you if you were his pet. Your body had felt every single promise he made. When he’d summoned you to his office the next day and slapped down his contract in the empty space in front of you, you’d realized he’d been testing you the entire time—eager, but wary of how you’d react to his … predilections.

He’d encouraged you to give the document a careful read through on your own time and to write down any questions or concerns you had. Pleased—but slightly trepidatious about your virgin status—you’d nodded before clutching the papers to you.

It was clear you were dismissed, but your hesitation must have shown. He’d quirked his eyebrow at you as if to say, “Yes?”

“It’s just, Papa, sir …”

“Mhm?”

You’d looked down at the contract in your sweaty grasp.

“It’s just that I—I’m a-a virgin.”

Papa had gone very still for a moment, then he’d licked his lips.

“And …?”

“Well, it’s just … how do I know what I really like, and what I only think I like?”

As if someone had put a coin in his slot, the man had relaxed back into his chair—the leather creaking—his hand coming up to rest under his chin and a finger to stroke his lips.

“Not to worry, pet. You’ll find there’s an option for negotiable kinks. We can go over all of it after you’ve reviewed it in full. Sí?”

Relief had flooded you. “Yes, Papa. Thank you, Papa.”

Bowing and shuffling awkwardly backwards out his door as if he were some royal, you’d left his office.

Over the next two days, you’d poured over the papers. There were lots you knew of; some you didn’t; and a few you immediately had a hard no to—but all-in-all, nothing in the contract put you off your Papa.

When summoned once again to his office, he’d poured you a glass of iced tea and combed through the packet with you, carefully explaining when you’d had any questions or concerns. You hadn’t expected it to, but the entire thing took hours, and when the two of you were satisfied, Papa had replaced the iced tea with two-finger’s worth of top-shelf scotch.

“I am pleased, pet. Enjoy this tonight—now that you’re mine, you imbibe how and when I say.”

You had shivered in anticipation, a reaction Papa hadn’t failed to notice, and he’d sent you a look full of promise.

***

The day has come—the one you and Papa have talked about extensively. Your first scene, and also your first time; it mostly has to do with Papa being in control of you than anything really intense (he’d promised you could work up to the really hardcore stuff).

“Are you nervous, pet? I want the truth.”

You gulp. “A-a little, Papa.”

“Hmm. Let’s see what we can do.”

Papa leads you into his bathroom suite and undresses you slowly while letting his giant tub fill up. He’s still in his dress shirt with his vest and slacks, and you watch as he rolls up his sleeves right before he adds some lavender into the water. With a deliberate pull to each finger, he removes his leather gloves, and you delight in the feel of his bare fingers on your skin as he methodically divests you of all your garments. Then, with a firm grip on your hand, he helps you into the bath.

“How is that? Not too hot?”

You ease down into a sitting position. “It’s perfect, Papa.”

He lights a few candles that have previously served their purpose. Then he kneels on the plush bath mat, and takes up your arm, his fingers kneading into your muscles.

“See this arm? This arm belongs to me.” Papa brings your arm up and kisses your hand. “This hand? It belongs to me.” He trails his fingertips from one shoulder to another before he starts kneading your other arm. “Ah! A matching set”

His one hand slides down your side, dipping into the water before it gives your ass a good squeeze.

“This ass is definitely mine.”

He lifts your chin up with his finger so you meet his eyes.

“Tell me, pet: do I seem like a man who is careless with his possessions?”

“Of course not, Papa!”

“So you trust me to take excellent care of you?”

“Yes, Papa.”

“Are you lying?”

“N-no, Papa!”

“Then relax, pet. Here.” His hands fly to your temples and start massaging there, “Now: listen to me. Unclench your jaw.” You do. “Untense your shoulders.” You let them drop. “Let your limbs meld into the tub, there you go.”

A few more commands and you really do feel like your body could become one with the spotless porcelain. Papa works his hands down your body—starting with your neck and ending with each foot—kneading your muscles until he’s satisfied that they’re jelly (you letting out a quiet gasp as he briefly teases between your legs).

By the time Papa finishes turning you into a sentient blob, the water is lukewarm bordering on cold.

“Better?”

You crack your heavy lids open at him. “Mmm … yes, Papa.”

He holds out a fluffy towel for you to step into. Careful not to slip as you get up, you leave the bathtub with a slosh of water. Papa immediately wraps the towel around you and starts rubbing you dry, and you laugh at his vigorous attentions.

“Tsk. Can’t have you catching a chill, now can we, hmm?”

He wraps you in a silk robe before pulling his gloves back on, and—upon a tilt of his head—you follow him out into his bedchambers. He helps you up onto the bed before crawling over you to rest on his side next to you.

He reaches for something he’d left on a pillow. He holds it out, and you see it’s a red, silk tie. Heart pumping, you watch as his free hand skims down your chest then pushes apart the ends of the robe, exposing your flushed skin.

“This is not so scary, is it, pet?” he hums as he runs the fabric in tight serpentines down your bare skin. The sensation of the slinky material has your flesh goosepimpling.

“No, Papa.”

He lifts up your one arm and circles the tie around your wrist a few times before pulling it free.

“And how did that feel?”

“Soft.”

He takes your wrist and leads your hand down to bulge now tenting his slacks.

“And this?”

You gently palm his erection, and your blood quickens.

“Well, pet … is it so scary?”

“No, Papa,” you practically whisper.

Your heart is pounding, but it’s now it’s from anticipation.

He leans down and kisses you gently on the lips.

“What’s your color?”

“Green, Sir.”

His solicitous look darkens into something more dangerous, and he gathers up more silk ties.

“All right. Let’s begin. Safeword?”

[needletail]

Nintendogs vs Nintendogs + Cats: a review and comparison.

There’s no doubt that most people want a new Nintendogs game for the Nintendo Switch. But when I see these posts, very few of them are referencing the 3ds variant of the game, but rather the original ds version that everyone continues to know and love.

The addition of cats is Nintendogs + Cats’ most notable feature. It was, while cute and fun for a short period of time, notably worse than its predecessor. But why is that? The formula stayed roughly the same, but the charm didn’t quite hit.

Before we dive into this: these are my opinions on the games, and personal comparisons. Every person experiences things differently, and will likely have different opinions.

We can start with breaking down the original Nintendogs. The graphics have not aged well, but the charm and entertainment factor have. While replaying, I found that the general ambience and the music used endeared me further to the game, and I wanted to play more. The half hour timer on going for walks was frustrating (as was the stamina system), but it otherwise engaged me more to figure out where I wanted to go. The map feels surprisingly big with so much to do, and the side-scrolling walk screen keeps the mystery alive in what you’ll encounter. The competitions were fun and the voice recognition system may have been even better than the 3ds incarnation. The only thing that really suffered were the graphics - but this game is 15 years old and this was advanced for its time, so we can let that slide. The dogs can be a little strange to look at at times, but they’re expressive and distinct, which is what matters in a pet simulator.

The information you can take in is optional, but an exciting part of the game for those who are interested. Your dog’s profile is detailed but easy to understand, going as far as to tell you what it ate last. There’s something so charming about it being displayed as if it were a document you had in front of you - it brings another element of immersion into this sim.

[Image ID: a photograph of the informational sheet on Nintendogs. It includes the name, gender, breed, trainer, time together, coat, hunger, thirst, and things eaten. The trick list and contest results are also on this screen.] 

From cars passing by to horns in the distance and dog barks from somewhere vaguely nearby, the sound design of Nintendogs is audibly aged, but still strong. The few tracks spread in the game are iconic, and stay in my head a lot longer than I’d like to admit. 

The competitions are another huge highlight of the original nintendogs. The banter between the hosts, Ted and Archie, is something that continues to be remembered. Everyone’s seen the line “you make me feel like a man, Archie”, and the banter they keep up in each competition is less like a mindless tapping chore and just more entertainment. The settings are surprisingly realistic - less so on the obedience, but the ring set up for agility certainly is. The balance between realism and fun is another part of why Nintendogs appealed to all audiences. 

Agility is my personal favourite event, and the same goes for a lot of people I’ve met. There’s a level of interactivity here that isn’t met by the successor (something we’ll touch on later). Guiding your dog over hurdles and through tunnels, and later having to balance speed with accuracy - it’s an event that keeps you, the player, engaged. It becomes a sort of fine art once you hit the Championship level, as your dog, by that point, is likely going to be very fast and have a mind of its own, often trying to predict which obstacles it’s going to go through. 

[Image ID: an angled photograph of the starter agility training course. The dog is laying on the green, and the hurdles and tunnels are in view.] 

Disc is in both versions, and is fun in its own way. I, personally, don’t tend to use the disc competition - in the original Nintendogs, the projectiles can be a little speedier than you intend them to be, and the dogs are a little too determined to hold onto their toys. But, with a well-trained dog, this event can be as fun as anything else. In the original, you didn’t have to contend with the other dogs - something that I’ve grown to appreciate over the years. But, like with the event that removed Agility, I’ll be looking at how the changes fared later. 

Obedience is held on a stage, and is a fun event for people who take the time to train their dogs. Your dog can typically learn three or four tricks a day (depending on the dog), and between the tricks listed in the Obedience Guide Book and the unlisted tricks that your dog can learn, you can usually blow the competition out of the park. It definitely requires the most time and effort out of all of the events, and it can be frustrating if your dog suddenly stops listening - but the rewards are surprisingly good. It’s always fun to have a well-trained Nintendog, if only because showing them off when I was a child was my favourite thing to do. 

Obviously, competitions are the main money-makers in these games. Tackle a solid few of them, and you’ll find yourself able to afford another dog or two. Though your room is limited to three dogs, there’s also a Hotel to keep some other dogs in. As time progresses and you gain more of a bond with your dog(s), you’ll unlock more breeds. 

Something that went over my head when I was a child was the method to unlock Jack Russells, specifically. You need to find an incredibly rare book - something which I don’t ever recall doing, and still haven’t. I found this information via the wikia, so I’m not too sure how accurate is, but it is an interesting breed to lock behind a time and patience-based method. 

[Image ID: an angled image of a German Shepherd laying on its side. In the corner is an idea bubble.] 

Overall, Nintendogs is a solid and fun pet simulator, and it’s clear why so many people have such good memories. The dogs are filled with personality (even being expressive enough to show you when they’re angry vs happy), the competitions are engaging, and though the format will become stale after playing daily for a long time, it’s always a fun game to come back to after a period of time. 

Which is why it’s unsurprisingly that it gained a sequel.

I remember being ecstatic when Nintendogs + Cats was shown in advertisements on television. When I got the 3ds, I also got a copy of Nintendogs + Cats. The Golden Retriever version, specifically, but I do own all three. For some reason? As people got bored with it, they usually gifted me them. 

At first blush, it’s almost as charming as the original. The graphics style handles much better than the original, with slightly more realistic movements, and less cardboard-y models. I much prefer the Nintendogs + Cats models to the originals, for obvious reasons - though their movements can be a little repetitive and strange at times, and a lot less expressive than the originals. But that said, I much prefer the Kennel system of petting and exploring the dogs and their behaviours (limited as they are) before you adopt, and I enjoy sorting through colours or getting unique colours/patterns. The rare white variants used to be my obsession, as a child. 

[Image ID: a german shepherd holding a present in Nintendogs + Cats. The model is significantly better than the original Nintendogs model.] 

Immediately, though, there’s a lot less ambience in Nintendogs + Cats. I play with my volume up all the way, and it’s typically just my dogs and cat making noises. I miss the cars going by and the general background noise that the game can provide. It feels just a little too silent, and the music tracks are repetitive and unmemorable for the most part. Obviously sound design don’t make or break the game, so I won’t harp on this point for too long. 

The gameplay is...fine? I’m not a fan of petting a shadow of my dog, but I understand they did that for 3D purposes (something which most people didn’t use, to the point that the 2DS was made. I play on a 2DS). The camera control is an incredibly nice feature to have, the showering minigame is a little more thorough. They didn’t really add anything to the care features, though. If anything, they took away a lot of experiences - reading the care books and instead guiding you through the tricks one by one instead of as you want, forcing you to learn a specific set of tricks before you can move on to the next ones. The game is far more hand-holdy, which can be frustrating at multiple points. But, hey. There’s cats! Let’s talk about the cats. 

What’s their purpose? Not much. Which is fine, although they take up a slot in your three-pet designation. As cute as the cats are, they definitely got done dirty. There’s three selections to choose from (Standard, Oriental, and Long-hair), with multiple colours, but not much depth beyond that. Obviously, the cats were just a cute addition - I do like having my little cat wandering around the house with my two dogs, and I know from past experiences that once you bond with the cat, it’ll go out and get presents for you if you leave your ds on. Gaining affection with the cats is very slow-going and if you’re someone who likes your pet simulations to be more interactive, it might be wiser to stick with the dogs. I’m not complaining against the addition of cats - it just could’ve been done much smoother, with better mechanics enabled. Be it adding some breeds and a proper grooming minigame to maintain them, or the ability to train them but have them be much harder than the dogs. There were many ways to put cats into the game, and I just don’t think they hit as intended. 

So, how did they do with the competitions? Well. 

The short answer: they’re pretty bland, and a downgrade from the original.  The long answer... 

[Image ID: a white cocker spaniel chewing on a banana lure.] 

In the competitions, there’s no more Ted/Archie banter. It’s just Ted. Doing his thing. I honestly do not read the text for this game, and instead tap quickly to progress to the events. 

Replacing Agility comes Lure Coursing. I’m not sure about other countries, but that’s an incredibly niche section of dog sporting here, and it’s also notorious for being...very boring. And in the game, it lives up to that. Instead of guiding your dog through obstacles, you wind the cog of a lure and honk it to get the dog to follow it. Sometimes you honk it to get them over hurdles. I have to admit, I usually space out when I’m training my dogs with this - it’s an easy moneymaker once you’ve trained them up to Nintendogs Cup level, but it’s easily the most mind-numbing event. Anything would’ve been better. If they didn’t want to implement Agility, there are other dog sports that could’ve suited well; guiding your dog through the Flyball course and using its name to bring it back until it could do it on command (maybe even utilising a team of three, for reason as to why you can have up to three dogs), or sledding, using your dog to pull a lightweight sled (on wheels) through a course in a race against other dogs (or, again, even using your trio). There could have even been scenting sport in which you teach your dog how to scent and go off to find a mark, or herding. The point is: lure coursing is the most unengaging thing to put in a game. 

The Disc competition barely changes, so I won’t say much. I don’t particularly enjoy having the other dogs in the ring to compete with as it becomes all too easy for them to interfere heavily with your own dog, but I understand why it was implemented and know that a lot of people enjoy it. I prefer the throwing speed and the control you can have over the disc, and will admit that overall, the Disc competition is generally improved. 

But then you come to the Obedience Trial. AR Cards are mandatory. You don’t have a surface to put your AR Cards on, or lost them years ago? Then you can’t do it. I actually ordered AR Cards, having thrown out my old ones due to damages and general...lack of use. As of this post, I have been unable to play the Obedience Trial, so I can’t say much on whether the system has improved. I do know that AR Cards can work on a laptop screen or something similar, but the 3ds camera is pretty horrible and can glitch out, making it unreliable for screen-based AR cards. Unfortunately. 

[Image ID: a white cocker spaniel standing on an AR Card.]

The walking system is fine. I love being able to go to different routes (as limited as they can be - but the original was no saint to repetitiveness once you knew the whole map), and I like having to go between grass patches, with a chance for a surprise present. I think the addition of the BARC stores are a cute touch, and the Miis walking their own dogs are cute, too. The interactions between your dog and theirs is based on your dog’s personality as well as theirs, which makes sense - but there’s basically three outcomes. More than the original, but meeting with other dogs tends to be to see if you can backtrack when you’re near the end of the walk by having them invite you to the cafe or park, or to get presents from Streetpass miis. I like the cone minigame to test your control over the dog and its leash, and as a rule, I just...like it. It’s relaxing. I don’t prefer it over the original, but I don’t prefer the original over it. They both have their benefits and downfalls. The biggest upside to + Cats’ system is that you can take your dog on as many walks as you want. 

Interactivity isn’t really a thing, with + Cats. Whereas in the original you could legitimately piss off your dog and it would bark and snarl at you for a while before you regained its trust, this game doesn’t punish you for much. I poked and prodded at my dog for a while, and it didn’t really do much for me. This is a game where you sort of just have cute looking models that hold up surprisingly well for their time, and that’s it. There’s not much game to the game, as it were - and that’s from a game where the gameplay was limited as it was. 

Adding multiple accessories to your pets is a very nice addition, albeit expected. Overall, though, the gameplay has been significantly dumbed down and while I understand that kids play it, my generation played Nintendogs as small children and we got by just fine. It’s a very intuitive game, and it’s almost insulting how little Nintendogs + Cats thinks of its audience. 

Another nice addition to Nintendogs + Cats, though, is body type for your pets. There’s a few that your pet can be: underfed, skinny, optimal, plump, and overfed. I usually have optimal dogs, but apparently plump and overfed dogs run slower and as such they do poorer in competitions, which is a pretty neat feature to have in-game. 

In the short of it, Nintendogs + Cats is fine, but Nintendogs (the original) is Good. I have a lot more nostalgia for Nintendogs which may cloud my opinion, but playing it in 2020 is still fun, and I’m especially happy to play the Agility competition.

For an interactive pet simulator with fun competitions and plenty to do, Nintendogs is the way to go.  For a pretty enough game with simplistic gameplay, Nintendogs + Cats is the way to go. 

Both games have their perks, but I certainly have a clear favourite. If a Switch edition of Nintendogs ever happened, I’d much prefer the original style with some of the quality of life changes made in the successor. In the end, it’s all up to what you’re looking for in a game - but as someone who’s looking for a fun time, I’m a sucker for the originals. 

(Note: I have not played the knock-off Nintendogs for Switch, and would appreciate input on if it’s worth buying or not. Reviews are poor at best, as far as I can tell, though.) 

[hazbinextgeneration]

Into The Casino Ch3

The usual hussle n bussle of the casino made it's way around the duo as they made their way around the place. The more taller one of the two was carefully sweeping his red eyes over the crowd searching for one certain lost pup. Or should I say horse. "Are you certain you left her here?" He gave a raised brow at the cyborg who nodded. "Yeah. She was right here-" she gestured to the floor as they walked. ''-all soak 'n wet and hungrier than Disease on a hangover." He hummed and gave another turn of his head over the ever loud herd of demons. An opportunity like this shouldn't be wasted, and he certainly wasn't about to miss out on it either. It was one thing to be a rich and powerful tyrant over a small territory, but it was a whole other thing if one had something so pure and....interesting under their hold. Considering what Cyber told him about she had said...Who just claims to be sent down against their will by a god? This was too good to just let go. He knew there was something about this situation worth investigating. He turned left and stopped- Almost causing Cyber to walk into him. She gave him a confused sideways glance just as one of those curled smiles formed on his face, and his body maneuvered to the right.

"It seems-" He smirked at the sight of the pale blonde and white mass of hair and the horn sticking up from it standing in the corner of the slot machine corner. She would've been hard to spot at first if you didn't look hard enough like he was, luckily he's always had a nack for finding grand opportunities. "I've found our little pet.~ Cyber, come along." He ordered her as he began walking straight towards the unsuspecting girl. Being the taller and owner of the casino, it was fairly easy for them to maneuver through the crowd and over towards the corner of noisy machines. She didn't seem to notice them at first as she was giving the machine closest to her a curious look at the pictures spun around again, she was probably wondering how they even worked, until her ear raised and her head turned towards them. Instantly she stood up in instinct to bolt but instead ended up just freezing on the spot when she spotted the smaller demon. Maybe it was because she recognized Cyber or the fact that 2 demons were standing between her and the exit, but she didn't move when they came to stand in front of her. Her face was frozen in a state of uncertainty and scared curiousity. "Greetings.~ Apologies for the sudden intrusion, '' He held out a red clawed hand out to her and smiled ''-but I couldn't help but find the story you told Cyber here-" He quickly nodded towards her "-very interesting." She didn't say anything and just glanced between the two.....Before a sudden look of realization came over her. Then sudden regret as she stared at him. "You...Oh my god! I-I'm so sorry! I-I didn't mean t-to.." Her stomach sank as she realized exactly who was actually talking to her. She knew tripping up would cause later problem. She went to apologize again but he cut her off when he held up his hand. "If it's about the tail stepping incident, then you have nothing to worry about. Everyone makes mistakes. That's why we're all down here after all." He chuckled making her give a confused look before bringing his hand back to examine his red claws. "Actually I'm quite happy you did. I probably wouldn't have seen you otherwise." "If..y-you're not mad," she asked slowly shuffling back, ''-then why are you cornering me?" He raised a brow and gave her probably the most dark smirk she'd ever seen since-...Yeah. Better not bring that up. "I happen to be one to have an eye for great opportunities. And believe me when I say that I never miss a chance to better business-" "What does that have to do with me?" She backed up even more. There was no way she was going to become someone else's showpony. "I-I don't have anything on me." She gestured to her body's lack of pockets. New Plan. Make herself as less desirable as possible! "I don't have money, or anything valuable. Y-You're wasting your time-" "I think you're mistaken." He cut her off again and chuckled. "I'm not here to rob you, I'm here to offer you the chance of a lifetime.~" She stared blankly at him for what seemed like a full minute before saying the typical 'What?' he was expecting. He laughed and took a few steps towards her. "Maybe I should be more specific. You see-" An arm snaked around her and pulled her to his side as he spoke. She froze. "I usually never do this, but you are a very special exception.~ You see. I'm always on the look out for...useful and hardworking people for my business. And once I saw you..Heh. Well I knew you'd be useful to me in someway, and after what Cyber told me about your little run in with the Goddess Life-..." His smile curled at the ends as he began stepping, guiding her towards the stairs with Cyber in tow. "The Goddess of all plant life. Well that just sealed the deal for me. But what do think Ms.-...?" "A-..Amalfia," she squeaked out. She looked over her shoulder at Cyber but she just shrugged and nodded back at the taller demon. "I don't think I really know w-what you're t-talking about? W-What job?" He barked a laugh making her flinch. "Well, there's plenty of things you could do." He gazed up and rubbed two red claws together in thought. "Maid, cook, dishwasher-...Maybe a waitress? But I think I'm in need of a more....personal assistant-" "Personal assistant?" "Basically you'll be my everything and take care of things I don't have time to do. Taking care of my personal quarters and items, bringing me food- Do you know how to organize paperwork?" She was confused by this but nodded, one of the things she picked up on from being around a paper pushing father. "Excellent! I think you'll fit the role perfectly!" "So...Basically you want me as a secretary and personal house cleaner? Why wo-?" "I know this is quite out of the blue, but I assure you I pay very well.~" They finally stopped walking and stopped in front of the stairs as demons kept walking around them. "I think you would find the pay good." His arm unhooked from around her as he turned to stand in front of her. "And not just that. Three meals a day, clean clothes, a roof over your head, plenty of utensils at your disposal-...How about it?" She stood there gapping like a goldfish sputtering random squeaks and noises that sounded like almost words as the taller demon continued to stare at her. "If you have any doubts, you can ask Cyber any questions. All of my employees are satisfied with their pay." "I-I-....A-Absolutely n-" "Absolutely? Wonderful!" A hand grabbed hers as he shook her hand with that giant smile. "I assure that you'll find everything here to your delight. Cyber will show you to your new room and...Cyber." He looked behind her shoulder at the smaller demon. "Make sure she gets cleaned up and dry. Can't have my new employee coming down with the flu from that nasty rain now. Report back to me when she's all settled." The unicorn being gave them a blank look as Cyber gently grabbed her arm and began to lead her away from the taller demon. "Sure, Boss. C'mon. I have a nice room in mind for ya." ============================================= "I don't see why you had to interrupt me from my work. I thought you would have something better to do." The plant demon sighed and reached a hand up to rub his temples to rub at the already bad headache starting to form from trying to explain this situation again to her. Someone wrapped their arm around the frowning woman pulling her against his side with a purr. "Nah. He just wants some info, Honey.~ And we both know how much you love researching weird magic things." A hand pushed his face back a bit and he gave off a small growl. "That's true..." "She's not some new toy for you to dissect, Midnight." He scowled at her making his point perfectly clear. "I just want to know what I should expect from her." She gave off a huff and turned from the snake's hold to a shelf to the right. Her hand hovered over a few covers before stopping at one, pulling it out and giving it a quick look over, and blowing the dust off it. She paid no mind to the two males coughing and opened the book. Skimming through a couple pages before stopping and raising a brow. "Unicorn....Being of purity. Last known living one spotted in 1922. Rumored miracle maker with the spiraled horn on their heads which was also used by ancient medicine man and shamans to vanquish evil and ward off evil spirits. Their blood was known to be used in potions to increase their affects-" "Yes, yes," He pushed impatiently, "That's all very well. But is there any benefits for me keeping her under check." Her brow rose. "There's plenty of uses for her in here." She patted the book. "It even has a recipe for how to cook her meat to give someone immunity to fire-" "That's repulsive!" He made a disgusted face. "I don't plan on becoming a cannibal, or killing something that's worth more alive. Now what can I use to my advantage?" She groaned and looked back down to the pages. "..........Some ancient rulers were known to keep them as pets or tools for war. Their horns which were usually spiraled or curved were known to contain powerful magic similar to angelic essence which coursed through their entire being. This magic could easily be controlled by special collars but only be used if said creature was still alive and the horn was still intact to their heads." She looked back up at him. "Is this what you want?" He didn't talk for a moment and stood there. Thinking. What an opportunity.~ He smiled that dark smile of his before turning back to them. "Well. What an interesting new development.~ I think I found a more ideal purpose for our newest member.~" "Ooooh!~ Whatcha got planned Lou-y? Gonna chop off that pretty horn and use it for a paper weight?" He chuckled. "I think I have a more...useful idea in mind.~"

All characters besides Amalfia belongs to @palettepainter

[unfolded73]

Monday Morning, Seven A.M. (1/1) - schitt’s creek ff

Summary:  The morning after the first time David sleeps over at Ray's (sometime between Pregnancy Test and Asbestos Fest). Rated E, 3176 words

No point to this fic other than fluffy porn, guys. (ao3 link)

________________

Patrick doesn’t have to open his eyes to know that David is in bed with him — he can feel it in the dip of the mattress, in the soft sound of another person breathing, in the way that a body can be aware of another body close by, from the heat and the electricity of it. He smiles, so ridiculously happy that David spent the night that his lips are curving up into a wide grin before he can quite control it.

This is only the second time Patrick has woken up with David in bed with him, and the first time at Stevie’s was cut short by the abrupt realization that they either needed to throw their clothes on fast and get out of there, or risk Stevie coming back and finding them still in her bed. This time, Patrick can take the time to appreciate it. It’s Monday, and the store is closed today, so neither of them have anywhere they have to be.

He turns and opens his eyes and reaches for his phone on the nightstand to check the time: 06:47. Several hours before David would want to wake up on his day off. Patrick could probably get up and go for a hike or a jog and come back to find David still sleeping.

He started hiking early in the morning after college, not coincidentally around the same time that Rachel started routinely sleeping over at his apartment. He’d wake up next to her, warm and soft in his bed, and something told him to move, to get up, to get away. He supposes it’s a life-long habit now, to be an early riser — a good habit — but that doesn’t mean he can’t deviate from it sometimes. Like now, when the last thing he wants to do is leave this warm bed with David Rose in it.

Patrick rolls onto his side, his eyes drinking in the sight of David’s dark hair against the pillowcase. David showered the night before and let his hair air-dry, and the soft curls on top of his head are arresting. He didn’t realize David’s hair was so curly when it wasn’t styled. Reaching out, Patrick touches his hair, his fingers slipping into the soft strands as he studies David’s face in repose: dark eyelashes, dark stubble noticeably thicker than the night before, breaths slow and deep as he dreams. Patrick’s heart clenches with affection for him.

As if David can hear Patrick’s thoughts, he snuffles, his eyelids showing the movement of his eyes underneath. He smacks his lips and then rolls onto his side, away from Patrick. Wincing, Patrick pulls his hand away from David’s hair, figuring the hair petting must’ve been annoying. He tries not to take it as a personal rebuke. David probably doesn’t want to be pawed at right now, that’s all, he tells himself. He takes a moment to be relieved that David didn’t catch him watching him sleep like some kind of love-sick… something.

Then David mutters something that Patrick can’t make out.

“What?” Patrick whispers.

“Spoon me,” David slurs. Patrick isn’t sure if he’s even awake, but either way the request (demand?) is very cute. Cautiously, Patrick scoots closer, extremely aware of every point of contact between his body and David’s, even though they’re both wearing pajamas. Neither of them thought the idea of sleeping naked was a good one, not with Ray in the house.

When Patrick returned home with his overnight bag (and a radically different perspective on sex) from that night at Stevie’s, he immediately ran into Ray and his infinite curiosity for Patrick’s social life. When it became clear from Patrick’s fumbling responses that Patrick and David had spent the night in Stevie’s vacated apartment, Ray seemed genuinely hurt at the idea that they hadn’t felt comfortable sharing the bed Patrick was renting. “David is welcome to spend the night here with you anytime, Patrick,” Ray said with a pouting frown.

So here they are. Ray was out on a date the previous evening but presumably he returned home at some point, and in a few hours might begin seeing clients in the house. It occurs to Patrick that he and David should probably vacate the premises before that happens, lest they have to do a walk of shame of sorts past Ray’s latest photography client.

Still a little uncertain, Patrick snakes his arm around David’s middle, hesitantly bringing his hand to David’s chest, over his t-shirt. David puts his hand on top of Patrick’s, and that allows him to relax, pressing his chest more firmly against David’s back as they settle into this position. It’s nice. It’s more than nice. Patrick closes his eyes and presses his nose against David’s shoulder blade and inhales the scent of him. It makes him a little bit sleepy and also a little bit turned on, and he doesn’t know if he should act on either of those impulses right now.

David presses back, the round curve of his ass putting pressure against Patrick’s groin, and oh, okay, turned on is definitely winning.

“Mmm,” David hums, moving his ass with more purpose. “G’morning.”

Patrick squeezes his eyes shut, his cheeks flaming as he presses his face harder against David’s back, meanwhile shifting his hips back away from David’s ass so that his growing erection is hopefully not quite so obvious. “Morning.”

“Time is it?” David mumbles, his voice raspy.

“Almost seven.”

“What?” he replies with a whine. “Why are we awake?”

“This is when I wake up,” Patrick says, still feeling a little guilty.

“Because you’re a monster.” But David shifts back, finding Patrick’s erection again with his ass, blatantly rubbing up against him. Patrick clutches his fingers into David’s t-shirt, trying and failing to suppress a moan.

“Okay,” David says, sounding suddenly alert. “Since we’re awake anyway, I’m going to go brush my teeth, and then you should go brush your teeth, and then I suppose we can have morning sex.” He glances back at Patrick, a slanted smile on his face. “If you want.” Then without waiting for a reply, David is out of bed with a flurry of blankets. He pauses with the bedroom door open a crack, peering down the hall and looking for Ray, Patrick supposes. When David deems it safe, he leaves the room, pulling the door closed softly.

Rolling onto his back, Patrick blows out a long breath. He’s starting to wonder if he’ll ever get used to the way David makes him feel. Images of the sex they had last night, of the way David lay on top of him and rutted against him, everything between them slick and hot and perfect, fill Patrick’s mind. David was so matter-of-fact about it: “Frotting is excellent with enough lube,” he said as he flicked open the cap of the bottle he’d pulled out of his bag. “It’s underrated, frankly.” Patrick has to agree, at least based on how hard both of them came last night. He shivers at the memory, his eyes slipping closed and his hand straying below the covers to press against his hardening cock.

When David returns from the bathroom, Patrick gets up, knowing that his erection is probably obvious under his loose pajama bottoms. He doesn’t look at David, not sure if he wants to know if David notices it.

Once safely in the bathroom, he brushes his teeth and tries to think about unsexy things, willing his cock to settle down enough so that he can at least relieve himself. God, he doesn’t think his erections have been this out of control since he was a teenager. It’s infuriating and also… it’s really good. He loves being so attracted to someone that he can barely think about anything else. He loves the rush of being completely out of his mind with lust when he’s in bed with David (or occasionally, in the back room at the store). Somehow, their sexual relationship has slotted in easily with the romance and the friendship and the business partnership. He wonders if he should be worried about the fact that David is so important to him in so many ways, that he dominates his waking and sleeping hours in a way that no one ever has. He wonders how he’ll survive if it ever ends, if he has to face the black hole that David will leave with his absence.

David smiles at him when he comes back into the bedroom, and all of his worries evaporate as Patrick gets back into bed. David puts himself in Patrick’s space, waiting to be kissed, and so Patrick kisses him. He thinks about what it means as he enjoys the wet, soft press of David’s lips and tongue, that David is alert so early in the morning, just to have more time for this.

As if reading his mind, David says, “I’m not usually a morning sex person. I generally prefer sleep.”

“I appreciate that,” Patrick says with a smirk before kissing him again. God, he loves kissing David. He doesn’t even mind the beard-burn that inevitably shows up as redness on his chin from David’s course stubble.

Patrick lies back, pulling David over him, tangling their legs together as they continue to kiss.

“Mm,” David says. “I would always brush my teeth right before kissing if I could. There’s nothing better than kissing with freshly-brushed teeth.”

Chuckling, Patrick gives him a smacking kiss on the mouth. “Nothing?”

David looks up at the ceiling like he’s actually thinking about the answer. “Sex right after a shower is also very nice.”

Patrick moves as if to get up. “Oh, should I go shower right now?”

David doesn’t appear to take it as a joke. “If you’d be more comfortable, sure, but I’m not planning on doing anything that would require…” He hesitates. “I mean, there are sex acts that require more cleanliness than others.”

“Right.” Patrick tenses up a little at that. They haven’t talked much about anal sex yet. David took it off the table at Stevie’s without really giving a reason why, and Patrick still isn’t sure if it was for his own benefit or Patrick’s. He has to admit he was relieved that night, with so many other first times in front of him, to not have to worry about anal yet. Even if the idea of it (and watching porn featuring it) does turn him on.

“Not that we ever have to…” David sighs, like he’s frustrated with himself for being vague. “We don’t ever have to have anal sex if you aren’t into it. There are lots of other things we can do that I also like very much.”

“I appreciate that,” Patrick says, kissing him again to delay saying the next part. “But I am into it. I do want to… with you.”

David kisses him harder, teeth grazing his lower lip, and Patrick suspects that David is more pleased with that answer than he’s going to admit out loud. It gives Patrick the courage to say more. He pulls away and clears his throat.

“Do you… is there a way you prefer it?” Patrick asks.

Smirking, David responds, “Are you asking if I’m a top or a bottom?”

“I guess I am, yeah.” Patrick hopes that’s not inherently offensive. He knows enough to know there are some offensive stereotypes around the kind of sex certain types of queer men like, but he isn’t sure if he knows how to navigate those topics without inadvertently setting a foot wrong.

“I’m vers. We can try it either way. Or both, if you…” David squeezes his eyes shut. “I mean, I don’t want to assume you haven’t… obviously sex with a woman can involve anal. I’ve been pegged very successfully by a woman in a strap-on.”

Patrick’s eyes widen at that image, but then he quickly realizes it’s Stevie he’s picturing with David, and he blinks to try to dispel the mental picture. “It can,” Patrick agrees, feeling hopelessly inexperienced again. “But I haven’t.”

David just grins, undeterred by Patrick’s lack of experience. “So, there’s no pressure, or timeline, but I’m very excited to explore with you. To find out what you like.”

His breath catching, Patrick blurts out, “Like, now?”

Scrunching up his nose, David shakes his head. “Let’s wait until we have more time, and privacy.”

Patrick nods; that’s sensible. “Yeah.” He laughs nervously. “I think Ray has a poker game on Thursday.”

David’s responding grin his pure sex. “Okay.” He’s a little breathless when he says it, and Patrick can’t not kiss him after that.

“I’m excited to explore with you, too,” he whispers against David’s lips when they break apart.

“Yeah?” It comes out as a breath, almost a sigh. David reaches to touch his face, and it feels like his fingers are trembling just a bit.

“Yeah.” He stretches up and mouths at David’s neck, sucking at the skin. “I want that with you. I want…”

“Tell me,” David says, and he sounds desperate. David slides a hand down Patrick’s chest and over the front of his pajama bottoms, stroking his cock through the fabric. “Tell me what you want.”

Patrick groans. “I want to fuck you. Want you to fuck me,” he says before he can second-guess it.

“Yes,” David hisses, stroking harder and then kissing him messily. “Fuck, I can’t wait,” David adds and then immediately grimaces. “I mean, I can wait, for as long as you need to, I just—”

Laughing, Patrick touches David's cheek to try to calm him down. “I understood what you meant.” He bucks his hips against David’s hand, because regardless of what they might do on Thursday, right now they’re both turned on and should probably get on with it before Ray gets out of bed.

David seems to come to the same realization, because he reaches for the lube on the bedside table. “Get your cock out for me,” he says, and Patrick gasps at how brazen it is, even as his hands scramble to push his pajamas down, his cock springing up and pointing toward the ceiling. Not wasting any time, David tosses the lube aside and grips Patrick’s cock in his slick fist, long fingers enveloping him as he begins to slowly stroke. He tightens his hand and Patrick has to bite down on a whimper.

“Is it good?” David asks, probably more because he’s looking for praise than because he’s checking in. They’ve done handjobs before, although on the heels of the conversation they were having, Patrick feels like he’s already close.

“It’s so good, David,” he slurs, his eyes slipping closed as he loses himself to the rhythm of it. “Everything you do is so good.”

David hums, his hand speeding up a bit, working the head more thoroughly with each stroke. “Think about what it’s gonna feel like to fuck me, Patrick. Work me open and put your cock inside me and fuck me. Do you want that?”

His hips rise up off the bed to thrust into David’s hand, his head swimming with want, like he’s overflowing with desire from every pore. “Yes. God, yes, David—” He comes without warning then, David’s words and David’s hand pushing him over the edge unexpectedly, and Patrick bites the palm of his own hand in an attempt to be quiet.

When he finally pries his eyelids open, David is pulling tissues from the box to wipe his hand off, so Patrick does the same to get most of the mess off of his abdomen. His hand hurts, and he looks dumbly at the indentations of his own teeth in the meat of his palm.

“You’re hot when you come,” David says, shimmying his shoulders against the sheets. “I like watching it.” He grins, stretching his spine. “And making it happen. Obviously.”

“You’re pretty hot when you come too,” Patrick says, inching his pajamas up over his hips and rolling toward David. “Speaking of which…” He reaches for the drawstring of David’s pants, intending to return the favor.

“Patrick, are you up?” The door starts to open, and Patrick hurriedly pulls the covers over them. “Oh, and David! I’m glad you stayed over. I told Patrick—”

“Can I help you, Ray?” Patrick knows his voice sounds testy, but he figures he’s justified.

“Just checking to see if you wanted to join me for breakfast, but I’ll leave you and David be.” And then, horribly, he winks before backing out of the room.

“At least he didn’t come in while I was giving you a handjob,” David says with an eye roll.

Patrick winces. “Did that totally kill the mood?”

“Yeah, I don’t think I’d be able to come now, knowing Ray might just waltz into the room.” He smirks. “You’ll just have to make it up to me later.”

“I promise I will,” Patrick says seriously. He leans forward and kisses David. “Maybe tomorrow after we close the store.”

“Maybe,” David says, as if he isn’t always game for fooling around in the back of the store. “But definitely Thursday.”

“Definitely Thursday,” Patrick repeats, kissing him again. “What was it you said you wanted me to do?” he murmurs, and a part of him can’t believe what’s about to come out of his mouth. “Work you open and put my cock inside you?”

David groans. “I’m trying to calm down enough that I can walk out of here with some dignity intact, and that’s not really helping.”

“Sorry,” Patrick says with a wide grin that makes it clear he isn’t sorry at all. Now that he feels ready to take that step in their sex life, he wants it to happen as soon as possible. Thursday feels like an eternity away.

“No you’re not.” David says, rolling his eyes again, but Patrick can tell that he’s pleased.

“Do you want me to go see if Ray has the fixings for pancakes?” Patrick asks with a kiss to David’s cheek.

“Mm, yes please.”

Patrick pauses as he gets out of bed. “I’m really glad you slept over.”

“Yeah, because you got a bonus morning handjob out of it,” David says.

“Not just because I got a bonus morning handjob out of it.” Patrick gets up, marveling at how easy it’s becoming to talk with David about sex. “Although I didn’t hate that.”

“Of course you didn’t; I’m amazing at morning handjobs,” David calls just as Patrick opens the bedroom door and comes face-to-face with Ray as he’s coming out of his own bedroom.

Ray raises an eyebrow, because he definitely heard that. Patrick sighs and blushes. “Can I help you make breakfast, Ray?”

“Certainly,” Ray says. “Is David staying to eat?”

“Yeah, if that’s okay.”

“Of course.” He starts down the stairs ahead of Patrick. “Wouldn’t want to deprive him of food if he’s worked up an appetite this morning.”

Patrick resists the urge to duck into the linen closet to hide, and he follows Ray down the stairs to find the pancake mix.

[solastia]

Tuqburni | Finale - Healing

Pairing: Yoonmin x Reader

Word Count: 5,308

A/N: Here we go, the “Official” ending. I will still eventually put out “Finale: Heartbreak” as an alternate version for those that wanted her to move on, as well as a small epilogue later on (will be nice and smutty and set in the future). For now, though, this is the end. It has been a very long journey with this fic as life often got in the way, and I thank (most of you) for being patient with me. I hope you learned a few things along the way. Each and every one of you is important and precious, never let anyone make you feel like you are a second choice or inferior. All relationships are complicated and communication is key no matter your dynamic. But especially so in polyamorous relationships. If anyone ever makes you feel like “the other” or “the third,” talk to them. If they won’t listen, leave. Your worth is not based on other people. You are worthy all on your own. Also, the weekly plan that my character follows is a real system that works. It was given to me by my counselor who I thought was a nut herself at the time, but it worked so well. I’m still working through a lot of stuff myself, but this weekly routine saved my life. 

It had only been a few months so far, but it felt like a lifetime. 

Seokjin and Namjoon had tried to talk you into staying with them, but you’d decided it would make you feel too guilty to rely on them like that and invade their space. Instead, you were now renting your own apartment. It came furnished and the lease was month to month so you could leave at any time. It felt nice though, having your own space, even if it didn’t allow pets. Especially once you’d been able to reduce Jin’s visits to no more than three times a week. 

Taehyung and Jungkook, friends of all of yours and signed to the company you worked for as idols, finally came back into town a few weeks after “the incident” while you were still staying with Jin. You’d forgotten they were due back and only discovered they were here when Yoongi and Jimin both showed up with black eyes and bruised cheeks. You had assumed they came from Jungkook - who had always looked up to you like an older sister - but you were pleasantly surprised to learn they had been inflicted by his boyfriend Taehyung instead. He had proudly admitted it during lunch one day while demanding a turn at petting your hair, and you wondered if he too saw you as a sister or a pet. Either way, you were touched that he thought enough of you to try to “defend your honor.” 

Still, it wasn’t like you never saw Yoongi and Jimin. You still had to work with them, obviously. Jimin worked on the other side of the building, but he had taken to eating his lunch with you, and you were usually joined by Namjoon and Jin so you didn’t feel too pressured. There was still the looming cloud of ‘someday’ that scared you, but without being forced to pretend to be and feel a certain way every day you were able to look at him in a new light. 

The Jimin that you saw now was one that you had caught glimpses of before. He was sweet and kind, but quick-witted and prone to just enough wicked humor to make him interesting. Unfortunately for you, he seemed to also be a natural flirt and making you flustered was as easy as breathing for him. After a couple weeks, you finally started to flirt back and the results were incredible. He would blush and act so shy that he would practically duck under the table. Seemed he could dish it out but couldn’t take it. Honestly, you were beginning to really look forward to your time with him every day. 

With Yoongi, it was naturally a little harder. Your first day back to work had gone a long way towards smoothing things over a little. Yoongi had actually dropped to his knees and bowed along with his apology. He apologized for the way he’d spoken to you that day, as well as for dragging you down into the mess that your relationship had become. The two of you had cried together and hugged, and he promised to go to counseling as well when you mentioned you had signed up to see someone. Anything, he promised. 

“I’ve been horrible and selfish, but not once did I ever stop loving you. I think I’ll love you until the day I die. I’m going to work hard to deserve even the scrap of affection you might still have for me. If you decide that you want to move on, that’s fine. Whatever makes you happy. But know that I’ll always be here loving you and you can come to me for anything at all.” 

Those words felt like a tattoo on your heart. A promise of forever if you ever wanted to reach out and take it. 

But first, you needed to learn to love yourself before you could accept it. You needed to learn to be strong and figure out more about you as a person before becoming a part of something so complicated again. Maybe then you would believe that you were an important part of the relationship, rather than a side piece or someone that they settled for. 

The first step was signing up for a therapist. She was a little pricy, but out of the four other people that you’d talked to before settling, she’d been the only one that made you feel genuinely comfortable. You were pretty self-aware of your flaws and why you had them in the first place, so it wasn’t like you needed someone to hold your hand and drudge up every painful memory. You just needed help trying to get past it all and get to a place where you were comfortable with yourself. 

The therapist was chill enough that even you thought she might work for Jimin and Yoongi as well, and they quickly made appointments with her when you told them. You obviously weren’t able to know what they were talking about with her, but you’d noticed after a few weeks that both of them seemed a little lighter. Jimin practically sparkled whenever he joined you at lunch and Yoongi was quick to smile when he joined you in your combined studio, sometimes sneaking a coffee onto your desk that was just the way you liked it. He’d even started bringing your dog Holly to the office every day so that you could spend time with him. 

Jimin and Yoongi admitted that several of their sessions have been as a pair since they had the added trauma of Yoongi’s prior attempt on his life. They asked you to come to a couple yourself since you were part of it as well. You were the one to find him and help him through all of it, and they felt that it would help any lingering bitterness or fear from the incident would be helped that way. You agreed and started attending once a month as a group. 

She was wonderful for you, you thought. You never felt judged, not even when you brought up the relationship with Yoongi and Jimin and how it was handled. She simply let you talk and then asked you what you wanted. To close your eyes and envision what you hoped was waiting for you at the end of this journey. 

Yoongi’s face was the first thing you thought of and wasn’t surprising. That Jimin was right there next to him and holding out a hand towards you was. You wanted this to work. You wanted to be happy, and you wanted them to be happy. Without you, if that had to be it. With you would be even better. Somehow Jimin had slotted himself a place in your vision of the future.  

One of her biggest things that she preached was finding a routine that made you feel happy and safe while building your sense of self. She claimed it was an essential part of healing for many, especially those dealing with past trauma like you. That while many of the tasks she wanted you to do seemed silly or self-indulgent, that in the end you might discover more about yourself and develop healthy habits. So, she assigned you a weekly routine to follow. 

There was Me Monday, in which you spent the entire day “dating” yourself. It was a little difficult considering your work, but the day was essentially pampering yourself as much as possible. You eat what you want to eat, you watch what you want, when you get out of work you go do what you want. You use that day to get massages or pedicures. She said it was to teach you that it’s okay to be a little selfish from time to time. That taking care of yourself and putting yourself ahead of someone else on occasion wasn’t a crime. It was healthy because at the end of the day no one else can live your life but you. 

Try Something Tuesday was essentially what it sounded like. You take that day to try something new. You tried out new hobbies, new activities. Anything that you had once said no to because you were scared, this was the day to do them. So far you’d gone to dance classes and discovered you were actually pretty good, went to play laser tag with Jin and his friends, and started biking almost daily with Namjoon. Jungkook has been trying to talk you into going skydiving and the fact that it terrifies you tells you it’s probably going to happen eventually. 

Work through it Wednesday was the day you went to see your therapist. You’d work through the list you had to make throughout the week of things you wanted to cover. A lot of what you went over was stuff that you pretty much knew inside your head, but she would drag it out of you and once it was out there and being spoken about by another person, it helped to see it in a new light. She covered everything from your abandonment issues to the fact that you had never fully put your trust in Yoongi in the first place. That you had always expected him to drop you at any moment and when he brought Jimin in, for you it was simply confirming what you had been telling yourself all along. That you weren’t worthy of being loved and no one would want you. When that came out, she essentially told you to snap out of it. That you shouldn’t let your anxiety win. There was a lot more to it, but you were working on it. 

“Them” Thursdays were one of the more difficult days. Since she counseled all three of you and all of your ultimate goals were to someday find your way back to each other, she allotted you all one day to spend some time all together. Nothing romantic or sexual - simply re-learning each other and discovering how you work together. The first few Thursdays had been borderline painful. You’d all met in a cafe for coffee and awkwardly sat around the table. Jimin would try to talk about funny things he saw on the internet or some anime he was watching in an attempt to kill the silence, while Yoongi usually seemed content to listen while he stared at you like a lost puppy. When it was obvious that something needed changing, your therapist suggested other locales. Places that would give you all a shared experience and something to break the ice. 

The spot that finally worked its magic on all of you was the cat cafe. On your first visit, it was obvious as soon as you all walked in that Jimin was in heaven. He cooed at and cuddled every single one that would let him. You’d never thought of Yoongi as much of a cat person and figured he would just lay around and nap somewhere while you and Jimin played. He did lay out eventually, but was soon joined by at least six cats that all decided he made a perfect bed. 

“Look, they recognize one of their own,” Jimin had giggled to you. 

It soon became a place of comfort for the three of you. Somewhere that seemed to make you all happy and comfortable enough to talk. You were all very careful not to make promises, as that’s not what these visits were about. They were about healing. About getting to know each other on a new deeper level without the pressure of romantic entanglements.

It wasn’t like you all weren’t still attracted to each other, obviously. There were still moments where you would be laughing and glance over at Yoongi only to find him piercing you with hooded eyes, biting his lip in the way that you knew from experience meant he was holding himself back from kissing you. Even Jimin would sometimes flip a switch and go from a giggling dork to running his hands through his hair and looking like sex personified as he stared you down.

Of course, it probably also didn’t help that - unless they were lying - neither of them had even touched each other like that in months. They claimed they were staying in separate bedrooms and didn’t want to do anything that could jeopardize everyone’s healing. You mostly believed them because Jimin was always free of hickeys or other marks. Yoongi always left a mark. This made you feel both relieved and guilty. Relieved because that would mean if you decided to start over with each other, it would be from the beginning for everyone. You wouldn’t feel left behind. But you also felt guilty because it seemed like such a selfish thing to expect from them. To expect them to not fuck around when you weren’t even promising getting back together seemed messed up as hell. However, it was Jimin’s idea in the first place and Yoongi had completely agreed with it, so you supposed it was up to them if they wanted to continue that or not. It’s not like you’d know if they did do something since you didn’t live there anymore. 

After “Them” Thursdays was Friend Fridays. Once you began to talk to your therapist more, you realized that your life had pretty much revolved around Yoongi to the point where you hadn’t even maintained or started any friendships outside of the ones you met through him or work. Which wasn’t too bad in your mind, since that meant you had Jin and Namjoon as well as Jungkook and Taehyung, and they were the best friends anyone could ever ask for. However, your therapist recommended seeking out friends of your own that wouldn’t be thrown into the middle of a war should your relationship ever go south again. Friends that were just yours that would have things in common with you and that you could count on to be there for you. This was all easier said than done, as it was hard for adults to make friends outside of work. But you did your best, chatting up other people that you met through your dance classes or other activities. You had a tentative meetup on your next Friday with some girls you’d met at the park. Yoongi was going to leave Holly with you after work and you were going to meet them there and have a meetup with all of your dogs. It wasn’t bad for a first step, you thought. 

Sensual Saturdays was...well, pretty much how it sounded as well. It was your day to convince yourself that you were attractive and desirable. During your sessions, you’d apparently compared yourself to Jimin far too often. You often mentioned how much more beautiful you thought he was than yourself, how you wouldn’t be surprised for anyone to pick him over you. How compatible Yoongi and Jimin were in bed. So, in order to help you cease - or at least lessen - how often you talked down yourself and get you to view yourself in a new light, a day was set aside for you to work on precisely that. You would buy yourself lingerie and walk around in it at home until you were comfortable enough to actually begin to admire yourself in it. You bought a huge mirror for the back of your bedroom door and played with yourself in front of it, curiously watching your expressions as you imagined it was Yoongi’s fingers instead. It was definitely a work in progress and you weren’t sure you’d ever be considered on Jimin’s level realistically, but you were beginning to at least find it more believable when someone complimented you on your appearance. 

Silent Sundays was a day you took to recharge. You left your phone on silent, you kept the TV off, and you ignored everyone. You spent the day writing in the journal you had to keep for therapy, going over everything that happened that week and how you felt you had changed versus what you felt you still needed to work on. You’d also read or draw, sometimes write lyrics, maybe do some baking. It was usually on Sundays that you missed your little house the most, as you pictured a Silent Sunday spent there instead. You’d probably spend it outside working on the garden in the backyard. Holly would walk back and forth between you in the garden and Yoongi muttering curses as he built something on the patio. Jimin would probably come outside to bring you both drinks and peck you on the cheek before he rushed back inside to watch his show, not wanting to stay out in the sun too long. It was such a believable scenario and you could see it so clearly that your chest ached with longing. 

The fact that Jimin was always right there whenever you pictured going home wasn’t lost on you, either. You were beginning to accept fully that somewhere along the line you had dropped your wall of bitterness long enough for him to charm his way through and you were as whipped for him as everyone else was. For every thought you had of Yoongi, one of Jimin followed soon after. You’d imagine Yoongi’s sexy smirk and intense eyes, then Jimin’s lips and strong muscles. You’d think of Yoongi’s quiet thoughtfulness and warm heart, then Jimin’s kindness and cheerful energy.

Whenever you thought of home, you thought of them.

A decision would have to be made soon, but you were pretty sure it was already made in your heart. However, in fairness to yourself, you were going to do one last thing. Try to move on

* 

Jung Hoseok was an absolutely gorgeous man. He was tall and lanky, but with the toned muscles you were used to seeing on dancers. And his smile was dangerous - one moment it was brighter than the sun with adorable dimples, the next it was a smirk lethal enough to melt anyone.  

You had noticed him around the company before, but you’d never really talked to him. He was good friends with Taehyung and Jungkook, and Jin always spoke fondly of him, but back then you were just so wrapped up in Yoongi that only him and those immediately close to him gained your interest. You were a little disappointed you’d never talked to him sooner. 

He was bright and loud and quite possibly the most fun you’d ever had on a date. He was proud and passionate about his work, loved his family and friends, and was absolutely perfect. And yet everything he did, you compared to ‘them.’ Or wondered what they would think. Things like, “Jimin must love this guy.” or “Yoongi would be wishing he would choke on a bread roll just for a moment of quiet.” 

All throughout dinner you couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t where you belonged and that he would never be the one. But he was so nice and kept you laughing with his hilariously animated stories that you couldn’t just bail. Instead, you stayed and ordered another glass of wine and giggled as he continued entertaining you. 

An hour later you’re both standing outside of the restaurant making your goodbyes in front of your taxi when his gaze suddenly changes from friendly to smoldering. His eyes rake you from top to bottom and you remember that today was Sensual Saturday. You’d certainly dressed the part. He couldn’t see all the black lace lingerie you had on underneath your red sheath dress, but you’d unquestionably left little to the imagination.  

“So, uh, it’s really unusual for me to ask on a first date, but...maybe we could take this to my place? If you want? It’s just...you are so fucking beautiful and sweet and totally too good to be true. I’ll even throw in breakfast, although I’m a shitty cook. But I’d make it up to you for dinner.” 

“Wow. You have all day tomorrow planned too, huh?” You joke nervously. The two and a half cups of wine you’d had with dinner were settled comfortably in your tummy, warming you in places that made you think that just maybe you could go through with this. You weren’t blind - he was fucking hot as hell - but the thought of being with anyone other than Yoongi, or even Jimin, was terrifying. But your new motto of trying to do things that scare you, along with this being ‘Sensual Saturday’, led you to believe that you really needed to do this. 

“Yeah, kinda pictured a day spent in bed, watching some movies, ordering Chinese...you can tell me to fuck off if you don’t want to or you want to wait. I won’t be offended,” he shrugs, his little grin deepening a dimple. 

You sigh and grab his hand, leading him towards the taxi. “Tell him your address.” 

His eyes widen like he can’t believe his luck and he stutters out his address to the driver. He leans back and buckles in before tentatively reaching over to grab your hand. It’s nice and warm, with pretty fingers. But even then you’re comparing his hands with Yoongi’s beautifully vein-laced ones. 

The building you’re led to is a nice apartment complex - quite a bit nicer than the month-to-month one you’re renting but not fancy enough to make you feel out of place. As he excitedly pulls you into the elevator and onto his floor, you realize the light buzz of alcohol that was clouding your thoughts was slowly easing away, leaving the light thrum of anxiety and discomfort room to grow. 

It definitely wasn’t him. He was sweet and funny and super, super hot - did you mention he was hot? He just wasn’t ‘them.’ 

You steeled yourself, however, because you owed yourself this. You owed yourself a chance to move on, to experience someone else. Surely this feeling would dissipate once you, you know, got going. People did this stuff all the time, why couldn’t you? 

His apartment was nicer than you expected. Clean and bright, with cute little accents here and there that spoke of his colorful personality. It even smelled amazing, which seemed odd for a bachelor pad. Like citrus and vanilla. 

Hoseok knelt down and helped you out of your heels before standing up to take off his blazer. 

“You need a drink or anything?” 

You shake your head, wanting to get started before you can talk yourself out of it. He smirks, obviously thinking you’re just nervously eager for him. 

He walks up and cups your jaw, tilting your face up. 

“Can I kiss you?” 

“Yes,” you whisper, closing your eyes as he moves closer. 

It’s a nice kiss. Slow and sensual, barely any tongue, and he strokes his thumb across your cheek the whole time. Any other person would feel excited and be touched with how sweet it was. It was like he was silently promising this wasn’t just sex for him. It only served to make you feel guiltier that you weren’t being totally honest with him. 

When he pulls away, his eyes seem a little dazed as he escorts you to his room. Again, nothing to complain about there. The room is nice and clean, smells good, has a few cute Snoopy stuff animals laying around. He’s gentle leading you in and maneuvering you to sit on the bed.  

His breath is shuddering as he slowly leans in to kiss your jaw and work his way down. You can feel a slight twinge of interest since your neck is one of your weak spots, but it dies down again once the expect bite never came. Yoongi was a biter and always left marks that you proudly wore, no matter how many people told you it was tacky. Your neck and chest were his favorite places to do it, so when Hoseok simply traveled around leaving light kisses and maybe a lick or two, you were nearly disappointed. Also slightly relieved because what if the boys saw a mark on you? You could nearly see Jimin’s eyes tearing up now. 

Hoseok inhales and moans, making you jump a little because you’d nearly forgotten about him you’d been so stuck in your own mind. His hand slowly slides down and up, reaching under your dress. His hands are nice enough, but they don’t have the expert feel of Yoongi’s fingers knowing your body like the back of his hand. Or even Jimin’s - thicker and earnest to learn and please. 

You cringe when he slips into your panties because you know he’s going to feel you’re as dry as a desert down there. 

Sure enough, he pauses and his shoulders slump. He slides his hand out and peeks up at you. You can tell he’s forcing himself to smile, but his eyes are soft with understanding. 

“I’m not doing it for you, am I?” 

You rush to explain. “Oh, God...it’s not you. It’s so not you. You are unbelievably hot and funny, just so sexy and I really wish I could get out of my head, but...”

“Yoongi and Jimin, right?” You nod and he sighs, sitting up on the bed next to you. “Jin hyung told me not to get my hopes up, but you are so pretty and sweet that I think I lost my head there a little bit.” 

“I’m sorry,” you murmur, turning to look down at the floor. 

“Nah, I’m sorry. I hope I didn’t make you feel pressured or like you had to come here with me.” 

“No, of course not. I thought if I just tried I could...with you. You are amazing.” 

Hoseok sighs and smiles sadly, twisting your heart. If you were another you, not so stuck on ‘them’, you’d grab this man up in a heartbeat. 

He chuckles and helps you up. “Fine, but let them know if they fuck up again I’m coming for you.”

You blush and let him lead you out of the room. “Thank you, Hoseok. If it’s not too awkward, I’d like to be friends. Not like the bullshit line people say when they really don’t mean it, but really friends. You can hang out with us in the cafeteria at work on Monday if you want.” 

He looks surprised for a split second before the tension in his face melts and he smiles genuinely at you. 

“You know what? I might just take you up on that.” 

“Okay. Thanks, Hoseok. And I’m sorry, again.” 

“It’s all good. You can still stay the night if you want? I have an extra room and I promise no funny business unless you ask for it.” 

You giggle and slide into your heels. 

“No, thanks though. I’m gonna...” 

“Yeah,” he nods in understanding. “Be careful.”

“Thanks. I’ll see you.” 

You escape to the elevator quickly, ordering a cab on your phone. When you’re done, you lean your head against the wall and sigh. Honestly, you’re not sure if you’re doing the right thing. Hoseok was incredible and had so much potential, but you’re you and you have to do what’s right for yourself. And given how much you can’t stop thinking of two certain people, your path is clear. 

*

The taxi pulls up to the familiar little house and you quickly slide out after paying and just stand there, looking at it. 

Home. 

It still looks the same. You weren’t sure what you were expecting, but it still looked like home. Yoongi still kept up the yard, though your flowers looked like they might be struggling a little bit. He’d forgotten to put his basketball away again since it was just sitting there in the driveway waiting to get run over. Jimin must have been sitting on the porch reading earlier because one of his mangas was on the wicker table. 

You take a few steps closer, amazed at how your chest felt lighter with each one. As soon as you walk up one of the stairs you can hear Holly at the door, scratching a little and whining. 

“Yah, you mongrel. What’s your problem? You too good for the doggy door in the back now?” 

You grin shakily as Yoongi’s complaining filters through the door. Once you’re close enough to hover your hand over the door you can hear Yoongi shuffling closer to the door. Your heart is pounding and you can feel your eyes filling up and you fight to contain yourself. You knock twice. 

Yoongi cracks open the door, his confused expression morphing into disbelief once he sees you. 

“Hi,” you say breathily. 

He gulps and quietly responds, “Hey.” Holly happily hops all over the place and does circles to try and get your attention. You smile at him then turn back to Yoongi. 

You both are quiet for a moment, looking each other over. His eyes roam over your outfit is wide-eyed wonder. 

Jimin wanders in fresh from the shower, running a towel over his head still. 

“Who is coming by this late?” 

You poke your head to the side and wave a little. 

“Hey, Jimin.” 

“Noona?” He smiles happily, rushing over to join Yoongi at the door. “You look incredible. What’s going on?” 

Yoongi already knows. You can see it in the way his shoulders have relaxed like someone just lifted the weight of the world off of them. A single tear travels down his cheek as he smiles softly at you. 

“We have to keep going to counseling. I’m not going to go back to the way things were. We are going to be better than that. We are going to communicate and talk everything through. If I’m the one not talking about something I should, call me out on it. This is going to be equal and no one is going to feel left out.” Yoongi nods enthusiastically and reaches out a hand that you eagerly grasp. 

Jimin gasps as he catches on. 

“Noona, you’re back?” 

“I’m all in. With both of you, if you still want me.” 

You hold your free hand out to him and his smile grows bright as he accepts it and tugs you inside the house before enveloping you in a hug. Yoongi shuts the door and takes Jimin’s place when the other pulls back. 

He cups your jaw and his face comes so close you can see his lip trembling with barely contained emotion. He sighs and lays his forehead against yours. 

“Welcome home, Princess.” 

Jimin wraps his arms around you both from the side, placing a quick peck on both of your cheeks. You blush and cuddle further into Yoongi’s hold, feeling right for the first time in a very long time. 

You know it’s not perfect yet and you all still have a lot to work on and figure out, but for now, this is perfect. 

Because home was ‘Them.’ 

[anogete]

In Between

Hi, folks.  I’m sorry I have nothing to offer as far as fic goes.  Things have been... ::sigh::  You know, I don’t know what things have been.  Not good, not bad.  Just... things.  I wanted to talk--get things out of my head--this morning, but I realized I don’t have a person/outlet who can accept these things right now.  So, I will put them here for anyone who cares to read them.

1) My car blew up.  Well, the engine did.  I was on my way back home with groceries last Saturday, and I lost all ability to accelerate and brake.  So, I puttered out on the side of the road and waited to be saved.  The issue may be covered under the warranty so I had it taken to the dealership.  They’ve had it for a week and still don’t have answers for me besides an offer to lend me a car for free until they can figure out what to do with my car.

2) This deserves it’s own point, though I almost included it on the first point.  I’ve never bought a car without my grandmother.  She was under five feet tall and had a tendency to wear sweat pants and Christmas sweaters year-round.  She smoked Winston Lights and carried a purse covered in rhinestones.  The car salesmen didn’t know what hit them because she wasn’t at all the sweet old lady who would roll over and accept their first offer.  She was hard to read and she wouldn’t give an inch.  She also wouldn’t tell them what she was willing to pay.  No counter offers from her; she’d just tell you to “do better.”  Anyway, she worked her magic when I bought all three of my cars.  When I realized the problem with the engine was serious and might require me getting a new car, I went into a mental tailspin.  Yeah, yeah, I was worried about fitting it into my budget and all that, but mostly I couldn’t seem to cope with buying a car on my own without my grandma there to hold my hand.  I’m almost 39 years old and the thought of doing this without her had me sobbing in the floor.  Except, I didn’t realize my tailspin was due to my grandmother at first.  At first, I just thought I was incapable of handling stress.  Maybe that’s still accurate.

3) While we’re talking about expensive-ass shit, I knew the air conditioner and furnace on this house needed to be replaced sooner rather than later when I bought it last February.  It looks like the time has come.  I managed to find a nice man with very odd hair (think a longer version of the Prince Valiant hair-do, but bright white) through my boyfriend’s dad.  He does this for a living and said he’d give me a discount and do for $5,000 what other places were telling me would cost $9,000.  So, that’s happening next week.  I have the money, but the idea of writing a $5,000 check makes me want to puke.  Ugh.

4) The days are running together.  I’m working from home.  I can’t complain, though.  I’ve got it better than most.  I’m alone all day.  I have a library with a desk.  I can go downstairs and make tea or lunch in my own kitchen.  I’m getting paid my full salary with bonuses.  I can pretty much make my own hours.  The company I work for is taking the pandemic seriously and has told us that we can all work from home until we feel comfortable returning to the office.  Their timeline for “normal” is months.  I don’t think I’ll be back in the office until late summer, if that.  Those who want to return are permitted to, but they can’t use the public areas (kitchen, conference rooms) and have to abide by some strict safety requirements.  And they can choose when and how often they go into the office, working the remainder of the time at home.  So, better than most.

5) I’ve been doing this social distancing thing since March 19th.  It’s not difficult for me.  On good days I’ll exercise (I have a Peloton) before logging into work around 9am.  On not-good days (which seem to be more often than not), I’ll skip the exercise and just log into work early.  Work keeps me busy and I spend a decent amount of my day on the phone with clients.  I go to the grocery store once a week, but I order for pickup.  Someone else does the shopping for me and loads it into my trunk.  This is nothing new.  I’ve been shopping that way for years.  Now it’s just harder to get my usual pickup slot because everyone else has joined the party.  I do miss taking a break from work and leaving my office to grab a coffee and sit outside on a bench downtown.  I guess I could do that outside my own house, but it just doesn’t feel the same.

6) A few months ago, a husband and wife who are clients came in to meet with me at my office.  They’re in their 80s and both were having trouble walking.  They parked in the garage next door and couldn’t find the elevator to exit.  I walked over and escorted them to our office building.  They were both struggling with walking and the wife (Rose) had been fighting lung cancer for a couple years, so I suggested they wait outside and I’d valet their car once we were done.  The thought of making the trek to their car alone was painful to me because it was a monumental struggle for them to walk down a hallway.  Their daughter-in-law called me two days ago.  Rose passed away two weeks ago.  The husband, a former literature professor for a university, was in the hospital with four broken ribs because he’d fallen shortly after Rose’s passing.  He was a Jewish child in Nazi Germany during the war.  He’d told me stories about hiding from the Nazis, surviving off of tree bark and whatever he could find in the forests.  He also jokingly told me that he’d live until he was 120.  Now, it looks like he won’t survive the year.  He and Rose would tease each other all the time, but you could see all that love between them. Whenever I’d call him, he’d ask me in that wonderful accent to wait while he got “the boss” on the phone as well.  Rose thought it was silly that she was “the boss,” but she humored him.  You know, they’re shorties, too.  Five foot, nothing.  Just like my grandma.  Hearing that Rose was gone and Dr. (he’s a PhD) was likely soon to follow just broke my already fragile heart.

7) Fragile heart, huh?  Yeah.  After the car situation and the realization that one day I’m going to have to do big life things without having my grandma to help me, I was feeling pretty raw.  But I’ve been trying to be responsible and do things I’ve been putting off lately.  So, I gathered up all those medical bills from Ferguson’s illness last September.  (Ferguson was my soulmate little chihuahua mix that I had for over 13 years.)  I had pet insurance on him and hadn’t bothered to make the claim because I couldn’t handle it.  But it’s been almost a year so I pulled out the invoices, which were over $2,000, and logged into the website and starting inputting the info to file the claims.  The little box asks for a description of why I took him to the vet.  And answering that question just brought back all that shit like a wave.  I remember reading this nice description of grief and how it is like waves.  At first they’re big and they knock you around and you can’t breathe.  But over time they get smaller and you learn how to navigate them.  Still there, but manageable.  Filling in that box resulted in a bit of a tidal wave that knocked me on my ass.  My boyfriend came home to find me sobbing at my desk like a lunatic..  He’s... not so good with emotional shit.  And I usually keep it bottled up so that no one knows what’s going on inside me.  But some days...  Some days it just overflows.  So, after confirming that nothing terrible had occurred and that I was reliving September 2019, he slowly backed out of the room to leave me with my grief-wave.

8) I want to be one of those succulent people.  You know, the ones who have succulents lining their windowsills.  The dining room and kitchen windows are full of this oddball little plants.  The boyfriend hates it, but I told him he’d have to deal.  I’ll die on this hill.  I’m a succulent lady.

9) I’ve been reading memoirs or, rather, memoirs through collections of essays.  I don’t know if it’s the mental state I’m in or if social distancing has got me subconsciously reaching out for life beyond my head, but I can’t seem to read much else.  I loved Liz Phair’s Horror Stories.  I’m reading The Book of Help by Megan Griswold right now.  I’m determined to procure a signed copy of What Doesn’t Kill You Makes You Blacker by Damon Young.  He did a virtual event for a local bookseller recently and they have signed copies available for purchase.  I just need to muster up the will to call them and ask them to hold one for me.  The little snippets of their life and experiences via these memoirs through essays bring me some measure of comfort.

10) I tried to watch Euphoria on HBO.  I managed to make it through the first episode, but I don’t think I can watch more.  I can’t relate, but that normally isn’t a necessity for an enjoyable story.  Maybe it’s just too depressing for me right now.

11) I binged Dollface on Hulu and wish I had more to watch.  Parts of it hit me hard.  I’ve always had trouble maintaining friendships, period.  But maintaining friendships while in a relationship has been damn near impossible for me.  Just like Jules.  Except, I’m not nearly as cool or gorgeous as Kat Dennings.  And I have no friends in this city to go back to.  Just friends at work. 

12) I haven’t worn makeup for 2 solid months.  I’m starting to miss it.  I found old selfies I’d taken in which I don’t recognize myself.  Did I ever look like that?  I must have since here is photographic evidence.  I look like shit now.  I’m forever in yoga pants and a hoodie with half-wet hair from the shower.  Maybe putting on a pair of jeans and a cute shirt and some makeup will make me feel like a human being again.  Maybe I’m not doing as well as I thought in quarantine.  Huh.

13) I hope you all are well.  If you’ve sent me a message, I’m so sorry for not responding.  My mental state has been delicate lately and the silence from me has nothing to do with your kind words.  I promise I read and treasure and appreciate anything that is sent to me.  I’m also sorry for having no offering of fic or a promise of something to come.  I haven’t written since last summer.  It’s been almost a year.  I guess I’m in a dry spell.

14) Since I’ve been struggling with loss/grief lately, I’ll leave you with a quote from Philip Pullman, taken from his novel The Amber Spyglass.  It’s about death, I suppose.  Or maybe just a transition to something else entirely.  It’s nice to think of my grandma and Rose and my sweet, sweet love of a dog falling in the raindrops and riding on the wind through tall grass.  If it wasn’t raining, I’d take my computer outside right now.

“Even if it means oblivion, friends, I'll welcome it, because it won't be nothing. We'll be alive again in a thousand blades of grass, and a million leaves; we'll be falling in the raindrops and blowing in the fresh breeze; we'll be glittering in the dew under the stars and the moon out there in the physical world, which is our true home and always was.” 

[jaxl-road]

The League of Extraordinary Rockstars, ch.2

Summary: LA is a hub for music and mutants, making it the perfect place for Motley Crue, Guns N’ Roses, and countless other mutant musicians to call home. But it’s not all easy, especially when it comes to finding a decent place to live. So what better solution than moving in together in the mansion of an immortal? Love, drama, and super powers. If nothing else, it’ll be interesting.

Chapter Warnings: Language, genderswap!Steven

AN: This is a collaboration between myself and @the–blackdahlia​! It combines elements from her fic “It’s So Easy (And Other Lies)” (specifically her genderswapped!Steven) and my super powered GnR series. It is completely AU and ignores timelines like Woah, but hopefully you’ll have as much fun reading it as we’re having writing it! Let us know what you think!

~~~~~

It had been a couple weeks since Duff moved in with Slash and Stevie and in that time, he had sat on Slash probably a dozen times.

Stevie had mentioned before how most of the time Slash would camouflage in his sleep, but it was still hard to get used to. He would come home after a double shift and go to collapse on the couch only to land on a very disgruntled guitar player.

“Goddammit, can’t you fucking check before throwing yourself on the couch?”

“Can’t you go to sleep in your fucking room?!” Duff snapped back.

Slash wanted to rip his hair out. He had to grind his teeth together to keep from screaming about the number of times he’s had to deal with a drunken Stevie stumbling into his room to bawl about how she had too much love and too many crushes and they didn’t like her back and she was going to die alone. And because he was a fucking good friend, he would pet her head and try to soothe her until she finally fell asleep and he was stuck with a snoring glowstick lighting up his room.

So yes, he had been sleeping on the couch. But because, and he could not stress this enough, he was a good fucking friend, he couldn’t explain to Duff exactly why.

Living together was turning out to be a hell or an adjustment for the three rockers. Duff had shaken up their routine, giving them an extra person to get drunk with, which made Stevie’s already frazzled emotions even more haywire, not to mention the household hangovers they were suffering through each morning. It was easy with Tracii. He stayed out all night and slept all day, and honestly, Slash and Stevie had kinda felt sorry for him. But Duff was something different, and after one too many mornings of being awoken by Duff and Slash arguing, Stevie exploded.

“Enough!” She yelled at them. “I am going to stay the night someplace else so I can get some fucking sleep before work!”

That was three days ago, and this was the first night Duff and Slash had seen their roommate since she stormed out. Walking into the apartment, Stevie was pleased to see that the two boys looked properly chastised. Granted, their arguing hadn’t improved much during her three day exile, but Slash and Duff figured she didn’t need to know that.

"Hi boys," she smiled. "It’s a beautiful day. Aside from the freak thunderstorm yesterday," She flopped on the couch.

"Thought you moved out," Slash grumbled.

"Nonsense. I just stayed the night at Kelly's."

“Oh thank GOD,” the guitarist practically threw himself across Stevie’s lap, “I thought you were leaving forever!”

Duff shuffled over sitting next to her and looking very much like a kicked puppy, “You were gone for so long we didn’t think you were coming back and we missed you so much-”

“Holy shit you guys,” Stevie shook her head fondly, patting Slash’s head, “I was gone for three days! I just needed a long weekend away from your bickering-”

“He started it!” Two voices snapped simultaneously.

Eyebrow twitching in thinly veiled annoyance, Stevie grit her teeth and continued, “Whatever, my point is I need your arguments to at least be rescheduled to later in the day, alright?”

There was some minor grumbling.

"If you don't, Kelly's looking for a roommate. Or a fuck buddy that gets a free room." She smirked. She knew that would get them to chill out. "Now, I'm hungry. And I'm going to see a show tonight. You guys gonna join me?"

“Of course, but I gotta go to work,” Duff told her. “I’ll see you guys this evening.” He headed to his room to pull on his uniform, something nagging him in the back of his mind. Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he tried to focus on making it through another shift at a job he hated.

The three roommates went to their various shitty jobs, each feeling impatient for the day when their music would finally pay the bills and they would have to deal with huffy customers telling them to cut their hair. Needless to say, by the time they reached the Whiskey for the show they were ready to let loose and have some fun. Tonight Motley Crue had managed to snag a headlining slot, Duff, Slash, and Stevie toasting their friends’ success and lamenting their own band’s slow growth in equal measure.

“We’re gonna make it, guys!” Stevie exclaimed, people around her moving away or shielding their eyes as she glowed with enthusiasm. She waved her empty glass excitedly, slurring slightly, “I mean, I mean the crowds have been getting wild for us! And the stuff we’ve recorded is fucking badass! It’s only a matter of time before we start bringing in the big bucks!”

“God, I hope so,” Slash sighed, “this starving artist shit is getting old.”

"Guess you could catch and eat a snake," someone said. Stevie turned and smiled.

"Kelly!" She gave him a hug.

"Hey glowstick," Kelly laughed. "You look rested."

"I am. Thank you." She kissed his cheek.

Duff smiled tensely as he gave Kelly a high five, “Hey man.”

Slash rolled his eyes as Kelly shot him a knowing look, grinning, “Sup guys. Word on the street is you’re having some domestic troubles,” he elbowed Stevie playfully, “This gal was lighting up the place when she first came over.”

“Yeah,” Duff grimaced as he admitted, “It’s taking some getting used to.”

“I can imagine,” Kelly raised an eyebrow. The first night Stevie had arrived on his doorstep he’d had to wear sunglasses as she ranted and raved and lamented about the whole situation, “I mean, you’ve all got annoying ass powers-” he ignored the three offended outcries, “-and you live in a shoebox. Of course you’re stepping on each others’ toes.”

"At least we don't have axl…" slash pointed out.

"Don't have me for what?" Axl said as he approached the group, Baz's arm around his shoulder.

"In our shoebox home," Stevie told him.

“Excuse you, I am a goddamn delight and any house would be lucky to have me!” the singer huffed.

“You tell ‘em, babe,” Baz grinned.

"When you yell, you'd blow down a wall…" Slash commented.

“Fuck you, my control is impeccable!” Axl growled and Kelly raised his hands before a fight could break out.

"Let's get some drinks," he told them. "I'm buying."

"My hero," Stevie laughed. Kelly had an arm around her waist. Izzy was sitting at a booth, which Kelly spotted and brought everyone over to him.

Raising his head, Izzy nodded in greeting, “Hey guys, here to see the Crue?” he gestured at the stage where Nikki was, as usual, on fire.

Laughing, Stevie slid into the booth next to him, “Yup! What are you doing over here all by your lonesome?”

“Brooding,” Axl, Baz, and Slash all answered simultaneously.

Glaring, Izzy huffed, “I was enjoying some peace for once in my life, fuck you very much.”

"Maybe later," Stevie giggles, making Izzy's cheeks burn bright red.

"Their act is lame," Axl rolled his eyes. "Fire again? Really?"

“I mean, you gotta respect their commitment to the brand,” Slash shrugged.

The group downed their drinks, bickering and joking and occasionally remembering to cheer for the Crue. Before they knew it, the set was finishing up, Stevie shining extra bright as they applauded the band as they left the stage.

Izzy glanced between Stevie and Duff with forced nonchalance, “So, how’s the living situation going?”

Shrugging, Stevie answered, “Getting better I guess. Duff’s still not used to Slash camouflaging with the couch,” she snickered.

Duff threw his arms in the air in exasperation, “Gee, I’m sorry I’m used to living in places where you don’t have to pat down every surface in case there’s a hidden guitarist there!”

“Apology accepted,” Slash grinned, the bassist shoving him as he laughed.

“Ugh, I just can’t wait until we can have some more space,” Stevie groaned, “I love you guys, but fuck man, some elbow room would be nice.”

Izzy, Axl, and Baz, nodded their heads sympathetically, their own living situations only marginally better than the trio’s. Meanwhile, Kelly hummed in consideration.

“You could always stay at my place for awhile if you want,” he shrugged.

Stevie giggled, slapping a hand over her mouth when she saw the group squint from her light, “Kelly,” she patted his shoulder, “that’s sweet of you dude, but you live in a shitty studio apartment in the slums. Just having me over was a stretch.”

“No, no,” Kelly shook his head, “I meant my other place.”

Silence stretched as six pairs of eyes stared at Kelly in confusion.

“....What?” Slash finally broke the silence.

“You know, my other place,” Kelly said casually, “the one on Mulholland?” When the stares continued, he furrowed his brows, “Have I never mentioned it before?”

“No,” Duff answered emphatically, “No you have not. What the Fuck?”

“Huh.” It was maybe a little annoying sometimes, but it wasn’t Kelly’s fault he couldn’t remember who he’d told what to. After all, the bassist was more or less immortal, his mutant healing factor fucking with his aging until he found himself stuck as a twenty-something for God only knew how long. So if his memory was a little sketchy, well, who could blame him?

The drugs and alcohol probably didn’t help either. But that was besides the point.

“Well, yeah. I have another place. It’s a house, got like, eleven bedrooms if I’m remembering correctly? It’s also got-”

“Woah, woah, woah, dude,” Baz waved his hands, “Hold up. Did you just say eleven bedrooms?”

“Give or take,” he shrugged.

“So…. it’s a mansion,” Axl stated, voice unnervingly blank, “You have a mansion.”

“I guess, yeah…”

As Axl sucked in a long, deep breath, Kelly realized that he had made a huge mistake.

“WHAT?!” It was honestly impressive how Axl managed to shriek at ear splitting levels without any of his mutant ability coming through. Still, even his human-level screeching had the group flinching.

The singer slammed his hands on the table, glasses shaking as he glared at Kelly in shock and fury, “You’re telling me that we’ve all be living on top of each other in fucking sqalor and this whole time you’ve had a goddamn mansion?”

“Who has a mansion?”

Kelly would give anything for Sebastian’s ability to teleport right now. Because when he turned around, he found the members of Motley Crue staring at him hungrily, and he suddenly felt like he was surrounded by hyenas.

He probably should have waited until it was just him and Stevie before mentioning the house.

"Uh, hi guys," Kelly laughed. "What brings you here?"

"You have a mansion and didn't tell us?" Tommy pouted. "I thought you loved us."

"Dude the 60s fucked my brain. I can't remember shit," Kelly laughed.

"Which 60s?" Vince smirked.

"Yes." Kelly nodded, dodging the question. "So, I'm just gonna go…"

He was half standing when Duff’s unfairly long arm shot out from across the table, palm landing solidly against the back of the booth to box Kelly in.

“Oh I think the fuck not,” he stated firmly, a quick rumble of thunder sounding through the dirty window behind him. The dramatic motherfucker.

“Yeah, you’re not getting away that easily,” Tommy laughed as he and his bandmates dragged some chairs over to sit around the booth, adding another layer of defense to keep Kelly trapped, “Come on man, I wanna know more! Like, dude, if you’ve got a legit place, why aren’t you living there?”

Sighing in resignation, Kelly settled back in his seat and shrugged, “I dunno, I just like being closer to the action I guess,” he smirked, “It gets annoying having to drive twenty minutes just to get some pussy.”

“What, none of your fancy ass neighbors cut it?” Vince teased.

“I mean, there was one dude I used to hook up with, but that was in the… 30s I think? I dunno, all I know is he, like most of my neighbors, aren’t exactly at an age that can… keep up with me,” he winked mischievously as the group snickered.

Slash shook his head, “Dude, I get that, but personally I give fuck all about the age demographic, you’ve actually got a decent fucking roof, man!”

“I mean there’s the commute into the Strip, too, y’know?” Kelly argued.

“Oh no, how will I survive the commute?” Baz whined sarcastically, sticking his tongue out when Kelly flipped the teleporter off.

"It needs a lot of work," Kelly added. "Like weeds and shit and…"

"Dude, we have a gardener," Nikki motioned to Vince.

"And spiders?" Kelly pointed out.

"I'll feed them to my snake...that I most definitely do not have…" Slash's eyes darted to Stevie quickly before glancing away again.

"Can we at least see it?" Stevie asked. "You know how much I love decorating."

"Please no kiss posters in the living room," Mick groaned.

“Why do you hate art?” Stevie pouted jokingly.

Meanwhile, Kelly sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “I’m not getting out of this one am I?”

A chorus of “no”s answered him.

Rolling his eyes, Kelly threw his hands up in defeat, “Fine, I guess I can show you around sometime this week. What’s the worst that could happen?”

At that moment, loud, ominous cracks of thunder and lightning rattled the windows behind them. The group snapped to look at Duff in exasperation. The blonde bassist merely shrugged.

“What? Am I wrong?”

[realityhelixcreates]

Lasabrjotr Chapter 67: Cauldron of Despair

Chapters: 67/?

Fandom: Thor (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe

Rating: Mature Warnings:

Relationships: Loki x Reader (There We Go)

Characters: Loki (Marvel), Thor (Marvel)

Additional Tags: Post-Endgame: Best Possible Ending (Canon-Divergent), Loki Has A Bad Time, But Like, Dude Did Some Bad Shit

Summary:  It’s easy to forget what he did.

Thor circled the Frost Giant's corpse trying to decide what to do about it.

“Well. This is a mess.” He said, staring down into his brother's azure face. “And I'm not just talking about body cleanup.”

“She doesn't listen!” Loki seethed. “Why does she always go headlong into danger; does she not realize what it does to me? I have never run so fast in my life!”

“Mortal women seem blessed with an excess of virtues.” Thor shrugged. “Curiosity, courage, and responsibility among them. Jane was no different. You remember.”

“I do. I also remember that she managed to avoid getting badly hurt, because she knew how to run and hide!”

“Perhaps. But she also-”

“Norns, I don't care! Get this thing off me, you great oaf!”

“Temper, temper.” Thor chided, rolling the body over with his boot. “You're so angry, you've gone blue in the face.”

“I will kill you.” Loki snarled, squirming free.

“You were certainly insistent that she not see you. Still keeping that secret?”

“Shut up. We have to get this cleaned up. We have to assess the damage, and we have to check the tunnels for more. How did it get here? Is it a relic from the old war? How many are down there?”

“I will go check.” Thor volunteered. “You should go to the healing wing and try to calm things down. No doubt it's a little hectic there right now.”

Loki nodded, waiting the few moments it took to regain his milky complexion, then the brothers parted ways for opposite sides of the palace complex.

                                                                                                                                                    *****

“So he was frozen in here? Like some kind of cell?” Thor glanced around the scintillating bubble in the ice. There was a large slot in one wall, where the giant had presumably been sleeping. There were objects strewn about, covered in ice, that to Thor, looked like they could be a Frost Giant's version of a soldier's mess kit.

Thor knew that no humans had been down in these tunnels. The government of Iceland hadn't even known they were there. This Jotun must have been here for a very long time, sleeping in the ice. Perhaps a trapped soldier, perhaps a lost traveler.

His journey was over now. It was actually rather unfortunate, Thor mused. Even though they had invaded and killed many humans, a Frost Giant could do much good on Earth now. They could generate ice at will. On a world where important glaciers were rapidly disappearing, a Frost Giant ally could be quite successful.

How frightened he must have been, to wake up suddenly, alone, not knowing how many years had passed. Still in the mindset of a war that had long ended, surrounded by enemies. Everywhere he ran, more enemies, more unfamiliar surroundings, more fear and desperation.

Yes, he had killed people on his rampage, and yes, Thor had killed him. But, as a warrior, Thor sympathized. This was tragic, all around.

“We need to clean this area out.” He said. “Gather and clean all of these objects. Do not proceed with digging unless accompanied by einherjar. We won't know if there are more until I bring Heimdall down here.”

“What shall we do if there are more, my king?” One of the clean up crew asked.

“We dig them out.” Thor said. “Slowly. Under my supervision.”

“Could we not just...leave them there?” One ventured. “Stop digging and leave them encased in ice?”

“The climate on this world is changing.” Thor explained to him. “There is a strong possibility that the ice will melt no matter what we do, and free them anyway. Best to do it under close watch, where they can be subdued, and their situation explained to them.”

“Mercy, my king?”

“It is a new age, and we are a people reborn.” Thor proclaimed. “We can try doing things in a new way.”

                                                                          *****

“She will be fine.” Bjarkhild assured Loki. “It turns out that our Blood Burn remedies are very effective on mortals. She will have sore spots on her arm for a few days, no more.”

“And Kolla?” Loki asked.

“Two broken ribs, a broken wrist, and a broken nose. She will have to stay under a Soul Forge for a week or so, but is expected to make a full recovery.”

“Very good. The messenger lad?”

Bjarkhild sighed deeply. “He will lose the arm. A terrible shame, but the damage was just too great. Perhaps if he had stayed laying down when he was hit, but pushing himself to go find you...”

Loki sat silent for a moment.

“We will Retire him.” He said finally. “It's the best we can do for him now. I will draw up the papers, if you will sign them.”

“Yes, your Highness.” Bjarkhild agreed.

Asgard loved it's heroes, and provided for them, whether military or civilian. A soldier had a pension, guaranteed care for if they were grievously injured during noble battle. A civilian, however, wasn't expected to put themselves in harm's way. For those that did, and suffered for it, there was the institution of Retirement. All of his needs would be taken care of; he would never be without food, home, quality clothing, or respect.

Bjarkhild was right. The messenger's arm might have been saved, had he simply lay still and waited for medics to come to him. But instead, he had found Loki, to warn him of the danger, which gave him the head start needed to reach you in time. This was a heroic act on par with any einherjar.

One day, they would have their technology up and running at the capacity Old Asgard once had. And if the man wanted it, a nearly seamless prosthetic could be offered. But Asgardians tended to cherish their battle wounds, which was why Odin never got an mechanical eye, and great-uncle Tyr never replaced his hand. They could have, of course, but they had earned those wounds in the defense of Asgard. It was a matter of personal pride.

“Shall I have you notified when I release her, or should I just send her to you?” Bjarkhild asked.

“Send her to me.” Loki said. “You need all your people here. How many are...”

“Beyond my help?” Bjarkhild finished. “Six. The other ten are in various stages of injury, but expected to pull through.”

Loki nodded solemnly. Six of their all-too-rare people.

He left the healing wing, noticing Gloa hovering anxiously in the corridor outside. He approached, and took her by the arm.

“Gloa, I want to thank you for-”

She whirled with a startled cry, and struck him across the face.

Loki quickly stamped down the stab of rage within him, watching the emotions fly across her features: Shock, realization, acceptance, and finally ownership over what she had just done. She jerked herself out of his grasp.

“Don't just grab me!” She snapped. “I don't care who you are, you don't have permission to lay hands on me whenever you want!”

“Gloa...” He growled.

“Don't talk to me right now. Not when your filthy kind has robbed me of yet another person I love!”

Loki flinched. Gloa's family had not come through Ragnarok whole. He knew she blamed him for it, for unleashing Surtr, and he didn't know how to explain that it had been Thor's idea without seeming like he was just passing the blame.

“Gloa, your father and uncle were brave warriors, and we honor them-”

“My father and uncle were heroes, and they died saving the people of Asgard!” Gloa interrupted. “I am satisfied for them. They rest in Valhalla with all those who died well.”

“Then why do you blame me?” He demanded.

“Not for them! For my brother!”

“Your brother?”

“You don't even remember. My brother was chosen as a guard in the Allfather's vault. We were all so proud.” Gloa scoffed bitterly. “The eve of Thor's coronation-the first one-he was guarding the Cask of Ancient Winters. He was murdered by invading Frost Giants, who sneaked in to steal it.”

And just like that Loki's throat closed, a fist of guilt squeezing his heart.

“I know it was you who let them in.” Gloa accused, tears rimming her eyes. “Maybe you didn't directly admit to it in that horrendous, self-aggrandizing play you had written about yourself, but I could read between the lines. The sick justification for your actions- all because you had decided that Thor was unfit to rule! That he didn't think things through, and he would get us killed through his bad decisions. But how are you any different? You were perfectly willing to sacrifice Asgardian lives-the very lives you claimed to have been trying to protect-for your own agenda! And it got you nothing! You shattered my family for nothing!”

Speechless, Loki stepped back under the sheer unexpected force of the tirade. What could he possibly say?

“You wanted to thank me for standing next to your little pet project? Pah! She is feeble, and brief, and weak, but she's not a coward, and she actually stood for our children. She may not be worth much, but she is still too good for you.”

Gloa stomped away, furious tears streaming down her face, leaving Loki stunned.

                                                                          *****

Thor gazed over the objects arranged on the table before him. All the scattered debris from the frozen cave, cleaned and brought to him for observation. These definitely made up a soldier's mess kit, and perhaps a higher class soldier, if the quality of the items we an indication. There were dishes and cutlery, hewn from bone and ivory, carved with foreign designs-Frost Giant art. There was decayed leather bedding and bags, waterskins, and a pack for rations that had long since rotted away.

And, untouched in the ice near where the giant had slumbered, a diary. Velum and ink from the strange sea creatures of Jotunheim, bound in leather, with ivory plates, it was a precious artifact from a thousand years before.

Thor picked up a page turning stick and very carefully opened the book. The ink that the Frost giants extracted from their oceanic beasts was thick, so thick that it raised slightly from the pages, making the letters look carved, rather than written.

Thor was not familiar with Frost Giant writing; until recently, he would not have thought they were literate at all. He had to wonder if examples of Frost Giant writing had been more common before their defeat at the hands of Asgard's armies, before the claiming of the Casket. What kind of dark age had that defeat plunged them into?

As Thor gazed at the unfamiliar runes, they resolved themselves in his mind into something he understood as if he had been raised on it; it was simply automatic. He read a few pages, absorbing what they revealed, until he realized that he could, in good conscience, read no more. This was meant for someone else.

This was meant for Loki.

                                                                           *****

Consequence. Every action set off a chain of events that never ended. Loki would never get the chance to be a good man again, because the fallout of his deeds would stretch out into forever. He would never actually be able to make amends. He could not restore Gloa's brother to life. All of eternity would pass without him. Without her brother, and without the other guard. He hadn't even considered their lives while he schemed. Hadn't known their names, nor attended their funerals. They really had just been a means to an end for him, acceptable casualties.

And he had considered himself more concerned with the safety of Asgard than Thor had been. What a fool! He had been exactly the same as his brother, only more secretive about it. Moreover, Thor's actions regarding Jotunheim, while irresponsible, had not actually cost any Asgardian lives. But Loki's actions regarding Thor's irresponsibility had. In a way, Loki had tried to play father to Thor, but he wasn't a father yet, and had failed in all of the ways he had blamed Odin for failing. And Asgard was poorer for his actions: Families shattered, people bereaved, grief and emptiness that would flow on until time ended.

Perhaps Gloa had been right all along. Perhaps he simply was the actual worst, undeserving of the happiness he had attained. Unworthy of you.

Certainly you had never done anything to endanger your world, or any others. You only had one murder under your belt, and it was not only self defense, but it had also been erased by the great reality reset. You were practically innocent. What had he actually done to earn your love?

All he had done was kidnap you and destroy your life. Take you away from your home and family, and force you into a new life and career, been rude, frightened you, kept secrets. Was still keeping secrets.

He shouldn't have yelled at you. He had been overwhelmed by fear, and adrenaline, the fog of war, but he still didn't have to yell. He had acted like an ogre to one of the few people who loved him.

His dazed wandering had brought him back to his only place of real safety; his bedroom, the black sheepsking rug in front of the faux fire. The place where he held you. He needed to hold you.

He ached for you. For your warm embrace, the comfort of you. Bjarkhild had said you would be released soon, mostly unharmed. He waited, wallowing in his torment.

He shot up to his knees the instant he heard you enter the chambers, hope suffusing him. He heard the door to your little room open and close, then nothing else.

His heart split and sank down, as he laid down flat on the rug.