#also the emphasis on the strays... like i know it seems like a stretch but what if this is gonna be a dumb situation where its like “woahh!

[brainbesplit]

with the amount of uses copper is getting in this update i just want to say if they add the copper "golem" into the game and it has that ungodly fucking nose i'm going to personally march to jens bergenstein himsefl and shave him completely bald EVERYWHERE. i will douse this man in fucking flaming nair hair remover

[antiv3nom]

You know, I'm only ever gonna ask about Bachira...

Tell me why he's the best

LMAO YOURE VALID THERE! IM HAPPY TO TALK ABOUT HIM <3 okay so disclaimer but i sort of answered a slightly different question? instead of why hes the best i felt i could better talk about why i personally love bachira so much and think hes fantastic, so please enjoy this fuckin essay of a post

okay, we have to start with the basics here. the very first thing that drew me to bachira was for SURE his character design. i mean. once again i will mention that i'm growing my hair out to look like his. and hes soooo androgynous!!! and as a nonbinary person who leans towards masc/androgynous styles im HERE FOR IT!!!! plus the yellow was already cool, even before i knew the bee fact about his name :D

and ofc there's also his personality!!! as my friend grin has. accurately read off me. my favorite characters are typically those that are surprisingly competent, and those that embody the :3 face (and thus also the >:3 face), and like. bachira is introduced as a sleepy little guy and then kicks someone in the face so he IMMEDIATELY checks both of those boxes and he really fits my character type

also, elaborating on the surprisingly competent piece—bachira is DECIDEDLY competent, but its not in a like...power sort of way? its all about his technique and his ✨ style ✨ and i really enjoy characters who are great at what they do in a more unconventional way or not having to do with their physicality (coming from a weak little bitch) and i dont know. really anything about soccer irl. but its easy enough to see that bachiras good at this shit!!!!

okay so now we get into the meaty shit, starting with his backstory <3 immediately his being an outcast...really fit, honestly, it tracks a lot for him. but it hit me HARD as someone who was/is kinda an outcast and never really had a solid group of friends until relatively recently? and just...his loneliness resonates with me, a lot. but ANYWAYS im not here to vent or anything, the other thing abt his backstory is the monster metaphor and its beginnings, because it is SO easily read as an allegory for neurodivergence (and without too much stretching, queerness as well). being set apart and left out and seen as weird because of honest, genuine passion and this undeniable part of you and just feeling like something is WRONG with you even if you love it is...such an experience that ive had. and its so so easier to see that in bachira!!!! moral of the story, bachira is bisexual and nonbinary and autistic because i am and i say so <3

anyways anyways straying away from headcanons, bachira's development arc? WRECKS ME. it's so very well done, that evolution of the prior loneliness and the desire to both be independent and to not be left behind are...gorgeous. amazing. i can and will write an essay about it. it really builds well on his backstory and what he's done in blue lock prior to that game and seeing him evolve past his monster and his need for someone to play with but not fully abandon either? it means a lot that he still values companionship even if he feels like he doesnt need it <3

moving onwards, i really adore bachiras interactions with other characters!!! the most obvious example is him and isagi, and we all know at this point how big of a bachisagi fan i am (i just think theyre neat <3 <3 <3) but a genuine FRIENDLY rivalry, emphasis on the friends, doesnt seem to pop up that often in blue lock, and its really nice to see with isagi :D and just!!!! they make each other want to be better!!! its good stuff

theres also bachira and rin, which...that shit is COMPLICATED but it's really really interesting how rin like, almost sees bachira as a rival (and thus an equal) but is the first one to really recognize the idea that bachira is still deeply lonely and dependent on having someone with him? rin is the one who kickstarts bachiras development with the line, "[your soccer] is a soccer that is looking for someone," which i will NEVER forget. i like that bachira still tries to interact with rin and crack his shell despite rins cold behavior towards him, it makes for some fun fun interactions <3

AND I HAVE TO TALK ABOUT LAVINHO. LAVINHO IS AWFUL AT BEING A RESPONSIBLE ADULT AND THAT MEANS THAT HE IS THE PERFECT MENTOR FOR BACHIRA!!!! because bachira still cares about having FUN!!!! AND WHAT HE NEEDS IS THAT SENSE OF EXCITEMENT AND CREATIVITY THAT LAVINHI BRINGS HIM!!!!!!!!! LORD THEYRE SO PERFECT TOGETHER (IN THE MENTOR/MENTEE SENSE OFC) AND I LOVE THEM

okay finally, and ik we've talked about this before, but bachira's motivations are the perfect blend of being individual enough to survive in the environment of blue lock, while still not being completely disconnected from the idea of teamwork and companionship, you know? it means a lot to me that a lot of these characters arent wholely self-centered because. well. many reasons. i could make a whole other post about egoism in bllk and why it Worries Me A Little but i wont get into it here lmao, the important part is that bachira has enough of a goal on his own that he can keep himself going without anyone else, but he WANTS to play with isagi and make friends and have that companionship that he didnt have when he was young and that just.....it resonates and means a lot <3 <3 <3

anyways, this was the definitive why i love bachira post <3 hope you enjoyed!!!!

[doublekrecs]

More Than Physics

Spencer Reid x reader

Synopsis: you notice your ta in the library and ask him for a lesson in physics to which you pay him back with pizza and a lesson in sex

Warnings: smut (no p in v action), oral (male receiving), mutual masturbation

a/n: sorry this took so long, it’s been quite a week. but i'm thinking of making this a series depending on if you like it. anyways, i hope enjoy my angels! -🧞‍♀️

also thank you guys for 400 followers!! the love means everything to us:)

part 2

They always say life just blows right past you. Which you used to think was a load of bullshit, but now on your last year of college you’re sitting in the library on the verge of tears over your physics class, reminiscing on a time long ago when freshman year you was most likely at some frat party grinding up on some beefy blond named Steve. 

You let out a loud sigh, looking around to make sure you weren’t disrupting anyone. You weren’t. The library was almost completely empty, besides just you there was a small group of people actively note taking with highlighters scattered around the table and the biggest cups of what you assumed to be coffee. Looking over to your left you saw an oddly familiar mop of curly brown hair nose deep in a thick book. Wait it was Spencer.

He was the TA for your physics class, always enthusiastic and ready to help anyone. You honestly thought he was just happy anyone was willing to listen to his rambles. From what you’ve seen he was humble for being such a genius and seemed like a really sweet guy. Always flashing you a kind smile and opening doors for anyone around him. 

Which is why you felt a sense of relief wash over you when you saw him. You had been struggling with this unit in class and no method of studying had been helping you retain knowledge. So what better way to get help than from the resident genius himself. 

You packed your stuff and made your way over to the table he set camp at. Loads of novels you couldn’t imagine yourself reading sat in stacks next to him. You tapped him on the shoulder to which he flinched after being taken out of the fantasy world he was immersed in. Looking up he offered you the same kind smile as always before whispering, “Oh hi y/n.” 

“Hey Spencer” you smiled back.

He moved a stack of books off of the chair next to his offering you a place to sit. You set your stuff down and his eyes went to the physics book in front of you. 

“How's the studying going?” he asked, putting his full attention on you. One thing about him you always admired was the way he really listened to people. No matter who it was he always made people feel heard. 

“Not so good” he frowned at the sad tone in your voice, “But I was hoping that a certain TA would be able to spare a fellow peer some help” you looked at him with pleading eyes.

“Of course, what do you need?” 

You guys had spent the better part of two hours with him helping you set up notes and explaining certain topics to the best of his ability. You noticed him yawn and check his watch. “What time is it,” you asked, trying to suppress a yawn of your own. 

“Just hit 11, the library closes in 30 minutes if you wanna stay and finish up,” he said, stretching his back out from sitting for so long. 

“No, I think we’ve done enough work for today.” You both started to pack your stuff up, making small talk as you walked out of the building. 

“Hey Spence,” he stopped walking and turned to look at you, “I really wanna thank you for all your help today. Is there any way I can repay you for this? OH! I can take you to dinner, we can go to the little pizza place around the corner. It's on me,” you offered nodding with a wide smile. 

He smiled back at your enthusiasm, “You really don’t have to thank me, I'm glad I was able to help. But I won’t say no to a slice of pizza.” 

You led him to the little spot off campus, which he of course opened the door for you. The waiter took you to a little booth where you both ordered a soda before skimming the menu. The place was cute, very homey with warm lights and oldies playing softly in the back. There was a comfortable silence before the waiter came back and took your orders. 

Spencer was very easy to talk to as he had knowledge on all topics. However you wanted to know more about him personally. So you suggested a game. Never have I ever. Yes it was childish but hey, all good friendships have to start somewhere. 

“Ok I’ll start with an example and you put a finger down if you’ve done it.” he nodded taking a bite of his pizza. You took a second to think of where to begin, “Alright never have I ever gone skinny dipping,” you stated and his eyes widened a little bit. 

He shook his head no as you encouraged him to ask a question. “Um never have I ever failed a class.” 

“Spence no,” he frowned. “This is supposed to be fun, ask risky questions c’mon don’t be shy,” you looked at him encouragingly, “what happens at the booth stays in the booth,” you said tapping on the table for emphasis.

He took your words to heart as he waited a while trying to come up with a question. “Alright, never have I ever had more than 4 partners.” you put a finger down and looked at him confused. “How many people have you dated?” he took a sip of his coke before replying, “just one.” 

“Huh,” “What?” 

“C’mon Spence you’re telling me a genius like you doesn’t have girls lined up around the corner” you said raising a suggestive eyebrow. He giggled and shook his head no looking down. 

_

The game continued but keeping track of fingers was forgotten. Pizza was long gone and the bill was paid, now it was just you guys enjoying each others company.  It was obvious Spencer was breaking out of his comfort zone as the questions kept on getting riskier. Which is how you got into the topic of sex. You had found out that apparently he had almost no experience in any of it. 

“Y/n I just don’t see what the big deal is. I mean I do ya know.. get off, so what's the point,” he said playing with his napkin. You could tell he was a little embarrassed at the admission by the tinge of pink on his cheeks. 

“The point is that sex is normal and fun and something you should be experiencing.” 

“I don’t know. I just don’t wanna have one night with a stranger then be laughed at for being inexperienced.” 

Suddenly a lightbulb appeared above your head. 

“Spencer I have an idea. And please just hear me out,” he looked at you wearily before you continued, “let me tutor you in sex stuff.”

You swear he was gonna explode at how red he was, mouth gaping like a fish out of water trying to find words to respond. 

“Listen, you spent the night helping me with something I struggle in. Let me help you with something you’re struggling in. And it could be fun, ya know just some stress relief and you get to learn some new skills.” 

Spencer was taken back by your offer. He really wanted to accept, I mean come on it's not everyday a pretty girl just offers you to have sex with her. Let alone buy you pizza beforehand. 

You might have looked collected on the outside, sipping on your dr.pepper, giving Spencer time to answer but on the inside you were a mess. What if you had pushed him too far. Why did you think it was a good idea to just offer up something like that. Your thoughts were cut off by a voice in front of you speaking up. 

“Yeah.. Let's do it.” Now you were the one gaping like s fish. But you quickly recomposed yourself. 

You looked at him with a devilish smile, reaching over the table to grab his hand. “Well then Spence, let’s go shall we?” He laced your fingers together as you got up, matching your smile. 

_

In no time you were in your dorm after the brisk walk. Little conversation was made and you were starting to think maybe he was starting to regret agreeing. Unlocking the door you looked over at him nervously biting his pink lip, something you’d like to do. “You can just come in and we can watch a movie if you want. I don’t wanna pressure you into anything.” 

He looked over at you, big brown eyes gazing softly into yours, “I really wanna do this. Please.” 

“Alright pretty boy make yourself comfortable we’ll start off easy.”

You guided him to sit on your couch as you sat next to him. There was a moment of silence where you both just looked from each other's eyes to lips longingly. Neither were sure who leaned in first but your lips met in the middle, calm at first before the storm. His hands went to grasp the sides of your face, pulling you further into him. You took the time to adjust and settle on his lap, one hand on his shoulder while the other nested in his hair, causing him to let a groan in your mouth when you tugged it slightly. You’d save that for another time.

The time came for you both to pull away for air. His forehead resting on yours as you caught your breath. 

“As great as that was,” you said punctuating with a kiss. He tried to chase your lips as you pulled away to continue talking. “You can move your hands, I won’t break. Nowhere is out of bounds,” you said nodding encouragingly. 

His hands were warm, moving down slowly to your hips. You leaned back in, this time the kisses were slower but held the same desire. Again his hands stayed in the same place so you put yours over his and guided them up and down. He gained some confidence after you let go, his hands now straying to your ass giving it a squeeze. You could feel the smile on his lips at the gasp you let out. 

Making out soon led to desperate whimpers and a steady grind of trying to gain more friction. The feel of him hardening beneath you made you moan as the thin fabric of the leggings you were wearing did little to nothing to conceal it. You pulled away to start pressing wet kisses to his neck. You knew you had found his sweet spot under his ear when he shuddered. Your hand went down to palm him over his pants. Spencer jolted at the touch. 

“Fuck y/n,” he let out as a soft sigh. You took the opportunity to unzip his pants. Looking into his auburn eyes for confirmation to keep going he gave a silent nod, prompting you to take him out of his pants. It was pretty and pink, already weeping with precum you couldn’t wait to get your mouth on. Wasting no time you used your thumb to swipe some off to use as lubricant to start pumping his shaft. 

You went down to a spot between his knees, taking his hand in yours to set in your hair. He seemed to catch on quick as he pushed some out of your face to see your pretty eyes looking up at him while you sucked him off.  Under his soft exterior, shockingly Spencer swore like a sailor. Letting out constant “shit you’re so good” or a long “fuck” under his breath. 

You could tell he was getting close by the way you felt his cock throbbing. You stopped sucking, instead using your hand to keep stimulating him as you said, “It’s alright Spence you’re doing so good for me. Where do you wanna cum?” His eyes shifting down to your low cut v-neck said it all. You motioned for him to replace your hand with his own, quickly discarding the shirt leaving you in a pretty lacy bra. He was confused as to what you were doing when you started to pull off your leggings, but as your hand slipped down into your matching panties things started clicking. 

You were already worked up from the heavy touching and listening to his groans that it was easy for you to slip a finger into your wet heat, letting out a moan at the feeling. His eyes kept on roaming all over your body. The sight of your chest heaving and the glistening between your thighs was enough to set him off. 

You added another finger and matched the pace he was pumping himself at. Not taking your eyes off his hands, so big and veiny. 

“Ah Spencer, I'm so close baby. Please cum with me,” you let out along with little whimpers. Hearing his name on your lips was his end as his orgasm washed over him. Ropes of his cum spilling over his palm. Your release came soon after, rubbing your clit, gasping at the tightness in your tummy bursting. 

You both calmed down and met each other's gaze with a soft smile. Picking up your t-shirt you told him to stay put as you went to grab a towel for him to clean up. “So, not bad for our first ‘lesson’, you said walking back and sitting next to him. 

His cheeks were tinted pink from seeing how exposed you were in front of him but he had the courage to respond, “Not bad at all. I can’t wait for what else you can show me.”

[jaskiers-sweetkiss]

Sunset Swerve - Part 11

Pairing: Luke Patterson x OC

Word Count: 3.3K

Warnings: discussions of death, one mention of suicide, swearing probably

A/N: I can’t believe there’s only one more chapter and maybe an epilogue after this! Our journey is almost over. Just a heads up, the first part of this is kinda heavy as Jordan grieves but things lighten up along the way! As always, let me know what you think and you can message me/send me an ask if you’d like to be added to my taglist!

Part 10  Masterlist

___

Jordan couldn’t properly explain how grateful she was for Luke’s hand in hers as Willie delivered the worst news she’d heard in her afterlife. She tried not to look too much into it, he was just returning the favor from his birthday. Still, she couldn’t deny the comfort she felt from it, like he was offering to share the weight of the situation with her.

She leaned into that comfort as the four ghosts went their separate ways. She spent the night in the loft wrapped up in his arms. Once they were alone she let herself cry, burying her face into his chest as he rubbed her back softly, holding her close to him.

They stayed that way until the sun came up, his arms wrapped tightly around her as she curled into him. They didn’t talk at all, neither of them really knowing what to say. Jordan wanted to scream at the world, to curse everyone and everything for taking her parents away from her once again. Instead, she relished in the silence, in the comfort of the arms around her. There would be time to scream tomorrow, but for the time being, she needed someone to help her carry the weight of her pain.

There was also a part of her that relished in the feelings of his arms around her, the warmth of his chest, the pleasant smell of his flannel which he’d wrapped around her when they left the Walk of Fame, insisting that she needed it more than him. The part of her that made butterflies swoop around her stomach and her head spin whenever they were this close.

She didn’t want to think about this part of her brain right now, Luke was only doing this because he cared. They were friends now (they’d actually been friends for a while, she realized) and friends were there for each other when they lost their parents, just like he’d been there for her twenty-five years ago. Just like she’d been there for him on his birthday.

Not to mention the guilt she felt every time her mind drifted away from thoughts of her parents to how comfortable but strong Luke’s chest was or how nice he smelled. She was losing her parents again and all she could think about was a boy.

She never stopped to consider that it was a testament to Luke’s comfort that her mind was able to stray at all.

Only once the sun came up and the world began to stir around them, the other boys returning and the lights in the Molina’s house started to flick on, did Luke speak as they untangled from each other.

“Are you okay?” He asked softly, his arms still wrapped loosely around her as she pulled away. “I mean, of course you’re not, but-“

“No, I’m not,” she agreed, her voice coming out rough after the night of crying. He could see the tear stains on her cheeks now and it broke his heart. “I think I need some time alone today.”

“Okay,” he said eagerly, stretching his legs out and reaching for his flannel as she fully pulled herself away from him. “Okay, we can go-“

“No, Luke,” she said firmly but she knew she sounded weak and exhausted. “Just me.”

“I don’t want to leave you by yourself like this.”

“What am I gonna do? Kill myself?” She responded bitterly, raising her arms at the side as a reminder of their physical state, or lack thereof.

“Jordan-“ he gasped, reaching out for her but she stepped back.

“I just need some time,” she insisted, the rest of her statement remaining silent. ‘Time to process without thinking about you.’

___

She reappeared in the cemetery, this time taking a seat in front of the double grave next to her own.

The last time she was there she’d been puzzling at mortality and the bizarre and unfair nature of the situation she’d found herself in. This time wasn’t so different, but rather than mourning herself she was once again mourning her parents. The two most important people in her life who were once again being ripped from her.

She didn’t know how long she sat there, unable to read the names on the tombstone in front of her, staring at the grass just in front of it. Briefly, she wished she had been able to bring them flowers. Time passed so differently as a ghost and her spiraling thoughts didn’t help any. The time she spent there was muddled and tear-filled. She thought at one point she pleaded with them to come back to her. At another point, she prayed to whatever gods she could think of.

No one answered and so she remained.

She was finally drawn out of her mind by the sound of footsteps moving towards her. She turned, expecting to see a fellow mourner but instead meeting Julie’s eyes.

She sniffled, turning back towards the grave, not bothering to hide her tears.

“Do you mind if I sit?” Julie asked softly when she finally reached her.

Jordan shook her head, not turning to look as her friend sat in the grass beside her.

“Luke told me everything,” Julie spoke up after they had sat in silence for a few minutes, “About Caleb and the curse, and the Orpheum, and crossing over.”

“I’m sorry we’re leaving you,” Jordan whispered, pulling her knees tighter to her chest.

“Me too,” Julie responded quietly, “I was really mad- I still am- but then Flynn and I talked and she reminded me that I’m not the only one who’s lost people.”

They let her words hang in the air for a moment before Jordan finally spoke, the words catching in her throat as they went.

“It feels like I’m losing them all over again.”

Julie nodded and Jordan caught the movement from the corner of her eye.

“I can’t even imagine what that’s like,” she whispered, likely thinking about her own mom. “But hope isn’t lost. We just have to make sure you guys cross over in time.”

“They’re never gonna let us play the Orpheum,” Jordan dismissed, resting her chin on her knees as she stared tearfully at the ground, the anger welling up at her situation being overpowered by the hopelessness of it all.

“They will, they just have to hear us play and-“

“It’s okay Julie, I’ve resigned myself to the fact,” Jordan interrupted.

“Well I haven’t,” Julie said firmly before taking a shaky breath as if trying to brace herself for what she was going to say next.

“I lost my mom, and I’m not getting her back anytime soon.” Her voice cracked. “The least I can do is make sure you don’t lose yours too.”

___

When Julie and Jordan arrived at the studio they found the guys looking about as hopeless as Jordan felt. It was nice to know she wasn’t alone, but it hurt her to see them this way.

Reggie was sitting sideways in one of the chairs, looking mournfully at his bass while Alex laid across the couch, attempting to balance one of his drumsticks in his nose, and Luke sat on the floor between them. The scene itself wasn’t out of the ordinary, Jordan had watched them spend many a boring afternoon this way, but it was clear that the tone had shifted. They weren’t biding their time until Julie got home from school. They were biding their time until they died again.

“Snap out of it!” Julie yelled, startling the three boys who didn’t seem to have noticed their presence, Alex falling off the couch in shock.

“Geez, I think you broke Alex,” Reggie spoke, though his usually light, teasing tone was absent.

Once Luke helped push Alex off his lap and back onto the couch he patted the ground by his side in a silent invitation for Jordan to join him. Once she had sat down next to him, knees pulled up to her chest once more, he slipped a comforting arm around her, hand resting on her waist. If the rest of the group noticed, they didn’t say anything.

“Do you guys wanna cross over or what?” Julie asked, giving the ghosts a borderline disapproving look before getting frustrated by their silence. “Get it together!” She exclaimed, clapping her hands with each word for extra emphasis.

“They’re never gonna let us play the Orpheum,” Luke spoke, echoing Jordan’s words from earlier.

“We’re nobodies,” Alex added on, matching Luke’s dejected tone.

“We’re less than nobodies,” Reggie chimed in. “We have no bodies.”

Luke lifted his arm to point affirmatively at Reggie and Jordan almost laughed, but she couldn’t quite find it in her.

“Someone once told me that you don’t ask for permission,” Julie spoke, turning to address Luke specifically, “You book gigs by doing.”

Jordan rolled her eyes at the smug look that had appeared on Luke’s face, throwing an elbow into his side in an attempt to wipe away the expression.

“Ah yes, the Dumb-set Curve motto,” Jordan scoffed. In retaliation Luke used the hand already resting on her waist to jab at her side, causing her to curse and glare at him while he grinned cheekily.

“This isn’t over,” Julie spoke to the group, refocusing their attention. “We were brought together for a reason! To help each other.”

“Yeah, but like Luke said, people don’t just play the Orpheum because they want to,” Alex sighed and the rest of the ghosts nodded in agreement, the smile slipping off Luke’s face again.

“People don’t,” Julie agreed, “But ghosts do.”

Jordan turned to stare at Julie, her head tilted and eyebrows knitted together in confusion and curiosity.

“I have a plan,” Julie said before launching into an explanation.

There would be a show at the Orpheum that Friday night. All they needed to do was get rid of the opening act and get the promoter to offer the gig to them. This could actually work. For the first time since Jordan heard the news from Willie she actually began to feel hopeful.

___

Alex had managed to enlist Willie to their cause which was fortunate because Jordan was pretty sure none of the rest of them could drive a bus.

The four ghosts stood outside the Orpheum that Friday afternoon anxiously waiting for Willie to appear. Jordan had grabbed Luke’s hand early on and neither one had let go. It seemed that everyone’s spirits were higher that day than they were the day before, as Jordan noticed both Reggie and Alex occasionally glancing at their entwined hands and sharing knowing looks. She wasn’t quite back to where she’d be able to yell at them for it.

She had just started to contemplate if she’d still be holding Luke’s hand if it didn’t feel like the only thing keeping her grounded while everything fell apart around her when they were struck by another jolt, immediately tearing her from her thoughts.

“Hey, you guys okay?” Willie asked, appearing behind them as they each clutched their chests where the jolt hit them.

“Yeah,” Alex answered, the first to turn around and face the skater ghost. “Yeah, it’s nothing we haven’t felt before.”

“How’d it go?” Jordan asked, trying not to sound too hopeful. There was always the chance that their plan wouldn’t work.

“Well, when that opening band wakes up they’re going to find their bus two-hundred miles outside Vegas with no chance of getting back in time!” Willie announced with a giggle, adding a spin to emphasize his success.

“And that means there’s probably a promoter upstairs right about now freaking out,” Luke spoke, bumping his shoulder excitedly against Jordan’s with a grin, causing the girl to grin back at him.

“Nah, this is Hollywood man. I’m sure he’s being very professional,” Willie contradicted and Jordan rolled her eyes, not believing it for a second.

“Sure he is,” she said sarcastically.

The group lapsed into a tense silence after that, no one knowing what to say. A moment later Alex stepped closer to Willie, the two boys clearly about to have a moment. Jordan tugged on Luke’s hand, guiding him away to give Alex and Willie some privacy, and Luke gestured for Reggie to do the same.

“Jordan are you doing alright?” Reggie asked, trying to fill the silence while Alex and Willie spoke behind them. “We didn’t see much of you yesterday and you’ve seemed a bit… lost, since the other night.”

She couldn’t help the way her heart warmed at the fact that he’d noticed and cared enough to inquire about her, but she also couldn’t help the way her stomach dropped at the prospect of having to tell him what was going on.

“Reg, Jordan’s doesn’t have to-“ Luke began to cover for her but she squeezed his hand, stopping his words.

“It’s okay, Luke,” she said quietly before addressing the dark-haired boy. “How about if the plan works I’ll tell you, hmm?”

Reggie nodded, cheeks slightly flushed in embarrassment at having overstepped.

The sound of Willie skateboarding away pulled them all from their thoughts, the three ghosts turning to rejoin Alex.

“Alex, you alright man?” Luke asked.

“Yeah,” Alex said, and Jordan was surprised that while he seemed to be psyching himself up to say it, he sounded sincere. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

“Well, thanks to Willie, Panic! at the Disco needs an opening band,” Luke grinned, giving Jordan’s hand a quick squeeze in reassurance and excitement.

“Then I guess there’s someone up there that needs to know we’re available,” Alex responded and the group shared knowing smiles before poofing up onto the Orpheum office.

They were immediately greeted by the screams and shouts of an angry promoter.

“Stop saying the bus drove itself! Busses don’t drive themselves!” The bald man yelled into the receiver before slamming the phone down several times.

“Yeah, total pro,” Jordan muttered sarcastically, rolling her eyes at the grown man’s temper tantrum.

“Alright, boys- and girl-“ Luke squeezed her hand and Jordan was reminded of the night they died when Luke had addressed them similarly. “Let the magic happen. Alex, no dancing.”

Luke smirked when Alex jumped into a ballet pose before gracefully twirling behind the assistant’s desk and knocking over her pencil cup. Jordan grinned, jumping into action with the other boys as she poofed over to Alex, snatching the pen from his hand as she wrote down Julie’s name and number on a sticky note.

They all stepped away at once, Jordan dropping her pen on the paper as if it had burnt her, as the woman stood back up, having collected her belongings off the floor. Once she was back in her seat she was greeted by the sounds of Edge of Great playing through her computer speakers. Her bewildered expression was replaced with an impressed look as she watched their performance and the ghost surrounding her all shared a proud smile.

“Tasha! Get CJ on the phone, tell him I need a new band in three hours,” the promoter demanded.

“Sure, but you, might wanna check this out,” she said, and the promoter hung up the phone before walking over to see what she was talking about. Jordan poofed back to Luke’s side to stay out of the man’s way as he stood in the place she had just been. “Somehow this video started playing on my laptop. It got half a million hits in just two days.”

“Who are they?”

“They’re a hologram band. They call themselves Julie and the Phantoms.”

“Tell your friends,” Reggie chimed in even though neither of the lifers could hear him.

“Where are they located?” The promoter asked.

“Our very own City of Angel.”

“Book ‘em!” The producer exclaimed as if he couldn’t believe they were even having this conversation.

The band of ghosts cheered as Tasha stared puzzled at the pad of paper on her desk. She looked around suspiciously as she examined the contact information for Julie and the Phantoms.

“Wow your handwriting is better than mine,” Luke admitted grumpily as they all leaned over the woman’s shoulder.

“Obviously,” Jordan shot back snarkily with her signature eye roll and Luke reached down to rejoin their hands, smiling softly down at her and sending the butterflies in her stomach aflutter.

They poofed back to the studio after that, immediately greeted by an extremely anxious Julie pacing back and forth.

“Oh my gosh! What took you so long? Did Willie do it? Did you talk to them? Did they watch? Did they like us? Are we playing? Can someone answer me? Why is no one talking?” Julie questioned them rapid-fire, her arms waving around wildly as she did.

“Woah! That’s a lot of questions!” Reggie exclaimed, eyes wide. “Luke, you wanna take this one?”

“Take a seat,” Luke instructed, Julie sitting on the edge of the couch while the four ghosts gathered on the floor across from her.

“Everything’s fine,” Jordan chimed in, hoping to ease her friend’s worries.

“Yeah, you should be getting a call right…now!” Alex exclaimed, pointing at Julie’s phone in the middle of the coffee table however the screen remained blank.

Julie looked worriedly between the four ghosts before Alex spoke up again.

“Okay. Right… now!” Alex tried again, this time the phone ringing a second later.

Julie cheered excitedly, staring expectantly at the ghosts in front of her while the phone continued to ring.

“Answer it!” Jordan exclaimed while the guys gestured franticly towards the device.

“Oh! Right!” Julie slid her finger across the screen, answering the call. “Hello!”

“Hi, this is Tasha from the Orpheum in Hollywood,” the woman’s voice came through the speakers.

The room was suddenly filled with energy as the band began jumping around excitedly.

“Is this Julie of Julie and the Phantoms?” The woman’s voice rang out and Julie flung her arms out causing the ghosts to freeze their actions before she leaned forwards to scoop up her phone.

“Yes, it is,” Julie responded.

The room erupted once more into cheers from the ghosts and silent screams from Julie as they jumped around the studio. They were playing the Orpheum!

For the first time in over twenty-four hours, Jordan wasn’t thinking about her parents, her head filled with the brown-haired boy who was still clutching her hand even in his excitement and who’s smile created flurries of butterflies in her stomach and caused her heart to swell with emotions she could quite explain.

Too caught up in her feelings and the excitement of the moment to think about what she was doing, Jordan tilted up onto her tip-toes and planted a quick kiss on Luke’s cheek before pulling away to jump celebrate with Alex and Reggie. However, before she could get far, Luke was pulling her back by their still-connected hands.

“You missed,” he said quietly before he leaned down and connected their lips.

The kiss was brief but felt like it lasted an eternity. Jordan’s mind went completely blank and her body moved on autopilot, gripping Luke’s hand like it was the only thing tethering her to existence. In the back of her mind, she registered the end of Julie’s phone call with the woman from the Orpheum and Alex and Reggie’s cheers dying off. If her brain hadn’t short-circuited she probably would’ve connected the sudden silence with the rest of the band staring at her and Luke however that reality didn’t hit her until they pulled away.

Their cheeks flushed as they stepped away from each other, meeting each other’s eyes just long enough for Jordan to give him a brief smile before letting go of his hand and skipping excitedly towards Alex and Reggie who seemed torn between wanting to comment and pretending they hadn’t seen.

“Say something and I promise I’ll find a way to kill you both again,” Jordan threatened cheerfully as she threw her arms around their shoulders before tilting her head back and shouting excitedly, “We’re playing the Orpheum!”

“We’re playing the Orpheum, baby!” Julie repeated throwing her arms into the air and the guys all responded with whoops and cheers, Luke and Jordan’s kiss momentarily forgotten.

Part 12

___

JATP Taglist: @meangirlsx @morganayennefertyrell

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[alderaani]

the shape of silence

this little fic is a gift for @hobiiwan as part of the @starwarssecretsanta event - i really hope that you like it! thanks so much to @lilhawkeye3​ for organising the event, it has been a really lovely thing to look forward to 🥰

summary: it has been two weeks since Nevarro, and Din is still trying to wrap his head around the quest he’s been given. he lands the Crest on a remote, wintery planet so that he can regroup and get his bearings | also readable on AO3

warnings: none, this is just a little fluffy winter-themed piece!

It’s too quiet. There’s the rumbling of the engine of course, the ever-present beat of the Crest’s mechanical heart, but apart from that…there is nothing. The deafening quiet of space lingers on the edge of his mind, like a predator hovering just out of sight. It sounds like it always does, after the bounty has been brought on board and sealed in carbonite, when Din is left exactly how he likes things. Alone, with his own thoughts.

Except this time, he isn’t. Silence, it turns out, can be very deceptive.

There is a clank somewhere deep in the hold and Din jumps, tripping over the corner of a storage crate and dropping the tarp he’d been trying to look under.

“Come on, kid…” he mutters, running a flustered hand over the top of his helmet. “Don’t do this to me.”

Something else rattles, ringing sharply through the durasteel. Somewhere in the gloom a little satisfied giggle echoes, a funny trilling sound that makes him smile through the sharp exasperation in his chest. Din sighs, slumping against the crate.

“I know you’re in there,” he tells the selection of equipment around him. There is no answer, but the silence feels bated, interested. Like someone is listening. “You’ve got to come out sooner or later.”

There is another giggle and the sound of many small things tinkling as they fall. Din groans and tips his head back.

“Anything you spill, you clean up on this ship,” he says, trying to be threatening, but even he can hear the defeat in his own voice. When there is more suspiciously long silence, he sighs again and crouches, lifting up the edge of the tarp and turning his heat sensors back on. Cold blue shapes swim muzzily on the HUD, and he’s just about to give up again and move on when a patch of orange flashes by. The little womp rat is back here all right, just as he suspected. A little bloom of relief spreads headily through him, but it’s not enough to dull the panic that has plagued him for the past several hours, from the moment he turned around in the pilot’s chair and realised the kid had vanished. 

The orange blur solidifies into a dense blob of red as the child comes out from behind more of the junk that Din has accumulated on jobs. Odds and ends mostly, things bounties had with them when they were taken and he’d kept because they’d looked useful. Boxes of scrap so that he can put the Crest back together when it is inevitably damaged. Stuff one absolutely would not want a small, overly curious infant to have full unrestrained access to. Din has seen the kid put a live frog into his mouth, so his opinion of the little gremlin’s judgement is not especially high. He keeps meaning to clear up, but he has yet to figure out how to baby proof a ship when the baby in question can move things with his mind.

The Razor Crest is not a big ship, but Din has quickly learned that that is very much a matter of perspective. He’d buckle the kid down if he thought it would work, but those little fingers are fast; he figured out the controls on his sleeping pod almost before Din did. The fact of the matter is that the child does not get put anywhere. He will tolerate being placed, if Din is lucky. Today he wasn’t.

The patch of glowing red shifts as Din watches. The child stoops, one small clawed hand reaching out to paw at the ground.

“I can see you, kid.” The red blob straightens, and then the shape of two large ears rotate in his direction. “Yeah, that’s right. We’re landing soon, get out here.”

There is a questioning chirp, and then the child is moving, emerging from the gloom. Din flicks off the heat sensors and looks down into a pair of large brown eyes as a body shuffles up to his leg and latches on to the fabric of his trousers with one hand. The other is closed tight, but Din catches a glint of silver through his fingers.

“Hey, what have you got there?” He plucks the kid up by the back of his robe and tucks him into the crook of one arm, then holds his free hand in front of his face, palm up. “Come on, hand it over.”

The kid makes no verbal response, but his ears flick down once, a dismissal if Din has ever seen one.

“I’m not negotiating,” Din says sternly, but it’s all a lie. He’s already starting to sweat a little at the look the kid gives him.

The child’s ears flicker again before he looks impassively out across the hold, hand held protectively against his midriff. Din keeps up the stalemate for a few moments, then hears something beep urgently in the cockpit. He sighs.

“Look, you give me whatever that is and I feed you. Sound good?”

This makes the child look up almost instantly, shifting in Din’s arms with a soft eager crowing noise. His hand twitches, and Din holds his breath. Then the cockpit beeps again and Din curses, half turning back towards the ladder. The kid has started making innocent burbling noises and is sitting placidly in Din’s arms, as if he hasn’t just dragged a seasoned bounty hunter on a several hour goose chase through the hull.

“I’ll double the jerky,” he pleads, patting the pouch on his belt for emphasis. “Come on kid, work with me here.”

The child grins. His little hand comes up and releases a collection of knuts and wire ends into Din’s palm, which he stows quickly into a pocket. He knows that he lost this round, but he’ll take whatever he can get at this point, so long keeps the kid alive and relatively out of trouble.

They get back into the cockpit just in time for the Crest to drop out of hyperspace, a shuddering rumble and then a familiar lurch sending him scrambling for the controls. There is a breathless, weightless moment as the sweeping dome of a planet materialises below, blotting out the stars. Din studies it quickly. Swirling grey clouds roiling within atmo, and where they break, mottled landscapes of white and green. He checks the navi-computer again for its name: Ayarth 4, cold, settled by mining colonies, covered in forest. Remote enough that not even Din knows it, because bounties clearly don’t stray here often. Perfect, in other words, for anyone that wants to lay low for a while.

As he sits in the pilot’s seat and sets the controls back to manual, Din feels a slight tugging on his boots and glances down to find the kid scaling his leg. He huffs out a laugh and moves his thigh so the womp rat can get a better grip, then can’t help the smile that spreads across his face when the kid drags himself into his lap and promptly sprawls, huffing as he draws his feet up under his robe out of the cold.

“You actually gonna take a nap, huh?” he asks, by now starting to recognise the sleepy droop to the child’s big brown eyes. It never happens when he hopes it will, but right now suits him just fine. The kid doesn’t say anything, but he curls his hand over the lip of Din’s thigh guard and rests his head on the exposed fabric, which seems answer enough.

As he lowers the ship into atmo and starts scanning the frozen ground for signs of civilization, Din reaches down to gently worry one of the baby’s ears between his fingers, sighing heavily to himself. The child weighs next to nothing, but he feels every ounce of the small body curled into his. 

The silence presses back in, interrupted this time by the roaring wind outside and the whining groan of the engines, but Din feels it all the same. He’s never minded quiet; when they were young Paz had always been the talker when necessary, happy to utilise the attention his size bestowed upon him so naturally. Din has always preferred to watch. He can read a person’s body, know exactly how they will move next in a fight, but words have too many faces.

Now though...now the silence feels too empty. He knows the deep abyss of space intimately - the feeling of great nothingness and infinite possibility stretching out in front of him. Has welcomed it, even. But there has always been something to go back to, in the past. A tether binding him to the rest of the galaxy throughout the solitary weeks and months drifting through stars. Now though, the covert is gone. They might reassemble, in time, but he has no way to find them even if they do, and so many will be gone. He has his mission, and that alone has kept him going through the two lonely weeks since Nevarro, the image of those piles of empty beskar seared into his mind. 

He’s self aware enough to know that he’s running, though. Panicking, almost. When they left, he was just trying to put as much distance between himself and the planet below in case of any straggling imperials that might try to follow their trail. Now they’re just drifting between fuel stations as he tries to fit his head around finding a people he has never heard of, let alone seen. A ‘race of enemy sorcerers’ no less...all he has to work with is a name, Jedi, and the way the kid’s ears perk up when he says it. He’s good at tracking people, good at chasing them to the far reaches of the galaxy and dragging them back to wherever they belong. But this feels like catching smoke. 

The kid snuffles in his sleep and his ears twitch as debris thumps against the hull. Din watches his eyelids flicker as he dreams and sighs, directing the Crest down towards a clearing. It’s maybe a mile away from where he can see lights and dwellings nestled among the trees. Far enough away to be discrete, close enough that they can run if he needs.

Dusk is falling when he lands, casting long blue shadows against the white ground. The sky, fractured and fragmented by trees, is bleeding purple and orange from a blood red sun. As the Crest settles the snow hisses, steam billowing up around the hot engines and drifting across the windshield. The baby stirs, blinking sleepily up at Din as he runs cool down checks and flips the safety switches, locking out his codes and setting everything to standby.

“Sorry, kid,” he murmurs, settling one hand at the back of his head. It’s too much to hope that he will go back to sleep. Already his ears are pricking, his head swivelling to focus on the little of the landscape visible through the transparisteel. Din thinks that his eyes are distant sometimes - not absent, but focusing on things that he cannot see. Going beyond. It wouldn’t surprise him if the baby’s strange powers allowed him to see through walls. He can already lift beasts, strangle people and heal them with his mind - what’s one more impossible thing?

Din lifts the child off his lap and sets him in his pod, leaving him to wake up more fully as he heads back into the hold and opens the weapons cache, gearing up in quick, practised motions. The new weight of the jetpack on his shoulders is still a thrill. His last blessing from Armourer. An affirmation that this is the right path, wherever it leads.

As he slings his rifle over his shoulder there is a little chirp. He looks down in time to see the kid’s pod bump gently into the open cache door; the child has his eyes closed and brow furrowed in concentration, his hand raised. Din looks at his gauntlet and sees a little red light blinking on the pod control panel, one that he definitely did not switch on, and sighs, feeling his heart sink. 

“Very clever, kid,” he says, even as he resigns himself to never being able to find the child again. “I take it that means you’re ready to go?” 

The kid chirps again, giving him a toothy grin that falters into open amazement as the ramp hisses and lowers, revealing a world of muffled, glittering white. Snow has started falling again, a breaker of clouds rolling in to chase out the sunset and bringing the weather change with it. Din stops to wedge a spare scrap of fabric into the pod, looking critically at the child’s ears. He usually keeps the scraps on hand to clean his blasters, but they’ll do for this purpose too. 

The kid makes a funny crowing noise, reaching towards all that white, and tilts his head up at Din in silent demand.

“You’ve never seen snow before, huh? It’s cold, so keep that on. And let me know if your ears hurt.” He steps forward and fiddles with the pod controls so that that baby will stay level with him. “Best way to explain it is just to get out there. Come on.”

He finds himself almost excited as he steps out from under the metal plates of the Crest’s belly, keeping half an eye on the kid as he scans their surroundings for any hidden threat. The kid’s mouth opens in toothy delight, his brown eyes going big and dark and intense as he stares up into the darkening sky and the maze of swirling white. His little breaths puff up into the air and he reaches for it, babbling when it slides through his fingers and dissipates into the dusk. 

Then, his ears twitch, a quick reflexive motion. The kid turns to look behind him, then makes a disgruntled noise when there’s nothing there. His head tilts as he turns back to this new, interesting landscape, then his ears twitch again, flapping in a manner reminiscent of a sneeze. Din feels a smile creep onto his face as a large snowflake lands on the curve of the baby’s left ear, waiting with bated breath. He can’t stop the laugh ripping out of his throat when sure enough, the ears twitch again.

The kid whines, reaching up to cover his ears with his claws.

“It’s just the snow. It’s like rain, see?” Din says, still chuckling. He lets several flakes settle onto the back of one glove and holds it in front of the kid’s face, watching those clever little eyes latch onto the melting spots of white. The child reaches out to touch and makes a noise of consternation when the snow vanishes, bringing his hand to his mouth. “Yeah you got it, kid. It’s just water.” 

He turns back to the Crest and makes sure the ramp retracts, listening for the tell-tale triple click that means the lock has engaged. Mining communities tend to be insular, but not unpleasant. Not scavengers. He doubts there will be any trouble, but then, he thought that the kid would be a regular job, if high stakes. He’s quite done with surprises.

His breath bounces around the inside of his helmet, his boots creaking as they break through the frozen shell of the snow. It’s been a long time since he saw a view like this, even longer since he got to enjoy it.

“I say we head into the settlement and see if we can get some food. What do you think?” He says, turning back to the kid. He’s in time to see his closed eyes, to hear a coo of deep concentration - but what really gets his attention is the small wall of snow shooting towards the child’s outstretched hand.

“No, kid - wait!”

It’s too late. The force of the incoming snow sends the pod skittering, the child within flying backwards with a squeal as he is painted head to toe in white. He shakes his head like a dog, ears springing free. It’s the most disgruntled Din has ever seen him. 

“Bet you’re not gonna do that again, huh?” he chuckles, righting the pod and sweeping out the worst of the mess. 

The kid just holds his arms out, ears drooping as a lump of snow slides off the tip of his nose. Din huffs out a laugh and picks him up, tucking him under one arm and fishing out the blanket to drape over his legs. 

“When we come back later I’ll show you how to make snowballs. You had the right idea, but we’ve gotta work on your technique.” The kid huffs. “You’ve got to admit it was a little bit funny. Now, how about that food?”

The kid coos and settles his weight down, ears lifting as they set off through the trees. Din hones in on the distant flashes of strung up lights and squat houses, a warm orange glow fracturing off the ice. The child curls into the crook of his arm, now content to watch this new world unveil itself instead of bringing it to him, his face scrunching with every breath of wind. As they walk, he winds one small hand around Din’s thumb, his fingers worrying at the smooth orange leather.

Silence falls again, amplified by the way snow muffles everything, suspending them in a long unblemished moment. 

But this time, with the kid in his arms and the path stretching out in front of them, Din’s mind settles, crystallizing around the most important truth. 

Wherever it may take him, this is exactly where he’s meant to be.

[sirpoley]

On Creating a Frictionless Traveller, Addendum: the Law and Melee Combat

When making the table in Part I, I realized that every planet has a semi-hidden characteristic that balances melee combat. This was pretty astonishing to me, as it's buried pretty deep, but it's also a huge improvement to the game if implemented in your campaign.

The issue is as follows: Traveller ranged and melee combat is realistically balanced (which is to say, swords simply don't compare to laser guns). Traveller also lacks “sci-fi remedies” such as lightning swords and laser whips and whatnot: with the exception of the stunstick, melee weapons are pretty conventional renaissance or medieval era swords and so on. None of this is exactly a problem, but it's a little weird that, during character creation, there's quite a lot of emphasis on getting fancy swords and the Melee skill, especially Melee (Blade). A lot of career options dangle Melee (Blade) in front of players in a way that means it seems like it ought to be useful, but, on its face, isn't.

There's a little note in the rules that cutlasses and so on are popular boarding weapons because it reduces the chances that a stray shot will damage a ship's component, but there's not really any clear rule or system for how that would play out beyond occasional GM fiat. In practice, I'm pretty sure that if the party tried to rush a pirate ship through the airlock with cutlasses, and the pirates were willing to scuff their own ship and thus had shotguns, the results would be fairly predictable.

(At some point I might create a houserule to handle that (missed ranged attacks roll on a table of spaceship damage or something)).

It's fine to say "in this science fiction setting, combat is done with guns. Bringing a sword to a gunfight is anachronistic and suicidal." Most science fiction, Star Wars aside, takes this approach. But if that's the approach Traveller was going for, then… why are there all these rules for melee combat? Traveller, unlike, say, D20: Modern, isn't a spinoff of a fantasy game with a bunch of vestigial fantasy-genre-stuff. These rules were put in for a reason.

A related issue (again, not exactly a problem) is that laser weapons are vastly more effective than conventional firearms (unless the enemy has Reflec, though text in the book (and equipment of default NPCs) indicates that this is supposed to be a fairly rare item). Laser weapons are also more expensive, but the price of both are trivial compared to the amount of money Players will be dealing with in the trade system. So… why are there all these rules for conventional firearms?

The answer: because guns are illegal, laser guns, doubly so. On a shockingly large number of planets, anyway. Shocking to someone from a D&D background, anyway, where the expectation is that if a weapon is written on a character sheet, it's pretty much always available.

Law Level Table, Mongoose Traveller (2008) p.176

Each planet has a Government code, and a separate Law Level Table tells you which items are banned by which type of government. Most governments restrict weapons. The two most important for our purposes are "Weapons" and "Techology" (because a lot of powerful weapons are only available at advanced TL’s, also). I went through each weapon in the book and penned in the "Law Level" it becomes illegal at (this should have been in the book to begin with). The result is that nearly every planetary government restricts laser weaponry (Law level 2+ by Weapon, 3-7 by Technology, depending on the weapon in question). Some, but not all, restrict conventional firearms (Law Level 4-7+, depending on the weapon, and by around 5+, by Technology), but virtually none restrict melee weaponry, whether by restricting Weaponry or Technology. I had to make a pretty arbitrary few judgement calls (I decided any weapon with autofire, plus the extra-deadly gauss weapons, counted as "assault weapons," for example). Now, when the party goes to a planet's surface, I tell them the restrictions that planet places on weapons and technology (”Weapons Law 2+, TL13+,” for example), which they compare to the number printed on their weapon cards (see the upcoming Post II), and then they tell me if they're complying with the law or smuggling their weapons in. I have these numbers written in my notes on each planet in my GM binder.

The result of this is that there are huge stretches of the galaxy where sword-and-board fighting is prevalent (ruthlessly enforced by police who are equipped with controlled weapons), while boarding actions, which are an anything goes "wild west," are dominated by ultra-lethal laser weaponry. I know that this is the opposite dynamic  to that noted by the text on boarding actions and cutlasses, which is a discrepancy I haven't yet been able to resolve. Nonetheless, it does leave a niche for both styles of fighting.

If you, as GM, are consistent with weapon and technology control laws (which means the headache of dealing with the Law and Government tables at the back of the book), it opens up many new opportunities for PC's with unconventional skills to shine. This is especially important given Traveller's quirky character creation—players don't always have a lot of control over their character's skills, so anything that puts disparate skills on a more level playing field is worthwhile.

[shayking]

Background Noise

Chapter 1: More

“Yeah, I just landed at the airport, are you here?” I looked around at the crowd for a green fatigue uniform with a familiar face but to my dismay, I didn’t find one.

“No, but I’m on my way now. Do you have any money for food?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine.”

“Good, I’ll call you back in a bit. Go eat.”

“Wait, you’re hanging up? Why?

“I got to call my buddy and make sure he’s okay. He said he would be landing soon too.”

“Uh… okay.”

“‘Kay bye-bye.” Before I could even respond he hung up on me, ending the conversation with a tone. I groaned in annoyance as I stopped in my tracks and glared at my phone. I just wanted to talk, I just wanted attention, I was here for him after all, but I wasn’t going to admit that to him.

I stuffed my phone into my beach bag and made my way to the food court, where I was pestered and hit on by multiple men. I was on vacation visiting my boyfriend who was deployed to Puerto Rico for national guard duties. I would only be here for a little over a week catching the first plane Wednesday morning to return to Wilmington Delaware. So we had plans to make the most of my vacation. Together we chose to go to the beach and enjoy the entire first day off.

I was excited to show off my new bathing suit to him as soon as we got there. I’ve been deprived of some physical attention, so I was eager to pursue a bit of action today, so all of the extra unwanted attention was only annoying me.

Throughout the airport, I walked with my hands in front of me with my fingers intertwined. It was my way of politely saying I’m uninterested. It worked for a while as I ordered food and ate, but apparently, not everyone can take a hint.

You’d figure that at 2 a.m. people would be too tired to mess with you, but no. Here was Mr.Tall, Tan, and Handsome walking up beside me as I made my way to the escalator. I understood Spanish but to avoid any conversation I pretended I didn’t by delaying my reaction and attempting to shoot him a puzzled look.

Attempt being the operative word.

“Hola Mami.” I couldn’t help it, his deep voice commanded my attention immediately. My attention snapped to him. I tried to give immediate eye contact but he was slightly taller than I thought. He stood a full head and shoulders above me so my gaze met his loosened tie first then I dragged it up to meet his beautiful honey brown eyes.

I felt a strange sense of familiarity but I couldn’t quite place it, and I couldn’t focus long enough to care, I was melting in his constant gaze. I tore my attention from his gorgeous eyes up to his messy, wavy, wet hair. I had a deep urge to play with it, brush it back, put it up, run my hands through it, and somehow tame its disheveled appearance. Each breath wafted a light scent of alcohol, a scent I don’t particularly like, but prefer over cigarettes. I continued to scan over him. He was in a suit which made me curious about what he did for a living.

I guess I left him without a response for too long and he chose to try again, after clearing his throat.

“Hey, beautiful.” his voice once again took my breath away as I made the unconscious decision to answer this time.

“H-Hi.” I stuttered, clearing my throat and turning red. He just stared at me and tried to brush the hair out of his eyes. Annoyed, he sighed through his nose and gave up. He then stared at my wrist and seemed to get an idea as the escalator reached the first floor.

“I know you don’t know me but… can I ask a favor… please? I need help with this.” he pointed to his head and then the scrunchie on my wrist.

“I had gone to the bathroom to slick it back with water but it didn’t work for nearly as long as I needed it to.” he smiled shyly looking at the ground. His smile was infectious as I quickly answered.

“Sure.” I had to remind myself that it would be difficult without him taking a seat.

“Need me to kneel?” I couldn’t find a chair for him to sit on.

“Yes please.” Defeated, I went with my last resort which was to make him kneel but I didn’t want him to dirty his suit pants so I quickly folded my black cardigan and placed it on the ground in front of me. I also pointed at it to add emphasis on what I wanted him to do. I watched a crooked and sexy smirk stretch across his face broadcasting his deep dimples as he did so. Licking my lips as I chuckled to myself dismissing thought after thought.

When he finally chose to kneel he made a comment that took me a while to understand.

“Damn girl I don’t even know you that well.” I could hear the smile on his face as I shuffled behind him, his voice was mocking and smooth.

Then it hit me… He was joking about marriage and how I told him to kneel. I just about died when I came to this realization.

“...Wait a minute, no! I was just… I didn’t want… you to ruin your suit pants.” he leaned his back and head on me as he laughed, I could feel his laughter vibrate my rib cage. He then leaned forward and tilted his head back further to make eye contact with me.

“I know love… I was just kidding.” he chuckled a bit more. “You responded so late.”

He once again started to laugh and butterflies attacked my stomach. I continued to try to gather his hair when he spoke again, this time I leaned over his shoulder to make eye contact.

“Thank you. You’re too kind. You will make someone very happy one day, and if you ever choose to have one, I know the child will be beautiful too.”

“I hope so too.” I absent-mindedly responded, my smile was sweet and my look was far away. Refocusing on what I was doing I asked him how he wanted his hair.

“I just want as much of it out of my face and off of my ears as possible.”

“Okay, I’ll see what I can do.” I needed to pull his hair a bit to get at least the top half into the grey scrunchie but when I did he let out a sound.

“Mmn.” He had moaned a bit and he followed the moan with a low growl like he was annoyed with his reaction. I couldn’t help myself, I gripped his hair and pulled back a bit so he could look at me. I had a smug look on my face as I released him and resumed doing his hair. I pulled everything one last time to get as much as I could in the scrunchie. He let out another growl this time I leaned down to his ear.

“Easy there, tiger.” A cocky grin grew across my face as I watched him bite his lip. He grabbed my ankle as I stood up straight again, which made me jump.

“I beg your pardon, This tiger hasn’t eaten yet.”

The inappropriate mental scream for more attention from this man was unholy, But I tried my best to brush it off, Chuckling to myself as I did so.

“Oh yeah? What’s on the menu for tonight?” I asked sarcastically as I finished up his man bun.

“Rabbit.”

My body shivered, I wanted to know what that meant… but somewhere in the back of my mind I already knew.

Walking around to the front of him I examined my work, his mid-length hair was half put up with barely any hair in his face and touching his ears. It wasn’t perfect but it was the best I could do with what I had. I took a half a step forward with the toe of my heels barely touching his knee. I leaned his head up a tiny bit by his chin and began stroking stray hairs back or behind his ears. I peeked down at him only to notice that he had his eyes closed and a small smirk on his face while my dress delicately swiped at his face. He once again took a hold of my ankle only this time I didn’t jump but it did send a weird wave through my body. The weird sensation made me pinch my legs together. I know he noticed this but he didn’t say anything.

“There!” I called, proud of how it came out. He just stared up at me for a moment sweetly smiling. When he finally chose to stand up he did so in a way that his face barely missed my boobs and his lips barely missed mine, he also dragged the hand that was holding my ankle, up my leg to my hips where he paused for a moment then pulled the strand that was holding my bikini bottom up untying the knot.

My brain begged for me to move away, create some distance, but the desire that his touch was feeding didn’t even flinch in fact, it made me step closer.

He dropped my dress and pulled me to him by my waist and once he did a mischievous smile spread across my face.

What Am I Doing!?!?!  

He licked his lips and bent down to be face level with me, then he slowly leaned in and growled in my ear.

“Hmm, Thank you.” He then pulled back enough to show me a perfect smile with sharp-looking canines. Of course, it was nothing supernatural but that didn’t stop me from wanting to be bitten. He was giving me all the green lights and I was hesitating.

Because I have a boyfriend.

I love the attention but I wasn’t allowed to have it. I took a few steps back with disappointment clear on both our faces as he allowed me to pull away.

“You’re welcome.” I nervously smoothed my dress and looked around for anyone else who could have seen what happened and found no one. I smiled to myself. I peeked up at him and noticed his loose tie again.

Don’t do it.

I narrowed my eyes at it.

Please don’t do it.

I reached my arms up to his shoulders, pushing my chest up against him so I could reach up higher. But He didn’t back away, he just leaned lower and closed his eyes.

Why? Don’t do this. You don’t know who he is.  

I giggled as I removed his tie and pulled it over my head.

“Why are you wearing your tie like that a sneaky woman might steal it from you.” he began to blush and it was adorable, his face dusted pink as he looked away.

“It’s not every day that a beautiful rabbit like you comes by to steal my tie.” I watched as he fought a pout. I was smiling to myself as I posed with the tie and wiggled with it on. I was about to take a seat at the bag return when he caught my wrist and pulled me to him. I shuffled a half of a step closer to him, my body pressed against his. I wasn't opposed to it, but I know it was wrong of me.

Why was it so hard to deny him? Why can’t I tell him to leave me alone like the rest? What’s different? What would Fernando think?

I looked up to meet his gaze and could see the hunger and the millions of questions he was holding back. He kept one hand in his pocket and the other on the small of my back gently keeping me close. I sighed the mixed feeling away.

“What’s your name?” It was a question but the pure desire in his voice made it sound more like a demand.

His tone of voice was awakening things in me that I’m not sure I should allow. I of course answered him.

“Luanne Dion Trainer.” I pushed away from him to keep what little self-control I had left, and he let me go reluctantly.

“Gray Thomson.” His name echoed in my head over and over. I don’t think I was going to forget it any time soon.

“Well, Luanne, do you know where I could find a cute, bratty rabbit?”

Right here! Right here! Me!

“No, sorry.”

“That’s a shame.” We maintained eye contact the entire time, well more like his eyes were holding me captive as a cocky grin grew on his face. This was the first moment where I realized he had a slight stubble. He put his hand on the right side of my neck, his thumb gently coming to rest on my pulse before he spoke.

“This might be rude of me to say but… calm down your heart is beating so fast… and I didn’t even do anything yet.” He bent down to me and peppered the left side of my neck and shoulders with increasingly passionate kisses, which earned a few loud moans. My hands came to grip his suit top, my body once again pressed against his. I couldn’t get myself to let go of him, the pleasure had me in a deep trance.

He stopped kissing me and stood straight up. I struggled to regain my composure and chose to rest my head on his chest until I was able to do so. I released his top and smoothed it down in the process when I successfully got a hold of myself.

I licked my lips and stepped away realizing that I was one well-placed kiss away from losing my mind and self-control. I watched as he stood where I left him completely lost in thought. I watched him retrieve his bag and point to another one on the belt.

“Is that one yours?” I shook my head at him as a woman hastily grabbed the bag he was pointing at and left. I looked at the far conveyor belt and noticed my bag was on it.

“It’s over there.” I took the chance to clear my head and calm down a bit, pausing after I retrieved my bag before coming back over.

Calm down. Just calm down.  

He was standing near the sliding doors so I figured he was about to leave. I felt a little sadness well up at the thought but then he turned back to me and joined me at the wall beside the sliding doors. His gaze swept the room and returned to me.

“Wow, it’s kind of empty huh? It feels kind of eerie… kind of lonely.”

That’s why you should keep me company.

I smiled shyly.

“Yeah… lonely.”

“Why are you so…”

Sexy? Mysterious? Hot?

“Distant? Do you have a boyfriend?”

Tell him the truth.

“Yes.”

“At least you’re honest. Well, tell him that I found a rabbit and I’m going to have her, whether he hands her over, or I have to steal her from him.”

“What?” My attention snapped to his eyes to see if he was joking, but his gaze was unwavering. A part of me shriveled up at the thought of being stolen from Fernando.

There is no way he would let this Gray guy steal me right?

But at the same time as soon as he laid claim to me I could feel something clawing at me, like hunger. It’s been a while since Fernando desired me the way Gray was desiring me… but if life has taught me anything, it taught me that love, at first sight, is all but a myth. Gray wants something but what? Could his intentions be so shallow? Is he only interested in my appearance, my body?

Fernando Has been so busy lately… almost like he doesn’t have time for me but it would be unfair to judge his love off of that, he’s away from home so often with volunteering and the National guard.

I don’t know what to do… or what I want to happen.

“I want you. You’re mine now. You say you have a boyfriend? Well, guess what, I'm going to be your new boyfriend you’re welcome. Don’t worry, I’m not always an asshole.”

I wanted that… to be wanted, to get attention, I wanted to be desired not just kept around because I’m pretty, I wanted everything Gray was offering but not from him. I’m fine with being close to Gray as a friend… I mean aside from being handsy he seems like a pretty genuine guy, kind and sweet.

“Gray I-” My phone began to ring obnoxiously while the bright blue screen read Babe. I looked up at Gray who had a look of annoyance on his face before he looked away from me choosing to burn holes in the carpet for a second. I looked back at my phone to answer it but before I could, Gray cupped my face in his hands, pushed me up against the wall, and placed a kiss on my lips. Each second that passed the kiss got more angry and needy, he kissed me until my phone rang out. When it did he bit my lower lip earning a small moan from me.

“I want you to be mine… Please.”

No this is bad, this is wrong.

“No… I can’t.” I politely pushed Gray away from me. He cupped my cheek as my phone started ringing. My body stood frozen as my mind followed his hand as each finger left a wake of goosebumps. His hand trailed down my cheek to my throat where it remained as his thumb stroked my speeding pulse. He shone a mischievous grin.

“Answer the phone.” The order was growled into my ear successfully making me melt. I just nodded.

“Hello?”

“Yeah, I'm outside. Come on.” I felt Gray tense and then relaxed when he heard Fernando’s voice. When I peeked at him I caught a glimpse of a toothy smile before he leaned in and whispered ‘good girl’ into my ear.

“Uh, okay I’m coming… I mean I’ll be out.”

“Oh! Hey, my buddy is gonna be riding with us so be nice heh heh.”

I looked at Gray who pulled away to look at me expectantly.

“O-Okay.” Gray smiled and stepped away while I hung up.

“Give me your phone. Please?” He took a while to put his number in but when he finally handed it back I had a new contact under the name:

Gray (Daddy)

Rolling my eyes I deleted what was in the parentheses and typed random guy.

“Don’t worry love, I'll take care of you.” After he said this his phone began to ring so I used this opportunity to leave the building. I looked down at myself one last time and noticed I still had his tie on so I quickly pulled it off, folded it neatly, and pushed it deep into my bag.

I hurried out when I finished and quickly shuffled to the car. Fernando got out of the car and opened the trunk. Quickly pulling out his phone and typing something before even bothering to help or greet me. When he finished he shoved his phone into his pocket and helped me shove my suitcase in the back and cupped my face, placing a rushed soft kiss on my lips.

“How was your trip baby?” he stared at me sweetly as he waited for my answer.

“It-” I was interrupted by a familiar deep voice.

Oh shit!

“It was great, thanks for asking…” Fernando awkwardly dropped all contact with me which confused me greatly. I turned to face the voice and saw exactly who I was hoping it wasn’t.

“This is one friendly ass reunion now, isn’t it? Do I get one of those?” Fernando moved to shake Gray’s hand but was ignored. Gray simply walked past him and stuffed his suitcase in the back of the car making Fernando clear his throat awkwardly.

What is he doing here? Does Fernando know him? If so, why is he acting so weird?

“Ludo this is Gray, Gray this is Ludo.” Gray charmingly smiled and stuck his hand out, which I left hanging for a few seconds. Which Fernando softly elbowed me for.

“Ludo, he doesn’t bite.”

“Don’t lie to her,” he turned his attention back to me, his hand still out. “Yes, I do.”

I reluctantly took his hand and he winked at me which made my face burn. Fernando didn’t see it because he turned to close the trunk.

What is he up to?

“Hey, Nando? She looks familiar.” My heart dropped to my stomach. Fernando slammed the trunk and turned to face him as he responded.

“Yeah, dude I sent you a picture. Remember?”

Wait so he already knew who I was?

“She’s not a redhead Fernando.” My eyebrows furrowed as I glanced at Fernando, he clearly wasn’t ready for that response and started panicking.

Redhead?

“No. No. No. The other picture.” Gray smiled cockily like he cornered Fernando, but I was still lost.

“Oh! So she’s the FRIEND you’ve told me so much about.”

FRIEND? What the fuck is going on here?

“No… I’m his girlfriend, you must have confused me with someone else.” Gray’s mischievous smile returned as he looked at me.

“Did you dye your hair before you came? What was wrong with red?” I narrowed my eyes. I felt like I was getting toyed with. I looked at Fernando, annoyance clear on my face as I stared at him expecting an answer but got none.

“Clearly everyone’s not on the same page. We can work on that later heh heh. In the meantime let’s get going, shall we?” he sounded nervous but I rolled my eyes and stormed into the front passenger seat of his beat-up dark green Toyota, slamming the door behind me. The pair stayed behind the car, and I watched through the rearview mirror. It looked like Fernando was angrily whispering at Gray and Gray just rolled his eyes, pulled out his phone, showed him the screen, and whispered back. Whatever he said shocked Fernando, then he returned his phone to his pocket and got in the passenger seat behind Fernando without so much as another word. Distracted, Fernando got into the car and started driving. I turned on the air conditioner and turned up the music.

“Hey, bro don't you normally wear a tie? What? Did you lose it?”

“Hm? Oh! No. someone stole it.”

“Heh heh heh was she pretty?”

“Sexy smile, body, and personality.” I looked out the window as my face burned in response.

I’m going to die.

[curly-bangtan]

Drabble game: Member: Jin 6) baby, I’m not going to last if you keep doing that 21) can’t you stop gaming for 1 second and give me attention?

#6: “baby, I’m not going to last if you keep doing that.”

#21: “can’t you stop gaming for one second and give me attention?”

#20: “let me guess, you’re horny again.”

Warnings: oral (M), slight exhibitionism, giving seokjinnie the best suck while he’s gaming and on a call with the boys

A/N: I feel so bad because I really haven’t had much time to write lately because of uni so I haven’t prepared anything special for Jin’s birthday except this. :c But anyway, enjoy~!

.

“Ahh- Aahhh- AAAAHHHHHHH!”

You hear the distinct yells coming from a certain room as you enter the house, a noise so boisterous that it could only belong to none other than your boyfriend.

Which one is it this time, Maple Story or Kart Rider?

Shaking your head in a smitten grin, you walk to the source of the shouts.

To his credit, he at least acknowledges you, “Oh, hey sweetie. Back so early?” To his discredit, he doesn’t even look up from his game, eyes glued to the glaring computer screen, which you don’t doubt have been fixed in place for the entire time you were gone. Kart Rider it is this time.

Tonight was a girls’ night, a few drinks at a nice cocktail bar with your closest female friends (a few meaning maximum three because cocktails are bloody expensive), chin-wagging and updating on each other’s love/sex lives. You always enjoy this type of gatherings.

“Early? Seokjin, it’s one.”

Only a single earphone in, he looks up, but even so, scarcely lest his eyes stray for a second too long from the pixelated road and he crashes again. He’s ranked number 6 right now. Out of seven. Why is he even trying anymore, he’s not going to win. Still, your eyes meet for a fleeting moment, enough for you to feel connected to him again, to trick yourself into thinking that he remotely missed you. Because he definitely didn’t. He didn’t even notice the time, where would his attention find the capacity to remember you while he’s racing his friends on this server?

“Oh shit, now way, it’s one already?” There is a monotone in his voice where disbelief should be. Basically, when Seokjin is gaming, he has two possible moods: over dramatic Ancient Roman gladiator with astounding battle cries, or completely stoic, focused, and most likely won’t realise if you’ve cracked an egg on his head. Both are equally as infuriating.

“Yes, it’s already one.” You sigh, plopping your bag on the floor to the side and striping your winter layers.

It’s shocking, sometimes, to think that your boyfriend is close to reaching his thirties. People compliment him endlessly on his lack of ageing - how doesn’t he have a single wrinkle? he looks the same as he did five years ago, if not better! - but little do they know, not only has he physically not aged, but also has mentally not grown up since the age of sixteen. Sixteen is him on a good day and you being generous.

You wonder if he’s going to stop gaming after this round now that you are back.

You wait.

He ends up coming fourth, which isn’t too shabby considering he had fallen off the course and wound up at the back. Watching as he stretches his board back, you think he’s going to switch his computer off, call it a day and finally come join you on the bed. But then he says into the microphone:

“Guys wait for me, let me change my character.”

You shut your eyes and sigh. Every time.

So you try to mind your own business as you wait for him to finally finish - you don’t mind going to sleep without him, you’re that far into your relationship that you don’t even need to say good night anymore. Practically a married couple at this point.

But then your mind wanders to the conversation you and your girls were having earlier during the night.

On the topic of sex, June brought up how her and her boyfriend has started to switch things up in the bedroom since, as much as she loves him, the same dick gets boring after a year. There was one time where they did policeman roleplay and he dropped the key under the bed and took ages to fish it out, but it was fine because the sex had been a solid 10/10, so apparently it was worth the sore arms. Kerry was surprised that June hadn’t tried to spice it up sooner; she on the other hand has been into moderate BDSM since highschool. Nothing hurts better than the sharp pain of being whipped on the butt by a crop cane, apparently. Just the other day, Namjoon suggested to Eunae that they should have a threesome with another man, the name of whom would not be disclosed, but you considerably suspect that he’s someone you know. Taehyung? Jimin? They seem like the type to be into this shit. But anyway, apparently, it turned Namjoon on a fucking lot to see Eunae get pounded by someone else while sucking his cock. She couldn’t complain at all, except for not being able to walk the next day.

You have such wholesome friends.

When it got to you, you kind of just- sat there poking your fingers. It not that your sex life with Seokjin is vanilla, but that’s exactly what you’re saying. Neither of you are particularly adventurous in nature, especially when it comes to sex. You would say that he has a higher sex drive than you, but only marginally. There are days where you would wake up and before your eyes are fully open, he’d already be inches deep in you. Sometimes, you go a long five days without sex out of tiredness and neither of you have a problem with it. But nevertheless, the sex is, as June described, the same mediocre missionary hammering until he blows his load either too soon or takes too long, with the occasional oral if you’re not feeling lazy.

Yeah, not mind blowing.

It’s not like you minded, but hearing your friends talk about their wild sex life makes you feel like you’re missing out. You and Seokjin are missing some fun, some excitement.

With that in mind, you crawl out of bed and approach your oblivious boyfriend. His shoulders jolt in surprise when he feels your arms snake around his neck from behind. Sparing you a second of his attention, he tilts his head up to meet your gaze, eyes wide in curiosity. You hang over him, cheek pressed on the crown of his head as you watch his game without particular interest.

Then you begin to bury your nose in his thick black hair, trailing tiny pecks all the way down to his face. Your hands start to roam as well, groping his toned chest not at all subtly. Seokjin is naturally well built with his hefty big bones - actual bones as well as, you know, that bone.

His fingers are moving mechanically on the keyboard in astounding reflexes. Hmm, you want those fingers inside… You place a particularly wet kiss on his cheek to try to coax his focus into your possession.

“What’s up, baby?” You count the flicker of his eyes as a small victory, even if you haven’t successfully infringed on his unwavering glare at the screen. Then he speaks into the microphone of his earphones, “Hoseok-ah, I’m catching up, watch out~!”

Ignoring his question as well as his sudden jerking motions to avoid his kart from veering too far, you proceed to kiss down his neck, pressing your warm lips ever so lightly on his skin to create that sensitive sparse contact that will surely make his little hairs rise. Your hands have now travel under his outstretched arms, albeit in an awkward angle due to your position, and are playing with the hem of his shirt. He’s wearing white today, and if there’s one thing you love more than your boyfriend, it’s your boyfriend in white.

When your small fingers reach the band of his joggers, you sense not only his muscles beneath your touch but his entire posture tense. Your wandering mouth feels him gulp.

“Let me guess, you’re horny again?” It’s unusual to hear him speak in such a low voice, a genuine hushed whisper rather than one for dramatic effect. The way he tilted away from the earphone mic does not go unnoticed, trying to to let the boys hear him. How interesting… Why not exploit that?

“Hmm…” You hum, lips still painting his collar now with gentle sucks. Your fingers are feathering his torso, each time daring to dip a bit further under his pants, but never too much. “Can’t you just stop gaming for a second and give me some attention, Seokjinnie?”

He tenses once more.

This is kind of fun. You almost snicker diabolically.

Muffled voices sound from the other end of the call, barely audible from the earphone that has been left dangling by the wire, not plugged into his ear. And you know that if it weren’t for them, Seokjin would be reprimanding you loudly right now.

“After this game, okay sweetie?” The tendons of his fingers strain over his knuckles. Click click click click click. Aggressive keyboard pushing.

“But… I can’t wait…” You put on your babiest voice with a whiny undertone, drawing out each syllable for emphasis. As you use your nails to tickle the skin over his pelvis, one of his knees jerk up and hit the desk.

Cute reflexes, you mirth.

“Shit-” He mutters under his breath. “Please, please, please. You’re distracting me.”

That’s the point.

This time, you reach even further, one hand brushing his thigh, the other returning to his fuzzy navel. “Seokjin…” He tries his best to hold in a sharp inhale at your seductive touch. “Right now, please…”

“Last game, I promise.” He whispers away from the microphone.

“You have two more rounds, you just started a new game, I can’t wait that long.” You nip at the lobe of his free ear.

“Boys, I’m going to bed after this game.” He announces to his friends, shooting you a brief pointed look, and whispers pleadingly, “please.”

Do you feel slightly bad for putting him in such a tortured position? Yes. But do you have every intention of carrying on? Also yes.

“How about this, baby,” you press your mouth against his ear, “you stay quiet while I give you the best blowjob of your life right now, then I’ll be satisfied and leave you be. Or, I go right back to bed right now and probably ignore you for the rest of the week until you do some grovelling for choosing a video game over your girlfriend.”

Seokjin shudders at your warm breath perforating into him and heaves, jaw hanging slightly open as he throws you one long glance. You see the clockwork in his mind turning as he contemplates your offer, clearly torn. Promiscuity is not his thing, so naturally, getting sucked off by his girl while on a gaming call with his friends presents a difficult dilemma.

“Shit, Y/N-ah…” He laments softly, causing a smirk to bloom across your face. He’s going to cave, you know it. Concentration at the game now dispersed, Seokjin wets his lips in hesitation. “Fine.”

So he caves.

Smug, you drop onto your knees and scuttles around his chair until you’re in the shadows of the desk. He rolls his seat back to allow you emerge between his legs. It’s dark down here, yet you know his body inside out. Lifting his rear off, he allows you to tug his joggers down, your hands not missing the chance to skim past the outskirts of his hips. You see him glance down, teeth gritted.

Kissing up the insides of his thighs, you let your tongue dance lucidly, teasing him until his quads can’t tense any further. There’s already a semi-bulge in his boxers, this lewd boy, and when you palm him over the grey cotton material, his lower half buckles.

Oh this is going to be fun.

When you feel more heat rush down to his groin, and his member grows more erect, you stripe the boxers off too. Your boyfriend is still, quiet, and you have to check that he’s still conscious. He is. Very conscious. Of your little shadow casted face in front of his fat aching cock under the desk.

He gulps again. He’s fucked.

Just as he looks back up at the screen so his vehicle doesn’t fall behind, he feels your tingly breath hovering over his shaft, up and down, as if assessing where to devour first. Unluckily for him, it’s his balls. Sucking on the soft delicate skin, one of your hands comes under to cup him. Seokjin lets out a low whimper that sounds vaguely like mmhhah-.

“Jin-hyung, where did you go? Falling behind already?” Jungkook taunts over the call, the other guys snickering after him.

Seokjin can’t even respond. It’s taking all of him to even keep half his attention on the race, how is he supposed to formulate a functional sentence?

You look up at him, grinning devilishly as you fondle his balls in your hand with your tactful tongue. Although his fingers are still clicking away at the keyboard, he is now looking down at you every few seconds. Progress. After a particularly cruel suck that has him curling his toes, you move to his cock.

It is throbbing violently. It tends to do that - Seokjin is a throbber; if you get him aroused but deprive him of the friction, he pulses up in need. You find something about that so cute.

And so, slowly and lubriciously, you drag your tongue up his tongue in a zigzag, curving around his circumference at every turn. “Aish…” He cries, and you know it’s not because of the game. He looks down, for a long couple of seconds this time. His lips are parted, hand pushing the hair out of his face to reveal that glorious forehead that’s powerful enough to topple kingdoms.

Then you swirl around his head, the rough pad of your tongue pressed hard against him, tasting his salty precum.

“Fuck.” He exhales. He knows you know what you’re doing to him and he’s completely under your influence, helpless. You wonder if his friends can hear his soft curses and moans. A part of you wants them to. Exhibitionism? Who would have thought.

You focus on his slit, licking mercilessly at his oozing opening, lapping up the taste of his arousal. His thigh is now trembling. Yet you don’t stop assailing his tip, slowly taking it in your mouth while your tongue performs its magic. Swirling, licking, flicking, sucking.

Abruptly, Seokjin grabs the mic of his earphones, concealing it in his palm to mask his voice when he says, “baby, I’m not going to last if you keep doing that.”

You just look up at him, wide feign-innocent eyes overflowing in amusement. His own eyes lock on yours, head tilting to the side in exasperation at your antics. His incapacity against your relentless technique sends your cunt surging.

Finally, you take his cock in your mouth, swallowing him inch by inch agonisingly slowly until he pokes the back of your throat. He has to bite down on his lip to prevent those whimpers from escaping. When you slurp up, your tongue continues to draw patterns across his length, feeling his pulsing veins beneath you. Playing with his bollocks at the same time, you release his cock from your mouth with a wet pop.

At this point, you can tell he’s given up on the game, especially when his left hand grips onto your hair, his hips buckling again to push himself into your mouth. The keyboard sounds are decelerating, his eyes fixed on you more than the monitor, only occasional glances up at the game so his kart isn’t completely halted.

You gag as you bob up and down his cock, salivating endlessly to create a slippery friction for the walls of your mouth to mould over him. He fits in you so well. Each time, you try to take in more and more of his length until his whole member is engorged in your mouth. His taste grows increasingly salty, tip crying tears of precum.

Yup, he’s definitely not going to last.

Fingers holding onto your locks tightly, as if holding on for dear life, his chest rises and falls shakily, breath getting heavier. “Shut up, Jimin.” He says into his mic. You wonder what the boy had said.

As your pace increases and strokes of your tongue intensifies, his thighs squeeze around you. He’s desperately falling apart. Maintaining eye contact, his head collapses back, his neck exposed. He’s so close, you can tell.

So you go as fast as you can despite the ache in your jaw, riding him with your mouth, face stretching to encompass his girth. Tears spring to your eyes yet you ignore them. He’s pushing your head up and down now, guiding your speed to pursue his orgasm.

Then-

“O- fuck!” He groans out loud, not even bothering to lower his volume anymore. A moment later, you feel the violent twitch of his shaft followed by a spurt of warm liquid into your mouth. You slow your imbibing, considering his utmost sensitivity right now, and tenderly suck around his ejaculating tip. His whole body convulses, eyes rolling back. He is at utter surrender, both hands cradling your face, legs sprawled out.

“Nothing,” his voice is unstable as he exhales into the mic, “I just- um- spilt water all over my desk.”

‘Spilt water’ indeed.

You swallow his load in your mouth after pulling him out, hand lazily milking out his every last drop. Seokjin is panting as he gazes down at you, caressing your cheek gratefully, fiddling with your red swollen lips.

“I’m leaving, boys, good night.” He mindlessly ends the call with a few clicks and shuts his computer, his whole attention now devoted to you. “I can’t fucking believe you did that.”

Smiling proudly, you answer, “That was fun, wasn’t it.”

“I’m sure it was really fucking fun for you.” Seokjin hauls you up gently from the ground, and jeez, your knees are sore.

Without a second to waste, he pulls you in by the neck to meet his lips, your tongue still bitter from his cum. He’s not normally particularly dominant, yet this time, there is a roughness to his kiss, and an eagerness in the way his arm traps your waist. Walking back step by step, you tumble onto the bed, your core heated from the pool of desire you’ve collected for him. And when he flips and pins you under him, you know you’re fucked for the rest of the night.

“You’re going to regret doing that.”

.

04/12/19

© Copyright 2019

[starlightkenobi]

Master and Apprentice // A Clone Wars AU

a/n: hiya! so this is an au that ive been working on for a while, all that you need to know of the plot is that this is basically the clone wars, the only change is that ahsoka joins maul and accepts his offer in season 7 ep 10, this snippet takes place in the throne room after rex, jesse, and bo katan leave maul and ahsoka alone. ive been dreaming of writing this for a while so here you go:

also i really really really want to make this into a full chapter fic so please tell me if anyone actually wants it lmao

The world around the two figures was crumbling, and battle raged on as they stood alone, juxtaposed. Darth Maul turned, his gaze falling to the carnage that took place outside the window, his window. He huffed, and if his back had not been turned to Ahsoka, she would have seen his smug smirk. “Look at them.” He paused, drawing in a long breath. “So blissfully ignorant.”

Ahsoka tensed, unsure of the unusual circumstances. Maul was a strange creature to be sure, but something about this entire situation felt off. Even still, in a place that Ahsoka wanted to ignore, she felt as though she was meant to be here. Every place that she had gone, every choice that she had made, it led to this moment. The force had practically led her here, she just needed to figure out why. “Care to tell me what this is all about?” She tried to play it cool, change her tone to sound coy, but she felt lucky that Maul still had his back turned. This way, he might not notice how tense she really was. “Or would you rather save it for the council?” Ahsoka continued. Anakin would have probably said the same thing in this situation, she supposed.

Maul finally turned, his yellow eyes meeting her own blue ones directly for the first time since she had entered his throne room. “Oh no, no. You are the one that I wish to speak with.” He began pacing, taking sure and steady steps. “Were you not...cast out of your order?” Maul stood to face her, his hands clasped behind his back and his posture relaxed. If he was planning on fighting her, her sure as hell didn’t look like it. Still, Ahsoka was ready, her hands hovering over where her lightsabers lay strapped to her belt.

“I left voluntarily.” Ahsoka sounded less unseasy now, more sure that the words she was saying were the right ones.

“Y-yes, but you were motivated to leave by the hypocrisy of the Jedi council.” Maul was growing more impatient and irritable, Ahsoka could tell by the way his nose scrunched and his brow furrowed. She opened her mouth, ready to speak, ready to defend the order and the ways of the Jedi, but she couldn’t. She knew that she couldn’t, because nothing she could say would justify what they had done to her.

Maul sighed, his eyes wandering off introspectively. He seemed to be staring at nothing, thinking to himself. “We were both tools for greater powers.” His eyes drifted upwards, almost as if he believed this “greater power” that he spoke of was listening in. He regained his composure, returning his firm gaze to Ahsoka, who tentatively began to take steps towards him.

“I am here to bring you to justice.” Her hand gestured towards the ground as she spoke bringing greater emphasis to her words.

“Justice is merely the construct of the current power base…” Maul’s voice fluctuated as he spoke, sounding like he was trying to hold back laughter. “...A base which, according to my calculations, is about to change.”

“And Darth Sidious is behind it?” Ahsoka pried.

“He is behind everything.” Maul’s eyes darted around the room frantically, his composed posture quickly becoming tense. Whoever this Darth Sidious was, he had somehow stricken fear into this creature, Ahsoka gathered. “In the shadows, always. But soon, very soon, he will reveal himself.” Darth Maul’s breaths were heavy, and his voice shook.

“With your help, the Jedi can stop Sidious before it’s too late.” Ahsoka pleaded. Maybe this is why she was meant to be here, she thought. To gain the help of Maul and stop Sidious for good with the Jedi. Oh how wrong she was.

“Too late? For what? The Republic to fall? It already has and you just can’t see it!” Maul was raving, his voice getting louder and louder as he spoke. Or more accurately, shouted. “There is no justice! No law, no order! Except for the one that will replace it!” He breathed, trying to steady his voice. “The time of the Jedi has passed, they cannot defeat Sidious.” Ahsoka was stunned, desperately pleading with her mind to not believe his words. It didn’t matter, it was too late. She had already lost faith in the Jedi. Maul lowered his voice to an almost pleasant hum. “But together...you and I can.” Ahsoka’s gaze fell to the floor, unable to look at Maul anymore. She was disappointed in herself for even entertaining his words. “Every choice you have made has led you to this moment.” Maul’s hand outstretched towards Ahsoka and she could feel her heart sink. Was this it? Was this what she was meant to do?

As if on cue, the window burst. Glass and ash flew into the room, swirling around them both. Explosions could be heard from the throne room that were coming from all over Mandalore. The whole planet, much like Ahsoka’s world, was crumbling apart. Her very soul was in fractures. Part of her wanted to believe in the Jedi, and the other, much darker part of her, knew that Maul was right. This choice that she would make, right here and now, would shake the very fabric of the force. It could change the course of the galaxy. Ahsoka just hoped that the choice she made would change it for the better.

Finally, she met Maul’s gaze once more. She could see in his eyes that he was pleading with her. Her mouth opened to speak, but she faltered. What would her master say to this proposal? What would he do? She opened her hand and looked at it, seeing a piece of ash crumble and fall into her palm. She could reach out to him, she could take his hand right now. Ahsoka looked to Maul again, taking a deep, shaky breath. In his eyes, she saw something. A glimmer of connection that she had only seen once before, in the eyes of her former master. “I will help you.” Ahsoka’s mouth almost moved on it’s own, her brain not even truly processing that she had agreed to join forces with Darth Maul, an actual sith lord. Even if she had, it wouldn’t have changed her mind. She would have joined him anyways. Maul’s hand reached out toward he further, a small smile tugging at his lips as he practically begged her to take it. “But you must answer one question.”

“You have but to ask.” Maul took another step and stretched his arm to her even further.

“What do you want with Anakin Skywalker?”

Maul’s mind spun. He could tell her the truth, he wanted to be honest with her, but he knew that if he was, it could drive her away. It would drive her away, he was sure of it, and Maul wasn’t going to let that happen. He had come so far, gotten so close, and to lose it all here would be a blow that he couldn’t take. “He was but a pawn. Another Jedi that I could feel straying from the constraints of the order. He is useless to me now. Now, I have you.” Maul could still see hesitation in her eyes. “If he is so precious to you, I will let him live.” Maul huffed.

Ahsoka stepped towards him again, feeling more reassured. This was it, it must be it, she thought. And if Maul promised Anakin’s safety, well, how could she refuse? Gently, almost tentatively, she placed her hand in his and he grasped it tightly. He felt her hand trembling with uncertainty in his own, so he placed his other hand on top of hers, steadying it. As Ahsoka felt her hand be enveloped by Darth Maul’s, she could feel her very existence being enveloped as well. It had become shrouded in a deep, thick darkness. She was frightened, yes. But now...now there was no going back.

[jeremys-blogs]

Gravity Falls: Disney’s Perfect Show

Now, the number of people who have loved, enjoyed and praised this programme are legion, and it's worth stating up front that I am no professional reviewer by a long stretch. As such it's unlikely that anything I come up with here will be anything that hasn't been said a thousand times before by people far more qualified to talk about this stuff than me. Even so, it's still a show I'd like to talk about, so instead of some amateur attempt to some across like some highbrow writer, I'll just discuss my personal feelings as they pop into my head as I'm writing. And apologies in advance if this makes the whole thing seem like a jumbled mess.

Now, the first thing to really get across here is that I've been watching Disney shows for a very long time, for as far back as I can remember. I recall the days when my brother and I would watch and enjoy the likes of the original DuckTales or the forever-awesome Gargoyles, and even though my feelings towards Disney TV has fluctuated a lot over the decades, there's always been something to enjoy about them. When it comes to Gravity Falls, something that just immediately popped into my head as I was watching it was just the general tone and feel of it. Many of the earlier Disney shows I'd see tended to fit into one of two categories. There were the darker and more serious stories (like the aforementioned Gargoyles), and then there were the lighter and more zany outings, like the early seasons of Star Vs the Forces of Evil. Both of these are varieties I enjoy, but Gravity Falls somehow managed to feel like it's an ideal blend of the two sides. A show that gave a great deal of humour and smile-inducing moments while also showcasing its fair share of heavier themes. Usually, whenever I see shows try to put both together, they either eventually descend into one side at the expense of the other, or they simply feel confused and unsure of what they want to be. So Gravity Falls gets praise from me straight away just for the skill needed to walk that razor's edge.

But saying that a show has great tone and atmosphere is all well and good, but unless its story is decent then it'll all be in service of nothing. And thankfully, Gravity Falls has one heck of a story to its name. Now, I'm not going to risk spoiling things for those who haven't seen it, but suffice to say there is an overall arc that takes place over the course of the show's forty episodes, but it still has more than a few episodic tales to keep it from going completely serialised. It's another one of those things that makes it feel well-balanced. Go too far in the direction of serialisation, and the show would have the notorious downside of making you wait until the very end before you can decide if you enjoyed it or not. Adding various problem-of-the-week scenarios helps to keep it from straying too far, yet always manages to make each individual story all contribute to the greater whole. That greater whole being, of course, the bizarre happenings of the titular town and its citizens. This is a story about a very weird locale, yet allows itself to show not only the weirdness at its most blatant, but also at its smallest. The day-to-day oddities that come about as a result of the grander strangeness brewing in the background.

The characters are, of course, a massive draw of this show for me, as every single one of the main cast is some degree of entertaining, interesting or likeable. We have Dipper, thirsty for knowledge and answers about the town and its mysteries. We have Mabel, the bright-eyed optimist who always brings a smile to my face. We have Stan, the grouchy old-timer with a knack for scams and getting cash. And we have Wendy and Soos, the sort-of side-characters who prove to be just as good to have around as our main trio. But what I love about each of these people is how they all prove to have depth beyond what they all first appear to be. Dipper's a smart kid, yet he's capable of doing incredibly dumb and short-sighted things. Mabel's a sweetheart, but she also manages to have a bit of a selfish streak. Stan is gruff and standoffish, but when push comes to shove he's utterly devoted to his family and their well-being. Wendy and Soos come off as the cool girl and doofus respectively, yet were more than able to have traits like sentimentality and unexpected intelligence to offset those first impressions. There's nuance to this cast, making them seem far more believable as the kinds of people you might actually know in real life, rather than just cartoon cutouts.

In the time before I started watching this show, I often heard people describe it as "X-Files for kids", and while I can certainly understand the comparison, I think there's plenty of differences to the two, most notably the greater emphasis on comedy over seriousness. But don't let that lead you to think this show pulls its punches, because it can definitely go to some dark places. I won't say there's anything here that's inappropriate for children, but there are times when it definitely goes into full-on nightmare fuel territory. Still, those moments do show off a great deal of imagination and enjoyably creepy weirdness when it comes to just the general design of things. If you have kids who have the constitution for some scary monsters here and there, this is something that'll probably enrapture them. And it certainly helps that, as I said before, there's a good deal of humour here. Whenever things looked like they were going to get too intense or terrifying for kids, there was always something goofy or funny to help lighten the mood. So yeah, I'd definitely call this an all-ages programme, and if you were the kind of person who grew up on old 80s movies and TV shows, chances are you'll see Gravity Falls as fitting in nicely with that crowd.

But despite all the big visuals and big scares, Gravity Falls gets surprisingly small and intimate when it comes to the main idea and theme of the whole thing. And that idea is the difficulty of growing up. Without going into too much detail, the main two characters, Dipper and Mabel, go through some pretty serious growing pains over the course of the series, and there's always this sense of looming worry when you watch it, that the good times won't last forever. It's a very personable and relatable worry that, to one degree or another, every single one of us has felt at some point. And that fear of the future is reflected pretty effectively in another pair of characters who, in many ways, serve to heighten the worries the children feel about their own road ahead by giving them a potential "what if". It's pretty heavy, yet Gravity Falls, as ever, has a light at the end of the tunnel. It acknowledges that growing up can be difficult, but unlike so many other stories that might tackle such a theme, it shows too that the future can be just as happy as our nostalgic past. That greater age doesn't mean giving up the things, or more importantly the people we care about. It's a sweet and hopeful message that gives the show a real beating heart.

I think it's safe to say that anyone who chose to click on this and read it will already be a fan of this show themselves, but I hope this has helped to show why I enjoyed it myself. The show simply had everything going for it, from its characters, to its art, to its music, to the way every episode managed to be its own thing while also managing to fit together perfectly like the pieces of a jigsaw, and of course that phenomenal, heartbreaking and heartwarming finale. Right from the start Gravity Falls sprinkles in clues and foreshadowing that you don't recognise on your first watch but provide a mountain of "oh yeah" feelings when you go back to watch and re-watch it however many times you want. Are there some episodes I like more than others? Sure, but I'd still be happy no matter which episode was shown to me, and it's rare that I get to say that about anything on TV. Disney has produced a lot of things I like, both in the past and in the present, and they'll likely continue to do so into the future. But Gravity Falls was truly something special, and Disney's future shows will have to do a lot to meet this high bar they've now set for themselves

[chouetteffraie]

I love your stories! Maybe 46? Dazatsu? Hell I even have a song in mind to help you, Moondance by Van Morrison! Thank you so much!

so so sorry it’s taken literally forever, dear nonnie. I’ve been having a rough couple of months and just couldn’t focus. I’m here now though! Hopefully you don’t hate me for it ^u^;

also, you gave me a song to go off of, but i’m not gonna like I had “can i have this dance” from high school musical 3 in my head the whole time

46. “Dance with me”

Atsushi sucked in a breath, straining his eyes in the dusky office to look at the report before him. He could barely distinguish the words from each other anymore, yet he was glued to his spot, unable to move to turn on the lights. Everybody else had long since gone home, even Kunikida- when he begrudgingly dropped keys to the office on Atsushi’s desk, instead of feeling pride at the monumental moment in his career, Atsushi could barely bring himself to look up from his papers. 

He had been assigned to an undercover mission, one of the “realest” he had ever been on- or, at least, one that adhered the closest to the principles he came to learn through movies. Kunikida had told him he’d need to wear his only good suit- Atsushi hoped the mission would be easy, so he wouldn’t tear such expensive clothing. Based on the reports, there would be tens or hundreds of the elite, all dressed up and far more comfortable in that kind of attire than he. He spent the next hours trying to memorize the layout of the building, their exact instructions and the backup plan they gave him, every last detail until his brain felt as though it would split open. It didn’t seem like enough.

Exasperated, Atsushi put his head in his hands and groaned, hoping to curb the anxiety boiling in his belly and clawing up his throat. There were a million thoughts running around in his head, most surrounding him getting caught. He didn’t fit in anywhere fancy, what with his scrawny build and choppy hair. Even in the suit, he was sure he’d stick out like a sore thumb. That wasn’t even the biggest worry in his mind, however- he knew there was dancing involved, something he had no idea how to do.

The office door opened suddenly, snapping Atsushi out of his thoughts. He was shocked to find Dazai in the doorway, looking rather rumpled and like he had just woken up. As if confirming Atsushi’s thoughts, Dazai stretched his arms over his head and yawned, splaying out his fingers and wiggling them for emphasis.

“D-Dazai-san,” Atsushi stammered, watching as Dazai peeked one eye open like a cat and watched him. “I thought you had gone home. What are you doing here?”

“Hm? Oh, someone locked me in the broom closet,” He answered nonchalantly, shrugging. Cocking an eyebrow, Atsushi watched Dazai stretch out his hips and shake out his legs and shoulders before finally making his way towards him. “What are you doing here?”

“Who locked you in a closet?” Atsushi asked, hoping to evade the question. He knew Dazai would just ask again after this discussion, but a small part of him still hoped.

“Dunno. Maybe Ranpo. Probably Kunikida,” Dazai answered. “On accident, of course. Or maybe he knew and just didn’t feel like letting me out.”

“And it took you that long to get out?”

“I was napping.” Picking a piece of fuzz off of his coat, Dazai rounded Atsushi’s desk and leaned over him to peer at his papers. “Ahhh, you’re going over the reports for the upcoming mission!”

Atsushi scrambled to cover his papers up, knowing his attempts would be futile. “Y-yeah! I just wanna make sure I’m ready.”

Dazai hummed, bending further over Atsushi’s back, more to annoy him than to see his files. “You’re awfully jumpy for someone who has spent hours looking over the same papers.”

Knowing he was defeated, Atsushi sighed. “Yeah, okay. I’m just….nervous that I’ll have to dance or do something and mess up and then I’ll get us all caught.” Atsushi admitted. His voice came out muffled as Dazai smashed his cheek against the desk with his body weight. 

“But Kunikida-kun told you you most likely wouldn’t have to!” Dazai answered, releasing Atsushi. Straightening out his own back, Atsushi turned his chair around and looked up at Dazai as a thought hit him.

“Wait, Kunikida-san told me that this morning. How long were you locked in that closet?”

Dazai smiled wryly. “Most of the day.”

The two of them sat in silence for an extended moment, interrupted only by the staccato cracks of Dazai’s bones as he continued to stretch. Atsushi was about to interrupt him and make his leave when Dazai let out a loud yawn.

“Man, I just can’t loosen up these old limbs of mine. Do you think you could help me out, Atsushi-kun?”

“Uh, sure. What do you need?” Atsushi asked, gathering up his papers and putting them in a folder to put in his messenger bag. Dazai held out a hand to help Atsushi up, and after a momentary hesitation and a swarm of fluttering butterflies in his stomach, Atsushi took it. When he was pulled up, he nearly fell into Dazai, who refused to back up and give him more space. When he felt a spindly arm wrap around his waist, he yelped in protest. “Wh-what are you-”

“Dance with me, Atsushi-kun!” Dazai answered cheerfully, taking a step back and pulling Atsushi with him. Atsushi tried to protest, though most of his words came out in jolted stutters as Dazai yanked him around the room.

“Dance? Here? Dazai-san, there’s not even any music!” He insisted, narrowly twisting his hips to avoid a corner of a desk. Dazai laughed and spun in a circle, making Atsushi grip on to his coat sleeve tighter. 

“We don’t need music! Just keep up with me and you’ll be able to adapt to any pace!” 

“Dazai-san, no-!”

Atsushi quickly shut his mouth when Dazai spun again, choosing to focus on the movements of their feet instead of his protests which were obviously falling on deaf ears. Over stray papers and uneven tiles they danced, often times stumbling or slipping and relying on the other to keep them upright. Each time Atsushi slipped, Dazai only laughed and secured his grip, guiding them between desks and past chairs. A few times, he kicked a few chairs out of the way, startling Atsushi with the crash and earning himself a scolding from Atsushi.

Even with his destruction, Atsushi couldn’t complain much. After all, he was starting to get the hang of whatever this was- it certainly wasn’t dancing, but it was a lot of fun. Dazai seemed to think so, too- when Atsushi looked up, he saw what looked to be one of the most genuinely gleeful smiles he’d ever seen on Dazai. (How fitting it was that it only emerged as they twisted through the room like a tornado, uprooting every piece of furniture in the office and then some.)

Atsushi wondered, for a moment, if dancing was something Dazai really enjoyed. From what little he had seen and heard, Dazay was an abysmal dancer with absolutely no rhythm, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy it. Maybe he just needed someone to dance with, someone with as little experience as him- or who didn’t care about skill, and only wanted to dance.

Atsushi thought for a moment that he wouldn’t mind being that someone - especially if simple, chaotic dancing like this brought him such happiness.

After a while, though, he was beginning to get breathless. He couldn’t keep up with Dazai’s restless energy- although he had had a full day’s work behind him while Dazai did not. Atsushi couldn’t stop himself from leaning into Dazai until he was practically being dragged across the floor. After bumping into the third desk, Dazai finally slowed down and allowed Atsushi to catch his breath.

“You know, right now you’re making about as good a dance partner as a…” For a second, he trailed off, eyes looking off into the distance. “You need to build up your stamina before the mission.”

Atsushi chuckled into Dazai’s shirt, not quite wanting to push away. An idea hatched in his mind- should he go ahead with it?

“Ah…should we practice again before then?” He asked, looking up at Dazai bashfully. He was suddenly thankful that the room was dark- he didn’t want Dazai teasing him for the blush he knew was there.

Dazai watched Atsushi with a perplexed expression before laughing- though the small burst of joy sounded more like a boyish giggle to Atsushi. “I don’t see why not! It is my job to make sure you’re as prepared as can be for this mission.”

Finally, Atsushi separated himself, looking around at the disheveled room and sagging his shoulders. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Dazai contemplate escaping before picking up one of the overturned chairs.

“You’re staying?” Atsushi asked.

“Well, you’re treating me to dinner, right? In exchange for the dance lessons,” Dazai returned. Rolling his eyes and shaking his head, Atsushi decided to pick that fight after he had roped Dazai into cleaning and locked their hard work safely behind them.

[aliceinidolland]

banri gets in a fight again and someone actually helps him out for once lol

Series: A3! Act! Addict! Actors!

Pairing: Banri/Taichi

Word Count: 1919

Summary: “Uh, well, I was, you know, uh…” He fumbles over his words, not having expected he’d get caught. Just as he settles on a reason, though, his eyes catch the sight of red. The hand Banri had used to wipe his nose is covered with it. Blood.

“Are you okay, Banny?”

“Hah?” Banri replies. Taichi points, hand a little shaky, and Banri looks down at the blood on his hand. “Yeah, ‘m fine. Just a scratch,” he says.

Taichi frowns and inches closer.

Taichi is awake in the middle of the night. It’s not like he usually stays up this late, well, unless he’s helping out Yuki, but tonight that isn’t the case. He’s just having a little trouble sleeping - emphasis on the little - and staring up at the dark ceiling wasn’t helping as much as he would have liked. He wants to sigh aloud but he might wake up Omi, so instead he wiggles out of bed and leaves his room, careful to make as little sound as possible.

The door closes behind him with a soft click. A drink, Taichi figures, will probably help him relax. As he walks to the kitchen, the halls are quiet. That’s to be expected of course, but it’s still a little disconcerting. Taichi frowns.

He doesn’t turn the lights on - Sakyo has a sixth sense for that, he swears it - and takes care to be as quiet as possible when turning open the tap and filling the glass. The sound echoes, far too loud due to the absence of other noise, and it makes Taichi cringe. He downs the liquid in a matter of seconds and, as he goes to place the cup on the counter, the lights turn on.

Taichi blinks, eyes trying to adjust to the brightness. There’s a loud groan coming from the lounge room and he instinctively shivers in fear. What could it be? A ghost? A zombie? It’s got to be some kind of monster, it’s far too late and unnatural for it to be anyone who actually belongs here. But… whatever it is, they’d turned the light on, so that means it can't be a monster, right? Right?

Gulping down his fear, Taichi inches towards the doorway, ready to dash down the hallway and escape. The voice groans again, slightly louder this time. It sounds like whatever - whoever? - is making it is in pain… But that’s the perfect setup for a horror movie, right? It’s best to just walk away - 

“Hurts like a…” Oh, those are actual words - it must be a person, then. And the voice is familiar too...? Slowly, Taichi pokes his head around the corner like he had thought he shouldn’t do and catches a glimpse of the mystery person.

It’s Banri, actually, wearing his usual leopard print jacket instead of sleepwear. He’s sitting with his head in his hands, which is also kind of weird. Taichi wants to ask him what’s up but, for one, he’s still a little afraid, and two, Banri probably doesn’t know Taichi's looking at him, and if he scares Banri they'll wake up half the dorm (it won't wake up Hisoka, at least). Half of him wants to just sneak away and ask Banri about it in the morning - 2am is still the night, right? - but then Banri lifts his head, swiping at his nose and their eyes meet.

“Taichi?” he says and Taichi freezes. “What’re you doing?”

“Uh, well, I was, you know, uh…” He fumbles over his words, not having expected he’d get caught. Just as he settles on a reason, though, his eyes catch the sight of red. The hand Banri had used to wipe his nose is covered with it. Blood. “Are you okay, Banny?”

“Hah?” Banri replies. Taichi points, hand a little shaky, and Banri looks down at the blood on his hand. “Yeah, ‘m fine. Just a scratch,” he says.

Taichi frowns and inches closer, his earlier fear practically forgotten. The more their distance decreases, the easier it is to see - the deep gash on Banri’s cheek, the trickle of blood leaking from his nose, the bruises on his knuckles and the various tears in his jeans. “You’re hurt, Banny!”

Banri scoffs. “‘s nothing. The guys who did it to me have it worse,” he says as if that makes it any better. Taichi grabs hold of his wrist, silently apologizing for the way Banri winces and tries to tug him upwards.

“You’re hurt! We have to treat it!”

“It’s not a big-”

“It is too a big deal!” Taichi interrupts, his whispers growing louder and louder as his concern grows. Mercifully, Banri lets Taichi drag him to the washroom, although he grumbles under his breath most of the way. Banri sits on the toilet seat, carefully examining his hands as Taichi searches the cupboards for the first aid kit. It doesn’t take long to find, thankfully, and Taichi turns his attention back to Banri just as quickly.

“Broke a nail,” Banri observes out loud, staring at his hands with mild concern. Taichi holds back a laugh - injured like this and all he cares about are his hands? If you're cool, life must be something like that - and approaches him, safety kit in hand. “Ah, I can do it,” Banri says, raising his other hand up to take it.

“Nope!” Taichi replies, holding it just out of Banri’s grasp. “It’s harder to work on yourself,” he says with an air of authority.

Banri raises his eyebrow. “And you know that because…?”

“I used to get injured all the time when I was little,” Taichi confesses, placing the kit on the counter and taking out all the necessary materials. “Plus, if you know how to treat yourself, it’s pretty cool, right?”

“Sure is,” Banri laughs and Taichi takes it as a good sign. The two of them chatter a bit longer while Taichi treats all of Banri’s wounds. His nose comes first, cleaning the residual blood there and making sure it won’t start bleeding again. Then, bandaging Banri’s hands and after that the smaller scratches all over his body. There’s a lot of them, but Taichi makes sure to check each and every one of them, putting bandaids over all of them.

“Dokemon patterned?” 

“Omi bought them.”

“How’d you know that?”

“They were for me, obviously!”

Banri laughs again, short and sweet. Taichi only lets the sound distract him for a second, glancing up at Banri’s face. Their eyes meet and Taichi looks away. His face feels hotter than usual, but that doesn’t mean anything right?

Finally, once everything else has been dealt with, Taichi moves to the gash on Banri’s cheek. It’s pretty deep, having been dripping blood throughout this entire process. He hesitates for a moment - this one will hurt, won't it? - but dabs at it with a cotton pad covered in antiseptic, taking care to be as gentle as possible. Banri hisses in pain and reaches up, catching Taichi’s wrist in his grip.

“That hurts!” he exclaims, face contorted in pain.

“Not my fault!” Taichi pouts. He wants to say more but - Banri’s face is rather close, isn’t it? Taichi keeps his mouth shut instead and looks away. Banri opens his mouth in question, but it seems he realizes something and closes it just as quickly. He lets go of Taichi’s hand, dropping his arm back down to his side. It's silent for a bit longer than Taichi would like it to be, but before he can say anything, Banri beats him to it. 

“Gonna finish or not?” he asks.

“Y-Yep!” Taichi replies and he hopes that Banri didn’t hear him stuttering. Practically impossible, he knows, due to their proximity, but one can hope, right? Banri smirks and Taichi knows he’s been noticed.

Regardless of that, Taichi does his best to focus on fixing up Banri’s face. It’s not as if it’s lots of work, rather, the issue is that his eyes keep straying towards Banri’s and, every time they do, Banri’s looking right at him and he has to look away. It makes his hands shakier than usual, so it takes a bit longer and that makes it even worse because now there's even more time for his eyes to wander... He wants to screech, but, again, it’s the middle of the night and it’d also be very uncool of him to do so right in front of Banri.

“Thanks,” Banri says as Taichi pulls away after what felt like forever, starting to clean up the mess he’s left on the counter. Banri stretches with a yawn, wincing only a little from the pain. He checks himself out in the mirror, “Better job than I’d have done.”

“Of course! Don’t underestimate my skills!” Taichi retorts, playfully sticking out his tongue as he turns back to Banri, finally finished putting things away.

Banri rolls his eyes. “Well, ‘m off to bed now. Gotta make sure I don’t wake Hyodo…” he trails off. “Actually, why are you awake?”

Taichi despairs inwardly. They'd been doing so well avoiding that topic too! Well, there's still the excuse he'd prepared earlier, so... “W-well, I couldn’t sleep, so I went to get some water and then-”

“And then I came in, gotcha.” Banri nods in understanding. Taichi's inner despair is replaced by a sigh of relief, grateful that Banri had cut him off before he'd made a fool of himself. His coolness is saved! ...or something like that. “Think you’ll be able to sleep now?”

Taichi scratches the back of his neck, slightly embarrassed. “Well, I dunno. I’m kinda really awake now, you know?”

“My bad, sorry. Well, I owe you one, huh?” Taichi watches as Banri brushes past him, pausing at the door frame. “Sleep well, ‘kay?” He smiles before disappearing around the corner.

Taichi blinks at the empty space. Is Banri cool or what? With just a few words and a smile, Taichi’s some-what erratic heart is already beating faster than it was before and he can swear his cheeks are getting hotter too! If he’s not careful, Taichi might start crushing on him - oh. Oh. Suddenly it all makes a little more sense - why he’d been so worried and nervous and distracted. He groans, burying his head in his hands.  With this kind of revelation on the brain, there's no way he would be getting to sleep anytime soon.

(“So,” Sakyo says in the morning. “Who was it that left the light on all night?”

Inwardly, Taichi shrieks, but outwardly he does his best to keep his expression passive. His attempt probably isn’t very good, given that he’d barely slept the night before, but he does his best to hide his guilt as he attempts to turn away without arousing suspicion. In his rush to help Banri, he’d forgotten all about it! Oh no oh no oh no, if Sakyo finds out, Taichi’s as good as dead and then-

“Oh, that’s me,” Banri states and Taichi looks at him, confused. 

“You, Settsu?” Sakyo frowns, unamused, and all the other troupe members in the room casually find themselves very busy with something else, not wanting to watch Sakyo release his wrath.

“Yeah,” Banri replies, purposely drawing out the word to get on the older man’s nerves. “Was up late ‘n forgot.”

Sakyo frowns, a blood vessel practically visible. “You’d better take care not to forget again, or the consequences will make sure you remember.”

“Sure sure, whatever you say, boss,” Banri replies with a noncommittal wave of his hand. He turns to catch Taichi’s eye and winks at him.

Taichi blinks back at him. Is Banri cool or what? Taichi’s heart flutters, helpless to the easy charm Banri displays. Taichi averts his eyes, but the smile on his face isn’t missed by Banri, who watches as his face turns red and his lips mouth out a small ‘thank you’. 

Sakyo doesn’t stop lecturing him, but Banri doesn’t mind too much. Taichi, he thinks for what isn't the first time today, is kind of cute.)

[fairydust-stuff]

Top Ten reasons to like Claude

Ok, here's the thing I dislike Claude as a person he's slimy, manipulative, emotionally abusive, acts like a perverted creep and he killed Alois then stomped on his poor little heart. That being said he's a great antagonist he's so good in fact it seems the writers had to make him Ciel’s stupid stalker later on in the season and make him too easily defeated by Sebastian dispite the fact, Claude nearly killed him in their first  fight. Also i now I've said this before but i hate when people hate on Claude but then praise Sebastian. They both manipulated and planned the death of children. Claude smashed Alois's head open, but Sebastian stabbed Ciel once he realized serving him isn't beneficial to him anymore. If you prefer Sebastian fine, but stop acting like Sebastian is a pure selfless saint who never does anything wrong. So let's take a look at Claude's less badly written attributes

1 Hobbies Come how many demons can do origami, tap dance and sew. Claude has actual hobbies besides being a butler and their kind of interesting and cool. Honestly i wish we knew how he learned to make origami or how he learned how to do a Spanish Flamengo and who else thinks get getting Alois and Claude as dance partners would of been epic!

2. Goofball For all his stiff upper lip, extreme formality and annoyance and disgust at Alois's immaturity and antics. Claude can be a real goofball he does that weird thing with his glasses to entertain Alois in the OVA. He starts a food fight with Sebastian while they're preparing food for the masters. Then he even dancing around taunting Sebastian going " He saw you! He saw you!" I may dislike Claude x Alois as a romantic pairing, but i have to admit whenever I see flashes of this slightly more silly side of Claude, i can see how Alois might of fallen for him.

3. Patience I've got to admire how easily Claude puts up with everything in comparison to Sebastian. No matter what weird antics or shenanigans Alois gets up to. Claude just goes about his business as usual, even when Alois literary stretches his face into a smile. He continues to not only put up with it but to keep talking. He makes Alois try hard to even get the slightest reaction from him and honestly props to him for that, because as much as I love Alois it must be trying to actually live with someone who goes through constant mood swings, and you have to fight just so you can dress them every morning.

4 Rivalry with Sebastian These two are so petty toward each other two demons got into a food fight, i repeat a food fight! When they're not trying to out demon each other, they're trying to out butler each other. Its hysterical to watch! Claude’s always the one to throw the first taunt and piss the usually arrogant Sebastian off. Anyone who gets that kind of reaction out of Sebastian i can't help but like. Also Claude nearly sliced off Sebastian's head and trapped him in his web in the first half of the season. For the first time in a fight in Black Butler there's actually a stake. Sebastian is matched by an equally powerful and cunning opponent this should of been a bigger plot point then it was. In fact, I wanted to see more of their fights just because they were so childish and Sebastian wasn't guaranteed a win without working for it for once.

5. Manipulative In a antagonist this is key and up until the end when he gets over confident. Claude skillfully played everyone on the chess board. He had Alois snared in his web codependent on him and cut off from everyone else both in the house and in London. According to an old writer roleplay Claude treated Alois like he mattered slowly reeling him in. He also tricked Sebastion by pretending to make a deal with him, that Alois would be sacrificed and they'd fight over ciel. When he wanted to eat them both the whole time. The smirk of smug triumph on Claude's face when he says " I'm afraid my rose decayed." implying he made the deal with a dying rose to make their demon pact not stick. He made Ciel think Alois's memories were his by shoving Alois's soul into his body and using a metal asylum to mess up Ciel's brain. Turned the kid against Sebastian and got him to order Sebastian to never see him again. Honestly he would of won if it wasn't for Hannah. So i have to admire his plan it was actually good as far as evil plans go.

6. Claude is a screw up This may be a weird thing to like but i honestly find Sebastian too good at everything sometimes. Claude who leaves sauce on the plate, doesn't know how to comfort Alois without being creepy, who gets over confident and tells Alois the truth in the maze, when a lie would have helped him more, underestimates Hannah even though she threatened him over Alois's safety is just less perfect and i like that because perfect characters are boring and it's not interesting to see them go up against anyone.

7. Relationship with Alois This twisted dynamic kind of draws me in in fact i don't think we got enough interactions between these two or explored their obsessive relationship. Yana describes Alois feelings for Claude as "addiction" implying a toxic inability to quite Claude. The interesting thing is Claude seems just as addicted to him. At the end of the show Sebastian points out the smell that intoxicated Claude was Alois soul not Ciel’s. That and the OVA Spider's Intention and season 2 flashback suggest Claude finds Alois facinateing " The soul who dances in fire” Claude describes him as. And furthermore Claude is drawn not to Alois’s cruelty like you’d expect from a demon grooming a sinner but his passion. Even when Alois’s is shown crying over the butterfly he acidently killed Claude is fixated on him like he’s something, Claude can't quite figure out. At one point when Alois uses the truth of Luka death to deceive the priest and Alaster. Claude looks visibly surprised and when Alois decides to take Ciel from Sebastian to make the other demon suffer. Claude calls him “ magnificent” and there is a subtext of the two them scheming together rather than Claude just taking orders. There seems to be a kind of twisted intimacy there between predator and prey with these two and their roles constantly swap.

8. His catchphrase People claim he stole it but that's ridiculous Sebastian says " I'm one hell of a Butler." Claude says "that's what makes a Trancy Butler." there's a huge difference. Actually I prefer Claude's catchphrase because it's never exactly the same. " Sugar into salt one moment" and Red into Blue the next." at least Claude keeps it interesting and it's never straightforward its almost a riddle that the viewer has to figure out his meaning.

9. Loyal in the end I'm still mad at him and annoyed all can give Alois is he was a worthy meal after all. I don't think it makes up for him screwing with Alois's head for all those years. However I can't help but notice even when he seemed to hate Alois, Claude never denied being a Trancy Butler it was part of his catchphrase. Actually as much as some fans swoon over how close Sebastian and Ciel are, Sebastion has never once defined himself as the Phantomhive Butler. His catchphrase puts the emphasis on how awesome he is while Claudes is a bit braggy as well, its implies to serve Alois to be a Trancy Butler is an honor. In fact Claude even dies saying " A stray dog into an Earl. " he even with his last breath still remains and is proud to call himself Alois's Butler.

10. Hints of discontentment . Claude mentions that he wanted excitement, something to ease the humdrum of a very long empty life with no purpose but devouring souls. This makes since as it hints Claude’s pursuit of Ciel had less to do with the boy himself and more to do with the fact he wanted danger, flash and a challenge even if it ended in his demise. In the end Claude acknowledges Alois brought excitement into his long boring life which was something he did not expect. This line implies Claude was as bored and apathetic as Hannah used to be and was looking to feel something as a demon through devouring and the thrill of the hunt because it never occured to Claude to try any other way. He's basically a demon haveing a mid life crisis, how can i not enjoy that?

[backandimbamon]

yes i spontaneously wrote a bamon drabble because i can never get their dialogue out of my head (:

Damon knew Bonnie.

In fact, he knew her so well that he could paint her with ease on an intimidatingly large canvas, blindfolded, holding the paintbrush behind his back.

They spent an aggressive amount of time together, plus he was a vampire so his Bonnie experience was intense- not one detail went amiss.

Like for instance, she liked her natural nails to have length, and never chose nail polish outside of flesh tones; her go-to was a sandy nude but it had to be just translucent enough to reveal a bit of her cuticle.

And the fact that she wasn’t a perfume girl, but more of an earthy oil type. If he could bottle her up in a fragrance it’d be a concoction of patchouli and vanilla, a hint of citrus zest and a bit of a floral scent because whenever she couldn’t sleep at night, she’d sprinkle lavender oil on her pillow which eventually would embed itself in her hair.

Oh, and when he fixed her breakfast she never failed to complain about his pancakes but she would always do an exciting finger wiggle before grabbing a fork and digging in.

The prison world did something to her. To them. He had ample amount of time to observe and truly see the little witch for who she was, an opportunity never granted to him before. In the strange case of forced matrimony, Damon was able to fully see Bonnie Bennet sans overbearing, attention-seeking friends, even if one was his beloved girlfriend.

There was always Elena and after that, Elena’s shadow, and after that, Vampire Barbie but in the prison world there were none and he saw elements of himself attach to Bon Bon like friction particles during traction. And even stranger, Bonnie was completely unaware, behaving in a very Damon-like manner as if she had always done so, like she had coined the phrases, prolonged the banter, carried the stichomythia all along. Like he himself was the imposter.

Seriously, all Bonnie needed was a black leather jacket and a Camaro and she’d be his own personal mini me.

And even when his hope of returning floated away like a stray balloon, forever with her didn’t seem that bad.

To say the silent truth didn’t make Damon’s heart warm would be a lie. Developing a strong eventual friendship with someone who wanted you dead years prior could heat even the iciest of hearts.

So he had positively known her. He had seen her face, day in and day out for months on end; clay brown skin, leaf green eyes, a smirking mouth (another habit she picked up from him, he noticed proudly,) with a bone structure a model would envy, Damon hadn’t thought of any other equation that personified Bonnie Shelia Bennett.

She was very pretty in a way that snuck up on him over the years, he became accustomed to her beauty because he could accept it, it was manageable and tame. Not a loud or demanding beautiful but a sacred and layered one.

Bonnie was basically sugar, spice, everything nice, with chemical x as her magical witchy woo woo.

But who knew something as simple as a new hairstyle could change someone so drastically.

“So what do you think?” She asked, brimming with a poorly contained excitement.

It was a quiet day in Mystic Falls, no monsters to fight, or talisman to acquire. She had just entered the boarding house as Damon grabbed a Bourbon from the kitchen, tumbler held by a lazy grip. His eyelids lowered.

Gone was the modest brown bob, the one that allowed her to be pretty but not intimidatingly so. The hairstyle that he had expected from her; the witch’s default to not draw too many eyes for fear of being unnecessarily seen.

Gone was the beauty that was also his because she shared it with him like a secret gift. Only Damon Salvatore could witness the depth since he was always too close, always too invasive and she had trusted him just enough to let her guard down. It was theirs but now it was hers.

In the place of the brown bob was silken chocolate roots blended into caramel-colored barrel curls that tumbled down her frame. Her face was more intense, skin browner, eyes moodier, lips no longer smirking but pouting instead. She looked more mature and not like the sweetheart that he had come to adore but more like a bombshell, a sex symbol- hot...

It was odd.

He was captivated by her face, how different she looked, an effortlessly sexy appeal that was so un-Bonnie-like that he probably would’ve hit on her if she wasn’t his best friend.

Damon was drinking in her appearance with veiled appreciation but she couldn’t know that. He contorted his brows in thought and brought a cocked hand up to his chin quizzically.

“Hmm...” he said walking closer and examining, if only to buy him more time to stare at her, study her, secretly admire her.

She narrowed her eyes, crossed her arms over her chest and shook her head in annoyance.

“Damon it doesn’t take this long, you either like it or you don’t.” That excitement had digressed to something else as she ran her fingers through her long hair self-consciously.

He stepped up to her, invading her space as he normally did, and pinched a few strands of hair between his thumb and forefinger.

“You’re right Bonnie, I don’t like it.” He said cavalierly, just to get a reaction out of her, just to make her feel a little less gorgeous because it was making him uncomfortable.

She stuck out her chin, arms still folded, “It’s not like I did it for you.”

The statement hung in the air like she had options, almost as if meek Bonnie Bennett had men standing in lines to take her out. Like her excitement to show him her new look only moments before didn’t exist because his opinion was no more important than the dust particles in the air.

“It’s okay if you don’t like it.” She stated, mouth certainly pouting now. He could see her defenses activating. “You’re entitled to your own opinion. This new look has nothing to do with you and everything to do with me and what I want. I think it’s-“

He rolled his eyes. “Save the women-empowerment speech for someone who actually cares, Bon Bon. I love it.”

“What?”

“Your new hairstyle. I don’t like it, I love it.” He over-enunciated.

That bubbling excitement returned, “You do?”

“Yeah. You’re blonde now,” he smirked and stepped even closer if that was possible. He circled her, eyes sliding up and down his Bon Bon to reassert that only he could be the sexy one in their duo, not her. No one else could master sexy the way Damon had. It leaked from him, she couldn’t compete with him for such a title. But Bonnie was barely bothered. Impulsively, her eyes rolled as he continued to walk around her as if he were critiquing an art display. He stopped in front of her.

“Little Miss Blondie Bennett.”

“How original.”

“I know, I put a lot into that nickname.” His hand was in her tresses before he could even register what he was doing, fingertips at her scalp, gliding to the tips of her hair with a light pressure. He released, then swept up the wisps of hair on the nape of her neck and tugged gently. Loose curls fell around his grasp.

“Didn’t your mother teach you not to touch a lady’s hair?” Her eyes were foggy when she gave him a weak glare and gooseflesh rose on her skin.

“Do I look like I listened to my mother?”

He still had her hair in his grip and he tightened it a bit for emphasis before dropping his hand abruptly.

There was something that stretched between them, like maybe it was cruel to have a stunning little witch and an eerily handsome vampire only be friends. Like maybe Damon should keep his hands to himself because other thoughts could arise like why hadn’t he noticed Bonnie like this before? Out of all the women he’s crossed paths with, why was it impossible to imagine the witch as a sexual being? Why did she seem above carnality? And Bonnie could think why she hadn’t allowed herself to be noticed, what made her decide to hide herself, to keep walls so high that it would take years to cave in? She could ask herself what it was that made her a supporting character of her own life; who would she be if she allowed one misstep, had made one wrong move? Would Bonnie Bennett still be Bonnie Bennett if she put herself first?

Blonde hair was a baby step.

The presence of Elena was there and not, omnipotent as the sun between the world of Bonnie and Damon because there was no way they could see each other in any other light outside of friendship. And Damon was seriously questioning why he couldn’t possibly fathom, could hardly bring himself to whisper the phrase, sex with Bonnie.

Bonnie was his first best friend ever. In his multitude of years, he hadn’t blurred that line like he did with the long list of women he met before. He could think of not one platonic friendship in his history of friendships that was with a woman. She really was his first. It was like there was a block in his mind that prevented him from seeing her that way.

It was... strange.

The silence was stretching, as thoughts blossomed between them about themselves and one another. But of course the duration wasn’t too long.

“You went to a salon?” Damon asked, attempting to rid the moment of that gentle intimacy as he held her eyes.

“Yeah, it was this guy from Atlanta. He said a caramel, slightly ash blonde color makes the green in my eyes more intense.” She paused. “Caroline’s gonna flip,”

“Yeah she’s not the only blonde in town now.” His eyes widened. “You’ll probably have to mud wrestle to fight for the official title.”

“How classy of you, Demon. I mean Damon. I think.”

“Ha, ha.”

He could feel himself staring at her in a weird, pensive way, despite his lighthearted banter. She looked like the exact opposite of him bottled up in a human being. She was stunning.

“I’m guessing you didn’t listen to your mother when she said it’s impolite to stare either.” Bonnie chimed smugly.

Damon didn't laugh, his eyes grew sincere as he held eye contact with her in a way that used to make her feel uncomfortable before she became accustomed to it.

“All jokes aside, you are beautiful, Bonnie Bennett."

Those words had never fallen from his lips before. Especially never with such a seriousness. It was a fragile phrase, profound and evocative because she couldn’t recall the last time someone told her that.

Her face grew rosy with flattery and maybe embarrassment. “Thank you, Damon.”

She could see how Elena could have fallen for Damon, regardless of Stefan Salvatore and his handsome, chivalrous nature. Everyone warned you against men like Damon because they could get anything they wanted out of you and the world. A wolf in wolf’s clothing. Somehow frightening and irresistible at the same time. He was the shiny apple, red as sin in the garden of eden, plump and juicy and ready to be eaten. It was only natural for Elena to succumb. Most women would if the apple was dangling so dangerously low to their lips.

But sometimes, like then, he wasn’t so predictable. He took you by surprise when you least expected it. Because he wasn’t just enigmatic, he was flesh, bone, almost human. He had feelings and reactions and even he could be taken aback by his best friend with blonde hair. And even he could appreciate a beauty that wasn’t just Elena’s without feeling guilty.

“Little Blondie Bennett. I could just eat you right up.”

He really could.

[tb5-heavenward]

You just know I'm going to ask about Covenant now, right?

well since you two are two of the only people who know about covenant (and i’m sorry bud, your editorial sensibilities are going to have to put up with my stylistic lower caps) and since I’ve finally watched that shitshow of a most recent episode, I am totally down to talk about covenant.

but first let’s talk a little bit about TAG

TAG is terrible.

Visually the show is gorgeous. It has improved by leaps and bounds and it was charming when it started and it is awesome now. WETA are absolutely the bedrock of what makes this show worth watching, and I love the visuals more and more as they continue to push those boundaries. The cinnamontography, etc.

The Thunderbirds are amazing. They are beautiful, intricate, wonderfully clever machines. Their pilots ain’t half bad either. If you know and truly love the show and think about them all as well and deeply as they deserve, I think it’s impossible to honestly pick a favourite. International Rescue is a fantastic premise. The Tracys and their associates are all strong, compelling characters who have been iterated into an updated retro-future and made universally deeper and more interesting.

The bread and butter conceit of the show is awesome, the tension and conflict and creativity around solving complex problems that they manage to demonstrate in the course of a twenty-two minute episode sometimes just boggles the mind. When IR gets put up against the forces of nature and straight bad luck and pure, audacious dumbassery, we have gotten some of the best moments this show has to offer.

And those first season episodes were ugly as shit and everybody sounded the same and there were maybe three spare models between the entire NPC cast, but my GOD did S1 ever have heart. The soul of the show belongs to S1 and no one will change my mind about that. Try it. EOS was incredible. Skyhook was the definition of a balanced ensemble episode. Fireflash. Tunnels of Time. Relic. Recharge. Extraction. S2 came back swinging out of the gate with Ghost Ship. Up from the Depths was an absolute masterclass and actually changed the stakes in the show for the first time. Bolt from the Blue. Power Play. Hyperspeed. We all know which episodes were fucking good as hell. S3 comes out and the visuals have improved yet further. They have firmly found their feet as animators and as actors and as characters. We are finally actually starting to learn about these boys and their father, the most glaringly obvious hole in the show at large. Night and Day. Life Signs. And then SOS 1/2 and a complete and total paradigm shift. There is a sense of mortality to TAG now and it is an edge of realism that SHOULD be able to elevate it beyond what it’s been so far.

And yet.

TAG is fucking terrible.

Five years on, I am entitled to say, TAG is absolutely the goddamn worst sometimes, holy fucking shit. And what makes that terribleness terrible in and of itself—is that it’s because this show fails to recognize its most fundamental strengths. It fails to know what its audience will really connect to. And it’s because the writers’ room must be the goddamn wild west at this point, with the sort of nonsense these fucks are throwing at the wall and hoping to see it stick. It’s because whoever is in charge of the overall narrative arc of these seventy-odd episodes has not done what’s necessary to ensure TAG’s cohesion as a unified work.

(y’all hang onto your butts, i’m gonna do another brick wall metaphor.)

So what we have, five years on and seventy-odd episodes later, is a heap of bricks that WANT to be a wall, and we’re led to the impression that they’re SUPPOSED to be a wall, but they haven’t been put together by any single person. They have been put together by a rotating cast of a few dozen people who orient the bricks they’re given in slightly different ways sometimes, or who lay them at odd angles or who brought their own bricks from home for some reason. David Tennant is there. He must have cost at least half the budget for all of S2. All in all, he’s just another brick in the wall.

We know by this point that there is some asshole vaguely in charge of the idea of the wall. You can kind of tell that he’s at least heard of walls and he would definitely like to build one, but he isn’t exactly making it happen. There is an edifice here. It is wall-like, in some regions. At the end of the day though, most people who come across it also step over it, no problem. Or they chisel out the bricks that look to be worth saving and kick the rest of the wall over. That’s just fandom. That’s what fandom does.

Now, it is necessary at any point when talking about children’s media to talk about another series that ran three seasons over sixty-one episodes, and covered a level of geopolitical conflict over the course of a single year from the perspective of five incredibly gifted young people, all of whom were complex and flawed and sympathetic, and who knew they were responsible with putting the world to right with their own hands and set about doing that in the face of incredible odds, against villains who were no less than ruthlessly sociopathic.

ATLA sets a high bar. TAG was never going to be ATLA.

But fuck, I wish it had tried.

I wish the people who had set out to remake this story had sat down together and said, “Over the course of the next three seasons, we will tell the story of what International Rescue is. We will explain how it came to be. We will have strong themes that persist through the show and repeat themselves for emphasis: One Problem At A Time, You Can’t Save Everyone, Someone Has To Try. We will explain who these boys are and how they came to be this way. We will make it deeply and obviously clear what they do, how they do it, and why. We will give them limits. We will let them fail. We will give them flaws, we will let them clash with each other. We will let them grow and change. We will give them one deep, powerful loss that is the bedrock of what they became. We will put a powerful force in the world that loathes and opposes them at all costs. We will give them a tiny fragment of hope to chase and chase and chase and let them catch it only at the moment when they’v’e finally learned that they can let it go.”

I wish there had been rules. I wish there hadn’t been a new villain crammed into every season, in a show where the villains are objectively the weakest part. To add four villains to a show that barely has room for one and then to expect to make them ALL have a sympathetic edge somehow—it’s absolute fucking idiocy. I don’t care that The Hood is Kayo’s Uncle and Smiled In a Picture One Time. I don’t care that The Mechanic Is Apparently Being Mind Controlled Though No Indication Of That Was Given At Any Point in His History Until We Were Told So Explicitly. I don’t fucking CARE that Havoc Gets Yelled At By Her Boss Who Is Mean. I don’t give a shit that Fuse Is Apparently Too Stupid To Have Recognized The Moral Component Of Any Of His Criminal Acts Up Until He Inflicts Them On The Tracys.

You know which villains are objectively incredible in this show? Langstrom Fischler. Professor Harold. Francois Lemaire. Ned Fucking Tedford, who is a villain on the grounds that he is an obstacle, a problem to be solved, a concept of a person so hapless that they have multiple times strayed in the most incredible kind of peril. The strongest villains in this show are the ones who are just PEOPLE. People who are being careless. Or who are being greedy. Or who are being self-aggrandizing. People who exhibit traits equal and opposite to what our boys in blue exemplify.

I don’t know. We’re coming to the end of S3, we’re nearing their grand, incredible climax, this promised moment of potential reunion—and I wish I cared. I really wish I could. But there’s so much clutter. There’s so much their pulling DIRECTLY out of their asses in the home stretch. There are so many loose threads, there are so many concepts that were introduced and then never explored, or which were introduced in the end game and then never reinforced. There is so much information that we should have had from the start, so many mysteries that went unsolved and uncared about because they were unmentioned. There is not enough room for them to resolve anything in a meanignful way. There it so much that it seems like THEY didn’t know, and they SHOULD HAVE. They had time. Five fucking years, they had so much time to figure this out. And yet.

anyway.

So, covenant. Covenant basically a codeword for what I would’ve done differently, the last time I got mad about this whole endemic problem with the writing in this show, round about two years ago now.

Covenant is just a good word, really, and while it means something as a title, that relevance has kind of degraded a bit. It was going to be a rewrite of the end of Season 2, and sort of a retrofitting of Season 2 as a whole. It was going to explore the ideas that they put down and then never picked up, it was going to seriously address a lot of the core conflicts in the show and set things in motion to resolve those problems. I have it started. I have a good couple thousand words of the beginning, but it’s a good enough beginning that it could potentially begin something else, and so I won’t publish it here, in case I end up using it somewhere else. As is, it’s a priveleged-eyes-only sort of work, it’s only really been passed around my inner circle. If anyone is interested in hearing more about that, hit me up and I’ll elabourate. But for now, it is quarter past eleven, and I have ranted for long enough.

[kimjongdaely]

Mismatched Destinies [Chapter 1]

Fantasy!AU, Royal!AU, Arranged Marriage!AU

Pairing: Chen x Reader

Warnings: Language, violence, maybe future smut

Summary: Your kingdom has been invaded. While trying to run from your pursuers, you accidentally fall down into the “Monster’s Realm.” But they might just be your only hope to fight back.

Prologue│Chapter 1│Chapter 2│Chapter 3│Chapter 4│Chapter 5

You can feel drips of cold water fall onto your cheek, effectively waking you up. As you do, you see flashes of white, pinks and purples scurry away from you. Groaning, you clutch at your head, trying to remember what happened.

Feeling yourself, you don’t think you’re hurt, which is a miracle. You happened to land on a bed of moss which cushioned your landing, but a fall that big should’ve hurt you somehow. You wave the puzzlement away, just glad you’re okay.

The flashes of colors appear again, and upon better inspection, you find little mouse-like creatures coming out from their hiding places in the crevices of the rocky walls. Their eyes glow faintly in the dim lighting, looking at you curiously. You’ve never seen creatures like them before.

“Hello.” You whisper, pushing yourself to stand. “Uh, do you know how to get out?”

They squeak cutely, scurrying around as if both curious and scared of you. You can’t help but smile. As you take a step forward, they immediately back away, heading deeper into...a rocky tunnel. It gets darker, and you don’t really want to follow.

“Um, is there no other way out?” You ask them, wondering if they can even understand. “I need to go ‘up.’” You point upwards, at the light from where you fell.

They squeak harder, still going deeper into the tunnel as if leading you. Their glowing eyes allow for a source of light through the darkness. Sighing, you follow, since it’s the only path you see.

The tunnel seems to go on forever. If it weren’t for the glowing eyes and constant squeaking to reassure you, you think you might’ve given up and gone back the other way.

The dark makes you shiver, and down here it’s surprisingly cold.

At last, you see light at the other end. The creatures’ squeaking gets louder and more excited. You break into a run, eager to get out of this suffocating tunnel.

You blink and squint against the burst of light as you finally get out, the creatures scurrying away and before you knew it, they’re gone. You’re alone now, feeling unsure and uneasy.

You realize you’re still underground, despite how bright it is down here. You think you’re under that big mountain.

But down here...it’s amazing.

You stand amongst a beautiful forest, a distinct path leading through it. The light is warm and comfortable, and you find a flurry of flowers growing around you—flowers you’ve never seen before. They don’t exactly look like the flowers growing above-ground. Little orbs of light—similar to fireflies, but you can’t tell exactly what they are—floats about. They move and shift and follow you as you move.

This place seems nothing like your home above-ground. It’s more...magical. More dream-like. Much more beautiful and calming.

Heading down the path, you keep a cautious eye out for anything threatening. So far you’ve only seen a bunny-like creature with antlers hop by. You can hear birds singing...except they sing actual words. You can only catch glimpses of their songs:

...future...set...change...

...mismatched...destiny...lovers...

You decide their songs don’t make much sense.

As the trees lessen and open up to a more airy path, you find a form sitting against a tree trunk. Cautiously, you slow down, taking small, quiet steps towards it.

It looks like a man. He wears something that resembles a uniform your guards or soldiers did, though it looks much more casual. He has no armor on, just a black button-up shirt and a brilliant red cloak covering most of his upper body, a gold crest clipping it in place around his shoulders. In fact, if it weren’t for the crest, he might’ve been mistaken as a bandit.

His dark hair curls over his right eye, and he looks asleep. Comfortably so as the dappled light dances across his features.

You wonder who he is, or who he serves. You’ve never seen the crest before—a bird-like creature that resembles nothing you’ve seen, surrounded by what looks like tongues of fire. You wonder if he’s friend or foe, but if he lives down here, maybe he could become a friend.

You walk up to him, and he doesn’t wake up. You’d think a guard—or whatever he is—would be more alert. “Um, sir? Excuse me, sir.”

He cracks an eye at you, and you gasp immediately.

His eyes.

They glow a strange crimson, a mixture of reds that keeps shifting continuously. 

You back away, trembling.

He smiles, a lazy and amused smile as he sits up, getting a better look at you. He ruffles his hair, still looking half-asleep. “Hey. What’s a human doing down here?”

“I-I...” You struggle for words, still unable to tear your eyes from his strange ones. “What are you?”

He chuckles, a deep rumbly sound that makes you shiver. He folds his arms behind his head, crossing a leg over the other and shaking it gently to an unknown rhythm. “Me? I’m a monster, sweetie. So,” he breathes out pleasantly, “What’re you doing down here, in the Monster’s Realm?” He eyes your clothes, the pretty dress you wear, and you feel very self-conscious under his scrutinizing gaze. “Looks like you’re a noble or a royal, hm?”

“I...” He doesn’t know you, which is good. A monster, he says? You’ve never heard of a ‘Monster’s Realm’ before. Still, it’s hard not to believe him when you’re in a strange place underground, staring at his glowing red eyes. You decide to lie, hoping he might put down his guard around you. “I’m a noble. I accidentally fell down here and need to find a way back. Can you help me?”

“Hm.” He hums, watching the leaves rustle as a breeze blows. An easy smile reappears on his face. “Sure. I was just getting bored sitting here all day.” He stands, brushing himself off. You thought he might be taller, but he stands at a normal height, not exactly threatening. He smiles again. “The name’s Jongdae. You?”

You don’t want to tell him your real name. His eyes remind you of... “Ruby.” You blurt out. His smile widens, cocking his head at you and for a horrible moment you think he might’ve seen through you. But then he nods, stretching.

“Alright then, Miss Ruby. Let’s get going, yeah?” He leads you down the forest path, and a little while longer you enter a pretty town. He stops at the entrance, turning towards you with the same grin. “Welcome to Flurin Town. Now, try not to stray too far from me. Not all monsters are friendly towards humans.”

You don’t need to be told as you eye some monster passerby warily. There are monsters with too many horns, too many eyes and too many limbs all about. It’s difficult to look at, and you try to keep the shivers down.

As you follow Jongdae—closely—through town, you can’t help but notice the monsters eyeing you carefully. You avoid eye contact whenever you can. 

He leads you to a small inn, the place looking a bit rundown, but friendly enough. The sign reads: Cinna Inn.

“What’re we doing here?” You ask him. “I thought you were going to show me the way out.”

“Yeah, well.” He shrugs, holding the door for you. “The only way out is guarded by the King himself. You need to talk to him in order to get through. The castle is quite a ways though, so it’d be best for you to sleep here for tonight.”

You frown, but accept his answer. You walk into the inn and a wave of...cinnamon? hits your nose the second you enter. 

Jongdae heads straight for the reception, his smile lazy and friendly. “Hey, Bon!”

“Well, well.” The receptionist—a surprisingly tall and furry bunny-like monster—rolls her eyes at him. “What’s the trouble-making sentry doing here?”

“Aw, Bon.” He leans on the counter slyly, an innocent look on his face. “What’s wrong with visiting a friend? Also, I need a room.”

Bon raises a brow. “You? You live, like, down the street. Why do you need a room?”

“Not for me, sweetie.” He gestures at you, and Bon looks at you with surprise. “For this girl.”

“Oh! A...a human!” She exclaims, blinking as if she can’t believe her eyes. “I...I’ve never seen a human before...Wow.”

You manage a smile and a small wave, words failing you at the moment. You can’t believe you’re talking to a bunny either. 

Bon composes herself, now eyeing you with suspicion. “What’s a human doing here? I don’t recall humans being able to get past the barrier.”

“She said she “fell.”” He gives a strange emphasis to the word. “Wants to find a way back up. But hey, getting a room for the night is the best thing to do right now.”

Bon takes another good look at you before shrugging her shoulders. “Alright, fine. I don’t usually ask about my customers. But mark my words, Jongdae, if you bring trouble for me, I’ll skin you alive.”

“No trouble.” Jongdae promises, raising his hands in surrender. “No skinning.”

Bon nods, seemingly pleased with his answer. She opens a drawer, pulling out a key with a number tag on it. She hands it to him. “Room 210. That’ll be 50 Reds.”

“Reds?” You repeat, puzzled. Jongdae pulls out a small pull-string bag, pouring some of its contents out. He counts 50 of the smooth, red, pebble-like stones.

“It’s our currency,” he says. “These are called Reds.” He shows you one. It sparkles prettily, not made of any material you recognize. “I think it’s similar to the ‘gold’ you humans value.”

“It’s not a very creative name.” You murmur, handing it back to him. Though 'gold’ is not a very creative name either. You add, “Thanks, um, I’ll find a way to pay you back.”

Jongdae smiles easily, shrugging at you as he puts his bag away. “Sure, sweetie.”

You narrow your eyes at his tone. He sounds like he’s mocking you, like he doesn’t believe you can pay him back. No matter what, you are still a princess. Albeit an on-the-run princess.

He sees the look in your eyes and his smile widens. “Come on, I’ll take you to your room.”

You follow him up a flight of wooden stairs, down the hall. The smell of cinnamon lingers.

He stops at the room 210, handing you the key. “Here we are. Have fun.” He tips an invisible hat at you, and then walks away.

You blink, and he’s gone. You’re surprised at how fast he moved. You unlock the door, taking a look at your room. It’s well-kept and looks pretty clean. It has a musty smell though, but you can get used to it.

Theres a single bed off to the right, next to the window. There’s a small couch attached at the foot of the bed, facing a TV set. To the left is a vanity table against the wall with a large round mirror. The bathroom is right beside it.

You sigh, sinking down on the bed. It’s pretty hard, but it’s something. Now that you’re alone and have a moment to process everything, you feel like crying. You can still imagine the fire, the blood. Can hear screams, the begging, the sobbing.

You put your face in your hands, trying to stop the trembling, the fresh memories.

Oh, what are you going to do now?

Prologue│Next Chapter

Mismatched Destinies Mini Masterlist

A/N: I am freaking INTO this world-building asdkdj I’m so hyped for this. I hope you’re enjoying the fic so far! Please tell me what you thought!

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