#and then when i reply i reference my notes so i dont forget anything they said

[capricores]

does anyone else take notes while listening to their friends voice notes so that they don't forget anything and can reply accordingly or is my capricorn venus/dominance and virgo dsc showing

[atomicami]

omg HIII. could you maybe like- write abt like abby and reader at school (in college obvi) and abby pulls reader into a bathroom and like makes sure it’s empty and locks the door, and things get uh.. hot and heavy?🤭

U DONT HAVE TO IF U DONT WANNA BUT THIS IDEA POPPED INTO MY HEAD AND IM A SHIT WRITER AND HAVE SHIT GRAMMER.

btw, ur awesome.

hi anon! i hope you don’t mind, i changed the setting to a college/frat party instead, but i hope you like it though! tysm for the love 🤍

all clear

abby anderson x fem!reader (college au)

- summary: it’s halloweekend, and after a lot of convincing, you reluctantly agree to be dina’s plus one to a costume party that’s being hosted at her boyfriend’s frat house. the night flies by slow for you, until an encounter with a certain classmate changes that.

- content: smut MDNI, no outbreak/modern au, reader and abby are in college (as stem majors), reader is a little introverted, frat house setting, college partying, some alcohol consumption, bathroom hookup, kinda softdom!abby, oral & fingering (r!receiving), reader is wearing heels, and abby tells you to keep them on, nicknames instead of y/n (mostly angel), and i think that’s it but lmk if i missed anything else

- author’s note: happy halloween everyone! i’ve been having a bit of writer’s block with my bfm!abby fic lately, so i have to admit the timing for this request was perfect since it gave me the inspiration to write out this fic. i hope you guys like it!

“I still don’t get why you won’t come join me.”

You let out a sigh, taking your eyes off of your laptop and looking over at Dina, who was currently getting ready.

“Because, Dina, I’ve told you a million times that parties are not my thing,” you reply. “Especially if it’s in one of those awful frat houses.”

For the past week now, Dina’s been trying to get you to come to a costume party that’s being hosted at her boyfriend’s fraternity, Sigma Chi. It’s known to be one of the biggest fraternities at your university, and it’s also known for throwing the biggest parties.

The thing is, unlike Dina, you could honestly care less about college parties. What was the point of drinking and partying all night long when you’d just end up passing out and forgetting everything the next morning? You didn’t see the fun in it. If anything, you’d rather be spending a Saturday night curled up in your bed with a movie than getting blackout drunk and waking up hungover on some random person’s couch.

Dina finishes zipping up her skirt before turning around to face you. “But it’s Halloweekend…Don’t you wanna get out of here for a bit, and have some fun?” she asks. “I seriously don’t get how our dorm doesn’t give you any claustrophobia.”

You let out a chuckle and roll your eyes. “I think I’ll be fine, Dee. Besides, I need to study for my chemistry midterm next week.”

Dina lets out a groan in response. “You’re seriously going to spend this night locked up in our dorm studying?” You watch as she walks over to your bed with her black over-the-knee boots in hand and sits down next to you to put them on. “I truly love you babe, but you have got to let loose a little.”

You look over to your side as Dina goes on while she zips up her boots. “Besides…” she continues, zipping up her second boot. “There’s a possibility that a certain classmate of yours might be there…” she says with a wink as she nudges your shoulder with hers.

The ‘certain classmate’ that Dina was referring to was Abigail Anderson. She was also a STEM major just like you, but particularly majoring more towards the engineering field instead. You’d be lying if you said that you didn’t find her attractive, but you never found the desire to go for her simply because you felt like she was out of your league. You figured that she only saw you as nothing more than a classmate who would always sit in the back row during every lecture.

You shake your head and roll your eyes at Dina. “Just because Abby and I have the same chemistry class doesn’t mean we have actual chemistry, you know.”

“Okay, but she’ll probably still be there…maybe this party could be an opportunity for you to create some of that chemistry…” she replies back, nudging your shoulder once again.

Dina was most likely right about that. Abby didn’t seem like much of a party person either, but her best friend Manny sure was. Coincidentally, both Manny and Jesse just happened to be in the same fraternity together, which created a mutual connection between the two of you. And given that both Abby and Manny were on the market right now, chances are that she was going to be at that party too.

But as much as Dina was trying to convince you to go right now, you were trying your best to hold back.

“Well even if I did want to go…I still have a midterm to study for, so I still can’t come,” you said, pointing toward your laptop screen.

Once you turned around, you didn’t see the smirk that was growing on Dina’s face. She was so close to getting you to give in and join this party with her.

You felt the weight of your bed shift as Dina got up and walked around to where she was now standing in front of you. “You can study tomorrow,” she says, closing your laptop shut. “Come on, we’re going to the frat house.”

“But I don’t have a—”

“You can find something in my closet.” she interrupts back, pointing towards her closet. “Now start getting ready, I'm gonna go fix up my hair so we can leave.”

You watch as Dina picks up the set of bunny ears off her bed and walks to the bathroom, the sound of her clicking boots following along with her. After a moment of hesitation, you finally muster up the energy to get off of your bed and walk over to Dina’s closet to pick something out.

Your eyes meet with a crammed closet of clothes once you open the doors of her closet. As a roommate, Dina was one to keep her things organized, but when it came to her clothes, it was like an addiction. Her closet was so packed that if one more hanger were to go inside, you’re convinced that it would probably burst.

Taking a deep breath, you dive into her closet and dig around for her past party costumes, praying you’ll find a good candidate to wear for the party. You’ll have to admit that it's definitely not gonna be an easy task, given that Dina is obsessed with all things tight and revealing when it comes to going out, especially with costumes.

You fish out a few costumes from her closet and bring them over to your bed, spreading them all out to get a good look. At first glimpse of the costumes, you realize that none of these options are a good fit for you, so you try your best to pick the best option through the process of elimination:

Schoolgirl? No…

Nurse? Not really…

Cowgirl? Perhaps…

Mermaid? Absolutely not.

Eventually, you’ve narrowed your choices until there was just one option left: an angel costume.

You pick up the costume off of your bed and take a look at it. The outfit consisted of a white tie front corset top, paired with a white skirt and thigh highs, and topped off with a halo and large feathered wings. Out of all the costumes that Dina had in her collection, you figured that this one would be the most suitable for you.

The bathroom door opens, and you look up to see Dina now fully ready in her Playboy bunny costume. She smiles once she sees the costume in your hands. “That’s a perfect choice, and I even have the shoes to match with it,” she says, pointing at it. You then feel her hands on your hips, motioning you towards the bathroom. “Now go get ready! I don’t wanna miss the party!”

Yeah, this was going to be a long night for you.

🕸 ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩🕸 .𖥔 ݁ ˖🕷️🕷.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 🕸 ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩🕸

The two of you arrive at the Sigma Chi frat house, and you can already tell how packed it is just by looking at it. Music was blasting, multicolor lights flashing through the windows, and even a group of guys chugging a keg on the front lawn. The sight of it alone was already making you start to feel sick. You’re starting to wish you were back at your dorm now, studying as you were before Dina dragged you to this party. But it was too late to back out now.

You both approach the front door of the house, and Dina rings the bell. A smile soon appears on her face once she sees Jesse answering the door.

“Hey you!” she exclaims, leaning in to give her boyfriend a hug and kiss before pulling away to adjust his hat. Based on the red velvet robe, anchor chain, and captain’s hat, it's clear that Jesse was dressed up as Hugh Hefner to match up with his girlfriend.

Jesse smiles back at her before looking over to you, his eyes slightly widening in surprise. “Wow, I did not expect you to be here too,” he says to you.

Dina looks back at you before looking back at Jesse. “Believe me, you have no idea how much convincing it took me to get her to come join me,” she says to him.

Jesse simply nods in response, his eyes now on the both of you. “Well in that case, welcome to Sigma Chi,” he says, stepping towards the side to allow you two to come in. “Make yourselves at home, there are drinks and food in the kitchen, and whatever you guys do, please don’t fuck with the thermostat…the electric bills in this house are already fucking expensive as it is. But other than that, knock yourselves out.”

As soon as you enter the house, you realize that it is just as chaotic as you saw it from the outside. The night’s just getting started, and you truly have no idea when it’s gonna end.

Before you know it, 20 minutes have passed by, but to you, it feels more like a decade. You were upstairs, sitting on a couch, watching Dina and Jesse play beer pong with another couple. You’ve drank less than half of the Twisted Tea that’s in your hand, simply because you had thought at the time that it was just a regular iced tea when you picked it out of the cooler. The music and lighting were overbearing, and the corset and heels were practically suffocating your chest and feet by now. You wanted nothing more than to leave the frat house and head back to your dorm to rid yourself of this feeling.

But instead, you stand up from the couch, deciding to opt for a different drink from the kitchen downstairs. Before leaving you walk over to Dina and tap her on the shoulder to let her know. “I’m gonna get another drink,” you tell her loudly, hoping she can hear you over the music. Dina looks down at your drink and nods. “Get something stronger next time! I think Jesse has a bottle of Smirnoff in the liquor cabinet!” she shouts back at you.

You simply sigh and walk out of the room, the hard iced tea still in your hand. You look down and watch the liquid sloshing around in the small hole of the can until you bump yourself into a familiar figure.

“Shit!” you mutter quietly, almost spilling your drink. “I’m so sorry, I—“ your words get cut off as soon as you look up to see who you have just run into. “Abby?”

“Hey there,” she said with a smile, looking back down at you. “I didn’t expect to see you at this party…what brings you here?”

“Oh, I um…” you stammer, looking back into the room you had just walked out of before turning back to her. “Dina wouldn’t stop begging me to come so…I’m here.” You tell her.

Abby nodded in response, finally putting the pieces together. “Makes sense, I definitely figured you wouldn’t be a party person, not that it’s a bad thing though.” she tells you. You can’t help but notice her checking you out, her eyes trailing over the angel costume that was tightly hugging your figure. “This costume looks pretty on you,” she says, running her thumb and pointer finger through the large feathered wings that were on your back.

You try your best not to get flustered over her compliment. “Thank you, um…” you take a moment to look at what she was wearing. She had on her usual clothes, dark wash jeans, and a muscle tank, except she had on a backward snapback hat with the fraternity’s emblem printed on it. “Are you…supposed to be a Sigma Chi member?” you ask.

You hear the blonde let out a chuckle before nodding again. “Yeah, um…costumes are never really my thing, so this is really all I can come up with,” she tells you. “Besides, Manny dragged me into coming to this party anyway, so I figured I’d steal something out of it.”

You smile back at her response before letting out a chuckle as well. “Well, it suits you, Abs…” you let out a sigh before continuing. “If I’m being honest, I’m so glad I ran into you…This night has been flying by so slow for me,” you admit to her, briefly looking down at the ground.

That’s when an idea passed through Abby’s mind. However, she needed to know if you were up for it. “I can help it fly by faster, if you'd like…”

You looked back up at her, and you truly couldn’t hide the smirk that was appearing on your face. “Is that so?” you ask her. “What do you have in mind, exactly?”

She doesn’t respond right away, but instead reaches a hand out to you. “How about you come with me?” she offers, smirking back at you.

You hesitate for a moment before soon giving in, leaving your drink at the nearest surface you can find before grabbing her hand and following her. She walks you down the crowded hall before stopping at a door that was on her left, assuming that it might be a bedroom or bathroom. She opens the door with no hesitation, only to be greeted with an angry couple protesting from inside.

“Shit! Sorry!” she exclaimed, quickly closing the door again. She then turns to you and you can’t help but let out a laugh, leading her to shake her head at her poor decision to do that. “Come on, I think there’s another bathroom downstairs.

With your hand still being held by hers, you walk down the stairs with her until you get back to the first level of the frat house. You then feel her hand letting go only to snake itself around your waist, holding you close to her broad build as you both walk through the partying crowds of people. Abby soon stopped at a door that was on her right, this time knocking twice before slowly turning the doorknob to take a peek inside.

You also try to take a look inside to see if it is empty. “All clear?” you ask her.

She nods in response. “All clear.”

You then feel her hand moving over your wings down to the small of your back, motioning you to go inside first before entering herself, closing the door shut, and locking it.

The last bit of patience you had left was now gone the moment you stepped into the bathroom. Once Abby had turned around after locking the door and switching the light on, you grabbed her by her muscle tank and pulled her toward you in a kiss. As soon as the contact hits her, you can feel her lips smirking against yours in the kiss. One of her large hands rests at your waist while the other runs through your hair, causing the plastic halo on your head to fall and clatter on the ground.

You try your best not to trip on your heels as she slowly walks you backward toward the bathroom counter that was by the sink. Her hands that were on your waist and in your hair soon moved down to the back of your thighs, giving you a boost to lift you and sit you down on the counter.

Abby pulls her lips away from yours to get a good look at you, smiling as she does so. Your lips were plump from kissing her, your hair slightly messy from when she was running her hands through it, and your eyes were blown out with lust and desperation for her. “Look at you, my angel…” she murmurs, running a thumb through your lower lip line. “So beautiful for me.

Her hand trails down to the front of your corset top, fingertips landing on the silk ribbon that held it all together. “Is it okay if I untie this?” she asks, holding her eye contact with you.

You nod.

“Words, angel.”

“Please, Abby…” you whisper out to her. To Abby, that response was more than enough for her to start undressing you. The ribbon from your corset begins to loosen, and you instantly feel a wave of relief wash through you. Once the ribbon was undone, Abby then uses both of her hands to loosen the rest of it, just enough to free your tits out.

A whimper escapes from your mouth once you feel Abby’s hands on your breasts, your nipples instantly hardening from her touch alone. “God…such pretty tits…” she murmurs out to you, leaning in to quickly kiss down from your neck to your tits, her mouth latching onto one of them and gently sucking while her hand is gently squeezing the other.

More whimpers and whines escape from your mouth at the contact, followed by your thighs rubbing and clenching together. Abby was quick to notice that, removing her mouth and hands from your tits as a result. She takes off her snapback and tosses it to the ground next to your halo before getting down on her knees in front of you.

Once Abby was kneeling on the ground, that’s when you decide to remove your heels, desperate to get them off of your feet. Abby notices this as well, and catches one of your heels before it fals to the ground. “Leave them on, angel.” she tells you, slipping the heel back on your foot. “You look so fucking sexy in these.”

Normally, you’d just protest about how much they were bothering you and take them off anyway. But you simply oblige to keep them on for Abby’s sake. You were willing to go through it a little longer to stay on her good side. You wanted to be good for her. You wanted to be her angel.

Her hands are now making their way up your thighs, stopping at the bottom hem of your skirt. She then bunches the tight fabric that was hugging your hips before pushing it up, allowing more space for you to spread your legs open for her. Her eyes were now met with your clothed cunt, along with a visible patch seeping out of your white thong. She soon hooks a finger underneath the fabric and shifts it to the side, revealing your wet pussy from underneath it.

The sight of your pussy alone already had her mouth watering. Your slick was glistening under the dim, incandescent light of the bathroom and your tight hole was visibly clenching around nothing, desperate to be filled.

“Fuck…” she groaned out quietly as she gently ran two of her fingers over the surface of your cunt, collecting a bit of your slick in the process. “Is this all for me, angel?” she asks, looking up at you.

“M-Mhm…” you whimpered back, nodding quickly. “It’s all for you, Abby, please…”

Abby averts her gaze back down to your pussy, watching as your slick trails itself down to the bathroom counter. She was soon quick to dive her head in and lick an experimental stripe up your pussy to collect your slick on her tongue, achieving the taste of you as she did so.

“My god, angel…you even taste just as heavenly as you look right now,” she mutters out quietly.

Abby wasn’t lying about that. From her perspective, you were truly a sight for sore eyes right now. Legs spread out for her, head thrown back in pleasure with the material of your costume bunched up around your waist and hips to show the parts of you she wanted to see the most, all while your wings remained steady on your back, surrounding your precious figure. You truly looked heavenly in her eyes, and the sounds you were making from her touch sounded just as angelic as you looked right now.

Without delaying any longer, Abby inserts two of her fingers into your pussy, The sudden movement startles you for a bit, before your cunt soon begins to relax around her fingers.

“Look at that, angel…she’s taking my fingers so well…” she murmurs to you, watching as your pussy greedily sucks her fingers further inside. “This pussy is already doing so good for me, baby…I bet you’ve been wanting this for a while now, haven’t you?”

You nod quickly once again. “G-God, yes, Abs…I need you so bad..” you whimper back to her biting your lip to keep yourself from moaning any louder.

Abby notices once again, and brings her free hand up to your bottom lip to free it from the grasp of your teeth. “There’s no need for that, angel…I need to hear those pretty sounds of yours.”

With her fingers still nestling inside your cunt, she brings her mouth to your throbbing clit, gently sucking on it as she slowly pumps her fingers in and out of you.

It didn’t take long for the speed of her fingers to increase. The faster her two fingers pounded into your pussy, the harder her lips would wrap around on your clit, taking away all of the space in between as she continued to suck on it.

As a result of her fast movements, the sounds your body was making in that bathroom were absolutely obscene. Between the wet squelching noises of your pussy and the moans and whimpers that were escaping from your mouth, Abby can’t help but feel so turned on from it, practically rubbing her own thighs together for some relief as she continued to devour your pussy.

Your orgasm quickly began to build itself up inside you, and based on the way your cunt was squeezing Abby’s fingers right now, she could tell you were getting close too.

“A-Abby…I-I think I’m gonna cum…” you whine out to her, both of your hands gripping onto the bathroom counter while your hips begin to involuntarily grind against her face.

“Let it out for me, angel…” she murmurs into your pussy, her movements still refusing to quit. “Take it out on me, baby…fuck my face until you finish, just like that…”

Your hips rut against your mouth a few more times, along with the involuntary movements of your pussy tightly clenching around her fingers and your clit pulsing in her mouth.

You instantly finish into her mouth and onto her fingers with a loud moan of her name, followed by your thighs trembling right after your climax. Thank God that the party’s music from outside was loud enough to keep anyone else from hearing what was going on inside.

Abby soon removed her mouth from your pussy while slowing the pace of her fingers, fucking you through it as you progessively recover from your orgasm. You hear a quiet groan escape from her mouth as she pulls her fingers out of you, watching as your cunt pushes out your thick white release and let it drip its way down to the counter. You watch her do the same movement from before, licking another stripe up your pussy to collect the rest of your release onto her tongue.

Once you were clean, Abby removes each of your legs off of her shoulders and pulls herself away from your pussy, wiping whatever that was smeared on her face with the back of her hand.

Abby then picks herself up off the floor and stands in between your legs to fix up your costume. Once you were all good, she helps you get off of the counter and back on your feet.

You reach over to pick up your halo off of the ground, Abby also doing the same with her snapback. “Thank you again for that, Abby…This definitely made my night.” you tell her, biting your lip again to hide back your smile.

The blonde smiles at you in response. “Of course, angel, its no problem…” she takes a quick breath before continuing. “You know…you can spend the night at my place, if you’d like..” she offers to you, nervously rubbing the back of her head as she does so.

You smile back at her and nod, your eyes beaming at her blue ones. “I would love that, actually.”

Abby then turns the knob and opens the door, revealing the chaotic atmosphere of the party once again. “Come on, let’s get out of here.” she tells you, keeping her hand back around your waist and by her side.

From that point forward, it was safe to say that the rest of that night was anything but slow for the both of you.

- a/n: i’m so sorry if this looks rushed, i really wanted to have this out by today! @ anon if you’re out there i hope you enjoyed it 🙏🏻

happy halloween y’all, stay safe for me tonight 🤍

tags 🏷️: @ourautumn86 @abbyscherry @whore4abby @zombholic @catfern

2023 © atomicami | all rights reserved. do not copy, modify, or translate any of my works.

[bromineiscandy]

What a PLEASURE to finally be here. I've been watching for at LEAST 3 months and I must say I enjoy watching you all bicker it is Very Entertaining! Ha ha ha!

((OOC info under the cut, pinned post))

another blog by me, bunny, the person who came out of nowhere swinging SEMI-LUKEWARM

null will randomly blip out of existence with my motivation and energy levels!

THERE MAY BE DISTURBING CONTENT ON THIS BLOG, PLEASE BE AWARE, IF YOU NEED SOMETHING TAGGED POLITELY ASK OR UNFOLLOW

i tag the following:

blood // horror gif needles anatomical hearts bats deep ocean

since mobile is a fuck, heres the ooc page info put here

my name is bunny, im 25+, i do not want to be addressed

im also over on crow, honey, and julia’s blogs

id like to avoid the tumblr chat “function” as much as possible, especially ic, i do not receive any kind of notification that i have a new message and it will not update with new messages unless i manually refresh the page. it leads to miscommunication and me missing things frequently and i dont like that. 

additionally, i am no longer given activity notifications, so communicating through replies on a post is a good way to have me not see it! please reblog whenever possible if you want to have a conversation

if you talk regularly with honey or null and we are mutuals you can talk to me ooc/ask for my discord,, if i draw you things i am trying to be friends, but i am not very good at being friends and do not have much to offer

im not Extremely picky with who i follow, but i have people whos judgement i trust and will block freely and without hesitation. im here to curate my ideal experience, not save the feelings of a stranger. 

while i understand that ic=/=ooc if your character spews blatant bigotry of any kind please dont interact, actually

this page does not accept magic anons

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

██████ ████ was born in the ████ ███████

they are a nonbinary kindred of indiscernable race

they are 5’7”, approx 145 lbs

they were embraced ████ years ago by ███ █████ and are a malkavian of the █th generation

they have been going by null between identities that they take on, and prefer to be referred to as such

null is a touch and sex-repulsed aro-ace

they are a well practiced and extremely talented chemist and are addicted to inhaling caustic chemical substances. frequently they struggle to function, even without needing to breathe, without having a gas mask on. it reeks of chlorine and vitae. 

null has a memory spanning three months and will forget you if they do not keep in contact for approximately three months time. 

null does not remember anything about their past or previous lives, and everything they write is in indecipherable codes and different languages and scripts. 

they have a ghoul named Ripper who they collected ████ years ago, Ripper keeps null safe when they are unable to or when they are unaware of the dangers around themself. 

they are friends with a mage self-turned construct named Heim who they affectionately refer to as The Good Doctor, who has been responsible for dozens of cults over the centuries

they have also made friends with Delilah multiple times over their lifetimes.

between times of voluntary torpor they will frequently fully forget who they are and who they are or have been associated with. they rely on their own notes and the recollections of Ripper and The Good Doctor.

will add more if i can think of anything

[smolcuriouskitten]

Rules & Navigation Tags below the cut!

1. My blog is semi selective as of 2022. I will not follow back each time I receive a new follower. On the flip side, if I follow and I see selective or mutual, I strongly hesitate to interact even if the follow is or isn't returned. I haven't had the best experience when trying to meet new mutuals, so if I don't reach out first regarding interactions, its nothing personal, just me being more scared of disrespecting boundaries than anything else. So if you have any questions or hesitation regarding interactions, shoot me a message!

2. Rockelle has a triggering past including abuse, domestic violence, rape, cheating, etc. I have an umbrella tag, 'dont pull it; {triggers tag}' which is for any and all triggers. I will tag the individual triggers as best as I can but if you wish to avoid any and all topics including any sorts of triggers, please block the designated triggers tag.

3. I am a mobile only user, I do not use desktop Tumblr at all. I attempt to make the experience as similar to desktop tumblr as possible but of course since we do not see the same thing, I apologize for any inconveniences this causes you. This means I cannot cut posts or replicate most of the features from desktop, I dont do much to my blog mainly due to the limitations.

4. Icons credits goes to @tutorgirlcommissions @tutorgirlrph , @estrangedaframian , @eternalyouth , @mountaindcw , @thedumpofrps and @coinflippcd and my blog layout credit goes to @ofwaterandfire ! Thank you to all of them for making my blog a wonderful place and desktop friendly!

5. I dont have any triggers but if you have any ideas or scenarios that might be considered weird, talk to me about it, I dont bite, promise!

6. Want to be an asshole towards Rockelle? That's completely fine and is not seen as an attack towards the mun at all. How she reacts is something your character has to deal with.

7. Check the tags during roleplays! Within the first few replies, I try to make little tags that describe your character! It could be a movie, song, tv show reference or even a joke! I work hard on them so look at them or I steal kneecaps. >:(

8. Anytime I get a new mutual, I send a thank you message! It helps with me keeping track of them and it opens the door to talk about scenarios, plotting, etc. And if you don't respond, thats okay! I will still interact with you and love your muses just the same! Side note, if I forget to give a thank you, it doesnt mean I dont like your muse or you any less!

9. Rockelle is 100% fandomless so she doesnt fit into one verse or universe. If the desired verse is not under the verses post, feel free to ask me about anything you like! Dont think Rockelle only fits into a bubble due to her character design, just ask!

10. I do not have a banned faceclaim list but I strongly hesitate to interact with those who use dead people as faces. This does not apply to canon characters such as batman, joker, etc due to them having 'new' faces depending on the era.

11. For my mobile users, all of my character info and other related content is under the #lovely kitten; {character info} or #lovely kitten {character info} tag for easy access.

12. Me being a mobile user, I cannot see your rules, info, etc if you do not have a caard or link available on your blog. So if I reach out to ask for them, please dont take it personally.

13. Want to stop a roleplay? Cool! Want to change the trajectory of how the plot is moving? Cool! Want to ship? Thats very cool! You just have to make sure to communicate these things with me. I am not a mind reader and while I will try to be as upfront as possible regarding things, I do not want to make anyone feel discomfort or not enjoy roleplaying with me. I wont bite if you no longer want to continue interacting or cut out something in a roleplay! I wont know until you tell me, communication is key!

14. Rockelle is a multiship muse and is dating several people in different universes. If in the roleplay she has a significant other, she will not cheat on them as that is a trigger for her. However by default (unless discussed) Rockelle will be single due to her 'in universe' story. Due to trauma, poly relationships are a fat no for her as well.

15. Muse is 128 and mun is 21, both of age!

16. I respond either at lighting speed or I take awhile due to lost muse. I do not expect a response to be given within a timeframe or within a designated period. Take as much time as you need seriously. No need to apologize, shit happens.

17. Please do not steal anything from my blog. I will literally hunt you for sport. Dont play with me.

18. The most important rule of all, have fun and enjoy the chaos! ❤️

About Mun!

~ Sup! Names Gigi and I am 21 yrs old! Gremlin and a person with endless zoomies 24/7. If you are my mutual, I will most likely send tiktoks and random things that remind me of our roleplays.

I do have a discord that is available for mutuals if asked!

[themostvindictivemind]

Time to brainrot about something I guess since I'm being kept up with a migraine.

Now you probably wouldn't think it from looking at me, but I am actually very, very much deeply obsessed with linguistics. To an unhealthy degree, some might say. And one of my favorite linguistic concepts is "This is a stupidly hilarious pun in Language A, but it makes no sense in Language B" The prime example of this is an old Sumerian/Babylonian joke that at this point has had several thousand video essays written about it. You know the one: "A dog walks into a tavern. 'I can't see anything!' he says. 'I'll open this one.'"

And who could forget the Greek Philosopher Chrysippus? In one of the accounts of his death, it is said that he got a bit too drunk at a party and, upon witnessing a donkey eating figs, he said "someone should get that donkey some pure wine to wash down the figs!". He then fucking died of laughter at his own joke. Beause apparently that was the funniest shit he'd ever seen.

Now neither of those make sense in any living language or modern culture, but the fact that it was written down at all means it made enough people laugh for it to be worth recording. And it's fun to look at living languages and see what makes the native speakers laugh but still utterly baffles everyone else. Even better, digital archeaologists in a thousand years are going to have a field day with this post if they ever stumble upon it, so here are a few of my favorite untranslatable puns: Hungarian: A man is pulled over by the police. The officer asks, "Are you drunk?". The man replies, "No, sir, Ivett is my wife"

Japanese: Why dont Hawaiians go to the dentist? Good teeth.

Finnish: "A bar and a screwdriver". That's the entire joke, by the way. Set up and punchline, apparently both right there, and in the original Finnish it's only two words. Apparently it's a reference to something? I'm just going to assume this is a thing you say and people laugh, much like "omae wa, mou shinderu"

Spanish: What fruit is the most patient? It's a pear. So fun fact, my Aunt is from Mexico, and I decided to tell her this joke in the original Spanish (which as a consequence of having a Mexican aunt, I speak pretty well). And I shit you not that as soon as the words "es pera" left my mouth, she let out the longest, heaviest, most world-weary sigh I have ever heard in my 20 years of life, before returning to the tamales she was making. I guess she now knows that my pun game has transcended to include her native language, and in that moment she was preparing herself for the ensuing decades of Spanish wordplay

Another from Japanese because they are gods of wordplay: "7-Up, Pepsi, Coca-Cola, they're all types of what?" "Soda?" "That's right!"

Chinese: "Who is Mi's mother?" "Hua, because peanuts". I took Chinese in high-school and I can verify that this is the shittiest pun I've ever seen, but the reddit user who posted it says "I am yet to find a single Chinese/Taiwanese person who does not find it hilarious"

Aussie English (which I'm including both for English rep and because Aussie slang is so markedly different that Brits and Americans are still unlikely to get it): "What's the difference between fat and cholesterol? You can't crack a cholesterol".

Danish: One sign says to another, "Are you married?" The other replies, "No, I'm divorced"

AND MY PERSONAL FAVORITE: French: "He wished to be Caesar, but he died as Pompey" -- George Clémenceau, commenting on the death of President Felix Faure (I refuse to explain this one or give any further context, go look it up)

Oh and side note. Obviously, no world leader can speak every language, so interpreters are a necessity for negotiation. And of course, world leaders and diplomats are going to try the lighten the mood occaisionally with humor. But for negotiations between most countries, that's hard to do, because there are very few puns with much cross-linguistic utility. Sure, you have that one joke about where cats go when they die that works in English and most Romance languages, but for some more serious negotiations, the number of puns that would make sense in both languages is pretty close to zero, and may very well BE zero. So the question arises, how do interpreters deal with that? Of course there are a lot of possible methods, not all of which are good or even remotely efficient. You could just translate the pun word for word, but as evidenced by the fact that that's literally what I did above, it's not gonna work that well. Explaining the joke also isn't gonna fly, because as we all know, the second you explain a joke is the seond it becomes Not Funny Anymore. The method I've found that I think works best is just to say "They have said a pun that doesn't translate well to English. Laugh now." Which is funny not just because it works, but because it works amazingly. That person on the other end of the table (who we are assuming doesn't speak a lick of English) has no clue what the interpreter is saying, and so must assume their joke was translated faithfully. Sure, their interpreter might know depending on how the whole thing is set up, but considering the vetting process you have to go through to be an interpreter for the POTUS , I highly doubt anyone is going to risk national security over a joke being left untranslated. Both leaders have a laugh, everything ends on good terms, and we avoid nuclear annihilation for another few weeks.

[eleganteldritch]

───── ❝ 𝐑𝐄𝐏𝐎𝐑𝐓 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄: ❞ ─────

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﹒

〘 ‣𝚁𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚗/𝚅𝚘𝚒𝚍/𝙼 | 𝟸𝟽 | 𝙣𝙗/𝙖𝙜𝙚𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧 | 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙮/𝙝𝙚 | ♌︎ |

feel free to refer to me by either ‘names’, as i will not reveal my real one (personal choice)

please use gender neutral or masculine leaning pronouns!

‣𝚖𝚞𝚕𝚝𝚒 𝚏𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚘𝚖 & 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐﹔𝚖𝚊𝚒𝚗, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚙𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚎𝚖𝚒 𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐

𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐅𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦/𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭：Markiplier Cinematic Universe/Iplier Ego content

𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐅𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐬/𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬：Jacksepticeye Cinematic Universe/Septic Ego content, D&D (as a whole & D&D related content and media like Critical Role), League of Legends/Arcane, Overwatch, Dragon Age, Kollok, Vampyr etc.

‣𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚛/𝚛𝚘𝚕𝚎𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚎𝚛, 𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚝𝚘𝚛, 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚝

writing has been an extensive interest of mine for a little over 10+ years, and editing for less time. i do both, and theorize, all in my spare time! ...and with enough brainpower to spare. i’ve kept to FB primarily but had tried other sites/apps in the past. plan to also bring my writing on other sites (wattpad, a03, here) 〙

‣𝕋𝔸𝔾𝕊 (𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥)—[#voices from the void]normal posts, [#the void rambles]theories, headcanons, and general rambling, [#vile void]vent posts, [#vital void]any important info or update, ???

‣𝕋𝔸𝔾𝕊 (𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜/𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫)— 〙[accursed attorney : M]District Attorney/Captain / Y/N sona, [heartbroken hero]Actor/Actor!Mark, [forgetful friend]Wilford/Wilford Warfstache, [analytical android]Google/Google IRL, [pitiful puppet] Chase/Chase Brody, ???

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Requests Open !

✔️ DO/REQUEST： ego headcanons and theories, ramble(s), writing requests/asks[mainly do fluff and angst & open to write canon content and self-insert / Y/N content], inquiries or questions on DA/Captain sona M (current blog appearance), inquiries on personal thoughts of ego lore, questions for me!

❌ DONT/REQUEST： suggestive/18+ NSFW content IF YOU’RE A MINOR[minor/ageless blogs will be blocked if needed], edit requests (will not be sharing edits here), spam hearts or reblogs, invasion of privacy/ask for any other personal information about myself that i haven’t shared or chose to make known

note–i will be taking my time on any asks or requests sent in, as i always have something else going on IRL and with my well-being in some way. i suggest not requesting anything if you’re looking for a fast or timely writer/poster. please be patient and respectful.

yes ik there’s several other blogs out there that do the same things i do, and that have been around longer and provide better written/more favorable content, so please don’t compare me to other blogs or otherwise diminish my content in any way. this isn’t a competition

i have the choice to accept or deny any writing, theorizing, or headcanon-ing asks/requests if i either cannot reply in some way, or feel comfortable and confident enough writing topics outside my knowledge and comfort zone. not that i fear differences in things or feedback or constructive criticism, but i’m not looking to add any unnecessary stress

i am quite the introverted and reclusive individual, and have trouble interacting sometimes and making new friends. as friendly as i can be, i usually don’t seek to openly make friends on my own/by choice.. so respect my lack of interaction especially when i’m busy or unwell

asks/requests are free to be submitted anonymously, and to lmk what sort of anon to refer you as via symbols or emojis, or any sort of pen name!

───── ❝ 𝐄 𝐍 𝐃 ❞ ─────

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𝐛𝐢𝐨/𝐭𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞(𝐬) : @ aestheticbio

[gayaristocrat]

I Got Everything I wanted...

Episode 1: Filmed Before a Live Studio Audience...

Pairing: Vision x Male Reader

Taglist: N/A

‼️Authors Note‼️: I'm finally at a point where I can write this story. I know that It is long overdue, so I hope this can make up for it. This story is going to be breaking the 4th wall a lot since they tend to do that in the actual show. Also, please let me know in my Inbox/Askbox if you would like to be tagged every time I upload a story to this series. While reading this, you may realize that it seems rushed, and that's because it was. I wanted to put this out as soon as I possibly could. Also since you guys voted that I just divide it up into parts for you to read. I will be uploading part 2 whenever I am able to.

Summary: (Male Name) and Vision struggle to conceal their powers during dinner with Vision's boss and his wife

Time Period: 1956 (So everything in this chapter is going to be colorless and in black and white)

Word count: 4k+

Word Key:

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Have you ever dreamed of living the life you always wanted? Have you ever dreamed of something so bad to the point where you would do anything to get it. Have you ever dreamed of something so bad to the point where all of your care for others went out the window? Have you ever dreamed of wanting something so bad to the point where you would stop anyone who gets in your way.

"(Male Name), I love you so much. Please don't do this, cant you see that everyone is hurting, that everyone is in so much pain?"

"I'm sorry Vision, but I can't. I can't loose you...not again. I never meant for things to be this way, but now I can't go back. Not without you"

---REWIND MANY EPISODES BACK---

For a second, everything is black. The TV clicks on and a burst of grey static illuminates the screen. Everything is black and white, not a single drop of color is in the area. A happily little tune starts playing as a colorless 1956 Buick Special drives up a tiny hill and back down past a sign which says 'Speed Limit 35'. The camera angle changes to the back of the car, showing a banner above the license plate, 'Just Married'. Next, the camera cuts to us, (Male Name) and Vision, newlywed husbands.

It finally happened, we finally got married! Both of us turn take a quick look and smile at each other with nothing but love and glee, it seemed like nothing could go wrong in this moment.

🎵Oh~

A newlywed couple just moved into town,

A regular husband and husband,🎵

Vision turns his head back to the road and continues driving until we turn down a happy little neighborhood. Each house on the street has a pattern of different color greys with black roofs, their yards decorated with equally bland colorless flowers and grass. Children playing outside, and adults chatting with one another while they tend to their gardens, or while walking their dogs. Everyone is just so cheery and happy, even the mailman waves at us as we pass him. Everything is exactly the way it's supposed to be, perfect.

🎵Who left the big city,

To find a quiet life,

(Male Name)Vision!🎵

Vision drives into the driveway of our new home. We quickly hop out of the car and approach the house, but before we walk in I take notice of the 'For Sale' sign still in the yard. I quickly flick my hand and use my magic to change the sign to 'Sold'. After that I dust my hands off with a proud smile on my face as Vision scoops me in his arms bridal style, opens the front door, and carries me inside. I flick my wrist again and the front door closes and locks as we both move to the Livingroom of our already decorated 2 story home.

🎵He's a magical boy,

In a small town locale

And a hubby who's part machine,

How will this duo fit in and pull through?🎵

Once Vision puts me back on my feet, we start swaying with the jingle playing in the background while title cards pop up of written words that I don't care to read right now since I'm too busy enjoying this happy moment with my new husband. Vision then gives me a little twirl before wrapping his arms around my waist as we both dip into a loving heartfelt kiss.

🎵Oh, by sharing a love,

Like you've never seen

(Male Name)Vision!🎵

---SCENE CHANGE---

The scene suddenly changes as the lights flick on and cameras start rolling. You start the scene off by walking into the kitchen and start making your way to one of the grey drawers next to the oven and you grab one of your favorite aprons. Humming a little tune, you wrap the white cloth around your waist and start observing the kitchen to see what needs to be picked up or cleaned. Deciding to work on putting up the dishes, you raise your hand and the newly cleaned plates start levitating off of the counters and float off to the display racks, you then raise your other hand and a dark colored dish cloth floats out of the cabinet and it begins drying a glass cup. You then turn your back to the cup to observe if it had been cleaned good enough, suddenly you jump as a loud crash echoes through out the kitchen. Turn to see what the problem is, you only to find Vision looking up from today's news paper and glances at the shattered plate at the ground while a laughing crown erupts out of nowhere.

"My husband and his flying saucers" He says in his thick English accent (or is it British🤔), with a joking tone.

"My husband and his indestructible head" I reply back in the same tone as another laugh erupts from the crowd.

He then folds his newspaper and walked over to your direction, giving you a kiss on the cheek when he arrived, causing you to chuckle while twirling your finger, making the plate form back to it's original round shape before it floats off to it's designated spot.

"Vision, honey, what do you say to silver dollar pancakes, crispy hash browns, bacon, eggs, freshly squeezed orang juice and black coffee?" You say while walking over to the refrigerator, opening it and bending down, getting ready to grab out everything needed to make the meal for him.

"I'd say 'Oh, I don't eat food' " He says smiling at me, while the crown laughs again.

You look inside the fridge and hum to yourself in surprise while putting all the pieces together in your head before saying "Well, that explains the empty refrigerator then"

"(Male Name), my darling. Is there something special about today?"

"Well, I know the apron is a bit much dear, but I'm doing my best to blend in and have the 'Perfect House Husband' look." You say walking to meet him, assuming he's talking about the apron.

"No no, you don't have to try, you already are the perfect house husband." He says as he lightly grabs your chin with his pointer finger and thumb and lightly giving you a 'boop' on the nose. "But I was referring to the calendar. Someone's drawn a heart right above today's date." You then looked at him as you cluelessly try to figure out what he's talking about, so he puts his hands on your shoulders and turns you around to face the calendar behind you and he rests his chin on your head as you both look at the heart.

Trying to act like you know what day it is, you say "Well...d..dont tell me you've forgotten Vis?"

"Oh silly (y/n), I'm incapable of forgetfulness. I remember everything. That's not an exaggeration. In fact, I'm even incapable of exaggeration" He rambles boastfully.

"Hmm, well then if that's true, then maybe you can tell me what's so important about today's date"

He pauses for a second and thinks before he blows a slow puff of air out of his mouth, then deciding on saying "Uhhh...what was the question again? Oh well, no matter, perhaps you've forgotten yourself"

"Me? Heavens, no, haha. I've been so looking forward to it."

You both have actually been looking forward to day. Today you are celebrating...The first time you...uhhh...have ever celebrated this occasion before. It's a special day indeed, perhaps an evening?...of great significance?...to you both, naturally.. obviously...exactly! Well done for the both of you.

You two ramble on for a few more minutes trying to drill the other into spilling on what was so special about today, but you two couldn't since you were both obviously unknowing about it, then Vision remembered something.

"Well, sorry darling, that's me off to work, then." Vison says fixing his grey suit jacket and grabbing his suitcase walking to the front door. You quickly grab his hat hanging on the coat rack and place it on his head, fixing it to make it look straight.

"Also don't forget-"

"(Male Name), my dear how many times do I have to tell you I don't forg- oh you mean my face right?"

You nod letting him know that was what you were getting at. The audience laughs again as he quickly shakes his head and his face and hands transform from cold metal to warm flesh. Vision then puts his palm to his face and pretends to blow you a kiss, while you play along and pretend to catch it and put it over your heart.

Once he leaves out the door, you lock it a return to the kitchen, and make your way to the calendar, chewing on your polished nails (if you don't want nail polish then skip that part) as you try to remember the symbolism of the heart. Not even a second later your thoughts get interrupted as a loud knock at the door startles you back to 'reality'.

Going to go see who it is, you push the door that separates the living room and the kitchen, closer to the knocking. You quickly open the door and see a woman with a dark plaid dress and a styled black hairdo holding a grey plant in a white pot.

"Oh hello, dear. I'm Agnes, your neighbor to the right. My right, not yours" She says in a sing-song tone as she uninvitedly makes her way into the house. The eruption of cackles echo as you look at her in confusion as to why she decided to step inside, but decided to keep a calm attitude and not say anything about it.

"Forgive me for not stopping by sooner to welcome you to the block. My mother-in-law was in town...so I wasn't!" she says laughing with the audience once more as her dress sways with her movements. She rushes the potted plant into your arms and you smile and take it as she makes her way into the living room to continue her snooping. "So what's your name? Where are you from? And most importantly how's your bridge game, hon?" She says not loosing a single breath, and of course not giving you time to answer in between questions.

"Umm...Well I'm (Male Name)" You say reaching your hand out to shake hers

"(Male Name)? Charmed!" She joyfully says and returns the gesture.

"Golly, you sure do settle fast! Yes sir you did indeed! Did you use a moving company?"

"Why I sure did. Those boxes don't move themselves." The audience laughs as your inside joke, because let's be honest, the boxes did move themselves since you used your magic to decorate everything. (Damn (Male Name), you really are a powerful sum' bitch)

'"So (Male Name), what's a single boy like you doing rattling around this big house?" She says siting on the couch.

You laugh to yourself and dreamily look at the finger your ring should be on that Vision gave you to claim you as his, (He liked it so he put a ring on it.....sorry...anyways) but paused as it wasn't there. That's not right, because you could have sworn that it was there when you created this rea-

"Oh no, I'm not single I-"

"Well I don't see a ring

"Well I can promise you, I am indeed married...To a man. A human one and tall too! A a matter of fact, he'll be home later tonight for a special occasion just the two of us." You say putting emphasis on 'occasion' with a wink.

"Oh is it somebody's birthday? A holiday?" Agnes questions bouncing up and down in the couch with her legs crossed like a 'proper lady'.

"Well, no and no"

"An anniversary then?"

"Ye-uhh...yes, Its our anniversary!" You shout, finally able to remember what that heart meant.

Agnes waves you over to come sit on the couch with her and you obey, sitting down she grabs and rests both sets of you two's clasped hands on your apron.

"Sooo...tell me, how many years" She asks letting out a little squeal.

"Well..uhhh..it...it uh feels like we've always been together"

"You lucky man-" She shakes her head remembering about her own husband "-the only way Ralph would remember our anniversary is if there was a beer names June 2nd." She chuckles as the audience laughs from nowhere again. "So what do you have planned?"

"How do you mean?" You questioned her. I mean you never really did have time to come up with anything since you just realized, or assumed, what today was.

"For your special night, (Male Name)! A young boy like yourself doesn't have to do much, but it's still fun to set the scene. Say-" she says standing up to slowly make her way to the door "-I was just reading a crackerjack magazine article called 'How To Treat Your Husband To Keep Your Husband', and let me tell you somethin'...what Ralph could really use is, 'How to Goose Your Wife So You Don't Loose Your Your Wife'. She kidd's as her and the audience laugh. You look at her and shake your head trying to hold back your own laughter. "Hang on, I'll go grab it and we can start planning. Oh, this is gonna be a gas!" She shouts running to the door so she can leave and run to her house.

-----Time Skip---

Both Agnes and you are back on the couch, looking through her magazines trying to find ideas for the anniversary dinner you planned for you and Vision to share, when out of nowhere, the phone started ringing interrupting you two. You got up and rushed over to it hoping you don't miss the unknown caller, you pick it up and put it to your ear and then start talking.

"Vision residence how may I help you"

"(Male Name), darling I-"

"Vision, my dearest husband. How are you sweetheart?" You say cutting him off from his obviously panicked and frantic voice. I mean come on, you are just excited to hear your husband's voice after a hours of him being gone.

"Listen about tonight-"

You cut him off again, already knowing that he was going to talk about the anniversary. "Don't worry, dear, I have everything under complete control"

"Oh, well, that is a relief. I must confess, I'm really rather nervous" He says over the phone.

"Nervous? Whatever for?" You question.

"Well, you know, darling, I still get a little tongue-tied."

The audience coo's and aww's at how a dust of grey creeps up on your (dark grey/grey) cheeks. "Vis, after all this time..." you giggle out.

"There's a lot riding on this (Male Name)! If tonight doesn't go just so, I think this could be the end.

'Wait what' you think to yourself

"Well, it's just one night. There's no need to get dramatic." You say in a worried tone as you grasp your now queasy stomach.

Vision's tone begins to get more serious as the conversation continues in his attempt to express how important this is to you. "Look, I think the best course of action is to impress the wife."

"Well, first, I think you mean husband. And secondly I also think the best course of action is to impress the other husband too." You look over and give Agnes a thumbs up and a wink in her direction, and she does the same while sipping her martini.

"Glad to know we're both on the same page, love. Until tonight, then, my sweet little husband" Vision says making two smooching noises through the phone to you.

"Until tonight...my robotic husband" You return, whispering the last part so Agnes doesn't hear you. She couldn't hear you anyways, being too busy sipping her drink and flipping through the pages. You finally gently put the phone on the hook and return to the couch.

---Time Skip, Later Tonight---

Before Vision made it home, you set the big dining table that was next to the living room and tossed colorless silk scarfs on all of the laps in the room to set the mood and made your way to the bedroom to get dressed to surprise him for when he gets home. When you heard the door open and heard his voice, you tip toed your way out of the bedroom and into the living room, dressed a long fluffy white lingerie robe with white fur that wrapped around the arms of it which was trailing behind you, exposing both of your (dark grey/grey) legs. You then went all the way to Vision's black silhouette and gently wrapped your hands around his eyes, causing him to jump form the sudden contact.

The audience laughed again as they know your mistake. 'Where the hell is that laughing coming from, and whey is it happening right now of all times?' you thought to yourself in confusion.

"Guess who~" you seductively whispered to your husbands.

Suddenly the lights turn on and you hear Vision's voice that was filled with a mix of shock, embarrassment, and irritation at your recklessness. "(MALE NAME) WHAT ARE YOU DOING!"

You gasp and look in his direction. "Vision? What are you-" then it hit's you, if Vision is right there, then who's-

"Oh! Oh my stars, I'm so sorry!" You say to the man you mistook for your husband. You quickly uncover his eyes and stumble away from him as he stares at you in shock. Then you look down at your attire and try to cover your exposed leg as much as possible.

"What is the meaning of this!" The bald headed mad says appalled, as his wife stands behind him looking around cluelessly.

Vision interrupts with his stammering voice just as confused as everyone else. "Well..uh yeah (Male Name) what is the meaning of-" Suddenly it hits him and he tries to comes up with an excuse off the top of his head. "-Oh, the meaning of it! You want to know the meaning of it...and...the meaning of it is...that this is the tradition of (Random Foreign Country/Continent) greeting of hospitality. Uhh...guess who???" Vision says as he runs behind you and overs your eyes.

"Oh is that my host being me?" You say playing along.

"It certainly is, darling. Lovely to make your acquaintance" Vision says vigorously shaking your hand. "See i forgot to tell you my husband is from (Random Foreign Country/Continent)" he giggles along with the audience.

"Oh, how exotic!" The man's wife cheerfully laughs.

"I never knew such a place as that existed" He says in a dark yet serious tone.

"Oh hush Author, have you no culture. Oh and the robe, I absolutely love it!" His wife replies trying to lighten up the awkward mood.

"Thank you so much ma'am-" you march through the living room and snatch off the silk scarves from all the lamps and tightly grab Vision's hand. "-Can I just see you in the kitchen for a moment, sweetheart?"

You both then slam your way through the kitchen door and it swings closed behind you, leaving Vision's boss and his wife behind as they sit down on the couch and patiently (more like impatiently on Arthur's end) wait for your return. You then turn around and look at each other before throwing questions.

"Who are those people?!"

"What are you wearing!?"

"Why are they here?"

"What are you wearing!?" Vision questions again boldly

"Well, it's out anniversary, that's why I'm wearing this!"

"Our anniversary of what?" Vison says, desperate to know what the hell you were talking about. Eventually you had enough of these shenanigan's and throw the scarves down at his feet stomping your way to the kitchen chairs. "Well if you don't know, I'm not going to tell you!" you exaggerate, crossing your arms and pouting like a child

"(Male Name), darling! That...that man through there is my boss Mr. Hart! And his dear lady wife Mrs. Hart! The heart on the calendar was an abbreviation!" Vision whispers, roughly tapping his hand on the black heart drawn on the dull colored calendar.

You grab your head and shake it trying to put everything together. "Vision sweetie, you move at the speed of sound and I can make a pen float through the air. Who. Needs. To. Abbreviate!?"

Vision grabs both of your shoulders in an attempt to collect his thoughts and calm you down. "Darling, listen, it's all romantic to do the candles, the music, that stunning outfit. I don't wanna be unappreciative, but right now-"

"Your boss and his wife are expecting a home-cooked meal. Correct?" Vision nods his head while muttering 'exactly' while look around the kitchen in order to find somethin to serve to the unwarned visitation of guests. After looking around for a but, your eyes land on the mini round table that held a plate and food on it. "Well, does your boss and his wife have a hunger for a single chocolate-covered strawberry, split three ways?" Vision hisses while clenching his fists and shaking his head no.

"Oh wait, I might have better ideas" Without hesitation you raise both of your sands and snap your fingers, magically changing your outfit to the one you were wearing earlier that day, a pair of dark high waisted cuffed slacks and a white blouse to match (you can change if you don't like), and the audience claps in astonishment at your transformation whilst you tie your apron in a bow behind your back. Vision gives you a quick peck on the cheek and runs back to the living room to keep others company while you figure out what to serve everyone.

---Time Skip---

After minutes of looking, you couldn't find anything in the kitchen, and the refrigerator was empty, so you decided to call your good neighbor Agnes to see if she could pick up some things from the store and bring it over. A couple of minutes pass and you finally hear a familiar knock on the back door in the kitchen. As soon as you open it Agnes rushes through with her hands full of groceries stacked to her chin as she stumbles through the kitchen. Before you could even mutter out a 'thank you' she stops you dead in your tracks and puts all the food down on the table. "Before you can say anything don't think about it. I mean, what kind of housewife would I be if I didn't have a gourmet meal for four just lying about the place. Not that Ralph wants to eat anything other than baked beans, which explains a lot about his personal appeal, mind you." The audience laughs one more at her silly humor as you quickly render to her aid to grab some of the groceries before they could fall. Unfortunately, it seems like the Universe was not on your side since the large cooking pot crashed and hit the ground, echoing throughout the kitchen, while Agnes yelled out an overexaggerated 'oh my'.

You had to get rid of Agnes and as quickly as you can, so you decided to just push her out the back door despite her protests to help you cook. "Thank you so much Agnes but I can take it from here-"

"Are you sure dear, many hands make light work. And many mouths make good gossip too!"

"Oh ahahaha, you are so naughty! But-"

"Oh, shall I preheat the oven then? hmm?"

"That won't be necessary, thank you for your time!"

Somehow she managed to escape your grasp on her waist and make her way back to the counter to crab some kitchen tools to start cooking for you. "Well, I know you're in a pinch so this menu can be done in a snap." She says snapping her fingers before continuing her rambling. you run back over to her and snatch the utensils from her, setting them on the counter, and grabbing her arms to march her back to the door. "Lobster Thermidor with mini-minced turnovers to start. Chicken à la King with twice-cooked new potatoes for your second course, and Steak Diane with mint jellies for your main. Oh wait! Do you set your own jellies, dear?"

"Yes Agnes I do, now can you please-"

"Ah there you go, good boy! Recipe cards are all on the counter there. Bon Appétit!"

"Haha, yes will do, thank you so much again Agnes! Bye now!" You say slamming the door, making the audience laugh at your exhausted expression. Now that she's gone, you run to the middle of the kitchen and throw your arms around, making all of the drawers and cabinets in the kitchen fly open, the dishes start floating out, and the food starts cooking. Out of no where the doors to the island bar swoop open to show Mrs. Hart, but before she could see Vision distracts her by breaking out and singing Yackety Yack by The Coasters, causing her to break out into a little dance, making her way back to the couch. Dear gods and goddess', how lucky are you to have a savior like him.

But little did you know, that the night was only just beginning.

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Finish the fic? Leave a like and comment if you enjoyed it. Also, give it a reblog too! Once again, I'm so sorry it was rushed! Please don't be afraid to let me know if there are any typos or errors. I will go back and edit this

[joonessence]

The cough drop // jjk

summary: Jungkook enchants you from the second he catches your eyes from the stage of the small venue. You already know you’re gonna be falling in too deep. 

wc: 2,427

tags: jk fluff i guess idk what to call this, band au 

notes: this is way longer than i meant for it to be but it was so fun to write, also let me know if i should make it into a series??? possibly??  part 2 is here!

You had gone to a show with your friends for some unknown band. You’re sitting at a high table with your head supported by your hand; you’d had a long day at work and just wanted to go home. You stared at your untouched drink that had been set there by your friends earlier that night thinking of exactly which pyjamas you were going to change into when you got home; you couldn’t wait. Looking up, someone was already staring at you, eyes partially shielded by his drenched hair. He’s overwhelming from the second you meet eyes.

Your breath caught unexpectedly in your throat causing you to choke and cough. You feel your cheeks burning as you try to regulate your breathing. Once you find your natural state again, you glance up to see him still staring at you but his lips are curled up in a smirk. 

You try to carry on as usual for the rest of the night until it’s acceptable for you to excuse yourself to go home but you feel his eyes on you. You turn to look at him again only to discover that he’s walking in your direction, holding something in his hand. In under a second you decide to act indifferent towards him, already expecting him to pester you. When he reaches you, he taps your shoulder and holds out his hand.

“Here, you looked like you needed this earlier.” His words sound sweet but the sly smile on his face betrays him; it’s not what you were expecting.

You look down in his hand to find a cough drop. Inside, you want to laugh but you can’t give him the satisfaction. You look up with your best blank stare.

“Do you just carry these around so that you have a reason to talk to unsuspecting girls?”

The stranger laughs so loudly at that, throwing his head back and grabbing onto your table to steady himself. When he calms down, he opens the wrapper to the cough drop and pops it into his mouth. 

“No, but that was funny! I keep them for after we get off stage and my throat is scratchy,” he says with the cough drop pushed against his cheek. “What’s your name?”

You’re quiet as you try to analyze him, searching for his true intention behind talking to you. When you’re silent for a beat too long, he continues.

“I’m Jungkook, my band is the one that was playing earlier.” He looks smug, like he’s trying to impress you.

“That’s nice, Jungkook, but if you’ll excuse me I’ll be getting back to my friends now.” You say it like you mean it, but you don’t really mean it. You meet his eyes and he throws his head back again as if you’ve just said the world’s funniest joke.

“Babe, I’ve been looking at you for a while; you’re not even interested in talking to them. I thought I’d come here and offer you my companionship.” He’s still smiling and his eyes are twinkling, you can feel yourself sinking deeper into his charm.

“What makes you think I want the companionship of a stranger,” you point at him, almost poking him in the chest, then move your hand to refer to the other people sitting at your table, “over my friends?”

“Well, by the way you lost your breath when I looked at you earlier, I’d hazard a guess that you wanna talk to me.” He looks so pleased when your cheeks flame up.

“I’ll have you know that I’m getting over a cold and THAT is why I was coughing,” you say hoping he doesn’t see through your lie.

He laughs and puts his hands up, in mock defeat while reaching for something from his back pocket. He pulls out a pen and leans over to the table to scribble something on the wrapper of the cough drop. 

“Well, when you decide you want to talk to me, here’s my number,” Jungkook states while sliding the wrapper over to you.

“If. If I decide to talk to you,” you correct.

He smiles softly and shakes his head, you almost mistake it as an endeared action but you know your eyes must be deceiving you. 

“Okay, if you decide to talk to me, there it is,” Jungkook says as he’s walking backwards to get back to his table, still looking at you. 

You let out a shaky breath, glad that you’re by yourself again. Only, you think to yourself, he wasn’t as bad as you thought he’d be. You know you’ll decide to text him later but what he doesn’t know yet won’t kill him. You finally excuse yourself from your friends, eager to get home and on your drive back you can’t get Jungkook out of your head. His sparkling eyes, the piercings that line his ears, the tattoos he has on display. His image and his words are engraved in your brain.

You throw your keys onto the coffee table when you get back to your apartment and head to your room. You look at the wrapper with Jungkook’s number written on it. Trying to convince yourself that you have no idea why you took it is futile, you know exactly why you did. Against all logic, you take your phone and type a message to him.

[you]: DONT take this as me deciding to talk to you 

[you]: i was just wondering if you could tell your tall buff band member that i liked his voice

You laugh to yourself for a second before worrying he won’t get that you aren’t serious. You set your phone down and try to push down the regret that’s spreading throughout your body. Your phone dings and you reach for it immediately. 

[coughkook]: oooh :( my wounded feelings i’ll never recover

[coughkook]: i won't be tell anyone anything

[coughkook]: but

[coughkook]: you can come to our next gig and maybe i’ll let you talk to him

You roll your eyes at his last message. “Let you talk to him,” you scoff and look at your phone when it dings again.

[coughkook]: it’s next friday at 8 i’ll send the address

You don’t respond after he sends it, wanting to keep Jungkook on his toes. Truthfully, you’ve already decided to go and are drafting up an excuse to cancel the plans you had with your friends.

You don’t talk to Jungkook for the next five days, until you show up to the address he sent you. You take a seat halfway between the stage and the door and look around to find Jungkook on stage with his band members. He’s talking to the buff member you mentioned to him last week, the one you thought was cute but not nearly as enchanting as Jungkook. He spots you and leaps down the stairs of the stage, god he’s so cute.

“You came,” he says with a big, too bright smile compared to the dark atmosphere of the small venue. “We go on in like, ten minutes; I hope you’re ready to be blown away.”

You scoff and roll your eyes. Jungkook needs his ego taken down a notch or two but you still find him captivating.

“Yeah, yeah just go warm up,” you say with false annoyance and send him a small grin.

He runs back to the stage and gives you a thumbs up and that same blinding smile. Your head shakes involuntarily but in your head, you know you’re locked in for good. When the lights to the venue dim even more, you sit up straight to capture every moment of Jungkook while he’s performing. You’re not ready for the next 45 minutes you experience. Jungkook’s voice is so beautiful and so full of every emotion you can think of. You can’t look away even if you tried to. Is it the stage lights or is he actually glowing? His presence overpowers everything. The way he moves with a purpose on the stage, his hand pushing his hair out of his face every so often, his eyes locking with yours. You won’t forget any of it.

When Jungkook and his band are done, he looks to you and holds up his index finger to let you know he’ll be back in a moment. You’re thankful, you feel like you need an infinite amount of time to wrap your head around what happened enough for you to speak coherent sentences. Jungkook walks around the side of the stage and practically floats to you. As he gets closer to your table he points to a full glass of water you had ordered for him earlier with a smile and shoots his eyebrows up, as if to ask if it was for him. You motion for him to go ahead and he downs the whole glass in one go. Endearingly shaking your head at him has become second nature to you by now. He slams the glass down on the table and clears his throat.

“Well?” he asks, expectantly.

“Well what?” you reply knowing what he’s asking for but playing dumb anyway.

“Well what did you think?” you’re silent so he continues, “Of us? Of me?”

“Oh that! Yeah, it was good, I guess.” It was more than good but you don’t want to inflate his already too large ego. 

“Just ‘good’? You were on the edge of your seat the whole time! You basically fell out of the chair!” he says, exasperatedly. He narrows his eyes at you, “I see right through you, you know.”

“Yeah, whatever,” you say and hop off your chair. You push his shoulder to direct him to the table where his band members are. “Aren’t you gonna introduce me anyway?”

He groans but leads you there where he introduces you to them. It’s obvious that they’re more like friends than bandmates. There’s four in the band with him, Namjoon, Hoseok, Jimin, and Seokjin, and two friends Yoongi and Taehyung. You decide within a few minutes you like them all a lot. 

“So you met Kookie at our last gig, right?” Namjoon asks. He’s the buff one.

“Ah, yeah. He bothered me until I gave in and messaged him, didn’t you ‘Kookie’? ” you joke and turn your head to see him roll his eyes and huff.

“Sounds like him, when are you gonna stop bothering strangers?” Hoseok directs to Jungkook. 

“I can’t believe you guys are actually falling for this! I had her swooning for me the second she saw me,” Jungkook retaliates.

You wish what he said wasn’t true but you know it is. And seeing him with his friends doesn’t help the growing feelings in your chest. You spend the rest of the night talking with them and learning every embarrassing piece of information you can about Jungkook, you’ll use it all later. Way too often do you lose yourself in staring at Jungkook. He’s too alluring for his own good. When the night comes to an end, Jungkook offers you a ride home. Normally, you wouldn’t accept but you couldn’t refuse the way he begged you to go with him. In the car, Jungkook complains about how you spent too much time talking to his friends rather than him.

“Wait… did you think I was there for you?” You cover your mouth in faux embarrassment to accompany your act.

Jungkook’s head turns towards you. He’s got his mouth open in shock and he’s trying to come up with words when you take pity on him.

“I’m just kidding, Jungkook. Of course I went for you. You were really good,” you flush pink as you say it but not as pink as Jungkook flushes when he hears it.

“Thank you,” he mumbles and you laugh out loud.

The rest of the ride is spent with you teasing him for getting jealous and him teasing you back for getting so caught up in watching him. Neither of you deny it because you both know you can’t. Jungkook rolls to a stop in front of your apartment building and looks at you.

“I’ll message you when I get home, okay?”

You nod and let out a breathy “okay.” You thank him and tell him goodnight and walk up the stairs to the lobby of the building. You turn to look at him and he gives you a confused look.

“Why aren’t you going in yet?” he shouts.

You laugh loudly. “I wanna watch you drive away!”

He makes a face and you giggle. 

“Get back in your car, Kookie.” You shoo him with your hand.

He laughs to himself and it's his turn to shake his head at you but he listens to your instructions anyway. You watch him drive off until you can’t. You can’t think straight so much that you might as well levitate up to your apartment. Jungkook makes you dizzy. You’re not even sure how you changed out of your clothes and got into bed with less than half a brain left. You don’t wait long for Jungkook’s message.

[coughkook]: i’m home :)

[coughkook]: thanks for coming <3

You smile to yourself and respond wasting no time.

[you]: thanks for inviting me! :)

[coughkook]: come to our next one?

[coughkook]: if you can

[coughkook]: the boys liked you, thought you were funny. they want you to come again

You roll your eyes at Jungkook’s ego again.

[you]: hmm the boys or you?

[coughkook]: the boys AND me want you to come again

Your heart beats faster in your chest. You weren’t expecting Jungkook to be so honest, so quickly. You definitely would go again, definitely will go again, actually. 

[you]: oooh you like me so much

[you]: i’ll come

[coughkook]: ugh

[coughkook]: yes but i know you like me too so we’re even

[you]: hm

[you]: that’s fine with me

[coughkook]: good

[coughkook]:i’ll text you in the morning, goodnight <3

[you]: goodnight kookie

You assume he won’t see it until morning but you send him another message anyway but you’re surprised to see that he responds immediately. Wasn’t he supposed to be asleep or could he not sleep because he was replaying every moment he had with you, the same way you were doing with him.

[you]: i wasn’t sick

[coughkook]: i know LOL you thought i was pretty didn’t you?

[you]: ugh yes but i know you think i’m pretty too so we’re even

Your face burns at Jungkook’s last message of the night. 

[coughkook]: yeah but even if we weren’t even i would still think you’re the prettiest girl i’ve seen

[meltwonu]

| 🍒 CH-CH-CHERRY BOMB! 🍒 |     [CHAPTER 12]

pairing; dom!seungcheol x camgirl!reader

this chapter’s notes; camshow, sex toys, overstimulation, tiniest mentions of daddy!kink, a lil bit of a filler chapter!, this is the most btsvt chapter that it’ll ever get so i’m sorry if you dont like that!! 😭😭, a bit of a lighthearted chapter too tbh to ease everyone back into cherry bomb! 💕 I know its been like two fuckin weeks since the last update which is honestly insane to me! I almost couldnt remember where we even left off lmao kdjfhds 😩💕💕 Thank you for being so patient with me and waiting it out while we had two weeks of Monster Mash! Starting Monday, I’m gonna be going back to my normal posting schedule! 💕 have a great rest of the weekend, yall! 🍒 

chapters; 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11 - 12 - ?

“Wait, seriously? You want to work here? But--but I thought you were from out of town?”

Jun’s eyes light up with excitement; fingertips crushing the resume you passed to him moments prior. “Um, well, there was a change of plans… and I’d really like to work somewhere where I have a friend! If you guys are still hiring, that is...” You reply back meekly.

It’d taken you all morning to write up a resume, blushing a little when you realize most of your income had been from camming. It’d also made you pause for a moment when you realized that it meant Jun would also know your real name too; as well as everyone who came through the diner and all of your coworkers.

“Yeah, of course! I, um, just give me a second to pass this to my manager, okay? I’ll be sure to put in a good word!” Jun shoots you a wink before he turns to leave.

You take the opportunity to sit down at a nearby booth, fishing for your phone to text Seungcheol.

‘I think I might be getting the job!!’

cheollie ✨: oh? Not that I doubted you, but is it confirmed already?

‘Mm… Jun is trying to put in a word for me! But I’m confident!’

cheollie ✨: thats my baby ;)

You hear someone call your name hesitantly, only to find Jun standing a few feet away looking at you sheepishly. “Um, sorry, your name’s on the resume so I figured…”

“Oh! Yeah, it’s fine!” You awkwardly giggle. “I figured writing ��Cherry’ as my name wouldn’t be too smart when you need to cross-reference my ID if I get the job.” Jun laughs as he takes the seat across from you in the booth, papers in hand.

“Well, I convinced my manager to let me interview you. Told him that if we’d be workin’ together that I’d want to scope you out for myself! He bought it, can you believe it!?” Grinning, he sets your crumpled resume down next to a small stack of papers. “I don’t doubt you’d pull your weight around here but I do have to ask… Why here of all places? I thought your, uh, other job was enough? Or I guess I assumed...” You bite your lip, flip-flopping on whether or not you wanted to let him know exactly what happened that led to your sudden decision.

“Um… There were just some big life changes I had to make on the fly and I’ll be living around here now! I’m trying out some new things… I also figured if I worked with you, then you’d know my schedule the best too! And you seem like a really nice and cool guy.”

Jun nods, smiling back at you.

“You got that right!”

“You’re seriously going to start working there?” Jeongguk raises a brow, cables in hand as he sets up the extra PC in his streaming room. “And the guy working there knows you? That doesn’t bother you?”

Seungcheol laughs under his breath, “Yeah and he knows me now too. And knows I’d kick his ass if he tried anything.” You pout from your place in the expensive gaming chair; eyes focused on Jeongguk who shimmies under the desk to start plugging in the cables.

“Well, yeah he does know me, but he’s also one of my regulars and knows the schedules I’ll need, so I think we can trust him!” They both nod and Seungcheol is quick to cross the small room until he’s right behind you.

“He seems like a nice guy though, I don’t think we have to worry.”

Jeongguk slides out from underneath the desk, dusting off his pants as he stands. “And if he does end up being a weirdo, there’s always a place for you at the roller rink!”

Seungcheol rolls his eyes, hands gripping onto the backrest of the chair.

“No.”

“Hey guys, welcome back to Golden Closet Gaming! I’m JK, your regular host! Today, we have a suuuper special guest! Why don’t you introduce yourself, pretty lady~”

You take a deep breath as you lean in close to the mic; somewhat nervous and a little out of your usual element. “Hi everyone~ I’m Cherry! Some of you may know me from, um, the other side of the streaming-sphere but I’m joining my friend today in hopes of boosting our channels together and having a ‘lil bit of fun!!”

Seungcheol sits at the side as he watches the two of you; a small smile painted on his lips at the way the two of you seem to fall into your characters easily despite the somewhat different platforms and influx of different viewers.

The sound of donations and comments pour in a lot quicker than Jeongguk, himself, is used to; eyes wide and eyebrows raised as he pauses to watch them flood the screen.

sleepy_wonu has donated $100

xcaliburDK has donated $100

sleepy_wonu: never thought i’d be donating here but here we are

xcaliburDK: i was always a silent watcher but u kno i had to donate for my favorite girl!

seokGENIE: i feel like i’m entitled to something for taking your shift so i wont be donating, sorry pretty girl

j__min: can’t believe this kid got a collab with you before i did :(

j__min has donated $200

dtsug__a: i dont normally watch streams either but im curious

Jeongguk laughs, still in disbelief as the donations continue to pour in from a combination of your viewers and his. He always made a decent amount from his viewers but he couldn’t deny the pull you had from your viewers as well. “Wow, um okay, my donations are adding up a lot quicker than they usually do. That’s… Hey, whaddya say to streaming with me regularly?” He jokes. 

A shy laugh bubbles up your throat; ears and cheeks burning hot at the idea. You had never collabed with any other streamer before and despite your initial hesitance and unsureness, you too, were shocked to find how well the two of you were doing without your usual content.

“Erm, I’m not very good at gaming though… I don’t think your viewers would like it very much...”

seokGENIE: thats ok jk sucks at gaming too, it wouldnt be too different

j__min: lmao fkjdhf

dtsug__a: does he get roasted often on this channel? If so i’ll be tuning in more often

dtsug__a has donated $100

dtsug__a: for your troubles, pretty gal

“On second thought, let’s let this be a special occasion, huh? Maybe collabs for the holiday, Cherry?” Jeongguk grumbles and Seungcheol has to bite his lip to keep in his laughs from his side of the small room. You start to feel more and more comfortable at the lighthearted atmosphere; tucking a stray hair behind your ear before you lean in towards the mic again.

“Ah! Speaking of, don’t forget to tune into my camshow tomorrow~! JK and I will be gaming on there as well but… with some added fun to match my channel~! 21 and over only~” You blink at the computer screen, still a little unused to the idea that you weren’t technically being filmed. Although, it was a nice change for once; not needing to be all done up for a show and simply just talking to your viewers and reading comments.

sleepy_wonu: is dom daddy gonna be on the show too?

“Dom daddy? Oh you mean Se---”

“Yes! Kind of!” You cut off, laughing nervously. Nobody knew Seungcheol’s name except for Jun and you were trying to keep as much of him private as possible, until he was ready. “In a sense, he’ll be there! You guys will just have to tune in to find out!”

Jeongguk laughs into his own mic, scooting in closer to his desk as he loads up the game.

“I think that’s enough chatting for now, huh? Let’s get started! Tonight we’ll be playing Phasmophobia! We’ll be playing something more lighthearted on Cherry’s channel, as she requested. So tonight we’ll be playing something I picked out. You ready, baby?”

Seungcheol narrows his eyes, quietly taking a sip of his water.

“Ready when you are!”

“I gotta say, sweetheart, for someone who doesn’t play video games too often, you’re not too bad.” Seungcheol comments, nodding his head in amazement as the three of you exit Jeongguk’s PC room. He’d had a hard time keeping in his laughs as he watched from the side and he had to admit, you were even cuter when you were outside of your usual element.

“I have to agree with hyung, but maybe it was also the adrenaline and screaming that kept you goin’.”

The two males share a laugh as you pout and plop down onto Jeongguk’s living room sofa. “Hey, how were the numbers for tonight, by the way?” You ask quietly.

“Honestly? I think we made almost triple of what my channel usually sees. I know I don’t really make a ton off of my streams since I don’t really do anything, like, crazy but shit… Even I’m shocked at how much we made.”

Seungcheol’s lip ease into a smirk; Jeongguk really had no idea how much the two of you had made off of a couple videos alone.

“We still have one more stream to do and then we can just pool up the money and split it down the middle!”  

Jeongguk nods, stretching as he sits himself down onto the other end of the sofa. “I’ll bring my spare PC stuff so we can set up a little early tomorrow, if that’s cool with you two? Maybe have some food before we get started too ‘cause god knows I’m gonna be starving.” You look to Seungcheol who nods and checks his phone for the time.

“Yeah, we need to set up the cameras and lighting a little differently too so we’ll probably start earlier. Just text me before you drive over so we know when to expect you.”

You yawn next to Jeongguk; adrenaline having worn off as the tiredness finally sets in. “It’s so weird, usually I’m only just starting my stream right around this time but I’m so exhausted now...” Seungcheol’s eyes from cute crescents as he smiles down at you, stepping closer as he goes in to smooth down your hair.

“You really were screaming a lot, to be fair. How about we head home and you can sleep in the car?”

“Okay~”

Seungcheol lets you sleep in on Saturday morning, watching as your chest rises and falls with soft breaths.

He takes a moment to think over the last few weeks of his life and he can’t help the disbelieving expression that crosses his features when he realizes just how much had changed over the course of just weeks.

When the two of you had met, he wasn’t expecting much. He expected the two of you to hang out for a few days before you went home and forgot he even existed outside of your camshows and the comments section. But now that so much had happened between the two of you, Seungcheol felt a deeper connection to you and felt the need to protect you even moreso than ever.

He sees you shift slightly, sleepy eyes blinking open as you peer up at him. “Good morning, sweetheart.”

“Mm… g’morning ‘cheol…”

You grimace sleepily at how hoarse your voice sounds, “Ew, I sound so… gross.”

Seungcheol moves to get out of bed, leaning in to kiss your forehead before he shuffles towards the bathroom. “I’m going to wash up but you can stay in bed if you like. I’ll make you some tea for your throat, okay? We have a long day ahead of us and I don’t think you wanna sound like that later tonight.”

Nodding sleepily, you lay back down as you yawn and let the sleep take over once again.

“Are you really sure ‘bout this?” Jeongguk takes a bite of his pizza as he watches Seungcheol pull the desk closer to the bed.

“What do you mean?” You ask; readjusting the light that was closest to the younger male. “Like, I dunno, I’ve never been on a cam show like this so… I mean do I have to do anything different?” You laugh lightly as you go in to pat Jeongguk on the shoulder.

“No, just be you. And we went over it already earlier, the only thing that’s different is going to be me! No weird tricks or anything, I promise.”

Seungcheol places another monitor on the tabletop, grunting as he goes. “Yeah, and in all honesty, I would hate to have to watch you get off, ‘Guk.”

“Oh shut up, hyung. You say that like I don’t know what you’re packin’ under those sweats. I think it’d only be fair! Just two bros getting to know each other.” Seungcheol pretends to gag just as you double over in laughter. “No, absolutely not, ‘Guk. And also, nobody told you to watch those videos!”

Jeongguk pauses, lips pressing into a firm line. “You right, you right…”

You leave to get changed just as Jeongguk starts to help Seungcheol set up the last few bits of equipment. He leans in close to the older male, eyes glancing around the space to make sure you were completely out of earshot. “Hey, hyung, honest question.”

“Sure.”

“Are you really okay with all this?” Confusion crosses Seungcheol’s features as he raises an eyebrow at the younger male. “What’s ‘this’ exactly, ‘Guk?”

“Y’know, her living here and you camming all of a sudden, among everything else really… And the question if you’re in love with her which, by the way, we still all know that you are.”

A blush coats Seungcheol’s skin, fingertips almost losing grip of the camera he was about to mount to the desktop. “Listen, yes, okay, I do… like her a lot. But she’s going through a lot right now too and I don’t want to freak her out either. There’s a lot of life changes we’re going through so I’m just going to ...wait.”

“You’re a good man, hyung.”

“Hi everyone!”

You wave to the camera, winking and blowing a kiss to the camera propped up between the two monitors on the table. “I know, this setup is a little wild and not my normal but this is part two of my collaboration with Golden Closet Gaming! Do you want to introduce yourself to those who missed our other stream?” You turn to Jeongguk who nods; this time a little nervous as he stares directly into the camera.

He’d said he was okay with being filmed since he wasn’t actually part of any sexual acts, but he still found himself a little camerashy now that the two of you were live.

Seungcheol sat directly behind the monitors and cameras; his phone open to your cam show to watch from a different angle.

“Ah, hello! I’m JK of Golden Closet Gaming! I’m a friend of Cherry’s and no we won’t be fuckin’.” Jeongguk ends with an innocent smile that has you holding back your laughter.

therealchan99: i dont think dom.cheol would like that very much anyway

universe_WZ has donated $100

universe_WZ: unless he’s into watching

dom.cheol: no

alphagyu97: oh shit hes back

angelhan: huh, so hes not there?

“Oh, he is! He’s behind the camera~” You gesture beyond the camera to where Seungcheol sits and he leans over to quickly wave upside down in front of the camera to prove his existence.

j__min: ah, of course~ we know your daddy would never let you play with anyone else~

j__min: he likes you too much ;)

emerald.tae: oh? also hi new watcher!!!

emerald.tae: ur videos were great!!

emerald.tae has donated $200

therealchan99: im gonna need to start fighting ppl for ur attention i swear

gentleman_josh95: implying u had it

chwenon: yooooooo lmao

“You guuuuys, be nice! Just for that, I’m gonna be sending you a special private pic, okay ‘therealchan99’? You guys pick on him too much!” You pout.

therealchan99: hahaahhAHhhahaHAAHAA FUCKIN LOSERS SUCK ON THAT

tangerine_kwan: bruh

chwenon: damn guess we should can it

You respond to a few more comments as Jeongguk sits by and watches the way you interact with your viewers. He also takes note that you had a donation minimum before you started actually doing anything on your channel and that you’d already hit it pretty quickly.

“Okay! I think we should start now, huh? Oh, I should explain what’s going on!” You giggle cutely, settling into your space on the bed. “So JK and I will be playing this stilt man game! We have to get our character to the finish line without falling or the level restarts! JK has to get to level 30 and I have to get to level 20 and whoever reaches their goal first, wins!”

“I have a higher level to reach ‘cause our skillsets are different and we all know I’d smoke her if we both had to reach the same level.” Jeongguk grins.

seokGENIE: sure

seokGENIE has donated $69

sleepy_wonu has donated $100

hoshi_tiger_xx has donated $100

“And the reason why ‘dom.cheol’ is behind the camera is because...” You pause, eyes twinkling with playfulness as you stare directly into the lens. “In order to get me to do my best, he’ll be controlling a special toy I’m wearing~ Hehe, if my character falls, he’ll raise the vibration setting each time as punishment and leave it on until I cum…”

“Which we are assuming will be a lot. Unfortunately, no medic on standby.” Jeongguk jokes. Seungcheol rolls his eyes as he laughs from behind the camera.

“We have a safeword, don’t we, sweetheart?” You nod in response, “Mmhmm!”

“Let’s get it!”

It takes all of four stages before your character falls for the first time.

Seungcheol turns the vibrating panties on and you immediately jolt as you try to keep your character upright on screen. “Oh, f-fuck!”

kitty_junjun: uh ohhhh it begins

artist8hao: i don’t think she’s gonna last.. babygirl is so sensitive, she’ll probably cum soon

xcaliburDK: i’m giving it until level 6 before she cums

emerald.tae: oh are we placing bets

“Noooo~ Don’t place bets on me, I’m weak!” You whine; already squirming as the vibrations attack your clit. Seungcheol grins from in front of you as Jeongguk laughs from your side, already on level 7 on his own screen.

You had to admit, it was a little weird for someone else to be in the room with you while Seungcheol basically used a toy on you, but the younger male seemed to not care about it at all. Although, he had already seen most of you and Seungcheol at this point.

Your fingertips are shaky on the keyboard and computer mouse; already fearing the way Seungcheol’s eyes almost become darker the longer you struggle.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart? Is the game too hard?”

“A-ah, n--no, it’s not that b-bad…” Squirming, you grind down a little harder onto the bed just as your character falls on screen and Seungcheol raises the setting to the second highest in the blink of an eye. “Ngh, fuh---fuck!”

“Uh oh~ Should I slow down to let you catch up?” Jeongguk teases.

“N-no, I can beat y-you!”

The donations and comments pour in as you struggle to keep your calm and get your character to the finish line; letting out a sigh of relief as you finally enter the fifth level. You let out a choked sob as you already feel your panties starting to stick to you like a second skin from how wet you were getting and Seungcheol can’t help but chuckle.

“You know, you’re technically allowed to cum whenever you want. It’ll just… slow you down, is all.” Grinning, he watches as you look beyond the camera towards him as you pout.

“But I--I wanna win!” You cry; palms clammy as you try to rush through the fifth stage, only for your character to fall almost immediately. “Nooo~”

Seungcheol clicks the vibrator to its highest setting and your body goes rigid as the vibrations wreck your body. You start to grind against the toy as you chase your orgasm and forget about the game almost completely. In a perfect world, Seungcheol would have his cock snug between your walls, but instead you clench around emptiness as you crave his cock.

artist8hao: ah shes already cumming lol

seokGENIE: on level 5? Fuck

universe_WZ: her cute lil cunt cant take it, poor babygirl

seokGENIE has donated $50

emerald.tae has donated $75

alphagyu97: cum baby, u kno u wanna

alphagyu97 has donated $75

A small choked whine is all you can manage before you do cum; eyes clamped shut and fingers wrapped tight around the computer mouse as the waves of pleasure crash down onto your body. Donations and comments flood the side of the screen from a combination of your viewers and Jeongguk’s as they watch your face contort in pleasure.

“Ah, sweetheart, you’re really falling behind~ JK is going through the stages so quickly while you’re sitting there cumming~” Seungcheol teases. He licks his lips, simultaneously wishing you were sitting on his cock while you played your game.

That’d have to be for another time, he thinks.

It takes a second for Seungcheol to turn the toy off and your body immediately slumps forward as you catch your breath. “Ngh, d-damn it…” You grimace when you re-adjust yourself and find your panties soaking wet.

“I’m already on level 17, babe. You gotta catch up!”

You can only groan in response, flexing your clammy fingers before you try to focus on your own screen again.

kitty_junjun: oho looks like our princess is focused now

tangerine_kwan: u got this baby

j__min: show ‘em who’s boss, babygirl

You tune out the sounds of the comments and donations as you manage to get yourself to level eight without falling, but level nine proves to be just a little too hard as your character falls and Seungcheol turns the vibrator back on to its lowest setting again.

“Be careful, baby. Wouldn’t want to fall behind again would you?”

Seungcheol feels his cock throbbing in his sweats as he watches you bite your lip. And for the first time all night, he wishes that Jeongguk would just win and go home so that he could have his own private time with you.

“I’m on level 22 already. D’you think she can even catch up?” Jeongguk teases. He spares you a side glance, taking in your form slumped closer to the table as you try to fight the vibrations.

Your body was already extremely sensitive from your first orgasm and you quickly losing your confidence as you struggled to keep your character upright. If you came even just one more time, there was no way that you’d be able to beat Jeongguk with how quickly he was going through the stages.

therealchan99: she’s cumming just as quickly as JK is getting thru the stages hfdsf

gentleman_josh95: shes so cute when she cums tho

angelhan has donated $50

angelhan: thats the real prize angel

“T-thank you…” You whimper out, fingertips twitching against the keyboard and mouse as you focus your attention to the game to the best of your ability. 

You manage to get to level ten with no more issues just as Jeongguk gets to level 25 and you let out an exasperated sigh as your character falls over again. “Uh oh~ I think I’m gonna win!” Jeongguk cheers; giddiness washing over him as he works to get to the end. 

“Nooo~ That’s n-not, ah, fair!” Whining, you grip the mouse tighter as Seungcheol raises the setting on the toy again, watching as you rub your thighs together at the feeling. 

hoshi_tiger_xx: sadly nothings fair in the gaming world babe

hoshi_tiger_xx has donated $50

dtsug__a has donated $50

dtsug__a: cute for thinkin so tho 

“I don’t th--think I can, hah, c-catch up...” You moan. Your character on screen falls over one more time and all you hear is Seungcheol’s small ‘tsk’ under his breath as he sets the vibrator to the highest setting and leaves it there. 

It doesn’t take long before the vibrations prove to be too much for you and you let go of the keyboard and computer mouse as your hands ball up into fists on top of the table. 

The pleasure washes over you in sharp pin pricks; small whines and whimpers falling from your lips as your eyes completely clamp shut. 

Jeongguk lets out a surprised noise at the way the donations and comments almost make the screen lag and for the first time, his character on screen falls over at his split second loss of focus. 

“Ah, fuh--fuck!” You start to squirm once the pleasure starts to bleed into overstimulation and Seungcheol is quick to respond, “You’re gonna cum one more time as punishment for giving up, sweetheart.” 

alphagyu97: ooo she's in troubleeee

gentleman_josh95: ahhh daddy still has to punish you after all 

seokGENIE: damn is this what this channels abt? this is hot 

artist8hao: babygirl always misbehaves

chwenon: she seems to like it too much 😏

dtsug__a: hooooo shit, thats hot 

“It’s n-not my f-fault, hah, JK is j-just good at g-gaming...” You mumble. 

Jeongguk manages to get to level 30 within the time you sit and grind against the toy; small noises of excitement falling from his lips as he cheers for himself!

“Aww, poor baby. Maybe you’ll focus a bit better next time, hmm?” 

You nod frantically as a small tear slips down your cheek and your lips part in a breathy moan. “God, I--I’m c--cumming!” 

Your body locks up, ears ringing as you cum one more time. Seungcheol wishes he could work you through it; hands massaging your skin as you take your pleasure or thrusting his cock into you as he chased his high with you. 

Instead he watches from across you as your body twitches as your face contorts in unadulterated bliss, licking his lips the entire time with images of what could’ve been dancing behind his eyelids. 

Jeongguk watches as the donations far surpass what the two of you made on his channel; brows disappearing into his poofy head of hair. “Wow, uh, y’all seem to really like it when she gets punished, huh?” He mutters under his breath. 

“Don’t you?” Seungcheol teases. 

“Truuuuue.” 

A garbled moan has both of their attention on you as you try to shy away from the toy still vibrating against your overly sensitive clit. “Ah, ‘m too sen--sensitive now...” You cry. 

Seungcheol turns the toy off completely as your chest heaves in deep breaths; pouting at the fact he wasn’t able to enter the camera frame to take care of you. 

Jeongguk grimaces slightly at the way your body sways in tiredness next to him, unsure of what to do next now that he’d won. 

“Haha, um, medic?” 

[louiserandom]

Play Games with Me

Pairing: Senju Tobirama/Uchiha Madara | Rating: E

A/N: Commission for the amazing @rookie-d​💙💗 thank you so much! *hugs* 

Read on AO3 or continue under the cut :3 Ko-fi and fic commission info in the header!

Tobirama SenJERK has never had sex in his life, Madara types, as always brimming with spite when it comes to his least favorite person in town. Maybe on the planet.

Rereading the comment and satisfied that there aren’t any typos or any hint whatsoever at some kind of hidden affection (which isn’t there, never was and never will be, Madara reminds himself firmly), he hits ‘Comment.’

“Take that, you dumbass,” Madara mutters under his breath, and really, this could be classified as childish, were he not completely in the right to take vicious revenge upon the fucking asshole who dared refer to Madara as ‘so idiotic it’s pitifully adorable’ on his last stream. Hah! Like Tobirama isn’t the less intelligent one of the two of them; Madara has watched enough of his Uncharted 4 gameplay to note that Tobirama took twelve seconds longer than him to figure out arguably the most difficult puzzle in the game. And although Madara’s sub count doesn’t quite reflect his superior intellect compared to Senju’sーnot that he’s checked in a whileーit’s likely a testament to the viewers’ total lack of taste, if anything else.

(Two thousand, nine hundred and thirty four viewer’s, to be precise, according to this morning’s stats and minus the handful of Madara’s fake accounts that he created just in case to keep up with his chief competitor. Admittedly, it might be a tad annoying.)

A notification pipes up.

Hm, I wonder how you’d know that, MaddyGamerboy? Are you stalking me? I must admit, I’m flattered.

Madara sputters at the reply. At yet another butchering of his perfectly adequate nickname. The fucking nerve of the guyーand people fucking wonder why Madara hates his guts?

(Madara knows it doesn’t really help his case that he’s touched himself to fantasies of the younger Senju more times than he’d care to count, but hate-fucking a thing isn’t it? Hate-masturbation must be too, he supposes. Not the healthiest outlet for negative feelings, but it makes him feel good enough.)

(Heavenly, to be precise.)

I AM NOT, YOU SELF-OBSESSED DUMBASS, Madara types, simultaneously taking care of the half-a-dozen typos that appear of their own accord.

No.

Deep breath. Stop fingers from shaking. Think about something witty to say.

Pff, he writes, for lack of any better word to express his indignant huff, like I give a shit about you. You’re dumb.

It did sound much better in his head, but Madara has spent over a minute writing the comment already, and he doesn’t want to appear as if he’s thinking too hard on it.

He posts his answer, not dwelling too match on the number of likes on Tobirama’s comment far outnumbering the hundred Madara’s garnered. Again, Tobirama’s audience is clearly not the best judge of character.

“FUCK. YOU. SIDEWAYS, SENJU!” Madara shouts at the reply that follows, consisting only of the words:

Thanks for the sub btw.

“You fucking piece of shit,” Madara hisses. “Like eight fucking fake accounts do anything to boost your stats, I don’t even like all your videos from each one of them, you ass!”

I DID NOT SUB DONT BELIEVE HIM

I’m happy to have another loyal fan ;)

HE IS FUCKING LYEING!!!

With seemingly every single person in the comments raving about how it’s about time MadGamer69 and admitted he admires FlyingThunderGod’s skill, Madara has to consciously restrain himself from smashing his laptop against the wall.

“You can just tell him you like him, you know.”

Madara startles, almost stumbling to the floor when Hashirama returns with their drinks and quickly put-together snacks, always the one to rummage through Madara’s kitchen because Madara hardly cares what edible and inedible things existed there or what to do with themーthat’s Izuna’s job.

“I do not,” Madara snarls, as Hashirama flops next to him on the couch, “like that stupid clusterfuck you call a brother!”

“Madara!” Hashirama whines, with that ever-present pout on his face. “Be civil.”

“Yeah, when he returns the favor,” Madara glowers, grabbing a milkshake from Hashirama’s hand. “Did you forget that he fucking started it? Do I need to quote his “pitifully adorable how so much stupidity can fit in such a short man” again?” Madara can’t help flailing his arms a little, though far too conscious of this habit now since the Tobirama has started pointing it out. He makes up for it with what he hopes is a deadly enough glare. “Did no one in your family bother to teach him manners? Did you?”

Hashirama only sighs. “And did you forget,” he asks, “how before that you abused my invitation over to our place to hide his Golden Youtube Gamer Tablet?”

Madara groans. “It’s called a Gold Play Button. Idiot.”

“Now you’re insulting me,” Hashirama grumbles, “and who cares? The point is, you’d be upset too if he hid yours.”

“Youtubers care,” Madara says, “and also, that’s irrelevant, that was revenge for him making fun of my perfectly adequate gameplay.”

“To be fair, you were dying quite a lot in that playthrough...”

“He took twelve seconds longer to figure out that puzzle in the game!” Madara growls.

Hashirama rolls his eyes. “Well, of course, because that Yellow Flash guy was flirting and distracting him in the chat.”

Madara blanches. "That good-for-nothing pipsqueak was what?”

“See,” Hashirama drawls, “you are jealous. Why would you be jealous?”

“I-I’m not!”

“Madara, you are so far in denial, that as your best friend,” Hashirama says firmly, slapping a hand over Madara’s mouth before he can muster another protest, “I cannot stand by and watch you suffer. Anymore, that is, because this has reached a breaking point. So, please, for me, I am begging you, just try politely asking if maybe Tobirama would like to accompany you for coffee somewhere tomorrow? Maybe brunch? I mean, come on, I know you guys don’t hate each other anymore. Seriously, you guys seem like you enjoy arguments, and hey, who am I to judge how people express affection?”

“Affection?!” Madara shrieks, shoving Hashirama’s hand away.

“And please stop pretending you don’t have printed out screenshots of my brother’s videos hidden under your mattress because Izunaー”

“Is a fucking snooping rat!” Madara hisses.

Hashirama sighs. “If it helps you feel better, maybe Tobirama might possibly not feel extreme dislike towards you but actually the opposite,” he says, smiling nervously as Madara blanches.

Because... what?

He blinks, running Hashirama’s words through his mind again.

“And how would you know that?” he asks, suspicious. “I swear if you dared tell him anything about my possibly nonexistent feelingsー”

“Possibly?” Excitement starts bubbling in Hashirama’s eyes. “That’s progress!”

“Definitely nonexistent feelings, dammit!”

Hashirama, the asshole Madara calls best friend for some reason, giggles. “Don’t worry, I didn’t. I promise, stop glaring or I will start pouting,” he threatens, and Madara schools his expression back into a light scowl to avoid the infamous Senju pout.

Like a curse, memories of said pout curling Tobirama’s lips spring to mind, and Madara has to physically shake his head to banish those thoughts.

“Listen, the fact that we’re not as... aggressive as we used to be,” Madara says, “doesn’t mean we suddenly like each other.”

“Madara, you insist on coming along every time we hang out,” Hashirama points out.

“I like hanging out with you.”

“Yet every time we do,” Hashirama presses on, “you’re hyperfocused on bickering with Tobirama instead of talking about wholesome stuff with me. Did you even notice that I brought Mito with me the past few times and it was literally a double date?”

“Was not!” Madara shoves at Hashirama with his shoulder and stands up to pace, because there goes the tell-tale sweating of his hands, the fluttering in his chest and stomach and the memoriesーof him and Tobirama secretly filming the other on camera when they do stupid shit, their almost daily Best Playground Insult Contest that’s been memed half to death on Twitter, the one time they got separated from Hashirama and Izuna in Disneyland because they’d got caught in their arguments so much it devolved into discussing their favorite games and an actual conversation that had Madara’s insides tingling.

No.

No, no, no. If anything, they were just gradually becoming something not unlike friends. And Madara’s occasional fantasies behind closed doors were nothing but a means to a pleasant end.

Not. Feelings.

No matter how much he’s grown attached to the site of messy, white-gray hair that he knows is soft to the touch from all the times he’s tugged on it to irritate him. No matter how piercing Tobirama’s unique red eyes may look. No matter how objectively hot his recent workout routine video wasーand Madara knows he’d only watched it so many times because he wants to improve his own routine, right?

Right?

Madara groans. “Why are emotions so fucking confusing!” He slumps onto the floor and wraps his arms around his knees, hitting his head over and over again on his kneecaps because, “I don’t even know what I want from him, okay?”

There’s a brief silence before Hashirama joins him and keeps him from abusing his head further. “How about,” Hashirama suggests, rubbing a comforting hand on his back, “you just ask? Listen, he’s my brother. And you’re my best friend. You two fighting less and at least making an effort to get to know each other better?” Hashirama brings out the puppy dog eyes. “That would mean the world for me.”

Madara glances at him before looking away again, focusing on a random photo of the wall. One featuring Tobirama right after his university graduation with a wide smile on his face. Quite the adorable face, too, and the unprompted thought makes Madara want to descend into oblivion. Preferably forever.

“That’s difficult,” he says lamely.

“But not impossible,” Hashirama says, “and hey, it’s better than waiting for the Yellow Flash guy to actually make a move on Tobi and start occupying all of his time. He’s a really big fan.”

“Fuck Minato,” Madara scoffs, “the guy just showed up and is just shamelessly emulating Tobirama’s style. That’s dumb.”

“Dumber than you claim Tobi is?” Hashirama prompts.

Madara thinks about it. “You know what? Yes.”

“As I saidーprogress!”

Madara can never go through with his impulses to punch his well-meaning best friend, and so grabs the nearest pillow from the couch and smashes it into Hashirama’s face to shut him up.

Tobirama returns home only to find Hashirama and Madara standing by the front door, frowning as they watched something that sounded like a tsunami of some kind.

“Listen, it’s gotta be one of those black holes or something twisting that vortex. Look how stuff disappears right into it!” is his brother talking, and Tobirama is already heaving a frustrated sigh.

Please don’t tell me you think there’s a black hole on Earth.

“There’s no black holes on Earth, idiot! The nearest one is way off, like near Pluto or something,” Madara says.

Ah. Even better. Tobirama chuckles under his breath, crosses his arms and leans against the wall, observing the two idiots he knows and loves.

He mentally kicks himself.

Well, one of them, he loves. Of course he loves his brother.

The other is... complicated.

“And besides, that could just be the Loch Ness monster or a cthulhu or something. See how dark the water is?”

“Or maybe,” Tobirama says, making them both jump, “it’s a natural phenomenon that’s a tad too difficult for both your brain cells to comprehend? I’m happy to explain though.”

“I’m happy to see you fuck yourself,” Madara greets him his usual way, scowling despite the exceptionally conspicuous blush painting his cheeks.

The contrast never fails to make Tobirama’s heart beat faster. He hates himself for it.

“Mm, Madara,” Tobirama teases, “not in front of my brother.”

As expected, Madara starts spluttering, and Tobirama is left wondering again how he avoids making a total fool of himself in each and every one of his videos. It seems Madara saves most of his flailing for the comment section.

“You,” Madara snarls, pointing Tobirama’s way, “are an asshole, Senju, but spending time with the better part of society might do you some good. So see you at brunch tomorrow and do not be late.”

And with that, Madara gives Hashirama a cursory wave and stalks off, leaving Tobirama frozen on the spot.

Did Madara just?..

Tobirama blinks, swallowing heavily as he feels his throat running dry and his heart rate pick up.

No fucking way.

He must have imagined it. Through his stupor of trying to figure out what the hell just took place, Tobirama vaguely registers Hashirama’s facepalm.

“Sorry for that,” Tobirama hears his brother speak through the rush in his ears. “He meant, uh, will you please join him for brunch? Tomorrow at 11 am, Eggspectation?”

Tobirama blinks harder.

“I,” he starts, “I don’t... Did you blackmail Madara into asking me out?”

Hashirama looks scandalized. “What? No!”

“Did Madara just ask me out?”

“Well, yes, Tobi.” Hashirama chuckles nervously. “You sure you’re feeling okay?”

Tobirama glares. “The idiot’s wake up text to me today was literally a collection of trashy limerick poems about how much I suck. Sorry if I’m a little skeptical.”

“You,” Hashirama says, wincing as a long-suffering expression settles on his face, “you guys send wake up texts to each other?”

A moment of awkward silence hangs in the air.

“Sometimes,” Tobirama says, defensive, although the damage is already done.

“And you’re still not going out? Tobirama, you do realize he’s in love with you, right?”

“Don’t say things like that, Anija!” Tobirama snaps, hoping the dim lighting in the corridor conceals the blush he can feel heating up his cheeks. Fuck. Now he’s turning Madara. “Yet, I mean.”

“I’ll save the celebrations until after your date then!” Hashirama sing-songs like the idiot he is.

Tobirama resigns to his fate. “I hate you.”

“You love me.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“You’ll thank me for this.”

“If it goes well,” Tobirama glowers though it’s ineffective, really, against his brother’s bubbling positivity, and the sheer awe still coursing through him from Madara asking him out on a fucking date is actually enough to make Tobirama want to hug him. He refrains. "Now, thanks, Anija, but I have work things to attend to.”

“Sure! Just don’t forget, 11ー”

“Eleven eggs and uh, no expectations, got it.”

“Wait, Tobi, noー”

With no time to waste, naturally, Tobirama bolts into their apartment and straight to his room to choose an appropriate outfit. And to mentally prepare himself for something he’s almost given up hoping for.

Tobirama cannotーwill notーmess this up.

Tobirama makes sure to arrive about ten minutes early. Not because he’s worried or nervous, of course; maybe just a little, but mostly just to get his bearings beforeーfinallyーa date with Madara goddamn Uchiha.

Madara, who’s been Tobirama’s stupid crush since high school, and just as in love with gaming as he is, only that didn’t turn out to be such a great bonding point between them, as Tobirama had hopedーbefore he actually got to know his Anija’s best friend.

Madara, who seemed to dislike Tobirama at first sight and only grew to hate him more over the years as they both found more joy in arguing than they did in talking.

Madara, who, despite this, blushes every rare time Tobirama genuinely smiles at him or drops a suggestive joke, who has an arguably unhealthy obsession with Tobirama’s ass which he always ogles when he thinks no one is looking.

Madara, whose plastered ass Tobirama had to drag home the other week, amid drunken speeches about capitalist injustice, some wacky conspiracy behind the disappearance of the dodo bird and... something quite interesting.

 “Listen, Senju,” Madara was slurring against Tobirama’s shoulder, as the latter cursed every single nonexistent god that Hashirama had chosen that fucking day to go on a road trip with Mito, Toka and Izuna, leaving Tobirama in charge of this walking trash fire of a man. “Listen. Tobira... Tobi. Tobirama. You’re so hot.”

The words almost made Tobirama stumble.

“What, Uchiha?”

“And cute... So pretty, too, I wish you could see that...” Madara went on babbling. “I think you do. But still. Wish you could see me like I do. I mean see you. Like I do...”

“Tobira, you’re just, you’re unfair...”

“I hate you and I like you then I love you and I hate you again, why you’reー” A hiccup. “How do you exist...”

“I just want to hold hands and just... walk and talk and be together and...”

Tobirama watched in ever mounting confusion as Madara leaned completely into him, humming as he hugged Tobirama tightly and said,

“Is that too fucking much to ask...”

Tobirama stood, shell-shocked, with Madara whispering impossible nonsense in his arms, wondering if he was in a dream.

 The next day saw Madara returning to his usual self insulting Tobirama at every goddamn opportunity, which left Tobirama... confused.

Confused, and conflicted, and sleepless for the rest of the night, thoughts held captive by the utter idiot whose ultimate goal seems to be to ruin Tobirama’s life.

It’s maddening.

Of course, he’d suspected that Madara’s flailing and constant blushing interspersed with screams and insults (the most creative ones, reserved only for Tobirama, it seemed) were signs of not so much dislike, as the complete opposite. Of course, Tobirama had tried flirting with Madara, just bordering right there on the edge of suggestive, only for his advances to be seen as patronizing or condescending. And hearing Madara speak to him this way, in a drunken stupor no less, when he’d probably have no causeーor abilityーto lie is...

Maddening. Annoying. Exhilarating. A tantalizing opportunity. Maybe a glimmer of hope.

And of course, Tobirama told his brother; they never really had any secrets between them. And of fucking course Hashirama had a hand in convincing Madara to change his usual behavior, which is nice and all, but doesn’t help the nerves wracking through Tobirama’s body, nor the crippling fear that he’s going to somehow screw this up.

But no. Deep breath. Exhale. And remember Anija’s advice.

Tobirama takes the last turn before he’s faced with their meeting place, surprised to find Madara already there.

Even though he’s usually always late. Sitting inside by the window, looking out onto the street with a slight frown, Madara keeps worrying his bottom lip and, apparently, trying to break a spoon.

It paints an endearing picture. Tobirama sighs, feeling a smile tugging at his lips.

This man...

Tobirama comes in, approaching him slowly, allowing himself a few moments to watch Madara needlessly fix his wild mane of hair, appraise his reflection in the spoon, try out several fake-looking smiles before settling on a scowl and going back to his nervous tics again. With another sigh, Tobirama takes the few steps left to his date, repeating Hashirama’s advice over and over in his head.

Just be yourselfーand have fun!

Just a few minutes into their date, it becomes obvious that Madara didn’t get the same advice from Hashirama.

Or just didn’t get the advice, period.

With their orders made and beverages served, they’re left to wallow in a less than comfortable silence, broken only by Madara’s... uncharacteristic attempts at conversation.

“Are you enjoying the tea?” Madara asks Tobirama with all of the softness of a brick wall.

Tobirama isn’t used to the man being eloquent, much less polite, and he has yet to have at least one conversation with Madara that doesn’t devolve into a pissing contest. So theoretically, Tobirama should be enjoying this.

But it only seems wrong. Annoying. Not them.

He tries to recall if, maybe, their first meeting was an adequate exchange? Tobirama thinks to the day Hashirama first introduced them. Only flashes of spilled milkshakes and jibes at intelligence run through his mind, and of course that was the very first time he’d called Madara an idiot pipsqueak, receiving quite the lame ‘stuck-up dandelion’ in turn.

Unsurprising.

“Yes,” Tobirama says, taking another sip as he eyes Madara struggling on the other side of the table. Struggling to do what is the question: either sit straight, or assume a more relaxed posture, or reach towards his own drink, or avoid eye contact, even though he keeps glancing his way when he thinks Tobirama won’t notice. Tobirama does, every time, and that just makes the whole ordeal more awkward. “Nice weather,” Tobirama says, with about as much enthusiasm.

If Madara wants to play this stupid game, Tobirama will indulge. Just to see how long it takes for Madara to break and return to his blustering status quo.

“Yeah...” Madara clears his throat, eye twitching as he manages to hold Tobirama’s gaze for a commendable three seconds this time. “Hate the sun. I meanーI mean I love the sun. Ugh. It just, uh. Burns.”

It’s both saddening and funny to see Madara visibly deflate.

“Skin too sensitive, huh?” Tobirama starts small. “Just like your ego?”

Madara’s jaw clenches and his nervous look shifts into a glare before he looks away again, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath to calm himself down before he flashes an unnaturally cheery smile.

“Heh, nice,” Madara grits through his teeth, “nice joke, Senju.”

Tobirama raises his eyebrow as Madara flinches at his own words.

“I’m glad you appreciate my sense of humor,” Tobirama says, barely reining in a smirk.

“Sure! You’reーyou’re funny.”

“And?”

“And what?” Madara frowns, confused.

“And what else am I?” Tobirama demands, feigning thoughtfulness. “A recent assessment of yours was that I look and act like a self-obsessed dumbass, I think.”

“No-no,” Madara blurts out, looking much a cornered animal, “I think you... you are... you look not at all so terrible today?” he finishes with a nervous chuckle, running a hand through his hair.

Tobirama wants to scream from the agony.

No. This won’t do, otherwise he might as well leave.

“Can you just call me a stuck-up asshole like you always do or recite one of those horrible limerick disses?” he demands.

Madara actually yelps. “What? No! I mean, wait.” He narrows his eyes. “Why?”

“Because you’re acting weird.”

“We’re on a date, if you were too stupーpreoccupied to get my invitation, Senju,” Madara says, jaw still clenched as he doubtless refrains from swearing, “and I’m being civil!”

That’s the advice he must have gotten from Anija, Tobirama thinks.

What a tragedy.

“Madara,” Tobirama implores, leaning his eyebrows on the table and meeting Uchiha’s gaze, “have you considered thatーI prefer it when you aren’t?”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, thank fuck!” Madara slams his hands on the table, heaving a massive sigh as Tobirama laughs in relief. “I was ready to fucking die, you piece of shit! How does your brother stay so fucking kind all the time, it’s fucking torture!”

Tobirama rolls his eyes. “It’s a talent, naturally. Just like your talent at embarrassing yourself and mine at being awesome.”

“You’ve got it a little backwards, Senju,” Madara sneers, “but it’s excusable, given your level of intellect.”

“Twice as high as yours?” Tobirama parries.

“Twice as little.”

“That’s more like it,” Tobirama says, grinning despite himself, “I thought you were a decoy or something. You’ve told me to fuck off every single day since we first met and this was getting worrisome.”

Madara’s laugh is sudden, melodic, sending those irritating tingling sensations through Tobirama’s body. He makes an effort to appear outwardly calm.

“Maybe because you managed to piss me the fuck off every day that I’ve known you,” Madara scoffs, “but you’re all right sometimes. I guess.” He shrugs, feigning nonchalance even as he keeps nervously fixing and running his fingers through his hair.

A stupid, tantalizing habit. Tobirama imagines carding his own hands through the messy locks, tugging Madara’s head back toー

He forcefully aborts the thought process before he’s faced with a problem of the harder kind. “Oh, I’m sure we’ll try to strangle each other when we game together.”

“We’re playing today?” Madara asks.

Tobirama tilts his head to the side.

“You haven’t planned one gaming session after our date?”

“Um,” Madara says, blinking rapidly, “why should I be the one with the plan?”

“Because you’re the one who invited me,” Tobirama deadpans. And anyway, Madara is always the one to egg Tobirama on to gaming, which would usually only ever lead to semi-playful brawls and their fighting making Hashirama cry.

And without Anija there to assault them with his antics, Tobirama wonders what their play-fighting might lead to... and promptly shuts off those thoughts again. Control, dammit.

Madara opens his mouth, then closes it, sighs explosively and says, “All right, fair enough. But you’re the strategy pro here. And my thing is RPGs.” He smirks. “I can improvise.”

And Madara does, in fact, improvise, leading Tobirama on what he hopes is a satisfying daylong adventure. It’s strange, walking by themselves around Konoha without anyone else with them (not that they’ve taken to ignoring Hashirama and Mito anyway on their most recent group outings), free to talk about and do anything they want. Strange and perfect, the way Tobirama switches between poorly concealed bashfulness and his usual confidence, as their jokes and jibes at each other, every little prank they pull never fails to make them both laugh.

It’s perfect.

Just like Tobirama’s smile is, directed at him without any pretenses as they set off to explore the lush, gigantic forest surrounding the city, rumored to be home to mythical, many-tailed creatures. And that’s followed by their forays into an abandoned chemistry lab; the scares they get in the woods from intermittent growls coming from the shadows are nothing compared to the horror Madara feels when Tobirama insists on touching broken vials and experimental equipment, and going through doors with dilapidated ‘DANGER. CHEMICAL HAZARD’ signs.

“If we’re infected by some deadly and insidious poison,” Madara whispers as they explore the lab’s tunnels, “I’m going to fucking kill you before it does. Painfully.”

“It’s for science,” Tobirama says. “And trust me. We’re safe. I got a degree in this.”

“Youtube is practically your full-time job at this point. What the fuck else do you need?”

“The satisfaction of discovering something cool?”

“And deadly.”

"Unlikely.”

Madara groans, cursing his life, as well as his inability to say no to hisーapparentlyーnew boyfriend.

The boyfriend who’s just discovered another hidden pathway to a deeper level and has scurried off towards it like an excited five-year-old. Despite himself, despite his intent to keep complaining, Madara can’t hold back the grin tugging at his lips.

Still perfect.

Just like their lunch date which turns into a picnic by the Naka river, where Madara remembers meeting Hashirama way back when. Just like the first time Tobirama grasps his hand, fingers gently massaging it as he laughs at Madara stuttering to a stop from whatever rant he’d been on, heart in his throat and mind suddenly focused on whether his palms are too sweaty or not.

His mind goes blank. Eyes focus only on the man in front of him, whom he yearns to strangle just as often as he craves to tackle him onto any surface and ruin him completely. And it should feel wrong, it should be, only Madara hasn’t quite felt so right about anything in a long time, and with every minute they spend with their familiar bickering, just with a layer of something more behind it this time, it becomes harder and harder to deny how good being near Tobirama makes him feel. Happy. Complete.

Madara winces. Oh, gods. He’s waxing poetic now.

All worries about that fly out the window when Tobirama, without so much as a word of warning, leans in and draws Madara by his collar into a kiss.

Surprisingly, he doesn’t spring up to awaken alone in his bed like he always does, after dreams like these.

And, unsurprisingly, it turns out to be Madara’s best kiss to date.

Maybe he’s exaggerating, if just because he’s been craving this so damn much. Tobirama’s lips are hot, gentle, and welcoming against his, a curious tongue darting out to coax Madara’s lips open and deepen the kiss. The delightful drag of his tongue, his hands, rough and demanding on Madara’s chest, waist, thighsーit’s not long before he’s dizzy with it, barely holding back moans of pleasure for fear of sounding too desperate.

“Fuck,” Madara gasps as they pull away for breath, lips still touching as their eyes stay locked and he’s treated to Tobirama’s downright ravenous gaze. “That wasー”

Tobirama cuts him off with another kiss, then another, and it’s not long before they find themselves tangled in a mess of limbs and loose clothing. The hard ground presses against Madara’s back as Tobirama settles on top of him, ravaging Madara’s mouth with a passion that soon has his pants feeling too tight.

Fuck.

He groans, hips thrusting of their own accord and feeling Tobirama's own erection through the fabric.

Madara makes an immense effort to pull away, stifling a whine at the loss of contact.

“Bed,” he says, mortified at his own crudeness far too late after the word comes out. “Fuck, I meantー”

“Yes,” Tobirama growls, capturing Madara’s lips in another open-mouthed kiss before he hauls him up to start gathering their things. “Your place or mine?”

“Yours? Izuna,” Madara rasps, head too clouded to explain more in-depth, but Tobirama seems to understand.

“Anija shouldn’t be back for a while,” Tobirama says, a devastating grin on his face, “lots of time for us to play.”

Gods.

Madara scrambles to his feet fast enough to stumble, and for once, Tobirama has nothing to say about his clumsiness.

They all but crash through the front door, not even bothering to lock it as they rush through a cursory check to make sure Hashirama is out like he said he’d be.

“Fuck, thank the gods,” Tobirama sighs in relief before dragging Madara back into liplock.

Madara can’t hold back a moan this time, heat ratcheting up between them as he wraps his hands around Tobirama’s neck, pulling him closer as they stumble to the couch. Madara ends up straddling him just so that their cocks brush through too-rough clothing, kiss growing urgent and sloppy, as wandering hands touching every inch of uncovered skin.

Clothes fall away, leaving them both shirtless, and Madara needs a few moments to take in the miles of pale skin, so soft to the touch, toned muscles rippling as Tobirama squirms under him, gasps and groans escaping his lips in answer to every one of Madara’s touches. He leans in to mouth Tobirama’s neck, sucking bruising kisses onto the soft skin there pleasure flaring at the base of his stomach each time Tobirama moans and arches against him.

“You’re so sensitive,” Madara whispers, with a hint of incredulity. “That’s... fuck.”

“Yeah,” Tobirama rasps, eyes unfocused, “because... just get on with it.”

“If I knew this is what it took to finally get you to shut up,” Madara chuckles, “I would have tried this a long time ago.”

If he weren’t so sure Tobirama genuinely despised him. Butー

“I fucking wished you would!” Tobirama snaps, though the irritation rings hollow with the breathless tone.

Madara blinks in shock.

“You did?” Madara asks, moving lower to lap at Tobirama’s nipple, sucking the hardened nub into his mouth and eliciting another delicious whimper. “You thought about this? About my hands on you, touching you?”

“Yes!” The desperation in his tone only adds to Madara’s mounting confidence, one that he so rarely ever feels in Tobirama’s presence.

“My mouth on your cock,” he continues, heart hammering against his ribs as he trails kisses lower and lower, “would you like that? While I finger you, getting you ready to take me?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” Tobirama’s hips jerk, making them both moan at the friction.

“Off,” Madara grunts, tugging at Tobirama’s pants with one hand as the other works the belt off his own. They scramble, a bit awkwardly, until they’re both naked and sprawled on top of each other, and Madara all but drools at the sight of Tobirama’s cock, hard and straining, beads of precum already leaking from the tip.

Perfect.

It’s tempting to just let go but Madara decides to take his time. Strokes Tobirama’s sides and chest, fingers his nipples, kisses every inch of skin he can reach, sucking bruises and biting slightly. He marvels at every little keen and groan he wrings from Tobirama, relishing how needy he grows with each second, how he moans Madara’s name, curses him and urges Madara to touch him, sliding his dick against his and huffing when Madara doesn’t do anything about it, before finally devolving into pleading.

Just what Madara’s been waiting for.

“Madara, please,” Tobirama’s whines, a soft, desperate sound that makes Madara groan in turn.

“Please what?” he asks, knowing he’s being a tease and enjoying the hell out of it.

Tobirama musters a pretty non-intimidating glare. “Just... fuck.”

“Tell me.”

“Fuck you.”

“Is that what you want?” Madara raises an eyebrow, making sure to wet his lips, letting his tongue gently graze the head of Tobirama’s cock. “I can bottom. I don’t mind.”

“Fuck!” Tobirama squeezes his eyes shut, heavy breathing interspersed with desperate whines. “Just... suck me off. Please. Now.”

“That’s it, Tobirama,” Madara drags out the syllables of his name, a smirk tugging at his lips, “when you ask so nicely, how can I refuse?”

He wraps his lipsーfinallyーaround the head, licking at the salty fluid gathered there, ears ringing from the heady feel of Tobirama’s cock against his mouth, his hands tangling in Madara’s hair, the sounds slipping from Tobirama’s lips that are borderline fucking obscene. Madara takes a breath to brace himself and takes Tobirama a few inches deeper. His length is hot, stiff, and heavy in his mouth as Madara presses the flat of his tongue against the underside, sucking hard, wringing another delectable whimper. Tobirama’s thrusts up, cock hitting the back of his throat, and Madara chokes for a moment, his own dick jerking at the sensation.

“Madara,” Tobirama breathes, “Madara, gods, you feel amazing.”

The words send another rush of pleasure through him, and Madara takes himself in hand to release some of the unbearable tension, stroking himself slowly as he relaxes his throat and sinks down to take Tobirama to the base.

Tobirama’s moan is a sweet, drawn-out melody. One that Madara enjoys making louder and louder as he starts moving, setting a fast-paced rhythm, uncaring for how debauched he may look, drool leaking out of his mouth and coating Tobirama’s cock, throat constricting around it as he takes him deep, lets him stay there, tongue gliding along his shaft. Tobirama soon devolves into barely coherent pleading, until ‘please’, and ‘more’, and Madara’s name are the only words coming out of his mouth.

It’s intoxicating. Overwhelming, far too much. Madara gives up stroking himself, the pleasure ramping up far too quickly, too soon, though Tobirama isn’t doing much better. Madara draws his lips up along his length, lapping up more precum gathered at the head, even as Tobirama’s hips jerk again and the hand in Madara’s hair tightens, urging him back down.

“Madara, please,” Tobirama keens, “I need...”

Madara has a pretty good idea of what he needs. He swirls his tongue over the head, descending again until his nose is pressed against Tobirama’s stomach. Madara swallows around him once, twice, a third time before he feels Tobirama nudging at his shoulder in a warning he doesn’t pay heed to, starting to bob his head again, wrapping his fingers around the base of Tobirama’s cock, using both his mouth and hand to bring him to completion.

“Fuck, Madara, Iー”

Madara lets out a muffled groan once he feels cum spilling against his tongue, swallowing rapidly as Tobirama’s cock pulses, again and again, through an orgasm that has him writhing and and trembling underneath him, hands tightening in Madara’s hair enough to hurt with the kind of tantalizing pain that only adds to the pleasure.

“You feel so fucking good,” Tobirama pants, watching Madara through white lashes, eyes dark and hazy as another shudder runs through him, “fuckーI want...”

Madara releases him with a wet pop. “Want what, Tobirama?” he whispers, voice too hoarse for him to speak properly.

Tobirama grips his shoulders in lieu of an answer, directing Madara to turn around so his back is pressed against his chest.

Then Tobirama’s hand wraps around his cock andーoh.

Madara has pretty much forgotten about his own pleasure, too focused on not coming too soon and making sure Tobirama was enjoying himself.

“My turn,” Tobirama murmurs against his ear, tone still breathless but with a commanding edge to it now that makes Madara shiver, “and lemmeーlet me hear you, Madara.”

Gods. He groans just from the sound of Tobirama’s voice. The feel of his teeth nibbling at his earlobe, his hand setting a quick, harsh rhythm that builds up the pleasure to impossible degrees. Tobirama’s heated skin pressed against his back, his thighs, the fingers of his other hand carding through his hair with a gentleness that contrasts with his harshness before.

It’s too much.

“Go on, Madara.”

Tobirama’s fingers swiping at the precome gathering at the head of Madara’s cock, smearing it over his shaft. His voice, a muffled whisper coaxing Madara to let go, to come for him, to say Tobirama’s nameー

“Just like that, Madara,” Tobirama grunts, “louder for me, come on.”

Madara thrusts into his grip, all but fucking into Tobirama’s fist at this point, moans his name as the heat grows unbearable the closer he gets to release.

“To-bi-rama...” He comes with a broken groan slipping from his lips as cum spills all over his stomach and Tobirama’s hand, each pulse coming stronger than the last, leaving him dizzy and boneless in Tobirama’s arms for however long it takes for his orgasm to abate.

Feels like forever. Probably a lot less. Time does seem to slow down, though, both of them collapsing against each other onto the cushions, breathing raggedly and curling into each other as Madara turns to bury his head in the crook of Tobirama’s neck.

It still seems unreal. Too perfect. So right.

They lie there for a minutes, coming down from the high, limbs tangled and lazy kisses exchanged here and there. Tobirama looks so peaceful, like Madara’s never seen him before: eyes half-lidded, hair messier than ever, sticking in every direction, skin still flushed and marked, all over, with hickeys and teeth marks, the mere sight of which has Madara’s dick stirring in interest, recent orgasm or no.

“You know,” Madara says, hands running over Tobirama’s chest, barely grazing his still sensitive nipples and making him shiver, “if this is the game you want to play, I’m really not against binging it. The rest of the dayーweekend, if you want.” Madara presses a kiss to Tobirama’s neck. “Make the playthrough as thorough as possible.” To his collarbone. “Unlock all achievements and, uh,” Madara trails his hand along Tobirama’s chest to his groin, past his length and to his ass, "explore every location.”

“If that was some thinly veiled euphemism,” Tobirama says, barely holding in laughter, “for you wanting to fuck me sideways...” Madara holds Tobirama’s gaze as his fingers hover just over Tobirama’s hole. “Then Madara, for fuck’s sake, stop trying to be subtle and get to work.”

Madara barks out a laugh.

“Whatever you say, Tobirama.”

Madara dips his voice low and deep, like he’s noticed Tobirama loves, and relishes the whimper it earns him. Relishes the way Tobirama arches against him, looking for friction, how delectable he looks, ready and responsive, so eager for Madara’s touch.

He knows then and there that if it’s up to him, Madara will do anything to make this last.

[artificialqueens]

Different Names For the Same Thing, Chapter Four (Trixya) - Pilandok

Getting drunk on ten cocktails is Trixie’s idea of facing the problem head on.

AN: Hi, thank you for reading! Katya is using female pronouns this chapter since she’s in drag.

Read in AO3 (also, for extra notes.) Read from Chapter One.

            Trixie is here because he wants a drink and what other place in the world would never leave her with an empty glass other than a gay bar on a drag night? In fact, as soon as he steps through the back door, one of the local queens screams his name and hands him her own drink. Trixie graciously accepts it, fully enveloping this queen he didn’t know into an embrace. Who’s acting grand now?

He sits on the battered sofa that seems to be in the back of every bar he’s ever performed at, complete with a ripped out corner and a slight incline because of its uneven footing— he knows exactly how to make himself comfortable in it. The queen that greeted him sits beside him, talking animatedly. She has a million pounds  of make-up on and a name that references something he doesn’t understand. Trixie can’t imagine how a would look like as a boy. He’s not the one to talk though, so he leans in closer than she probably expected him to and when he smiles like she’s the most entertaining person he’s ever met, he shows off his veneered teeth.

            The music from the stage echoes as a faded bass line on the walls of the room. He recognizes it, a Top 40 song from about two decades ago but he knows he won’t understand the words— Katya once told him that with his abysmal French, he has zero chance of learning Russian. (Sweet gesture, though, Katya said. Trixie was obviously joking.)

            Trixie is here because she can be— because in almost every gig, they tell the promoter that the other Brian might show up. Even when it was physically impossible for them to be. Still, there’s always that proverbial seat saved for the other. As soon as she walks in, give Katya a cigarette, Trixie would tell them. For him, a drink. This bar came through and now Trixie’s on his third glass of a random alcohol mix (his ninth if you count what he drank in the other bar before he mustered up the courage to go here, and his tenth if you count the one he had in the hotel.)

            Trixie is here because Katya expected him to be, two weeks ago. Trixie said he could watch her, he’s playing the venue three days later. He should be able to make it before her set and that she would expect him here. But judging from Katya’s reaction when she spots him on the couch with the other queen’s legs resting on his lap, it looks like neither of those things are true anymore.

            Trixie is here not because Katya has decided to stop making out with him nine days ago.

            “Trixie,” Katya calls, a full mouth smile as if she’s excited to see him but he can see the confusion in her eyes, the slight tilt of her head. “You’re here.”

            “We gave her drinks just like you told us to,” says the older drag queen that entered with Katya, probably the host of the show, “but it looked like she already had a few before us…”

            The tone of her voice, Trixie imagines, is trying to suggest something. He recognizes a tongue that’s looking for drama and with his relationship with Katya so publicly ambiguous, he all but expects this to happen. He doesn’t give a shit anymore, honestly. They’re praying for my downfall, he thinks, then laughs to himself.

            Katya’s smile barely falters but Trixie sees it. He watches her turn to the older queen and they converse in low voices that is easily drowned out by the music. He wants to tell them that he knows they’re talking about him. Instead, he focuses on the drag queen sitting on the other side of the couch whose legs are sprawled in his lap, he leans in as if he’s going to tell her something but he just flashes a lazy smile at him which she returns, equally buzzed. She’s about five years younger than him, easily excitable and eager to please.

            “Trix, honey. Hi.” Katya kneels on the rug in front of him, ignoring the pair of legs strewn over Trixie. “I have to do my second set. Wait for me, okay? I’ll take you back to the hotel. ”

            He expected as much, that his thinly-veiled attempt at making Katya jealous wouldn’t phase her so he moves his head into what he perceives to be a nod. Katya stares at him for a second and he could see that she needs to retouch her make-up. It’s kind of a hot, sweaty mess at the moment but in the way that everyone likes, with her hair sticking to her face and her lips slightly smudged. It takes a few numbers for Katya to be in her most flexible and sensual self. That’s when a strong, complicated, feminine energy exudes itself from Katya. None of these things he would have noticed before— before Katya made a mission out of making out with him every chance she got (or was it Trixie letting him?)— now the sight of it brings a stirring between his legs. Is he even gay anymore?

            “Cut her off,” Katya orders the young drag queen.

            A few moments after she leaves, they hear the explosion from the crowd.

            Trixie lifts his drink to take a sip and the young queen makes a halfhearted motion to stop him. Trixie laughs, he knows that preventing people from drinking goes against the hard-wiring of a drag queen. When he raises his glass at her, giving her a mischievous wink, she can’t help but toast hers.

            “Jesus Christ, you’re heavy,” Katya tells him.

            “It’s muscle mass,” Trixie slurred “I’ve been working out, bitch.” He tries to flex his bicep but his arm is slung around Katya’s neck who was keeping him stable on the curb as they wait for the Uber.

            “Sure, hon,” Katya mumbles distractedly, preoccupied with tracking the car on the app.

            It’s not lost on him that Katya didn’t take her things from the club, that she’s standing empty handed beside him. He realizes that “bringing you home” meant sending him off in an Uber and leaving him to the hotel staff. It seems that Katya fully intends to continue her cold streak, barely acknowledging Trixie since that day in her apartment. What did Trixie do wrong this time? Why does she get to act this way? Before it was because he cared too much and didn’t let her kiss him. Now is it because he lets her kiss him and he doesn’t care enough? Damned if I do—

“Katya, you— Kat,” Trixie starts, because what’s the point of getting wasted if you’re not going to let the words vomit out of your mouth? Katya looks at him like he’s expecting a train-wreck. “You don’t have to remember, Brian. It’s fine, you dont have to tell me— You don’t have to be anyone. You don’t have to be him. I don’t care.” Katya looks at him, exasperated, like he doesn’t know what he’s doing. Whatever, Trixie knows he’s not a fun drunk. “I know you know what I’m talking about.”

            At this, Katya purses her lips into a hard line.

            “But you do care,” Katya says in a whisper.

            “Fine, if I do, then I do. But just because I care doesn’t mean it matters, Kat. It hasn’t mattered in fifteen years. No matter how much I wanted it to. It still doesn’t matter now. Nothing has to change.” Trixie has an idea of what he looks like to Katya, he’s always been a pathetic drunk, Kim would never let him forget that. Even sober, his mouth is always faster than his brain— all the fucking trouble that caused for him. “Katya— Brian just— don’t disappear on me again.”

            It’s too much for Katya, he knows that, he can see the wheels turning in hehr head. He wants to do something about it but freshly digested alcohol is clouding his brain, probably the ones from the queen.

            “Trixie,” she starts, her arm faltering on his waist. Katya doesn’t sound like she was going to say anything more, just saying his name for the sake of it, to test it out on her tongue. But it’s the most sure she’s ever sounded in weeks. Trixie can’t help but feel his heart climb up his chest, he can hear his pulse in his ears and the dizzying spell of the beat. He wants to swallow it down, the feeling rising in his throat, but it’s impossible. “Brian I—“

            He stops Katya with a retching noise. He lurches forward, slipping his arm off of her neck, and heaves. He empties out the content of his stomach, the sound of him throwing up echoing on the empty street.

            He’s always been a terrible interrupter.

             Those are my feelings, he thinks, watching the sickly colored liquid flow into the gutter.

             It’s the last thing he remembers from that night.

            Trixie dreams of the world in Katya’s head.

            The artist’s kisses drive him crazy— verrückt. That must be it, why else would he be watching him right now? He’s never met a man so… obscene. He kisses all his models, especially after they’ve opened their legs for him. Not for sex, no, but maybe something more intimate. He watches him kneel in front of the bed, staring intently at the genetalia that has been spread before him. He sees the furious sketches on his pad.

            “Nicht fickstück,” the artist had told him, Russian accent heavy, and he blushed at the vulgarity.

            It’s only his turn when it’s late at night and everyone has left. The name he gave was Byron and the artist had laughed at this. It doesn’t suit him at all and he can’t quite pronounce it right, but the artist never asked for the truth. He only replied, “dann bin ich Katya.”

            Byron doesn’t take off his clothes, he is never asked to, only his jacket so he can roll up his sleeves. He sits on the piano waiting at the other side of the room. It’s damaged but it’s still better than anything he’s ever owned. The fact that he can play this late at night without anyone coming up to complain tells him the character of the place and the kind of residents there are in this building.

            For Katya, he plays the pieces he learned in the academy— he doesn’t let him listen to any of his compositions. In turn, Katya never shows him what he’s painting while he watches him play.

            But he does love Katya’s self portraits.

            “Ich habe so etwas noch nie gesehen,” Byron tells him, and then in his best english, “beautiful.”

            Katya beams and points to the canvas he hasn’t been able to see.

            “I will make you walk in the most beautiful.”

            In the morning, Trixie wakes up with a hang over so bad that he swears he’s lost feeling in his limbs. He was a mess last night, he knew. Katya knew, the queens in the club knew, and the night shift staff of the hotel knew. Hell, Kim probably knew, somehow. It’s fine, he can bounce back from it. He has the emotional and mental fortitude. But physically, he’s a goner. He’s thirty years old and a hangover can kill him now.

            An hour later, he peels himself off the bed to trudge up the bathroom. The sound of the water hitting the sink helps him gather his thoughts and the water is refreshing to touch. But he catches himself before he washes his face. He leans forward to observe his face in the mirror, eyebrows scrunched in confusion. He touches his forehead like he can’t believe it. A red stain in the shape of a kiss. He knows what shade that is— hes’ making a lipstick in that exact color.

            “This is so not fair,” Trixie says out loud. He wants to hate her, really. The gesture is stupidly tender. It’s the exact opposite of what Katya has been trying to prove to him for weeks.

[imbumkyung]

I Saw It In A Movie One Time (ch. 1) - My

(twilight x reader)

Pairing: undecided

Chapter 2

Warnings: none! But this doesnt include the twilight world just yet

Most of her days were being spent like this lately. At home, walk the dogs, help out mom with the house, say she’ll do this and that— but doesn’t. Except on the rare occasions that she does. Thats why even after a whole month of not going out with her friends and ninety percent of her day being spent at home, her room was only getting messier. And honestly, in 2019, cell phone addictions are to blame.

Hours in her room dressing up with nowhere to go, and even more hours on instagram watching how much fun everyone else was having. In truth, it was a hole she dug on her own, rejecting invites and not creating them. She knew she needed to lose weight before going into the military because let’s face it— she can’t succeed in life any other way if education was never going to work out for her. She needed some sort of security for her future and if college wasn’t going to do it, the military would have to. Or at least that’s what her parents told her.

Though she was content, there was the part of her that wished there was some other way. But there wasn’t. She tried a whole dreadful year of college as an art major, and through that year she prioritized anything but school. She prioritized dancing and her social life. It hit her like a car crash that she couldn’t live on like this especially the the angel on her shoulder telling to her make the right decisions or her parents would find out about her antics. So when the car crash happened while she was supposed to be in school— instead she was on her way to get her nails done— it was the last straw for mom and dad.

The only thing that really made her want to stay away from the military was the boy she was talking to earlier in the year. That stupid boy. Long story short, the heartbreak he gave her really made her realize how strong she wanted to be, and let her dad know she wanted to see a recruiter the very next day. A maybe it was impulsive, but definitely rational.

So there she was, in her room at twelve noon, telling her long time friend Soren that she couldn’t hang with him because “her mom was mad at her and won’t let her go out”.

“It’s all good” he texted back.

Kaileia sighed. The only thing she could do was go to the beach, walk her dogs, go to the gym or wish she was as happy as she saw her friends were on instagram. Until her family vacation to California that was to happen in two weeks from now, passing time would be a burden. Deciding she’d soak in a bit of the Hawaii sun before coming back to her room only to be on her phone some more and possibly make some art, she peeled herself off the bed, prepared herself for the day and took her dogs out for a walk.

Besides the stressful pull of the leash her Border Collie– Athena– provided every time she saw another dog, these walks were always peaceful and provided much headspace. Hawaii was a beautiful combination for magnificent islands and Kauai was no exception. The humidity was just right, the sun was warm enough, the waters were usually friendly just as the people were. With so much headspace, her thoughts had everywhere to go.

“The population of Native Hawaiians are going dangerously low—I’m really no exception. I’m not even full Hawaiian. Poi donuts sound great right now. How are my sister and her boyfriend going to handle a long distance relationship? I wonder if if Kai actually likes football. Does he have a girlfriend? Whoever gets my little brother will be so lucky. I wonder if Keiki is doing okay in middle school. Mom has work tonight. Having two jobs and four kids is so stressful. Let’s not forget that Dad is going to school too— for the sole purpose of making money. The military pays him for it.

I wonder what Mark saw in Jennika that he didn’t see in me.

Her expression clouded, not wanting to remember him. They ended on a good note, but upon seeing that he decided to pursue a relationship with her and not him, it hurt her pride. A lot.

Snapping out of it and watching her two dogs happily walking along the beach, tongues out and frolicking about, she smiled. “These two have my whole heart” She thought.

What if life was different? If I had friends who texted me more than once in a blue moon. If I wasn’t on instagram all the time and I was actually out in the world. If I actually had people to shop with— okay maybe not that one. Shopping with other people around is distracting. But still, I wish I was closer with people.

Life right now was lonely for her. Soren’s invitation was one he sent for the first time in 2 months. Not that it’s his fault. She’d turn down his last one because she was too heartbroken by Mark to see anybody.

Nearing halfway through her route, she whipped out her phone to put on Pokémon Go! After all, it’d be a waste to pass all these pokestops even if she wasn’t planning on catching anything at the moment.

It was 1 p.m. and she was back from the walk. The sound of two little girls and a baby filled the house as they ran around pretending to be Elsa and Aurora in their pink and blue dresses.

She took out a mug and began to steep white tea. After a few minutes of this, she boiled 2 eggs, ate a banana, and made toast to put peanut butter on later.

“Going to the gym later?”, her mom, Mahealani questioned, holding the baby on her hip. She ran an at-home day care while working at a restaurant after 5p.m.

Kaileia cast an annoyed look for a quick second before muttering a “yeah”.

Ever since the emotional conversation to her mom about not wanting to pursue college, her mom made sure she knew that the military would be secure, and that she had to go as soon as possible in order to retire early. Mahea wanted the best for her daughter. The idea was always in her air, but Kaileia wanted to try out college first.

3p.m. Go to the gym because mom told you to

4p.m. Just a few more sets and we’ll go home.

Text from: Miko

Hey do you wanna go to Na Pali later? CJ and Li are coming too

Kaileia smiled, she loved that coast and the fish she could swim with that were within 4 feet high of the ocean

Text to: Miko

I’m down what time tho?

Text from: Miko

We’re gonna go at like 6 do u need a ride

Text to: Miko

yeeeee

5p.m.

”Should I take a shower? I just worked out but I’m gonna go in the ocean,” Kaileia asked Miko over the phone

“Just dont wash your hair I guess honestly I dont know,” Miko replied

“Bitch what if I infect the ocean,” Kaileia jokingly exclaimed

“Bitch, I don’t know! The fish will die I guess!” Miko laughed.

“Amazing,” Kaileia deadpanned.

“Oh and Li’s not coming anymore,” Miko mentioned

“Why?”

“I don’t know I think him and his mans are gonna do crackhead things,”

“I’m surprised,” Kaileia said sarcastically

“Same,” Miko said

7p.m.

Kaileia, CJ, and Miko walked in their swimsuits and towels along the coast, finding their usual spot before running right in. The two girls hair flowing behind them in the wind while CJ’s curls bounced with him.

8p.m.

The trio finally walked out of the water, feeling as if gravity was pulling them harder than usual.

Sitting on the towels, Kaileia suddenly asked, “Do you guys ever wish life was different?”

“Shit is it sad girl hours already?” CJ asked, earning a short chuckle from Miko.

“I honestly don’t even know like— the ocean has me feeling some type of way,” Kaileia explained.

“I wish I didnt have a nicotine addiction,” CJ suddenly joked, while taking a hit from his vape. The girls both laughed. “I don’t wanna be gay no more this shit making me stupid I swear” they laughed even harder at his half-assed excuses.

“Shut up hoe you love being gay,” Miko swatted him while taking a hit

“You right though,” he aknowledged

“You guys radiate crackhead energy like 24/7,” Kaileia said

And it was true. Out of the four— Li being absent— Kaileia was the most “normal” one. Not to say she wasn’t as crazy as them, she just was normal at more times than they were.

The rest of the night was filled with vine references, creating tik tocs on the beach, and taking “Hot Girl Summer” beach photos. Though it was dark, Kaileia decided to go for one last swim, taking Miko with her. CJ stayed behind to enjoy the night time coast while the girls ran in. Kaileia ran faster, underestimating the tide as she was already in 4feet deep and still being pulled in as she was deeper now and the wave aggressively towering over her at 7 feet. Stunned, she held her breath and braced herself.

“Kai!” Miko yelled, panicked

The only thing Kaileia heard after that was the gargling sounds of the unforgiving ocean before everything went black.

Tag list : @sunflowerspectre

Heres the first chapter! Before jumping into the Twilight world, I kinda wanted you guys to know the character a little bit. Thank you for reading! Likes, Reblogs, Suggestions / Recommendations & Critiques are appreciated!!

[rosepetalmark]

Not in the Stars

2.5k words

Renjun x Reader

warnings: alcohol mention

in which you plan to confess your love for your best friend to him at a party, but the universe has other plans in store for the both of you. 

You like Renjun. A lot. 

That was one sentence in your five years of friendship with Huang Renjun that you never thought you’d say to yourself, let alone admit to. 

You don’t know where these feelings came from, but all you know is that they’re strong and on your mind twenty four seven. Everything he says and does captivates your mind, causing your feelings for him to grow even stronger.

It’s as if these feelings for him suddenly hit you like a brick one day. You were strictly best friends last week, and now you have these unexplainable deep feelings for him, eating you alive and begging for you to confess to him.

It’s not that you’re opposed to dating Renjun, it’s just that he’s been your best friend for several years and he means so incredibly much to you. You just don’t want to risk losing him or making things between you two weird if he doesn’t feel the same. 

So you suppress your feelings. As long as you have Renjun as your best friend, that’s all that matters, right?

Jaemin always makes you second guess yourself, explaining that the dynamic duo that you and Renjun are would be ten times more incredible if you were dating. Since you’re already best friends and know everything about each other, why not date? Only bigger and better things can come from it he always says.

Although Jaemin makes strong points, you’re still scared Renjun will turn you away, mainly because you’re ninety nine percent certain that he only views you as a friend, nothing more and nothing less. 

Yeah you have sleepovers  and spend hours late at night talking on the phone with one another, but that’s what best friends do. If Huang Renjun has any feelings for you, you’re sure someone would have said something by now. 

You get the typical stares from old people when you make your daily trek to school in the morning, him waiting outside your house for you at exactly seven forty two, smiling so bright the second you walk out your front door.  

You constantly get mistaken as his girlfriend whenever you go out together on the weekend, which always causes a deep pink blush to appear on Renjun’s cheeks. He’s always quick to brush it off though, making it clear to everyone around you that you’re strictly best friends, and that neither of you view each other in that way. 

Boy is he wrong.

Everything about Renjun makes your heart flutter, and that’s something that scares you.

For starters, he excels so well in school. For someone who spends eighty percent of his time doodling instead of taking notes, he aces every test and can recite every piece of information that’s been discussed in class with no problem.

He’s caring and funny, and so unapologetically himself. He takes you to art museums on your spare time, talks about the latest conspiracy that’s on his mind, and always insists you go for milkshakes every Sunday night.

And boy was he cute. The way he tilts his head all the way back and crinkles his eyes when he laughs makes your heart absolutely melt.

Huang Renjun makes you happy and positive and there’s nothing more in this world that you want than to hold his hand and kiss him in public, as well as call him your boyfriend so bad. 

It wasn’t until you were out late with him, hanging out on the roof at Jeno’s house, trying to escape the loudness that was coming from inside. Jeno was throwing a kickback to celebrate the beginning of summer, something he does ever year, in which there’s always too many people inside, and you and Renjun find yourself on the roof trying to seek solace in the stars. 

Renjun looked so ethereal in the moonlight. There was nothing more that you wanted to do than press your lips ever so gently against his, and hold his hand while staring up at the stars displayed so brightly above you both in the dark sky. 

“What are you thinking about bubs?” Renjun asked, referring to the nickname he gave you when he found out that’s the name you gave your favourite stuffed rabbit when you were a child. 

God the way his voice sounded in this moment made you weak. The tipsiness you both experienced earlier was wearing off, causing your lack of hydration to become present through your raspy voices. 

But you don’t care. You’re with Renjun, and you are warm and comfortable and in love. 

In love. 

You’re in love with Huang Renjun and you can’t keep it in any longer.

Maybe this would be the best time to tell him. Every time you’re completely sober, you push the idea to the side, trying your best to forget your feelings for him even exist. What if Jun doesn’t feel the same? What if he does but months down the line you figure out you’re better off as friends, and then when you try to get back into your non-romantic routine, everything feels off? You always worry that things will go wrong and Renjun will eventually stop being your friend.

Not tonight though. Renjun looks gorgeous in the moonlight and the little bit of alcohol that remains in your system is acting as your source of encouragement, convincing you to confess to him right now and hope for the best outcome possible. 

“Love,” you reply nonchalantly. 

“Love?” he questions, staring back to you, seemingly surprised with your response. 

“Yeah. Just wondering what the universe has in store for me, you know?” you ask, turning your body to face his direction, criss crossing your legs over one another. “The idea of love both intrigues me and freaks me out. It’s exciting anticipating what will come from it, but the fear of something going wrong down the line makes me not want to pursue it, you know?” you say, staring innocently into his eyes.

He cocks his head, an intrigued look falling on his face. He purses his lips, looking as if he’s going to say something, but remains silent. 

You both remain in silence for the next several minutes, which causes your thoughts to wander. What if Renjun has caught on? Maybe he’s thinking of ways to turn you down gently. Or he’s trying to express that he somehow knows you’re talking about him, and he’s trying to do so in a similar manner. 

But the silence is killing you, and you want nothing more than for Renjun to say something. Anything to get your thoughts to shut up, and your heart race to stop rapidly beating.

“I think you shouldn’t be scared of love,” he finally says. 

Taking a deep breath, he looks off into the sky, admiring the many stars laying millions of miles away from you both. “I get that you never know what may come out of it, but I think it’s worth a shot to know you tried, and to experience something you’re not fully sure is going to work,”  he speaks softly.

“Take a look at the universe for example. It’s so big and undiscovered, yet millions of people are fascinated by it. We’re obsessed with the stars and galaxies and the possibility of aliens- which I know for a fact exist by the way, yet we’re not afraid to spend our time discovering them and giving them our attention. I think of love in a similar manner. Yeah the thought seems so broad and scary, as there’s so many things to experience and discover, but I think it’s worth it. You’re only going to learn new things about yourself and life, so why not give it a shot?”

He clears his throat, and pays his attention back to you. He has a look of determination in his eyes, and that only makes you grow even more anxious.

“Aren’t you a wise expert on love, Mr. Huang,” you chuckle.

“Well what can I say? I do a lot of thinking on my spare time when I’m not bickering with you,” he laughs, positioning himself on his arms so he can get a better view of the night sky.

“Hey!” you shout, pushing onto his arm, causing him to lose his newly comfortable position and to fall on his back. “What are you thinking about Ren? You have this sour look on your face.”

“Well your idea of love got me thinking,” he says softly, staring into your eyes.

Nervousness takes over your body. You have no idea what he’s going to say, and every second of silence is eating you up.

“And?” you say abruptly, eager to know what he’s about to say. 

“I’ve been thinking about this for a while now, and I don’t know, I never thought much of it because I’m a wimp, but I think I’m going to ask Yeri out” he confesses, a small smile forming on his face. 

The mention of Yeri makes your heart sink. Yeri. He wants to ask out Yeri. Not you. 

Of course he likes Yeri. What isn’t there to like about her? She’s really pretty and polite, and they’re both the editors of the school newspaper, so they spend a great amount of time with each other. 

God this hurt. 

“Oh really,” you respond, with a less enthusiastic tone replacing your prior happy one.

“Yeah. We’ve been getting to know each other a lot more ever since we got asked to do this editorial on the basketball team, and I think I may have feelings for her”

“Well, um I think you should go for it Renjun, “ you reply, looking off into the stars to help keep what’s happening off your mind. If you look into his eyes, you’re certain you’ll start crying.

If it’s not you, you’re glad he has an interest in a girl with a golden heart and personality. 

“You think? What if she doesn’t like me?” he asks nervously, fiddling with the rings on his fingers.

“Like you said Ren, you never know what will come from love. Why not give it a shot if it’ll lead to potentially greater things not only within yourselves, but life in general? And if she ends up only seeing you as a friend, it’s okay. You’ll find someone one day who loves every part of you.”

And you can’t help but know deep down that that person is you. If Yeri rejects him, you’ll be right here to help him pick up the pieces, if not, you’ll still be here. As his best friend. Renjun deserves all the love and happiness the universe has to offer him, and despite being sad he shows no romantic interest in you, you’re glad he finds it in an amazing girl. 

“Alright cool, I guess I’ll ask her out on Monday when we meet up to discuss the paper then.” he says, smiling to himself. 

He looks so happy. Ecstatic even. You haven’t seen him smile this big since he won first place in your school’s art show.

“She’s here you know, at the party,” you say to him. “You should do it now.”

“You think?” he asks, eyes wide. 

Renjun was never one to act on impulse. He’s a man with a plan, and always has to do things by the book or else he’ll lose his hair. He likes structure and time, a complete flip from your bold and impulsive self. 

“Yeah, why not? You’re both here, you look really cute right now, and the stars are out in your favour, shining bright to provide you with the courage to do so.” 

This makes Renjun smile. You’ve always been a help in boosting his confidence, and you’re glad to be of assistance in such a nerve-wracking yet exciting period in his life. 

Standing up, he dusts the possible dirt off his legs. He crouches over, looking into your eyes and grabs your hand. “You’re the best y/n. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“As I with you,” you reply, a soft grin forming from your lips. “Now go downstairs and ask her out before she leaves.”

Standing back up, he begins walking to the door. “I’ll let you know how it goes!” he half shouts, pressing his hand to the door handle,  and making his way back into the house. 

You’re now left alone, on the rooftop, with just the stars and your thoughts. 

Why didn’t you bring up your feelings to him sooner, you thought. Now you’re only left sad and alone, because you were too scared to tell your best friend you’re in love with him. Confessing to him seemed so perfect in your mind a couple minutes ago, but sadly the universe has other plans in store for you. 

You decide to get comfortable and lie down, and begin to look at the constellations that are possibly present within the night sky. You can still hear the loud, most likely drunk people just a floor below you, and the vibration of the music hitting your body despite being away from the noise. But you don’t care. It’s just you and the sky, and you’re doing everything in your power to forget about the party below you, and to focus on the stars. 

As you point out the orion in the sky, you feel a buzz in your back pocket, indicating that you’ve got a text. Reaching for it, you unlock your phone, and see a notification stating that Renjun messaged you. Pressing on the messages app, you click on his name and read the following:

jun bug: she said yes!! we’re going out on tueday after we’re done editing :) (2:17 AM)

“Yes.” Yeri said yes. 

You’re happy for your best friend, but for yourself, you’re heartbroken. The possibility of dating him is now slim to none, especially since a potential girlfriend is in the mix, only making you more sad for yourself. 

You make sure to reply quick, and in a way that’ll make him happy, and hopefully provide you with the positivity that everything will be okay.

y/n: i’m so happy for you ren <3 (2:18 AM)

As you press send, you feel the tears start to slide down your cheeks. You’re happy for him, you really are, but you can’t help but wish that things went differently, and that you were in Yeri’s position. 

But as Renjun said before, love can be scary. It’s a learning experience, and if it doesn’t work out, you just need to take what you can from it, and hope for the best in the future. 

So you’ll take his words, and you’ll try your best to move on. 

It’ll be tough, but you hope to god that one day he’ll just be your best friend, and that this heartbreak won’t last with you forever. 

[wistfulcynic]

Their Way By Moonlight: Emma (Chapter 4)

Notes: Thank you as always for your comments and feedback, though I confess I've been a bit taken aback by the vehement reaction to Emma and Walsh's cursed marriage. It seems that people hate Walsh in a much more visceral way than I anticipated.  

I do truly appreciate all of you who are reading this, and especially those who have made supportive and encouraging comments. I’m really putting a lot into this one in terms of style, plot, and detail, and it’s hard not to get discouraged when I pour blood and sweat into something only to have everyone focus on one tiny thing. So to ease your minds, here is our first chapter from Emma’s POV. I think it will go a long way towards assuaging your fears about her circumstances under the curse. If you are considering bailing on this fic because of the Emma/Walsh situation, I would ask you please to read this chapter before you make a final decision.  

As before, there are allusions to cursed relationships, and a potentially distressing scene of aggression within a cursed marriage. 

Summary: A new curse has fallen on Storybrooke and this time the Saviour is trapped inside it, deliberately separated from her son and anyone else who might help her break it. But what no one knows –including her own cursed self– is that she and Hook are soulmates, working together within their shared dreams to find a way to break the curse and free everyone from the clutches of evil yet again. (Alternate 3B, set in the What Dreams May Come universe)

Rating: A hard M

Tagging: @teamhook @wellhellotragic @rouhn @kmomof4 @resident-of-storybrooke @darkcolinodonorgasm @jennjenn615@tiganasummertree @let-it-raines @bonbonpirate @thejollyroger-writer @lfh1962

Anyone wishing to be added to or dropped from this tag list, please let me know!

Read it on AO3

Emma: 

Emma hesitated outside the door of the old cannery. She wasn’t quite certain of why she was there, or the reason behind the irresistible compulsion she felt to see its disconcertingly attractive new owner again. He had invited her to come by, though of course he’d meant later— the bookstore wasn’t even open yet. But Emma hadn’t been able to wait. Two days had passed since they’d met, since that brief but oddly intense conversation in Granny’s, and she had been unable to get Killian Jones and his son out of her head. Something about them, about him, pulled at her, and it wasn’t just his striking looks, not even the beautiful blue eyes with their expression of profound, compelling sadness. It was something deeper. She felt somehow as though she knew him, and more astoundingly that he knew her, better than anyone, better even than her own husband. Although, she thought with a small start, as though the idea had only just occurred to her, Walsh barely even took the trouble to speak to her these days, much less keep up with what was going on in her life. She’d been meaning to talk to him about that, she remembered suddenly. Yes. She’d been meaning to talk to him about a lot of things, but when the time came to do so she always seemed to forget. Tonight, she promised herself, making a mental note. Tonight they would finally talk. She wouldn’t forget this time.

Gathering her courage, Emma reached for the doorknob with her right hand, the palm of which still tingled from her brief handshake with Killian two days ago, and as she opened the door she remembered how the night before last her sleep had been troubled by disturbing dreams. She could recall only wisps of them, but she was certain he had been in them, he and his eyes, doing things to her that she couldn’t bear to think about in the light of day. Things she couldn’t bear to admit she had loved. 

She really should stay far away from him. And yet here she was, in his shop. 

She pushed the door open and stepped inside, gasping at the sight before her. The room was simply lovely, bright and airy, with sunlight pouring in through the wide windows, dancing across the exposed brick walls and the antique looking dark-wood shelves that stood tall in four distinct sections around the room.  A heavy mahogany desk sat opposite the door, elegantly carved with nautical designs: ships and storms, mermaids and other sea creatures she couldn’t put a name to, all rendered in exquisite detail. Atop it was an antique metal cash register, as elegantly decorated as the desk, sitting alongside, Emma was amused to note, a decidedly modern portable card reader attached to an iPad. Someone had a taste for the ancient but enough sense to appreciate the modern, she thought.

She was so caught up in admiration of her surroundings that she didn’t notice Killian’s arrival until he spoke. 

“Swan?” The sound of his voice seemed to wrap around her, as deep and sonorous as she remembered, almost caressing her name. She turned to see him standing at the foot of the stairs. “What are you doing here?”

“Um,” she said, feeling abruptly hot and itchy. How was it possible that he could be even better looking than she remembered? Admittedly she hadn’t really had a good look at Granny’s, though she had definitely noticed his face, but now as he stood by the black wrought-iron staircase that wound in a perfect helix up to a hole in the ceiling, his expression briefly unguarded and searingly intense, she had an opportunity to ogle. 

He wore dark grey trousers in a soft woolen twill and an equally soft looking v-neck sweater in a shade of blue that made his eyes stand out even more. A tuft of dark hair peeked out just above the vee, and the itch in Emma’s palm flared to life again with the desire to touch it, to touch him. Everything about him seemed so eminently touchable. The sweater clung to his lean frame just tightly enough to show how fit he was, and his hair was tousled in a way that looked both deliberate and as though it could have been caused by fingers being run through it in the heat of passion. 

What? Emma shook herself. Where the hell did that come from? Remember you’re married. And it’s not like you know anything about the heat of passion, anyway. At least, that’s what Walsh always told her, what he always gave as an excuse for why he didn’t want to touch her. She was cold, he said. Too hard. Not enough. She forced back those thoughts, promising herself once again that she would sit down with Walsh that evening and discuss the problems in their marriage. She dreaded it, but she had to try. They couldn’t go on much longer like this. 

“Uh,” she tried again to respond to Killian’s question. “You said I should come by.” 

“So I did, though I didn’t expect you quite so soon. I’m afraid we’re not open yet.” 

“Yeah, sorry, it was stupid,” she said, turning away. “I was just passing and I thought— never mind, I’ll go—”

“No!” She looked back at him, startled at the vehemence in his voice. He flushed faintly pink and reached up to rub at a spot behind his right ear. “No, you don’t have to go. Please don’t, in fact. I’d be happy to, um, give you a tour? If you’d like.” 

He looked hesitant but also eager, like he really, really wanted her to stay. She smiled. It felt like a long time since anyone had actually desired her company. 

“Okay,” she said, a bit shyly. “I’d like that.” 

A bright smile broke across his face, warm and soft and with just a hint of something wicked beneath it. For a moment Emma forgot to breathe. God, he’s gorgeous.

“Well, why don’t we start here?” he said, coming to stand beside her and indicating the near corner of the room with his left arm. His sleeve was pushed up slightly and she could see the seam where his prosthetic hand joined his arm. She realised with surprise that she hadn’t noticed the other day that he was missing his left hand. He’s missing his left hand. Why did that fact seem so significant to her? It tickled at the back of her mind, like something she needed to remember but couldn’t quite pull from her subconscious. 

“So we’re still waiting on some inventory, but you can see the general layout of the shop,” he was saying. “Reference material is here at the front, with theory guides just here behind it. The practical manuals we have to be a bit more careful with, so they’re back in this corner, some of them will be locked in a special glass cupboard, available on request only. Then here in this corner we have the historical context.” 

Emma frowned, looking more closely at the titles of the books that already graced the shelves. Rare volumes, he’d said the other day, but these were all—

“These are books of magic!” she cried. 

“Oh, aye, did I not mention? That’s our specialty. Books of and about magic.”

She started to laugh, then trailed off when she noticed he didn’t join her. “But you’re not serious?”

“Very serious.”

“Books of magic.” 

“And about magic, aye.” 

“But— magic isn’t real.” 

“There are quite a number of people who would disagree with that assessment, Sheriff.”

“And you’re one of them?” Her voice was rife with disbelief.

“Aye,” he replied, and the sincerity in his face and tone were unmistakable. “I am.” 

She shook her head. “I would never have pegged you as someone with an interest in the occult. You seem so, I dont know, practical.” 

“Oh, I’m very practical, love, but that doesn’t mean I can’t believe in magic.” 

She wanted to deny his words, really it was so absurd, but she realised with another start of surprise that she was genuinely interested, almost despite herself, curious to the point of fascination. “Will you tell me about them?”

He exhaled deeply, almost as if he had been holding his breath waiting for her reaction, and gave her another dazzling smile. “It would be my pleasure.” 

Nearly two hours later they were sitting on the floor surrounded by books, and Emma’s head was buzzing with stories of witches and wizards, covens and cults, fascinating details concerning the history and practice of magical arts.  She felt like she had learned more in that short time than she had before in the whole of her life. Of course, her earlier education had been… it had been… what? She couldn’t recall. Frowning, she tried to remember where she had gone to school, the names of her teachers, fellow classmates, anything, but it was all a blank. 

“Emma?” She turned to see Killian looking at her inquiringly. “Are you all right, love?”

She should really object to that ‘love’, she knew, but couldn’t bring herself to. She liked it. It made her feel warm inside. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just a bit distracted.” 

He nodded, and reached out to close one of the books. “We’ve been talking for a long time,” he said. “Perhaps we could take a break?”

She watched carefully as he used the prosthetic hand to close the book. The hand moved, she noticed, clearly it had some sort of mechanism operating it, but he seemed to mange it awkwardly, as though not quite used to it. She wondered how long he’d had— “When did you lose your hand?” she blurted, then flushed. “Sorry, it’s none of my business.” 

He looked startled, then smiled. “No, it’s fine. It’s been so long, I don’t mind speaking of it anymore.”

“How long?”

“Oh, years and years.” 

“What happened? Er, if you don’t mind me asking.” 

“Not at all. It was stupid, really. I was young, I got in a fight. Over a woman. Woke up the next day with no hand.”

“I’m so sorry.” 

He shrugged. “Like I said it was years ago.” 

“Mmmmm.” 

“What is it, Swan?” He looked almost expectant, like he knew the gears were turning in her head and was excited to see what they would spit out. She felt again the odd, unfamiliar sensation of being the focus of genuine interest. He truly seemed to care about what she had to say, for no reason other than that she was saying it. 

“It’s just— well, you don’t seem very comfortable with the artificial one. If it’s been so long, I guess I would have thought you’d be more used to it by now.” 

“Ah, well that’s explained easily enough. I lost my hand so long ago that the prosthetics that were available to me at the time were, um, let’s say primitive. This one however is quite new. State of the art, they tell me. It works by interacting with the electrical impulses in my muscle fibres, apparently. So you see, until quite recently I had a much simpler one, and this one, while far better in many ways, is taking a bit of time to adjust to.”

Every word he spoke was the truth, she could detect no dishonesty in his face or manner, yet she sensed it wasn’t the whole story either. He was leaving out important details. And she wondered why. 

As he spoke he adjusted the prosthetic with his right hand, drawing her attention to the thick, engraved silver band he wore on its ring finger. A wedding ring? she wondered. It must be. A man with no left hand would naturally wear his wedding band on his right, wouldn’t he? Especially if until recently he’d worn a simpler prosthesis, one with no fingers. 

She wondered, and not for the first time, about Henry’s mother. Killian’s face when he’d spoken of her in Granny’s had worn for a brief moment such a devastated expression, her loss must still be fresh and painful for him. In a weird way that made her feel better about having sought him out and spent so long talking with him. She was married, he a grieving widower, what harm could there be in a friendship between them? She certainly wouldn’t have to worry about anything coming of the fierce attraction she felt for him. Even if he felt it too, he would never act on it. He was very obviously still in love with his wife, and Emma somehow knew beyond any doubt that he was not a man to betray those he loved. 

“So, um, it’s ah, lunchtime,” he said, scratching behind his ear again. “And it seems we both could use a break. Would you care to join me? For some lunch?”

“Sure, I guess. Where were you going to go?”

“I—, uh, we live upstairs,” he gestured towards the staircase. “The third floor is a loft apartment, I was just going to go up and make a sandwich.” 

Alone with him in his apartment. Emma’s heart thundered. “A sandwich sounds great,” she managed to say. “Can you do grilled cheese?”

His face twisted for a moment into the strangest expression, half blissful happiness, half like he wanted to cry. “I can,” he said, his voice hoarse. “It’s my son’s favourite.” 

“In that case, I’d love to join you.” 

The grilled cheese was perfect, exactly the way she liked it. She told him as much, and was rewarded with another half-delighted, half-sad expression. “I’m glad I haven’t lost my touch,” he said, almost to himself. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Grilled cheese is— Henry’s mother’s favourite as well,” he said quietly. “Since we lost her we don’t make it as often as we used to.”

Emma didn’t quite know how to respond to that, so she crunched her sandwich in slightly awkward silence as he busied himself at the stove, avoiding looking at him until he slid a cup in front of her. “What’s this?” she asked in surprise. 

“Traditional Jones family accompaniment to grilled cheese,” he replied. 

She picked up the mug and inhaled over it. “Hot chocolate with— is that cinnamon?”

“Aye. It’s a bit odd I’ll grant you, and if I’m honest I prefer it plain, but that’s how Henry likes it.”

“Seriously? You’re telling me your son likes cinnamon on his hot chocolate.” 

“Aye.” He seemed to be watching her carefully. 

“Grilled cheese and hot chocolate with cinnamon is my favourite lunch,” she said. “You’re basically telling me that I have the same tastes as your thirteen year old kid.” 

“Would it help if I confessed to an affinity for it as well?” he asked, his face deadpan but with amusement twinkling in his eyes. 

“It might.” 

“Very well, I confess it, but you mustn’t ever tell Henry. I’d never get him to eat a vegetable again if he thought he could wheedle grilled cheese out of me every night.” 

“It’s a deal.” 

The earlier awkwardness was dispelled, and as Killian sat down to eat his sandwich Emma sipped her chocolate —it too was perfect— making it last as long as possible. There was no way she could justify staying any longer once lunch was over, and she didn’t want to go. She felt comfortable with Killian, and happy, things she couldn’t remember feeling in a long, long time. Later she knew she would need to analyse these feelings, but for now she simply wished to feel them. 

When the last drop was finally drained she set the cup down on the counter, then realised it might be nice if she took it to the sink instead and went to pick it up again, at the same time as Killian reached for it himself. Her hand closed around it first followed a second later by his, his fingers linking with hers in a way that felt so natural that it didn’t even occur to her to question it, simply laughing lightly as they released the cup but not each other’s hands. His thumb caressed her bare ring finger. “You don’t wear a wedding ring,” he said softly. 

She could barely breathe her heart was pounding so hard, the gentle movements of his thumb sending sparks coursing up her arm, reverberating through her whole body. “Um,” she said, trying to think. “No, I — I have one of course, but I don’t wear it.” 

“Why not?” 

“Er.” She tried to remember. There was a reason, surely? “I can’t with— with my job. It gets in the way.” Yes, that must be it. 

“Ah.” Something in his tone suggested he didn’t quite believe her, but before she could reply he had released her hand and turned away, picking up the mug and putting it in the sink. 

“I like yours though,” she said abruptly. Where did that come from? 

“What?” He turned, giving her an odd look. 

“Your wedding ring.” She reached out and took his hand again, this time caressing the silver band upon the third finger with her own thumb. “It is a wedding ring, isn’t it?”

He cleared his throat. “Aye.” 

“Henry’s mother.” It wasn’t a question and so required no answer, but he gave one anyway. “Aye.” The sadness was back in his voice, this time untempered by any joy.

Emma smiled, feeling suddenly swamped by sadness herself. She felt such a connection to this man, unlike anything she’d ever felt before, and she hated to think of him hurting. 

Briefly she allowed herself a rare, uncharacteristic moment of self-indulgence to wonder what it would be like to be loved as devotedly as Killian loved his wife. To be loved even after she was gone. To have such an emotion, from such a man. Swallowing back tears, she looked up at him. “She had good taste. This is exactly the sort of ring I would have chosen.” 

“She’s an extraordinary woman,” he replied, his voice rough with emotion, his eyes blazing with it. 

Emma nodded, wishing she knew why that remark left such a clutching, squeezing sensation around her heart. 

“Well I should go,” she said, releasing his hand.

He swallowed hard then gave her a small smile, a tight, guarded thing that squeezed her heart again. He looked so sad. She wanted to see the bright, wicked grin from earlier. 

“May I see you out?” he asked politely, his emotions under control again. 

She shook her head, already moving towards the door. “No, it’s fine. But thanks.”

“Any time, love.”

Her hand was on the doorknob when he spoke again. “Emma.” 

She looked back at him, gripped by the wild, irrational hope that he might ask her to stay. “What about your husband?” he asked. 

“Who?” She frowned in confusion, then remembered. “Oh, Walsh.” Why had she forgotten him? “What about him?” 

“Does he not wear a ring?”

“Of course he does.” Didn’t he? “Why do you ask?”

“It’s just that you said ‘would have chosen.’” Killian’s face was calm, but that intensity was back in his eyes. 

“What?”

“Just now, when you looked at my ring you said it’s exactly what you would have chosen. Not what you did choose.” 

There was that confusion again, swirling through her brain and blocking her thoughts. Why couldn’t she think? “I— I must have misspoken.” She rubbed her forehead, which had started to ache. 

He was silent for a long moment before replying. “Of course, I’m sure that’s it. Goodbye, Sheriff.” 

Emma smiled tightly and left. 

When she arrived home that evening, Emma sought out Walsh in his study. He didn’t like her bothering him there but she was confused, her head spinning with questions that needed answers. She’d spent the afternoon in her office with the lights dimmed, nursing her headache and making a list of all the questions she needed to ask him, everything that was odd in their relationship and in her life. It was a long list. Why hadn’t she ever talked to him before? She’d been unhappy for so long…

“What is it, Emma?” Walsh’s voice was cold.

“I just— wanted to talk to you. About some things.” 

He turned and fixed her with the icy, probing stare that never failed to make her tongue-tied and anxious. She wanted to flee, back to the relative safety of the living room, where Walsh rarely went. No! You need answers! Stay strong! 

“Some things,” Walsh repeated. 

“Y-yes.” 

“Well go on,” he waved his hand at her and adopted an expression of exaggerated patience. “We haven’t got all night. What are these ‘things’ that are suddenly so important?”

Emma had spent an hour memorising her list of questions, but now she could only remember one. 

“Why don’t you wear a wedding ring?” she burst out. “Why don’t I?”

“Of— of course I wear one!” Walsh looked genuinely surprised, his composure slipping enough to rejuvenate her resolve. 

“Walsh I am looking at your hand right now and it is bare,” she said. “Neither of us wear rings. I’m certain I have one, I remember it, but where is it? Why did I stop wearing it?” He gaped at her and she seized her opportunity, letting months worth of questions flood out. “And why don’t we do anything together any more? What happened to our friends? I remember— I think I remember that we used to go out, do things as a couple, with other couples. But we have no friends now, and I stay in alone every night. I feel like I never see you these days, you’re hardly ever home, you never want to have sex—” she broke off as a look of revulsion crossed Walsh’s face, crushing her, stopping the words in her throat. Your own husband finds you repulsive, she thought bitterly, and a small voice at the very back of her consciousness piped up with a single word. “Why?” 

What? thought Emma, and the voice elaborated. “Dont you want to know why?”

A memory flashed through her mind, although no, not a memory, it couldn’t be, but it felt like a memory. The blue, blue eyes of Killian Jones, warm with adoration, his deep voice, his hand in her hair. “You’re so beautiful, Emma,” he whispered. “So utterly, heartbreakingly beautiful.” 

“Walsh, what’s going on?” she asked, suddenly angry, furious, incandescent with rage. “There’s something very wrong here, and I think you’re behind it. Tell me what it is. Tell me what you’ve done to me!”

Walsh’s face twisted into a terrifying snarl and he grabbed her arm, pulling her towards him until they were nose-to-nose, drowning her anger in fear. “Why are you asking these questions all of a sudden?” he hissed, “Does it by any chance have something to do with our new neighbourhood bookseller?” 

“Wh— what?” Emma scrambled to lie, to protect Killian. “No! Of course not.” 

“You’re a terrible liar, Emma.” Walsh sighed, his face falling back into its usual supercilious, condescending expression. Still holding her arm he turned and picked something up from his desk, a small box in silver filigree, beautiful in a cold and terrible way. “Fortunately it won’t matter. Come morning you’ll be yourself again. Or one of your selves, anyway.” He opened the box with a flick of his thumb and blew a harsh puff of air into it, sending a shower of glittering grey particles flying into Emma’s eyes. She gasped, then collapsed. Walsh held her up with his grip on her arm, then gave her a shove back into the sofa behind her. “That should take care of you for now,” he muttered, looking down at her unconscious form. “It appears that the pirate works faster than I had anticipated. Of course very little that we anticipated about him has turned out to be true. How he even managed to get here in the first place is something I would very much like to know. He is supposed to be stuck in Neverland.” He paused, smirking. “The power of true love, I suppose,” he said, sneering the words. “But he’ll soon be dealt with, him and your son. And now, ‘wife’, off to bed with you.” He waved his hand and Emma disappeared in a puff of green smoke. 

When she awoke the next morning, alone in her bed as always, all her doubts and worries about her marriage along with all recollection of her confrontation with Walsh were gone. 

Her memories of the time she’d spent with Killian Jones, however, were not. 

Notes: I hope this makes you feel a bit better (but still interested enough to want more!). 

[callboxkat]

Quiet (part 18)

Author’s note: I was rather self-indulgent in this part. I think you guys will like it, too.

Warnings: college, selective mutism, reference to past panic attack, guilt, mentions of illness

Word count: 1733

Masterpost!

Not long after Patton and Logan found out about what had been going on with V, and what had really happened at the infamous movie night, everyone departed the park. Logan and V each drove home separately, and Patton drove Roman back to campus to fetch his car. Along the way, the two of them had a talk.

Patton never looked at Roman, just talking as he drove and keeping his tone neutral.

Roman already felt conflicted about things, having of course seen how upset V had looked at the park. Nevertheless, at first, as Patton explained what he and Logan claimed to have discovered about V, Roman felt defiant and self-defensive. However, while a part of him wanted to break in and justify himself, he knew that Patton would only silence him. And anyway, the longer Patton spoke, the less defiant Roman felt. Instead he felt… shame.

The story about being unable to talk at certain times had seemed a little ridiculous at first, but Roman realized that it actually made a lot of sense. He recalled when V had confronted him outside of their American History course. V had only been able to say one word (“Hey!”) and then had looked to be chewing gum or something of the like. Roman supposed that that could have been a sign that V was fighting to get words out.

And, oh, when Patton got to that awful movie night. Roman actually covered his face when Patton, his voice shaking slightly, recounted that part of the story. When he revealed that V had, upon not being able to pay for his pizza, apparently had a panic attack and passed out in an alleyway. And none of them had found him, let alone helped.

And then Roman had gone and torn up the money when V had tried to pay him back (even if V had done so in a rather rude way).

Roman had to make this right.

…

Roman wasn’t in class on Thursday.

None of them—Logan, Patton, and Virgil—had seen him since the day before, when they all departed from the park. Logan and Virgil had each driven home alone, but Patton told Virgil that he and Roman had had a talk as Patton drove him back to campus to get his car.

“He seemed kind of conflicted,” Patton admitted after class. The three of them were leaving the building together. “He didn’t say much while I was explaining things to him.”

“What did you tell him?” Virgil had asked.

“Just the truth, kiddo.” Virgil had groaned at that, but Patton at least had the grace to look slightly ashamed. “He deserves to know, V.”

Virgil supposed that maybe that was true, but why did everyone have to know everything? Who was going to take him seriously knowing how pathetic he was?

Damn it.

“I still do not understand why he did not attend class,” Logan commented.

“Well… I don’t really know, either,” Patton shrugged. “Maybe he needed some time to think about things.”

“He could be sick,” Logan supposed.

Virgil raised an eyebrow, glancing back at Logan. They all knew Roman wasn’t sick.

Besides, even if he was, Virgil was pretty sure he would show up anyway. Roman didn’t seem like the type to miss class for an illness, especially not a mild one. Besides, Roman had seemed just fine on Wednesday.

Logan didn’t seem to understand what Virgil was trying to convey, so Virgil just sighed and looked back ahead. They were almost at the entrance now.

“Well, have a good night, everybody,” Patton said, looking at his friends with a smile. The three of them parted ways, but as he walked to his car, Virgil couldn’t help but keep an eye out for Roman’s signature crimson jacket. There was no sign of it.

…

It was Friday night.  

They were skipping movie night again. No one had said so, but Virgil knew. Patton knew. Logan knew. And Joan and Talyn, of course, knew too. Joan had just texted Patton to confirm—the only one to actually decide it was worth doing so.

Besides, the group of friends still had yet to hear anything from Roman. Apparently, he hadn’t gone to any of his classes since Wednesday. Logan was still claiming that sickness was a possibility, but Virgil could tell that even he didn’t believe that. They all knew Roman was avoiding them. One of them in particular.

At the moment, Virgil was at his apartment, just scrolling through random social media. He’d gotten off of work about an hour before, and he was looking forward to getting to just relax for a bit and try to forget about what was going on. He was about to start watching a vine compilation when his phone screen lit up with a text message notification.

Princey: This is Roman. Dont know if u deleted my #.

Princey: Can we talk???

Virgil stared at the messages uncertainly.

Princey: V?

His fingers hovered noncommittally over the keyboard before quickly typing and sending a curt reply.

V: Sup princey

Princey: Am I still Princey in ur phone?

Princey: Nvm, not important. I want to talk to u.

V: here I am

Princey: No no like TALK to u.

Ugh. Virgil didn’t feel like going anywhere. He was tired from class and work, and besides, why did he have to go out just to get lectured again?

Princey: If u give me ur address I could go there

A long pause.

Princey: Pls??

Virgil sighed, running a hand over his face.

You know what? He thought. Fine. Roman already had such a low opinion of him, what would this matter?

Virgil sent his address.

…

Was this a prank?

Roman was definitely at the right address. He’d checked four times. But… this couldn’t be right. The address V had given him led to a dilapidated old building, with crumbly brown bricks and ivy and broken windows. The lawn leading up to it, where it wasn’t in large dead patches, was overgrown and full of weeds. The sidewalk was a broken leg waiting to happen. V couldn’t live here.

V: What’s taking so long, princey?

Princey: might be at wrong place

V: You’re not.

Well, okay, that was a completely normal and not at all foreboding response. But Roman just shifted the box under his arm and approached the building anyway.

Next to the main door of the building was a panel he could use to request entry from different apartments. He pressed the button labelled 3B—V’s apartment number. Beside it was a white label with R Night, V Thompson written on it. So, V’s last name was Thompson. That was new information.

He waited a few seconds, then heard a buzz, and the lock clicked open. Roman pushed open the door and walked into a dark hallway.

…

V resumed his pacing as soon as he pressed the button to let Roman in. Remy wasn’t home at the moment to stop him, so why not?

There was a knock at the door, and Virgil stopped. He padded up to the door and looked through the peephole. Of course, it was Roman, so he opened the door.

“Um… hi,” Roman said, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else at that exact second. Virgil could relate.

Virgil took a half step back, then waved Roman in in a lackadaisical manner as he walked back into the main room. He heard the creak of a floorboard as the junior stepped inside, then the door shutting with a click.

Virgil cleared his throat, hummed a second, and then spoke. “What’d you come to say?” he asked, glad that his voice decided to cooperate for once. “Just get it over with.”

He flopped down on the couch, looking up at Roman expectantly. To his slight surprise, the other student just shuffled over to the couch and sat beside him—not too close, but still.  Virgil noticed for the first time that he had a box (a gift box?) with him.

“I’m sorry,” Roman said simply.

Virgil stared at him.

“Patton told me about—about what happened. And I….”

Virgil nodded. He knew about their conversation.

“I had everything so wrong. And I hope you can forgive me.” He moved the box from his side so that it was sitting on his lap. “And, well… I know this doesn’t fix things, but… but, um….” For once, it was Roman having trouble with words. The tips of his ears were starting to turn red. He thrust the box towards Virgil. “You know, maybe it’s better if you just open it.”

Virgil took the box, raising an eyebrow at Roman questioningly. He put the gift box on his own lap, and after a second’s hesitation, slowly untied the bow and removed the wrapping paper. He opened the box.

...

Roman was watching him carefully, but V didn’t seem to react. He was just staring into the box. Roman tried to stammer out an explanation.

“I, um… You never told Patton what happened, but… I can’t help but assume it has to do with me. So… so I… I decided to try to at least make something right.”

V reached into the box, and pulled out a carefully folded bundle of fabric.

“It’s…. I have to admit I found the old one a bit drab. So I… I saw your new shoes, and I noticed that the laces are sort of purple. And I just… kind of ran with that.”

Roman’s heart was pounding, and gosh, he was nervous. Why wasn’t V reacting? Did he hate it? Did he just hate Roman too much to accept his apology?

V let the garment unfold in his hands, so he was holding up his new hoodie, in all its purple and black angsty glory, in front of him.

Roman shifted uncomfortably, and he tried to look any sign of what the younger man was thinking.

And then he noticed—V wasn’t staring at the garment in disgust, or disdain, or boredom. He looked almost mesmerized. He ran a thumb over the white stitches that held one of the purple plaid patches in place. He inspected the sleeves and found the zippers that ran down them from the elbow to the wrist.

V put it on.

He smiled.

And Roman couldn’t help but smile back.

Tag list: @patton-loves-coloring @starryfirefliesbloggo @purplesoul-at-hogwarts  @lotusthatexists @lizaelsparrow @awesomelissawho @amuthefunperson @faithfreedom @bunny222 @syndianites @astraastro @momolinia @hamilin-manuel-miranda @goldenkiddos @afilhadehades-blog @virgeofselfdestruction @theresneverenoughfandoms @iris-sanders-athena @super-magical-wizard @jesjessode @rainbow-sides @thefallendog @fanficptsd @zodiac-awesome @lookitsthatquietgirl @soft-boy-patton @nerd-in-space @pearls-of-patton @ab-artist @angered-turtle @im-so-infinitesimal @enby-kiddo-with-a-blog @raygelkitty

[commonhooker]

i just woke up from a nap so story time: the woman who lives below us is an actual insane person

the first thing she did when we moved in in november (we officially moved in in december but we got the keys to move our furniture a few days prior) was to tell us that we need to clean the stairwell on our designated friday (3 week rotation), and she was upset we hadn’t on november 30th, which was a friday

first of all we weren’t technically moved in then, and second of all the rules hadn’t been clear because we’d seen her clean monday, and figured, oh, maybe it’s just a ‘‘during the week when it’s needed but it doesn’t HAVE to be friday if it doesn’t look bad’‘ thing. but whatever, we just told her sorry, we just moved in, but we would make sure to remember in the future

over the next few weeks she just complained at us for very basic shit, such as ‘‘don’t forget to close the door to the laundry’‘ even tho we literally had locked the door EVERY time we’d been there, she didn’t even have anything to complain abt

then one evening around 10:30pm in december, my boyfriend accidentally drops something on the floor, and she goes fucking feral on us saying we ‘‘stomp the floor repeatedly’’ and her son needs to sleep (he’s a teenager for reference). my boyfriend ends up just telling her we’re busy and closes the door because she just keeps going and is seemingly only interested in bitching and not in having a constructive conversation

so months go by, it’s now march, and this whole time we’ve lived basically above a club. even before she got all pissed off with us, she would play music all day long and it’s so loud it SHAKES our apartment - she has even broken house rules on several occasions and played after 9pm on weekdays (which i have recorded on multiple occasions) and in weekends way into the night.

now don’t get me wrong, people are allowed to play music! but my god, we literally live above a club, and this is without exception every fucking weekend, and every day of the week. she doesn’t seem to have a problem with it because she’s a bum who doesn’t work, but other people get up in the morning and like, do shit with their day

what a concept ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

fast forward to last night, friday. we get home around 9pm after having celebrated my cats birthday at my moms place (dont come for me i love him and he deserves it and hes a big boy), and decide to go to bed around 11pm because we’re exhausted from school and work. around 1:30am we’re woken up, not just by music, but by what feels like the fucking armageddon approaching. now i’m a light sleeper, but my boyfriend can sleep through almost anything, and even he woke up from it

we waited to see if she just needed to get this one song off her chest, but alas, she kept going, and eventually my boyfriend went downstairs to confront her and tell her it’s nearly 2am and time to turn off the music. now not only is she physically threatening (like she was all fists), but she screams at him that it’s okay because ‘‘she has a son and we’re alone’‘ (presumably she means we don’t have kids), and that when he needs to sleep at night, we stomp around in our apartment. i recorded all this for the sake of later confrontation, and thank god my half asleep dumbass thought of that

but we were both so fucking confused tho, because first of all we both go to bed pretty early normally because we need to get up early, and even if we stay up late, we sit at our computer, which doesn’t require much stomping ... so unless she thinks we can’t walk around in our own apartment, i don’t know what her complaint was. but i went back to check the ad and nowhere does it say you’re required to levitate to rent the apartment, phew

so anyway after this, she’s still going feral and insulting my boyfriend, calling him sick (she didn’t explain why, i think it was just her best insult lmao), and ending abruptly by saying ‘‘fuck you’‘ and slamming the door in his face. at this point we’d warned her we’d be in contact with the landlord.

so i write him, despite it being 2 in the morning, letting him know i’m incredibly sorry for writing so late, but we’re so fucking done at this point. he replies back almost immediately saying he wrote her (presumably to turn off the music), and that we should talk at a better time. and tbh kudos to him for replying so fucking late, on the weekend nonetheless

ANYWAY, this bitch keeps playing her insanely loud music, and even with earplugs it’s completely impossible to sleep. we decided that since we couldn’t sleep, we’d just stay up and talk (luckily none of us had work today) until she stopped, and then just let the landlord know in the morning how long she kept playing. oh but were we fools, because i can now report that it is nearly 5pm, and she is still playing music, and has not stopped since 1:30 this morning

we were smart enough to record just how loud it was with regular intervals during the night, tho. but anyway i write the landlord at 7am letting him know we were thankful for him trying, but it hadn’t helped, and she was still playing music, and had been all night, resulting in very little to no sleep. he’s sorry to hear and says he’ll talk to her later the same day, and will get a lawyer involved monday (i was like a child on christmas).

he sent me a text again right before i basically passed out from being tired, saying he had just tried to knock on her door, and despite multiple attempts she hadn’t responded, but he could hear her music loud and clear. he also said he’d left a note for her, encouraging better behaviour, and saying that if her shenanigans don’t stop, she’s hereby evicted. oopsie doopsies!