#and they would air the weirdest shit at nights

[razzek]

In case you ever wondered why I'm Like That, this was a very formative show for me and a lot of weird kids in the 90s staying up late and sneaking a watch of very questionable tv. :D

[harmonictechnicality]

Steve wakes up around three or four in the morning almost every night. He’s always careful getting out of bed. Small movements, slow footsteps. Minimal bones cracking. Doesn’t want to wake Eddie. Not that he needs to be this careful because his boyfriend could sleep through several natural disasters (and if someone bothered to wake him in this scenario, he’d put an impotency curse on them or some equally fucked-up shit). 

But that’s one of the reasons why they work. Not because of the sad-dick curse thing. They just exist on different sides of the scale. The raging insomniac and the deepest sleeper known to mankind. It balances out in the weirdest possible way.

Still… he’s always careful. Can never be too careful.

Steve doesn’t really do much when he wakes up at this ungodly hour. He sort of walks around their duplex, drinks a glass of water, opens a window to breathe in that pre-sunrise air. It fills his lungs up differently than normal air. At least, it feels like it does.

Like less people are breathing it in. Like he can take up space without feeling selfish. The logic doesn’t really add up but whatever. Concepts like logic and science are overrated at four in the morning.

After another lap around the place, he slides back into the covers, drapes an arm over Eddie’s waist. His t-shirt is rumpled up to his chest, so Steve is met with linen-warm skin. His fingers curve into Eddie’s sides, pulling himself closer. 

Steve yawns, breathing out all of his pre-sunrise air. Inhales the scent of his boyfriend instead. Smiles like an idiot into the pillow because it’s totally a fair trade.

And Eddie… well, he doesn’t even budge - doesn’t even stir when Steve settles in next to him. He just continues to wheeze through his nose, mouth slightly open. Not quite a snore, but Steve will probably tease him about it in the morning regardless. 

This right here. This makes Steve’s shitty sleep cycle worth it.

The sun pokes through the window blinds. Eddie pokes Steve’s cheek. Too much poking going on for Steve who definitely didn’t get enough sleep, per usual.

“You got up last night.” Eddie mumbles, still lazily poking him. 

“How’d you know?”

“Bed felt different.”

Oh. The way Eddie says it. A crash of honesty. His voice sounds weathered, unused from sleeping. Barely awake. It sort of hits Steve’s heart like a crime he didn’t even know he was capable of committing. 

Honestly, he doesn’t get why last night would be any different. Steve gets up most nights, not just last night. But Eddie looks particularly wounded by this (new) realization, so Steve probably shouldn’t point that out right now. Maybe in the afternoon when Eddie is more alert. Less… offended.

“Well, I’m back now.” Steve grabs Eddie’s index finger, the one poking him, and places it over his own lips. Bites at it gently till Eddie pulls away in protest. He’s smiling as he swears. Lets out a string of half-hearted threats about how he’s gonna pour Steve’s hair supplies down the sink for such a vicious attack. 

It’s a little irresistible when Eddie gets like this. When he’s the pouty one instead of Steve. All he can think to do is reach out, curl his hand underneath Eddie’s chin and pull him in. Eddie moves so easily, gives up his one-sided fight long enough to kiss Steve. Hands running up his back, legs hooking around Steve’s thighs.

Drowsy, morning kisses are so good. So, so good. Their lips feel heavier, their motions feel thicker. Every touch is guided by pure need. Steve fucking needs this, to feel Eddie curving into him, arms framing his own, groaning every damn time they break away. It all makes Steve feel needed too. Needed by the guy who changed the trajectory of his life by asking Steve to ‘hang out or something’ two years ago. 

Or Something turned out to be absolutely everything.

“New rule.” Eddie huffs, drags his lips down Steve’s jaw. “For every hour you spend awake during the night, you owe me.”

Steve laughs. “I owe you, huh?”

“Mhmm. You owe me an extra hour of wallowing in bed together in the morning.”

“What about work?”

“The hours will have to rollover, I guess. Accrue interest.” Eddie lifts up from Steve’s neck, eyebrows raised. Clearly having too much fun with this. “We can hash out the details over coffee and burnt toast.”

Typically, Steve would play along, continue the little comedy routine that Eddie starts up. But he’s so damn tired from the lack of sleep and early fucking wake-up call. So instead, he tugs Eddie back down by his collar and whispers, “Whatever you say, baby.”

Because that’s what it boils down to. He’d do anything for Eddie to kiss him this deep, till their lips blister and their jaws ache. Steve would give every fragment of lovesick happiness in his heart, just to hear the way Eddie says his name all breathy and raw. 

He can’t say that out loud, dear god no. Eddie would mock his ass into next century. So Steve just hums into Eddie’s mouth, twists the collar of his shirt enough to permanently wrinkle it. They’re verging into that gray area between cable-approved makeout sessions and dry humping till the alarm goes off. If there wasn’t an alarm to worry about, Steve would already have Eddie’s boxers already his ankles and moaning his name the way he likes it best.

Whoever invented alarm clocks are the ultimate boner-killer.

Steve ducks his head into the crook of Eddie’s neck, lays a few quick kisses on top of his shoulder. Hopes that translates to, ‘I wanna suck you off till there’s nothing left, but I’m a boring fucking adult with a boring fucking job.’ 

The translation must be clear enough because Eddie rolls off of him and heads to the bathroom. Seems just as grumpy about it as Steve. Good. They can be cranky together.

When he comes back out, they get ready for their respective work shifts. Steve looks over, watches Eddie struggle with a tangled portion of his hair, before giving up.  Accepting defeat way faster than Steve ever would. “Uh, Eddie?” He tries his best to hide his snickering through the question.

“Yeah?”

“Why does it matter if I wake up sometimes?” Okay. Most times.

“You’re gone.” Eddie shrugs. “Simple as that.”

The reaction is too mellow for Eddie though. Shrugging and dismissiveness? Nah. He’s downplaying the shit out of whatever he’s feeling, and Steve’s not having it.

“What do you mean it’s simple?”

“It’s just… I don’t know. Doesn’t seem fair.” Eddie checks the clock, then sighs. “I want more time.”

More time? More time with Steve or more time in general? Either way, it doesn’t add up. They’re young - they have all the fucking time they could ever want. Also, they live together and have all the same friends. It’s not exactly a logical theory.

Then again, neither is Steve’s ‘pre-sunrise air supply’ theory. None of it makes sense. But at least they’re here. Wanting fresh air and each other. That’s enough logic for a lifetime.

“Hey.” Steve walks over and takes Eddie’s hand. He taps over his ring finger, the one that symbolizes something they can’t have. Not now, not in this society. Still. It means something. So he stares intently at it, rubs over the place where a ring might sit. Thinks that Eddie would pick out something bold. Something gaudy and perfectly him.

More time. Steve gets it, he does. He releases Eddie’s hand and nods. Smiles.

“I’ll steal us as much time as I can, Eddie Munson.”

[the-oblivious-writer]

Carpenter Sisters Headcanons

Sam Carpenter & Tara Carpenter

Notes: Just some headcanons of my favorite sisters (aka my beloveds). Wanted to give you something since I've been pretty inactive this month partly due to the Christmas special I'm planning (which is coming soon) I also just love Sam & Tara sm, they will forever live on no matter what

Sam Carpenter

We should all already know this but, Sam is all the above when it comes to Tara. Big sister? Check. Dad? Check. Mom? Check, check, check

Makes Tara carry around a bunch of self-defense weapons like a taser, pepper spray etc

Texts like an old man. She doesn't know a whole bunch of "text lingo" so Tara uses that to her advantage. She'd text you "Kys" thinking it meant "keep yourself safe" because that's what Tara told her. She definitely uses these emojis: 😂 🙂

Is completely lost when it comes to "slang terms" and abbreviations. Tara: "You ate that Sam." Sam: "Ate what? I'm not even eating." Tara's laughed/made fun of her for it while Sam remains confused

Hates being called Samantha. It reminds her of how her mother would scold and ridicule her. When Tara started calling her Sammy, she couldn't be any happier with the given nickname

Never got Tara's love for Horror growing up, but tried to understand for her. In her opinion, it's illogical how most of the characters act, but Tara likes it so she doesn't mind giving it another try

Definitely introverted. She's more outgoing with people she's comfortable with; Tara, Mindy, Chad. Growing up, she never socialized a lot

Will always set everybody else's plate before her own

The Core Four have game nights and it can get... intense. Let's just say on multiple occasions (whether that was Tara buying her out during monopoly or Chad and Mindy giving her yet another +4 in Uno) she has been extremely close to flipping the table

Could laugh to the point where she's gasping for air, I can imagine her and the Core Four just wheezing over the dumbest things

Definitely had "the world doesn't understand me so I cope by blasting music very loudly in my room, not gaf who I piss off" phase. One of the songs she would blast was Creep by Radiohead (canon event. I can't interfere.)

Tara Carpenter

Could sleep anywhere, and always sleeping any chance she gets. I'd say she's a night person, and hates being woken up so early in the morning. And I can imagine she's a sleep talker too

Growing up she had a favorite stuffed animal she carried around everywhere with her and refused to sleep without it

She was a thumbsucker growing up, which she was teased for

Never learned how to ride a bike

She's always hated needles. Whenever she was forced to get a shot when she was younger, she refused to take it without Sam being in the room with her. Sam would let Tara squeeze her hand as tightly as she needed to

Cannot drive for shit. I just know this woman is a bad driver, Sam and the others just hold on to dear life and cross their fingers when Tara gets into the driver's seat

Her car is a complete mess, like you'll just find the randomist stuff in there. There's probably no limit to what you could find if you just try hard enough

She wakes up in the weirdest positions and thinks, "How tf did this even happen-"

Bullies kids on roblox (I don't make the rules)

If someone messes with Sam, they better count their days

She can get soo competitive. If she's winning, you'll know. Can get cocky when celebrating, chanting and everything

Her, Chad, and Mindy would put together one of those "performances" when they were little in order to convince Sam to let them stay up late or have a sleep over. Sam said yes every time

Tara's a shark defender. She believes they're extremely misunderstood creatures

-----------

A/N: I need a Sam & Tara for Christmas

[vampire-exgirlfriend]

You guys, what the fuck is up with the increase in stealing and plagiarising in this fandom lately? When did that become a thing that was okay to do?

The first time I was flat out plagiarized was almost four years ago in a different fandom. A well known author in that fandom took the first paragraph of a short one shot, one of the first things I’d ever posted and that I was incredibly proud of, switched a few words, and then used it as the summary for their slightly longer fic. They then went on to steal the premise of my ficlet and just…make it longer. This was brought up in a discord server a friend of mine was in that I wasn’t and the general consensus was “who would believe you? You’re nobody.” So I kept my mouth shut and I deleted my fic because seeing it made me feel like shit. Something similar then happened to a friend of mine with the titles of her fics being stolen, flat out and word for word, for the same characters. And again it was “no one will believe you.”

We shut up. We stuck it out. And then when it kept happening, to us and to others, we left that fandom.

I was so, so excited when HotD aired. I was back in my ASOIAF phase that had never actually ended. It was a new opportunity to make friends with common interests and my writing improved so much because of how passionate about the canon material I was. I have made some of the most incredible friends, like life-long, stay up all night talking, come to my house or let’s hang out when you’re in my state/country kind of friends. It’s pretty amazing. But this fandom is a whole different beast than any other I’ve been involved with. I have no idea if it’s the general age of the fandom, or the lack of prior fandom experience, or what us old people call the “tiktokifcation of fandom.” But it’s different. And while that’s usually a good thing, there are so many times when this has been awful. There is a huge lack of accountability here. People are stealing things. And the weirdest part is, they don’t care! It is plagiarism to have someone else's story opened while you write yours so that you can tone match the other writer. It is plagiarism to take people’s well thought out ideas and then use them beat for beat. I get it, it’s fic, nothing is wholly original, we are going to see idea recycling! That’s just fandom. But to model your entire story off of someone else’s is heinous. And it’s wrong. And this literally just happened to a very good friend of mine. When she mentioned she was uncomfortable with it and had blocked the person who did this, someone she considered a level headed mutual (who has recently admitted to plagiarising someone else themselves, mind you) told her that she was just drama baiting and didn’t have the right to be upset. The same thing happened to me with a now deleted creator who told me that she dragged me in her discord server and that her friends (all big name creators would essentially “black list me” for saying anything).

It’s not dramatic to not be okay with your work being stolen! This is a normal fucking reaction. In trad publishing or academia, this shit gets you banned, expelled, etc. It can ruin your life.

I received a slew of anons recently asking for help with graphic making and editing. And I was so excited about them. That shit is fun for me. We chatted for a while, with them on anon, and that was that. Until I got an anon letting me know that the person I was talking with was someone who had stolen ideas and storylines from me and other creators. So I looked, I asked friends to look, and the consensus was “yeah, this is fucking plagiarism, and it’s weird.” All of the edit stuff she’d asked about was used on an edit that was a direct rip off of my own. But I elected to not make a thing of it, to ignore it, to wash my hands of it because of the weird fucking trend of calling out theivery being labeled as drama baiting. And I didn’t want that, not after I had genuinely made the mistake of thinking that someone had stolen an idea from me when they hadn’t (calm down, we’re really close friends now). This person deleted their old blog and so I thought it was over. And then yesterday I got a dm from this new blog I didn’t even know existed accusing me of sending them harassing anons.

A blog, who had stolen from me and at least four other people, who had reached out to me on anon for help and ideas, that at this point I didn’t even know existed anymore, said they knew I was sending hateful anons accusing them of theft. I wasn’t, of course, because I had no idea they even existed, and it made no sense that I would even know they’d created another blog. I only found out about their new blog when they dm’d me from it. But they had obviously done this to enough people that they were now getting called out on it.

You guys, we have to fucking stop acting like this. This fandom needs to stop stealing from each other and eating our own. And if someone brings up that they’ve had an idea stolen, we need to take them seriously instead of insinuating they’re only attempting to cause drama. Stop sending people unhinged anons because you feel like you’re guilty of lifting from another creator and just work on creating something original. Writing is hard. Giffing and making edits is fucking hard. And no, nothing will ever be 100% original, that’s just impossible at this point, but stop fucking taking things that aren’t yours and claming them as your own. Do better. Grow up.

[13as07]

Weekend #1

(Neji Hyuga & Shikamaru Nara)

[Artwork is not mine! Credit to BM (?). Sorry, I couldn't find the original source but I really liked it so meh]

Requested by: xxziggy

Word Count: 3,462

Warnings and/or Pre-Notes:

First half is a lot a bit smut so be warned; not a full smut cause I wasn't feelin it for whatever reason

Love triangle (obvs)

Fingering (female receiving)

Blindfold

Temperature Play (Lighter/Ice Cubs)

Hickey

Getting called "pet"

Not me accidentally making this a nature (growing up with Shika) vs nurture (Neji taking care of you) situation

———————————————————————

     "This is such a drag," Shikamaru says as soon as I open my front door.

"If you don't want to help me pick out a swimsuit, I'm sure Ino will," I grumble, leaving the door open as I walk away.

"You always say that she 'likes anything you try on' and that 'Ino is no help' so, no. This is less of a drag than listening to you bitch for the whole weekend," he grumbles back, closing the front door before trailing after me.

Shikamaru and I are friends... a little more than friends. Fuck buddies, we're fuck buddies. We hook up from time to time but that's what friends are for, right? Hookups and opinions. And late-night snack runs.

"I think you should just stick to the yellow one you wore on last year's weekend trip."

"And I think you're stupid. I can't wear the same one I wore last year."

"Why not? I've worn the same swim trucks for the past three years," Shika groans, feet dragging as he follows me into my room, closing my door behind himself.

"Because I wore it last year! All the other girls are going to have new ones so I need a new one. I can't be the only one without a new swimsuit," I tell him, ushering him toward the bed.

"You girls have the weirdest rules about clothes," he grumbles, flopping on his back with his feet rested on the floor, and knees bent at the edge of the mattress. "Just wear the yellow one. Your titties look good in it."

"Thanks, Shik. That's what every girl wants to hear," I say sarcastically, rolling my eyes as I dig through my closet for the four or five suits I bought. He throws up a thumbs up, the promise of his eyes being closed and him being half asleep paired with it. What a lazy sass of a friend I have.

"Okay, there's four of them."

"Great," he mumbles, drawing out the word.

I ignore his sarcasm, stripping my clothes off as I decide which one to try on first. "Alright, this one is a black one-piece," I narrate, wiggling myself into the material.

"Hey, here's some crazy shit," Shika says, sitting up right now. "When I look at you, I'll be able to see the style and color of it."

"Hey Shik?" He lets out a hum, the feeling of his eyes coating my back as I check myself out in the mirror. "Stop being a douche."

He rolls my eyes at me, resting his arm on his knee, and his head on his hand. "Do a little spin," he grumbles, a finger on his free hand making a circle in the air. I do as I'm told, slowly spilling so Shikamaru can check the swimsuit out. "One-pieces are for grandmas and women without body confidence. No."

"That's a little harsh."

"Do you want me to sugarcoat it like Ino?"

I grumble out a no, tugging the suit off myself. Shika's eyes stay locked on my nudity, sights ping-ponging alongside my movements until I turn back around. "The next one is also a one-piece - "

"No."

"Shik - "

"I already told you no. You are a hot chick with a hot body. Show it off or else my weekend will be a waste."

"No, it won't be a waste. You can googly eye Ino or Tenten or Hinata or Sakura," I point out, flipping between which of the remaining two to try on next.

"Ino would pretty much be incest, Tenten scares me, Sakura has too much attitude, and Hinata doesn't have enough attitude," he explains, rolling his eyes at me again. I swear, one of these days I'm going to poke his eyes out.

"Alright, the third is a string bikini, it's powder blue and I think it makes my ass look good," I ramble, tying the strings the best I can alone. "What do you think?" I ask, doing another slow turn.

"No," he pushes out, shifting his position as he adjusts his pants. "You look..."

"Hot?"

"Easy."

"Easy?!" I yelp, crossing my arms across my chest as I glare at Shikamaru. "I'm not easy!"

"I didn't say you were! I just said that... you look easy," he mumbles the last three words, eyes locked on my chest as he adjusts himself again. "Are you easy?"

"No! What the hell, Shik?"

"You should be... easy. Like... right now. For me."

"I asked you over to pick a swimsuit, not for a fuck," I grumble, slowly walking towards him. "This isn't picking a swimsuit," I continue, using my knee to push his open before sliding between his legs.

"The... the fourth one," he mumbles, fingers curling around the thin material, sliding back and forth as his eyes drink me up.

"You haven't even seen it yet," I complain, crossing my arms over my chest again, trying to hold onto my anger that's being drained by arousal. "How do you know it'll look good?"

"You look good in everything. You look better in nothing, though," Shika tells me, eyes still jumping around as he tugs the flimsy material to the side, leaving me exposed for him to enjoy. "Though, you also look really good in this swimsuit."

"Then I'll wear this one."

"No!" He races out, eyes snapping up to my face, his face scrunched up. "I mean... no, you still look easy."

"Do I look easy or is someone getting a little jealous?" I tease, cupping his chin and forcing him to shake his head yes. "Aw, is Shika worried he's going to lose the 'fuck' benefit of being m buddy?"

"I'm not that shallow," he mumbles, rolling his eyes at me again. "We're friends cause I like being friends. Not because you let me hit it on occasion."

     "Then I'm going to wear the swimsuit."

     "Pack the goddamn swimsuit and I'll set it on fire."

     "Set it on fire and I'll go skinny dipping all weekend."

     "Or," he starts, a single finger slowly cruising through my folds, landing on my clit to rub light circles into it. "I can make you cum and in turn, you wear the fourth swimsuit."

     "Ya alright," I give in, decking down to press a kiss against his lips. Shika's finger pushes into me, lightly curling against my walls as our lips dance against each other. "I have a question." He hums in acknowledgment, sliding kisses up and down my stomach as he curls another finger in me. "Did you only agree to my fashion show so we could fuck?"

     "Oh, ya. I'm not going to get any this weekend so might as well empty out now so I have a little more control while you girls walk around half naked," he admits, a third finger added before he starts thrusting them in and out of me. Shikamaru's tongue slides out, slowly trailing from the string of my bottoms and stopping at the connection string of my top. "Take your top off."

     "Demanding, aren't we?" I mock, tugging on the skippy strings and letting the material tumble to the floor. "You're such a tit guy."

     "I'm an ass guy too," he says, squeezing my butt with his free hand before it jumps up to my breast. He toys with my nipple, rolling it between his fingers as his mouth sucks on the other one. After some time he switches his places, eyes flicker up for a moment. "You take forever," he groans, pulling his touches away from me.

"My bad, two-pump-chump," I grumble, a yelp spilling from me when Shikamaru grabs me. His arms wrap around my legs, tugging me onto the bed. "Shika!" I giggle, back landing against my mattress as he settles between my knees.

"Yes, Pet?" He murmurs, tongue sliding across my inner thigh. I toy with his hair, rubbing my nails gently across his skull, pulling a soft whimper from him. "I hate how well you know me," he groans, undoing the strings of my bikini bottoms, and dropping them on the top left on the floor.

"No, you don't," I tease, dropping my hands down to his shirt, and tugging him up my body before I start pulling it up. Once he's free from his shirt, his necklace hangs between us, dangling in my face. God I swear, I don't know what it is but it's so hot.

"You're not paying attention to me. What a drag, you're not even into it."

"I am," I hum, lifting my hand, and using a finger to toy with our clan pendent. "I'm just getting a little bored with our routine."

"The fuck am I supposed to do with that?" He grumbles, shifting his weight back and forth between the hands pressed next to my head.

"I don't know, you're the genus here, not me."

Shikamaru lets out a long, deep sigh of annoyance, his eyes falling into their 'I look pissed but I'm thinking' look. His brows are pressed together, eyes set forward and slit. "Are your parents home?"

"No."

Silence falls between us again, Shika's eyebrows shifting as the gears in his head turn. "If I blindfold you are you going to lose your shit?"

"We're known as the Shadow Clan. I think I'll be okay with a little bit of darkness."

With that, Shika climbs off of me, his focus shifting through my dresser drawers. He stays silent when he finds my Shinobi band, carefully tying it around my eyes before whispering in my ear. "I'll be right back. Just chill."

I do as I'm told, relaxing in bed as I wait for him to return. It doesn't take long for his aura to fill my room again, my curiosity sparked by what he'll do. "What do you have planned, Mr Genus?"

"If I told you," he starts, the feeling of his breath sliding over my pussy startling me a bit. "It would ruin the plan, Miss I'm Getting Bored." My thighs are gripped, being tugged further apart. "Make sure you tell me if you're not good."

"I know, Shik."

"Just making sure," he mutters, brushing kisses against my thighs again. As the kisses roll around my skin, I'm slowly lulled, the gentleness of Shikamaru threatening to put me to sleep.

The sound of a click fills my senses with the feeling of heat licking at my thighs. "What the fuck, Shikamaru!" I yelp shoving his hand away.

"Is that a 'surprised' fuck or a 'I don't like that' fuck?" His voice is followed by soft clinking. The sound is followed by something chilled pressed to the spot previously accompanied by some kind of flame.

"Surprised fuck," I murmur, shivers running up my spine as the chilliness melts, dripping down my skin. It's an ice cube, isn't it? And the click and flame combo was Shika's lighter. What a smart but bored man.

"Mmm, good," he mutters, dropping the ice cub, making them clink against each other again. His tongue slides across my leg, lapping up the water left behind. "Is this exciting enough, Miss Bored?"

"Yes, Sir."

He hums again, climbing up my body. "Alright, you needy girl. I'm going to rest in you until you're worked up enough cause you're too much work."

"Lair, you just want to feel me pulse around you," I tease, my hands crawling down his body. Shikamaru has stripped since I've been blinded, sparking my excitement even more.

His necklace taps against my skin as he moves, the feeling of his lips mapping out his slow climb. "So what if I do? We're doing this because - "

"Hey, Sweetie? Are you home?" My mother's voice rings out, pulling a disappointed sigh from the both of us.

"You need to move out," he grumbles, tugging the headband off my eyes as he crawls off of me. "For now," he starts, mouth clinging to my throat, sucking on my skin as hard as he can. "We're going to greet your mom, excuse ourselves for lunch, and then we're going to continue our new game at my place," he finishes before sucking on the same spot, promising to leave a dark bruise on my neck.

     "Shik," I whine, knotting my hands around his ponytail before I try to pull his lips off me. "You're going to leave a bruise."

     "Ya, that's the point," he grumbles, his tone not matching the smile being pressed against my skin.

     "So much for not being jealous," I tease, managing to pull Shikamaru off me, a loud pop following the loss of his suction.

———————————

     "Nara-Chan!" Neji calls, waving at me as his squad and him walk towards our squad. "You look... good," he mutters, eyes jumping over me before he gives me a closed-eyed smile, a soft pink dusting his cheeks.

It's an open secret among our generation that Neji has started forming a bit of a crush on me. With the aftermath of the war, neither one of us has had the time to move the relationship past playful flirting. Though, hopefully, after this weekend that won't be the case anymore. The soft rumor of Neji asking me out filtering around helping that.

Every year, the twelve of us have taken a weekend away from the village to go do something other than work. It usually ends up being all of us camping near a river or lake and just spending the weekend relaxing. We're doing that again this year, hence picking out a swimsuit yesterday with Shika.

"Hey, Nej," I greet, returning his wave as he settles in front of me. "Are you excited for the trip?" He hums a yes, eyes not-so-secretly climbing my form again. His eyebrows scrunch when he gets further up my body, making me a bit concerned. Is there food or something on my shirt?

"Hello," Shikamaru's voice rings out as my eyes jump down, checking for a stain or leftover crumbs from the chips Choji and I shared. "What's up, Neji?" He asks, stopping next to me as he greets our friend. Shika's hand jumps up, tapping against my neck before his focus shifts back to the pleasantries Neji and him are sharing.

My eyes flutter towards a smug Shik, cockiness waving off of him. Why the hell was Neji looking at me so weird? Why did Shikamaru tap my neck?... oh.

Heat blooms across my face as I remember the dark hickey present on my neck. The very dark and very big bruise Shikamaru left behind yesterday.

"Anyway," Neji says, tugging me out of my thoughts and embarrassment. "Do you want to walk with me, Nara-Chan?"

"Yes," I rush out quickly, the heat on my face now from being flustered instead of embarrassed. "I... um... yes, I would like to walk with you," I correct, keeping my tone soft and even this time.

"Great," Neji says, sending me another smile. "I'm going to go greet the others. I'll come find you when we're ready to go, alright?"

"Alright," I murmur, smiling back at him. My eyes trail after Neji, watching him walk away to greet the rest of my squad and his cousin's squad that just showed up.

When my eyes shift back to Shikamaru, who's gloomy, arms crossed over his chest, and a glare shot toward Neji. I swear if he was any moodier a storm cloud would form over his head. "You're walking with Neji instead of me?" He groans, the heat of his glare still stuck on the other man.

"Ya. You're walking with Choji anyway. Why do you care?"

"I don't!" He snaps out, his anger pointed toward me instead of Neji. "Okay, maybe I do," he grumbles, eyes softening as he rolls them at me. "You're pretty blind, do you know that?"

"Why? Because I have more friends than just you?" I tease, laughing at his shocked face as I walk away to greet Shino's squad.

———————————

     I nod along to the story Tenten is telling me, half paying attention as I look at the scenery. Most of the girls have switched to being carried, not because we're tired but because we're lazy and the guys all have a complex of wanting to be better than the others. So, Lee is carrying Tenten, Kiba is carrying Hinata, Shika is carrying Ino, and Neji is carrying me. Naruto offered to carry Sakura but that ended with him getting a bruise or two.

     "So ya, I packed two swimsuits cause the guys are no help," Tenten grumbles, rolling her eyes before she playfully glares at Neji.

     "If it makes you feel any better, Shikamaru wasn't much help picking out my swimsuit either," I tell her, the both of us giggling at the guys' incompetence. "I think you should go with the red one though. You always look good in red."

     "Alright! Break time!" Shino's voice rings out, paired with a hand clap. The bug shinobi - like always - has declared himself in charge because he's 'older and wiser' than the rest of us. The real reason he's in charge is because Neji doesn't want to put up with Naruto and Shikamaru is too lazy to do it, but none of us are going to tell him that.

     We all settle to the side of the path, a few of the guys decking into the forest for a pee break. "Are you ready to get down?" Neji asks, his head tilting backward to look at me.

     "Ya, I should probably stretch my legs and give you a break," I answer, wiggling around on his back. He bends down a bit, shorting my jump off him. "Alright, Nej-man," I chirp, stretching myself out. "How much longer until we're to the spot?"

     "I would say an hour. Maybe two depending on if we stop again or how many... issues Naruto has," He says, stressing the word 'issues' as his eyes bounce toward the blonde boy.

     "That's not too bad," I mumble, sinking to the ground to sit under one of the trees. I rest my head against the bark of it, my eyes falling closed to give them a break from the sun.

     "Nara-Chan?"

     "Neji?" I hum, slowly opening my eyes again.

     Since I've closed my eyes, Neji has pulled out a water bottle. The top off and wrapped up in his hand. "When was the last time you drank water?"

     "Uh..." I murmur, having to take a second to figure out the answer. "I don't know. Before we left I think."

     Neji lets out a disapproving hum, paired with an equally disapproving look. "We have been out in the sun and the heat all day. You need to be drinking water."

"It's fine. When I'm thirty I will. It's not that big of a deal."

"Yes, it is. Dehydration is a big deal and not something I want you to suffer with," he lectures, sinking to kneel in front of me. "Now, open your mouth Nara-Chan," Neji says, his hand resting under my chin, tipping my head up. Reluctantly I snap my mouth open, eyeing the barely older man. He tips his water bottle, water-falling the liquid into my mouth.

"See? Isn't that better?" He mutters, his eyes locked on my neck again as he sets the bottle down. Neji's eyes shift, locking in mine. When I try to break the staring contest, he uses his hold on my face to put it back in place. "I'm waiting for an answer."

"Oh... um, ya. That's better," I finally answer, my breathing suddenly feeling more labored. Thoughts that would turn Neji red flicker through my mind for a moment. I guess Lee wasn't lying when he said his friend was planning to focus on forming our relationship this weekend.

"Good, now please excuse me," Nej says, squeezing my face gently before dropping his hold on me. "I will be back," he mutters, packing his water bottle back in his bag before disappearing into the trees.

"What the hell was that?" Ino shrieks, her sudden presence next to startling me.

"I don't know," I answer, my voice pitched and mind running wild.

"I don't either. What I do know is that Shikamaru is pissed off again," she tells me, shrugging towards the small circle of Shika, Shino, and Kiba a couple of paces away.

Ino is right. Shikamaru's eyes are locked on me, sight intense as he stares at me, occasionally glances at the spot Neji disappeared from. His arms are crossed too, jaw locked, and the gears in his head turning again. I was kidding when I was poking fun at him for being jealous. I'm starting to think it's not a joke anymore.

Dear Lord, this weekend isn't going to play out smoothly, is it?

———————————————————————

[remyfire]

Thinking about Louise and Trapper this morning got my mind racing and I had a scenario come to mind that I don't think I have the time to turn into a fanfic, but I wanted to share it here anyway in case anyone else enjoys it.

CW: A brief but explicit description of sex.

Trapper postwar sneaks a photo of him and Hawkeye home with him and tries to keep it hidden from Louise. I feel like in whatever verse this would be, Trapper probably wrote to his daughters more about Daddy's Friend Hawkeye than mentioning him much to Louise in the few letters he sent home specifically to her. Maybe he wrote about Hawkeye quite a bit initially, then suddenly cut to never mentioning him to Louise, even conveniently ignoring any time she might've asked about That Surgeon Friend Of Yours while he wrote around the question in his replies home.

Trap doesn't talk about Hawkeye once he gets home, not a word. He's so frigid and tense, rigid too, only really loosens up with the girls. He's intimate with Louise once or twice, but it's few and far between and he makes excuses whenever Louise initiates sex.

But there's one night—something big, maybe the anniversary of Henry's death—when Trapper slides over to her side of the bed, quietly but passionate seducing her with a growing fervor, but they get as far as both of them being naked before she realizes he's not actually hard and when she points it out, he's embarrassed, pulls back sharply and tries to just roll over and go to sleep.

But Louise is undeterred. She wraps herself around his back with all her limbs, kisses and nips at his shoulder and throat, and when she finally feels him starting to relax, she asks him what he wants tonight, that she'll do anything she can. And it takes a few minutes for Trapper to get the words out—his tongue is too thick in his mouth and when she puts her hand over his heart, it's racing so fast that she's surprised he hasn't passed out. But eventually he finds a clumsy way to say that he wants her to fuck him. She asks if he means riding him and he says no, reiterates, he wants her to fuck him. And god, they've never done that before. Trapper's always taken her with such feverish passion, loved being inside of her.

Her silence makes him anxious and he begins to pull away again, but Louise blurts, "On your back or your front?" and Trapper holds his breath for a long few seconds, waiting for her to change her mind, before he rolls onto his hands and knees. He's up there maybe a second before his front half crumples and he buries his face in his pillow, ass still up in the air.

It takes Louise a few minutes to figure things out. She's got to be a sight, she thinks, her tight barrel curls wildly mussed and flying everywhere, completely naked but for her wide-open white robe, probably looks like the world's weirdest ghost rooting through the pantry in the dead of night. But she had plenty of needs of her own while Trapper was away, and with two little girls who always needed her attention and no contact with her own family for personal reasons (she hates their guts, as you do), it wasn't like she could go trawling the bars and bringing joes home to fuck her. So when she gets back to the bedroom, she tentatively rubs at his hole with a little bit of vegetable oil and when Trapper whines into the pillow—whines, a sound she's barely ever heard from him—she drips a little more onto her fingers, then cautiously begins stretching him out like he often had to do with her in those first months of marriage when she had trouble adjusting to his size.

I'm imagining Louise doesn't own a dildo because she has no idea how to get a hold of one and especially doesn't want to ask the wrong person and have her looked down on in some way as a mother—she already feels like she must be the worst kind of wife, thanks to Trap's occasional bitter treatment of her for one reason or another over the years, and like hell is she gonna risk somebody saying she's a shit mother or a dangerous influence—but after she has Trap prepped, she pulls out her hairbrush that's served her many a night and fucks him with the handle.

Trapper gasps and moans for her in ways that he rarely does, and when she quietly asks, "Still good, John?" he freezes, then lifts his head just enough to say, "Call, call me Trap, okay?" And it's a nickname that Louise has always been wary of, but what is she going to say, no? So she does. And the moment she whispers that name, Trapper begins crying into the pillow, is still weeping when Louise gets a hand around his cock and jerks him off until he comes.

And I'm imagining Trapper pulls Louise close, curls up in a little ball as he buries his face in her neck like a child hiding from the world, and she...is pretty sure she understands quite a bit more about her husband than she did an hour ago. So when she quietly asks, "I bet you miss your friend very much. Hawkeye, yeah?" he sniffles, begins to cry again, but gentler this time. And it's halting and coaxing, asking gentle questions that confirm her suspicions—that this man was her husband's lover in Korea, that he's the only person who kept Trapper sane—and every time he goes quiet with fear at what her next response might be, she simply keeps rubbing his back and talking about whatever comes to mind, anything at all to do with Hawk and with Trap's time spent with him. They're still talking when the sun rises. It's the most words he's said to her in literal months.

Hawk finally gets a letter from Trapper two weeks later, written on Louise's stationary and with the pen she'd pushed into Trap's hand. And at the end of it, Hawkeye gets an open invitation to drop by Boston the second he gets home, signed by both of them.

[lowkeyrobin]

I have TWO ideas for requests oh ho ho

--foolish x reader (platonic or romantic), dancer!reader teaches foolish how to dance? I got inspired bc he just posted abt being in Texas

--tommyinnit x reader (leaning platonic but can be romantic), reader talks his ear off about how cool Stonehenge is bc of the latest vlog (because let's be real, ancient monumental architecture is insanely cool)

ooooo honestly I would've done the foolish one but I don't know shit about dance 😭🙏 going to tommy on this one LMAO kdkdnsnsns ; also this kinda turned into alien believer/slight conspiracy theorist reader so I'm so sorry LMFAO

TOMMYINNIT ; stonehenge nerd

summary ; you yap his ear off about stonehenge

warnings ; language & conspiracy theories

genre ; fluff

word count ; 445

masterlist

Tommy and a few of his friends - Tubbo, Becky, and Jack - had just come back from a road trip to Stonehenge, something you'd had a little fixation on since the beginning of time. So, when he came back and told you all about it, you instantly went on a rant about it.

He loved the fact you could talk for ages about things you loved, and luckily, he was drained of his social battery and wanted to hear you talk him to a point of relaxation. He sprawls out on the couch, resting his head in your lap, his hoodie used as his source of warmth. You run your fingers through his blonde hair as you rant on and on, entertaining him as he feels a tingling sensation run through his head and spine.

"And the coolest part is like, how did they get there? No human, especially so long ago and with the lack of technology, could've moved those giant rocks like that! I really think it's aliens, because one, who else could've done it, and two, we aren't alone out here! I hate how everyone's convinced that we're the only humanoid species, other than monkies, I guess, out in the universe. This galaxy is like billions of miles of open space, and there's like a trillion planets and microplanets and moons!"

He lightly smiles, comforted and amused by your passion to try and figure out how Stonehenge came to be. You take a deep breathe before you continue, having run out of air in your lungs as you spoke.

"And like, I know they're preserved and stuff, but how the fuck where they able to stand like that on their own for thousands, maybe even millions of years? You'd think a bad thunderstorm would fuck that up, right?"

He nods, burying his face into your stomach area, getting comfortable. You dim the lamp next to you, letting him close his eyes.

"It's just so trippy, like pyramids were a hundred percent humans, these fucking mile high stone cones, but Stonehenge? No, that's fucking aliens."

You look back down, seeing his chest lightly drifting up and down as he breathes. He's now drifted to sleep, his arms lazily draped around your waist.

You lightly smile, seeing he's been calmed by your enthusiastic words as per usual, helping him rest after a long, exciting day.

"G'night, big man"

༘⋆₊ ⊹★🔭๋࣭ ⭑⋆｡˚༘⋆₊ ⊹★🔭๋࣭ ⭑⋆｡˚༘⋆₊ ⊹★🔭๋࣭ ⭑⋆｡˚

"Y/n, I had the weirdest dream last night"

"What about?" You hum.

"You and Joe Biden were driving me back up to Stonehenge to summon the aliens that made it, and we were going to sacrifice Tubbo"

"Oh!"

[the-iceni-bitch]

Watch as Our World Has Begun

Relationship: Jake Jensen x Ari Levinson (bear and cubby, NLLYL AU)

Words: ~2.6k

Summary: Their first time together is life changing.

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (m/m sex, anal fingering, lots of foreplay, unprotected anal sex but they both got tested beforehand, size kink, dirty talk), established relationship, first time together, so much fluff, declarations of love, all of the feelings, SMUT!! 18+ ONLY!!

A/N: I LOVE THEM! Oh my god, I’ve missed them so much. I actually wrote this all in one sitting and I hope you guys enjoy seeing our boys again!

I am no longer doing taglists so if you want to stay up to date on all my fics, follow my sideblog @the-iceni-library and turn on notifications!

Jake’s hands were shaking when he finished washing the last dish. He stared at the sink, trying to figure out what to do about the bear who was looming behind him.

Tonight was the night. He’d packed an overnight bag and everything. As soon as Ari said he wanted to make Jake dinner at his penthouse it had been like a clock started ticking down to when he was finally going to have his massive boyfriend inside him. It was about time, too. Five dates and two months later and he was ready to explode.

It helped that you had been there to hype Jake up. In fact, you’d been trying to get him underneath Ari pretty much since you got back from your honeymoon and we’re very annoyed that your efforts hadn’t paid off until now. But you were still there for Jake, you’d even managed to convince him to get waxed. He had never thought he would be the dude to get all of the hair in his taint ripped out, but you managed to convince him to do the weirdest shit. It did feel kind of nice, though.

“Baby.” Ari chuckled when Jake jumped about a foot in the air when he pressed his chest to his back, hushing the man when he made a soft sound of need and kissing his temple. “Do you wanna watch some TV or go get ready for bed?”

“Bed!” Jake blushed when he said it very enthusiastically, grinning sheepishly when Ari turned him around and gave him that gorgeous smile that made him melt. “I mean…”

“Oh, I know what you mean, cubby.” Ari cupped the younger man’s jaw and kissed him softly as he began to walk him back towards the bedroom. “Keep breathing, baby.”

“Whoops.” Jake giggled and blushed even more, moaning when Ari pressed his giant hand against the small of his back until he had to stand on his tiptoes while his man deepened the kiss. “Although, if you’re gonna kiss me like this, my lack of breath is not totally my fault.”

“Ugh, I love when you get sassy.” Ari slapped Jake’s ass with a playful growl before tossing the blonde onto the bed and crawling on top of him.

Neither of them could say anything when Ari smashed his lips to Jake’s and groaned, every inch of their bodies touching while their tongues met and Jake buried his hands in the older man’s hair. Jake couldn’t stop whimpering when Ari gripped his hips and rolled his body against his, sucking on Ari’s tongue and pulling on his hair as he wrapped his legs around that thick waist that spread into even thicker shoulders. Ari let out a deep purr that made Jake’s eyes roll all the way back, and it just went on when Jake whined so prettily he thought of going to buy a ring right then and there. But instead he just ducked lower to lick Jake’s throat.

Jake needed him so much, needed to feel his bare skin. He pushed Ari back just long enough to yank the man’s shirt over his head and gasp before Ari’s tongue was in his mouth again.

“Jesus Christ.” Jake groaned when Ari bit his jaw and he looked down at his bare torso, the golden tanned skin and the dark hair and the muscles. “How the fuck are you even real?”

“Look who’s talking.” Ari grinned at Jake when the blonde pushed his hair out of his face while he leaned over him, starting to slide his fingers under the edge of the younger man’s shirt so slowly. “With this tiny waist and your perky ass? You’re a little wet dream, cub.”

“You mean this ass?” Jake was finally starting to feel more relaxed, laughing softly when he rolled over and popped his ass up in the air so Ari could smack it again.

“You’re fucking adorable.” Ari leaned down and bit Jake’s ear, pushing the t-shirt over his baby’s head and starting to kiss his way down his spine until he reached the small of his back and paused. “Oh my god, baby… you have a tramp stamp?”

“Oh shit!” Just like that Jake’s nerves were back, trying to roll back over unsuccessfully while Ari stared at the tattoo he had completely forgotten he had until this moment. “It’s nothing!”

“Well now I’m extremely interested.” Ari laughed and nipped at Jake’s hip when the man groaned and buried his face in the pillows, furrowing his brow while he took in the intricate lettering that covered the small of Jake’s back. “It’s beautiful. I don’t recognize the language, what is it?”

“Elvish.” Jake’s voice was muffled when he kept his face buried in the pillow. Leave it to his nerdy impulses to derail what was supposed to be some mind blowing sex, he knew he should have gotten the thing removed.

“Uh-huh, and what does it say?” Ari kissed the tattoo lovingly and hummed against Jake’s skin when his baby huffed out a frustrated breath. “C’mon cub, I’m not gonna leave it alone.”

“Fine.” Jake looked at his boyfriend over his shoulder and blushed beet red, rubbing his eyes and sighing before going into the ridiculous details of his stupid tattoo. “Just remember that I was drunk when I got it. Have you seen or read the Lord of the Rings?” Jake spluttered when Ari shook his head and had to blink a few times to recenter himself. “Okay, well… we’ll fix that later. Anyway, there’s a riddle to get into the mine of Moria and I thought it would be hilarious to put the riddle right above my ass… it says ‘Speak friend and enter.’”

The look on Ari’s face was unreadable and it made Jake want to hide under the covers and never leave. Then his man started turning red, and then his body started shaking, and all of a sudden he was laughing uncontrollably and Jake couldn’t help but join him.

“Stop laughing! Ari!” Jake’s sides started hurting he was wheezing so hard, but he loved the sound of Ari’s laugh more than anything in the world. “My twenties were kinda crazy, I would do anything on a dare!”

“Aww, baby!” Ari guffawed and rubbed his cheek into the small of Jake’s back before climbing back up the man’s body and kissing his cheek. “I love you so fucking much, oh my god.”

“You… what?!” Jake felt like he had emotional whiplash with all the left turns this night kept taking. He had not expected to get the first declaration of this man’s love for him after revealing his ill advised tattoo. “You love me?”

“I mean… yeah.” Ari’s gaze was soft when he finally managed to take a deep breath, turning Jake over and resting his forehead against the blonde’s while he licked his lips. “I love you a lot. Like… endgame love.”

“Oh…” And just like that Jake felt like he was floating on air, his heart thumping against his ribs so hard he was worried they were going to break. “I love you too.”

“Yeah?” Ari kissed Jake tenderly and sighed when he nodded, holding him close and sliding his tongue between his lips while they started grinding against each other again. “Say it again, baby.”

“I love you.” Jake moaned when Ari sucked a bruise against his jaw and reached to grab the lube from the bedside table. “I love you, Ari.”

“I love you, Jake.” Ari started undoing Jake’s jeans when the younger man whined with need, biting his collarbone gently when he felt Jake’s fingers working at his fly in turn. “I fucking love you.”

Jake arched his hips and panted desperately while Ari tugged off his jeans and boxer briefs, pushing Ari’s pants off as well and keening when he felt the heavy weight of the older man’s cock resting against his hip. He already knew this was it for him, he was a goner for this man. And he’d never been happier.

“Baby, you’re so smooth, Jesus.” Ari growled against Jake’s cheek when he lubed up his fingers and slid them between Jake’s legs, rubbing their noses together when Jake hitched a knee over his hip to open himself up more. “You do all that for me baby?”

“Mmhm, yeah… ooooooh my god.” Jake’s breath hitched when just one of Ari’s thick fingers slipped inside his clenching hole, his head tilting back so the older man could lick and suck at his throat. “Ohmyfuckingjesuschrist…”

“Yeah, that’s so good, Jake.” Ari cupped the back of Jake’s head while he kept stretching him open, pressing gentle kisses over his neck and jaw while the blonde whined. “Right there?”

“Yes… ah shit!” Jake was going to lose his mind and they hadn’t even gotten to the second finger yet. But Ari was already rubbing his prostate while his thumb teased his taint and it was utterly unfair how good this man was at sex.

“Shhh, relax. Breathe for me, cubby.” Ari slid in a second finger and smiled against Jake’s skin when he felt the younger man’s cock twitch against his thigh. “Oh honey, gonna make me addicted to making you feel good, that look on your face. You’re so goddamn perfect.”

Jake couldn’t answer him, he could only moan stupidly when Ari pressed his thumb into his taint harder while he scissored his fingers. If this was how he was feeling from just prep, how was it going to be once Ari was inside him? He couldn’t dwell on that thought, though, because suddenly there was a third finger stretching him wide and holy fucking shit the man’s fingers were thicker than most of the cocks Jake had taken in his life.

Ari sucked on that sensitive spot behind Jake’s ear and the man’s entire body arched off the bed. The blonde started babbling mindlessly, begging Ari for more, telling him he was ready. He was practically sobbing, he needed his bear so bad.

“Please… oh god…” Jake shook and bit his lips when Ari curled his fingers one last time, turning his head so he could rub his nose against a bearded cheek while he whimpered pathetically. “Ari…”

“You ready for me, Jake?” Ari rolled until he was laying on top of Jake, smiling when the blonde nodded as he pulled his fingers out of him.

The two of them gazed deeply into each other’s eyes while Ari pushed Jake’s knees up towards his chest with just one massive hand while the other smeared lube all over his throbbing cock. Neither of them said anything about it, but they were both unbelievably happy that they had gotten tested before tonight so a condom wasn’t needed. All they wanted was to feel every inch of each other with no barriers, and now they would.

Ari’s eyes were intense as he lined himself up with Jake’s hole, his broad chest pressing against Jake’s knees while he swallowed Jake’s breaths. He pushed his hips forward slowly, screwing his eyes closed and letting out a low, guttural noise when the tip of his cock caught on Jake’s rim for just a second before sliding inside. The way Jake clutched at his shoulders and choked only made things more intense, the two of them holding on for dear life as their bodies joined.

“Oh god, baby…” Ari shuddered when his hips met the backs of Jake’s thighs, grinning like a fool and cupping the younger man’s face in his hands while he breathed deeply. “You feel so fucking good, Jake, you okay?”

“Yeah…”

Jake was more than okay. He ran his hands up Ari’s shoulders until they were tangled in his hair, gasping into his mouth when he began giving small thrusts of his hips. The movements Ari made were smooth and sensuous, deep strokes that seemed designed to make Jake feel everything. It should be unnatural that someone could move like that, that someone so large could be so deliberate and delicate with someone else. But there was very little that was natural about Ari Levinson.

“There ya go… look at you, baby.” Ari held Jake’s head so tenderly as his movements grew more pronounced, kissing the corner of his mouth while he dug his knees into the mattress and leaned into it. “Tell me how you’re feeling, cub, lemme hear it.”

“I feel… feel so good… so fucking good, Ari.” Jake almost choked on his own tongue when Ari ground into him deep, pulling on the older man’s hair and arching his back to meet Ari’s thrusts. “Oh god, you’re so deep, don’t stop.”

“Never.” Ari leaned back for just a second, letting Jake wind his legs around his waist before pressing their bodies together again and kissing the younger man’s collarbone. “I’ll never stop, Jake. I love you, tell me you love me.”

“Love you.” Jake whimpered when Ari gave a pointed thrust of his hips, his wide stretched hole fluttering around the older man’s thick cock when he started getting sloppy and desperate with his movements. “Love you so fucking much, oh my fucking god.”

Jake didn’t think he would ever be able to stop saying it. His life was forever changed from this moment onwards. There was no picture of his future he could come up with that didn’t have Ari in it, that didn’t involve him underneath this man as often as possible and giving himself over to him completely. He felt like his cock was in his throat, like his guts were getting constantly rearranged in addition to his heart.

Ari moved his face back to Jake’s as he started thrusting faster, his firm abdomen rubbing against Jake’s leaking cock while he rested his forehead against the blonde’s. He kept his eyes fixed on Jake’s as he kissed him deeply, smiling against his lips and groaning when he felt Jake starting to clench. His thumbs ran over Jake’s cheeks lovingly, his breath leaving him in a low grunt when Jake looked at him with those big blue eyes as he started moving more vigorously when he felt Jake’s body getting tighter.

“Give it to me, Jake.” Ari growled when Jake squeezed his waist with his lithe thighs, his lips insistent while he punched his cock into his boy’s tight little hole. “Oh fuck, I wanna feel you come for me, cubby. Please, baby.”

The sound of Ari begging him pushed Jake over the edge with a shout, his cum exploding out of the tip of his cock when Ari drove against his prostate and made his body arch off the bed. His eyes rolled back in his skull and he threw his head back as he sobbed through his orgasm, Ari’s lips on his throat and his groan making his entire body vibrate while he kept clenching and fluttering around Ari’s fat cock. Jake moaned when Ari started to swell inside him, wrapping his legs even tighter around Ari’s waist as the older man nipped at his bottom lip.

“I want it, bear.” Jake licked Ari’s lips and brushed their noses together. “Come inside me.”

“Whatever you want, cubby.” Ari ground his hips deep and pressed his palms against the mattress on either side of Jake’s head, grunting as his movements started to stutter before he started to tense up. “Always whatever you want.”

Ari tossed his head back and practically roared as his cum flooded Jake’s ass, his eyes screwing shut while he vibrated and pumped his seed as deep as possible. That was a sight Jake decided he was never going to get enough of, the way Ari’s body rolled and his tongue flicked over his lips as he made those delicious noises perhaps the most beautiful thing he’d experienced in his life. Jake smiled and huffed out a breath when Ari collapsed on top of him, laughing when his bear growled pleasantly and nuzzled into his throat.

“Mmm, that was incredible.” Jake sighed and let himself melt into the bed, purring when Ari wrapped his arms around him. “I think you may have broken my brain a little bit.”

“Yeah? Well I love that.” Ari grinned when he gently kissed Jake’s lips, chuckling when he rolled so Jake was laying on top of him. “And I didn’t even need to solve that riddle.”

[obsessedwrhys]

Fusdifuufdtyffdykfucuppivsauwerjttjrjth your lorsan angst headcanons were so good I’m going insane. May I request some comfort headcanons for him now (platonic preferably but do whatever inspires you most) a crumb of affection for the bunny boy please!!!!! Thank you in advance!

|| LORSAN PLATONIC HEADCANONS ||

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ fluff/comfort, only an ounce of angst, reader is gn!! (I'm happy to hear you liked the angst post 😚💕)

Friends with this man? Prepare yourself because this friendship is anything but normal.

He would definitely steal snacks from people just for you two to enjoy it later. It's literally proven canon in the game.

To no surprise, ya'll are always bickering with each other. The results being it hard for you guys to ever finish an important task.

There was this one time you guys argued about whether or not if pineapple belonged on pizza.

It's a timeless topic and it gets brought up every now and then.

This also leads to late night conversations, sometimes you guys dont even talk but just enjoy the presence of the other person. Most of the time you fall asleep together because of the calmness in the air.

You know this friendship ain't complete if ya'll aren't talking about your favourite movies, shows or music and sharing it.

"Lorsan look at this character I like, aren't they hot?!"

"Ew 😐"

Expect a lot of surprise visits, like you could be on an adventure to do something important and he would pop out of nowhere with a huge smile on his face. But you don't complain much about it because the sight of him makes you relax.

Just being around him makes you feel like you could be your true self.

Plus, half of the time he arrives just in time to save you from a fight.

Ya'll would definitely hold hands, you know those things where people hold hands and they're just swinging it front and back so happily? Yeah that's the type of thing you two do.

He just loves it, he doesn't care if it's childish, there's nothing wrong with taking care of your inner child.

Of course talking about your feelings is important. If he needs someone to comfort him, you're the first he goes to. The same applies to you.

You always prepare his favourite strawberry candy when he comes over to rant about something, sometimes you don't even need to say anything but just take it out of your pocket and hand it to him.

He appreciates you very much.

The two of you went through some really dark times but with each other's support, you both survived. Whether it be saying dumb jokes or crying late at night together. One wouldn't have made it far without the other.

Respecting the other person's boundaries? Check ✅

He knows all your fears and you know all his. This just leads to an endless circle of pranks.

Lorsan once used Bryon to shield you from approaching him with a frog and you can imagine the level of chaos of the situation.

"Bryon save me!!"

"Uh... did I intrude at a wrong time?"

"COME BACK HERE LORSAN ITS RIBBIT TIME!!"

You guys would have the most weirdest inside jokes that everybody else gets concern at the most random things ya'll crack up at.

There was this one time you both just started laughing when Lyca expressed her frustration about losing the package of peanuts she needed to send to Granny Dahnie.

Trust that she was not pleased.

Brushing each other's hair? Also check ✅

Wearing each other's clothes? Triple check ✅

He doesn't care if it's a hat or a whole t-shirt, he's wearing it and you can't stop him 😈

He loves you dearly but bro can't remember your birthday even if his life was on the line.

Your friendship with him is literally "bae" but platonically.

I'm talking joking flirting with each other but the moment someone says how cute you two would look together, one's gagging out of disgust and the other is glaring the shit out of the person who said it.

So never break his heart because who else is he gonna be his ride or die when it comes to getting into trouble? ☹.

[nburkhardt]

Steve has seen many weird things in his life, the last three years especially. Seven foot tall monsters, demo dogs, a girl with super powers, Russians under the mall. Traumatizing stuff, but over all weird stuff. Before all that happened, he thought the weirdest things would be little kids eating flowers or Munson climbing on tables at lunchtime.

But this? This takes the cake.

~~~~~

Vecna is defeated and done, burnt to a crisp with a shit ton of holes in his body thanks to Nancy’s sawed off shot gun. Before they leave the body, Nancy takes one last shot to his head just in case.

They’re walking back to leave when they notice all the dead demo-bats and… and a body.

Seeing Eddie dead on the ground hurts, makes their success bitter and now what do they do? All of them were supposed to make it out, defeat the evil and then celebrate all together. They can’t do that now. Whatever good feeling they had is gone, evaporated into the air with only a numbing sensation left in its place.

Getting out of the upside down with a dead body takes work but they make it happen. They refuse to leave him behind, they’ll bury him and make sure everyone knows that Eddie Munson was a good person. He helped save people, NDA be damned. Nancy is already swearing up and down that whatever cover up will include Eddie in good light.

They won but they lost and none of them know what to do now.

~ Two Weeks Later ~

Saving the world only feels good in the moment. That adrenaline rush feels incredible, but it never lasts long enough for Steve. This time especially with losing someone he thought maybe they could be friends.

It’s even worse because he has to work. He helped save the world and yet he’s back at his pointless job, putting tapes on shelves for a living and listening to mom’s complain about their kids grabbing pg13 movies without them knowing, only finding out when it’s playing and then “….skin showing! They are only twelve! I cannot believe you would let just anyone rent this, this is not responsible. You should be ashamed of yourselves!”

Steve blinks at her, bored and not ashamed at all. Since, “Ma’am, you rented this out. It says so on the computer here.”

She only scruffs at him before turning around to march back out of the store with the door slamming shut behind her. Leaving him alone, still bored out of his mind. It’s the one day where Robin isn’t working with him, leaving him to do both stocking and working the register. It’s made worse by people’s complaints, weird preverts and kids trying to rent rated r tapes.

“Save the world, still gotta work a nine to five” he mumbles to himself and dropping his head against the counter with a groan. He has another few hours of this, it’s already a long day.

“Ya know, maybe you should put that on a shirt, it’s a great conversation starter”

Steve jolts up with wide eyes because that’s a voice he hasn’t heard in two weeks, can’t hear that voice because the body it belongs to is buried six feet under ground in the goddamn cemetery. He should know because he visited the grave yesterday.

But right in front of him is clearly Eddie Munson with a smirk and still in the goddamn hellfire shirt, leather jacket with his dumb ripped jeans and bullet belt. His face is clean, no trace of bites or even blood. There is something off about him, like he’s fuzzy and not in focus. Which is weird because Steve swore he put contacts in this morning.

“What the fuck?” Is the only thing he can manage to say, he feels frozen staring at the man he grieved, “Munson, what the- you died!”

Eddie cocks his head to the side with a frown and goes to pat his body when the goddamn bell from the door rings and suddenly he just vanishes. Evaporated into thin air.

“No greeting?”

He shakes his head to clear it, maybe- maybe he’s seeing things. Maybe it’s due to only getting three hours of sleep last night, or maybe it’s from lack of water and food today. Hell, maybe it’s from the endless concussions he gets.

“Kid you good?”

“Uh, yeah, yeah- I’m,” he shook his head again before plastering his customer service smile on before looking at the guy in front of him, “I’m good, sorry. How can I help you?”

He pushes the idea of seeing Eddie out of his mind, a quick late rush of customers and one shitty sandwich for his break and he’s done with work for the day.

Not only is it the one day Robin doesn’t work, but it’s dnd night and he still drives Henderson to the Wheelers house. So, he only has time for a quick change of clothes before leaving his house to grab the kid.

Since Mrs. Wheeler insists on feeding him, he ends up sitting in the basement listening to the kids bicker over the game. It’s a nice distraction from the day.

Once he’s back at home, enjoying a hot shower. Singing ‘Gimme! Gimme! Gimme! (A Man After Midnight)’ to himself, taking his time washing his hair

“There's not a soul out there, No one to hear my prayer” he sings out while pushing out the soap in his hair, “gimme, gimme gimme a man after-“

“Midnight!” Another voice joins in and he screams, opening his eyes and everything is blurry since he took his contacts out and with the steam from the water. But that was definitely another voice and not just any voice, but fucking Eddie’s voice. “You got a decent voice, Harrington. Or maybe it’s just that you’re in the shower”

Sliding the shower door, he blinks hard to clear his vision and hopefully see. Then like at work, there’s a fuzzy looking Eddie wearing the same outfit he died in. He’s leaning over with a smirk, “Big Boy, indeed, Harrington”

His eyes widen and he closes the door with a slam, trying his hardest not to slip while freaking the fuck out. “You’re going crazy, that’s it. It’s gotta be, he’s dead and you’re feeling guilty. Eddie Munson is dead and buried, there is no way he’s here and fucking saw my-“

“Oh, I definitely saw you, that nickname was just to make you flush but fuck is it everything now.” Eddie’s voice interrupts him, and it seems closer now but he’s eyes are shut. He’s squeezing his eyes closed while also using one arm to cover it up too. “Aw, come on, big boy! I’ve been trying to get someone- anyone to see me!”

He hears both amusement and desperation in the voice, but he can’t move now. The water is turning cold and he can’t move because he’s going crazy. “Maybe, maybe it’s brain damage! That’s gotta be it”

“Harrington- Steve, I swear on Dustin’s mother. I’m here, like really here. Don’t- I don’t know why, or how, but I am” Eddie’s voice is just desperate now, no trace of amusement. “I’m-“

Steve shakes his head moving his arm away before taking a deep breath and opening his eyes, immediately finding a frown on Eddie’s transparent face. “There’s- there’s no way. You’re just a figment of my imagination- my brain’s way of dealing with your death. I- I wasn’t even your friend.”

He watches as Eddie frowns, nods then just…vanishes.

His sleep schedule has been fucked up since 1983, maybe even before that actually. Having parents that liked to travel and grandparents that wanted to know their only grandchild. Traveling didn’t help his sleep schedule, then 1983 when they trapped and attacked the demogorgon, it became nearly nonexistent.

Tonight is no exception. He’s been tossing and turning for two hours now, it’s nearly three in the morning.

“Okay, before you say anything-“

He bolts upright with a racing heart, looks around and again, there’s a fuzzy transparent Eddie Munson. He’s currently floating at the end of his bed and his face it looks tired. Like he’s the one who can’t sleep, too wired and worried.

“Sorry, sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you…again. But I thought maybe, maybe I could help? You seem restless… which I guess I caused it today but! I can read to you,” he looks around, makes him frown and follows him. Noticing how bare his room is right now, “okay, maybe not read. But I can come up with something! Like like, about this tough king that’s secretly a huge softie and everyone doesn’t know about this side of him. He remembers the tiny details of his friends, or makes sure those who work for him are supported and loved. Everyone in this kingdom-“

He’s slowly pulled under sleep, his eyes slipping shut and the sound of a dead man’s voice makes his racing heart calm down enough for a deep sleep.

The next morning, there’s no Eddie. He chalks up that whole day to his brain being fucked up from all the concussions. There’s absolutely no way he kept seeing and unintentionally talking to Eddie, no way Eddie of all people would talk about him like that to help him fall asleep.

It’s just not possible.

——————

Another day goes by with his fucked up brain conjuring up Eddie, then another and another.

He accepts it after a week passes with Ghost Eddie. Mostly because it’s actually quite nice, once he got used to someone suddenly appearing and vanishing at random times. It became easy enough to actually fully talk to Ghost Eddie, admitting things he wouldn’t say to anyone else. Especially to an alive Eddie Munson, but that one he can’t talk to. So, he’ll take what he can get since talking things out with Ghost Eddie makes sleepless nights nearly nonexistent.

No one knows about it, he can’t bring himself to actually tell them how fucked his brain is now. Too afraid they’ll really think he’s stupid now.

“I’m telling you, that lady is definitely cheating on her husband. I heard her!” Ghost Eddie tells him as Steve is handing over a tape to said apparent cheater.

He doesn’t bother with faking a smile. Because he’s holding back a laugh at Ghost Eddie’s gossip, “Remember to bring this back next Thursday and to have it rewound for us. Have a great day!”

Once the bell jingles, it’s just him in the store with his now ghostly partner. He turns around to face said partner, “Dude, don’t gossip in my ear about the person right in front of me!”

Ghost Eddie rolls his eyes, “Stevie, no one else can hear me. I’m safe from assholes, remember I’m a ghost”

“Ha ha, very funny Munson. But you saying that shit is going to make me laugh and look like the crazy person I already am.” He rolls his own eyes, “I mean, I’m talking to a figment of my imagination right now. Someone heard this I’d be thrown in the loony bin”

“I keep telling you, I’m not a figment of your imagination. I’m really a ghost dude, why can’t you-“

The bell from the door makes him jump, turning to find his friends standing right there.

———

This is totally inspired by a quote from Scooby Doo. Velma telling Shaggy, “there’s no such thing as ghosts” to which Shaggy says back, “well does the ghost know that?” And it made me laugh and thought what if 🤣 SO! We got Ghost!Eddie hanging around Steve.

We’re not going into specifics on how, we’re here for silliness and some angst. If anyone has suggestions on the conversion with his friends, I’m all ears 👀

@i-less-than-three-you @artiststarme

[ih3artkitty]

girl do i have a story to tell you

so as we know q is highkey for the streets. like she be talking to multiple girls at the same time like she gets paid to do so. so anyways she was talking to this one stud named mariah (her tiktok has everything if u rlly want the mess). mind you, mariah wasn't rlly cool with her but q kept like nagging her for facetimes and stuff like that right. so obviously mariah is like trying to back off before it gets too crazy vc obviously something is wrong with q, so she blocks her. that got q upset and i think she started finding mariah on other platforms (crazy work). MIND YOU during all this mariah had a girl that q knew about and q was still trying to get with mariah.

so i think at that point mariah started using the opportunity God gave her and started basically keeping a log of everything going on. building a portfolio of evidence if u will. and yesterday at like...11AM (my time), mariah posted a screenshot/collage of a bunch of things q said to her in private and basically how she acts behind closed doors.

so after mariah posted that pic, a BUNCH of other girls (mainly poc) who talked with q started coming forward about her weird ways basically. it got to the point where mariah went on live so people could air out what they experienced with q. i wouldn't be surprised if it was recorded, but idk where you would find it. during that live, a bunch of girls came forward (a good bit of them being minors) mainly talking about how q would block them for the weirdest of things. like i remember one girl saying she commented on kk harvey and q's little thing (the person said they were cute together) or wtv on live and she got blocked for it shortly after. you know weird shit.

but then it got sooo much worse. more people were coming forward saying q was basically a creep and a freak who always made conversations sexual asf. like in the collage mariah posted, there's a pic of q asking for phone s3x like huh?? and that's bad already but mariah is over 18 so yeah. but MINORS were coming out saying q was doing that to them too. apparently q told a minor that she's gonna "talk her through it" like im sorry what???

another girl came on the live and said q was racist against asian people in particular because she had snapped her earlier this year and q said "you're pretty for an asian girl" (aka the most used microaggression poc women have to deal with).

there's other shit like fatphobia, transphobia, q saying the r word..like this really exploded.

and what's even worse is the thing that got this whole mess started in the first place was bc q was airing out her teammates business to mariah (a total stranger mind you). at this point im pretty sure it's almost confirmed that at least two people being talked about were paige and azzi

there's alot of other weird shit q has done. honorable mention goes to q saying she flirts with her stud friends. which is bad in itself, but then someone said that q and ayanna are roommates so...take with that what you will.

all i know is that q needs to get off the team because she has no place being on the team when she's acting like this behind closed doors.

̩͙꒰ঌ✞໒꒱· ﾟ

when I tell you my jaw was in the fucking floor. That hoe has to be the weirdest person I have ever heard about in my life. I looked up the whole situation last night and to say her ass needs to get kicked off that team is an understatement. Her telling a minor that she would “talk her through it” bitch how fucking sick are you ☠️. I also find it crazy she was talking about Asians when a LITERAL Asian girl is on her team….

I don’t see how some people are so comfortable with telling their “friends” secrets, I put quotations around friends cause I know them girl don’t like her fr, if I was any of them I would beat her ass because I bet you she won’t do that shit again

but thank you for telling me all this shit because I was already looking at her funny because of all the people coming forward and just saying she was a rude person but I know for a fact that hoe is weird. So thank you again 😭

[thewulf]

Hi! Not sure if you accept requests for celebrities but figured I’d send it anyway!!! Would you be able to do a miles tellers reader where they meet in San Diego while he’s filming but she doesn’t recognize him at all and doesn’t know he’s in a relationship and is having issues. But they somehow end up together??

Thank You Kind Stranger || Miles Teller

A/N: This was a fun one! Def made me step out of my comfort zone. Sorry it took so long. I have a class that just started up, so I’ll be posting a bit slower. Hopefully you enjoy 😊

Pairing: Miles Teller x Y/N

Word Count: 5,500+

Stepping out of your apartment you took a deep breathe in, enjoying the salty air you had come to love. You weren’t originally from San Diego, but a job offer and a few years of living in the city you had officially called it home. You had always dreamed of living near the beach. Growing up, your family would take a beach vacation to somewhere new every year. You grew to love these vacations and associated the beach with some of the happiest times in your life. Always seeing yourself on the coast you never dreamed of ending up in San Diego, nonetheless you loved it.

You found yourself an incredible group of friends. It took a while, but you weaseled your way into their group. They took you in like the stray you were.

Your only issue with the city was how crowded it always was. You thought you knew what you were getting into moving to a tourist destination, but you were sorely mistaken. Places that should be five minutes away take at least twenty to get there. It was an adjustment. One you were still trying to figure out.

Your solution to this problem was to do your weekly errands at the weirdest times. That’s how you ended up in a grocery store at 11 PM on a Saturday night shopping for your weekly essentials. Headphones in you started browsing up and down the aisles only grabbing what you needed.

Everything was going smoothly up until you made it to the flour. Frowning, you realized the only flour left was on the top shelf all the way in the back. One of the drawbacks of shopping at this time? The shelves were never fully stocked. It was a give and take but for your sanity it was worth it. You needed that damn flour too. It was in almost all of your recipes for the week.

Looking up and down the aisle you made sure the coast was clear. Your first attempt was to jump and reach which ended in abysmal failure. Huffing you took a step back trying to reevaluate the situation and come up with a better solution. You realized your only two options were to either climb the shelves or to find an employee. You certainly weren’t going to go find an employee to ask, that defeated the whole purpose of shopping this late.

So, you opted to scale the shelves. Carefully you stepped on the bottom shelf making sure not to crush any of the food in your way. Still, you were too short to reach. Just before you were about to take the next step up you heard somebody clearing their throat from behind. Shit. You’ve been caught.

Realizing you probably looked like an idiot standing frozen on the grocery store shelf you slowly peeled yourself away. Gaining courage, you finally turned around seeing a strikingly handsome man standing there looking at you with an amused expression.

“It’s not what it looks like.” Smiling sheepishly at the man you rubbed the back of your neck out of sheer embarrassment.

“No?” He questioned before continuing, “It looks like you were trying to reach the flour?”

You continued smiling at him, this time your eyes going wide, “Well, it’s exactly what it looks like then.”

“Need some help?” He asked walking closer to you. He towered over your shorter frame. Damn, he smelled good too.

“Actually, I prefer to climb the shelves.” You wanted to continue the conversation, something very unlike yourself. That was why you were here at 11:30 at night, avoiding people.

He snickered, “You sure about that? Didn’t look like you were going to make it.”

“I’ll have you know…” You paused seeing how far back the flour was, you’d have to climb to the fourth shelf to get it. You needed his help. He had almost a foot on you, “I was definitely not going to be able to get it. I would love some help.” You grinned trying to play it off as cool as possible.

You finally got a good look at him when you turned back to admit defeat. He really was quite handsome. With dark curly hair topped with a pair of aviators he nodded, still chuckling at you, before going to get the flour for you. Curious, a pair of sunglasses this late at night. You wondered about the mustache, wasn’t too often a guy your age had one. It worked for him though.

It took all of your willpower not to ogle him as he stretched to reach it. You swallowed hard seeing how fit the man was. His arm muscles contracted as he brought the sack of flower down from the shelf, you tried looking away but were sure you had gotten caught staring. It wasn’t every day you came across a kind and handsome stranger man, your stupid brain just had to stare though.

He handed the flour to you with a smirk dancing on his lips, oh he definitely caught you staring, “Thank you kind stranger!” You gleefully took the flour from him ignoring the obvious tension, “You saved me from starving this week.”

He looked at you curiously when he handed it to you, not responding to your casual conversation.

“Well, thanks.” You tossed it into your cart getting ready to walk away, you never knew how to keep these conversations going.

“I’m Miles.” He stuck his hand out to you looking almost hopeful. Like he too wanted the conversation to continue.

Nodding you took his hand gently, “Y/N. Nice to meet you Miles. What brings you to the grocery store this late?” You asked, attempting to keep the conversation light. You were never very good at flirting with guys. Feeling stupid when they never flirted back with you, you often just simply opted for regular conversation.

Growing up with a house full of boys didn’t set you up for the success you thought it was. With two brothers and all of your cousins being boys, you didn’t have the girls needed to balance everything else. So, you grew up a true tom boy. It was the only way you knew hope to cope growing up around all boys. You constantly got shit for liking girly things, instead of dolls you opted for Legos. You just wanted to fit in with them.

You loved your childhood though. You were truly carefree, having the best of times running through neighborhoods like the hooligans you were. It was a blessing and a curse though. You were comfortable around men you just didn’t know how to flirt with them. Something you thought you’d pick up throughout the years, yet it never seemed to come naturally to you.

“Y/N.” He repeated under his breathe continuing to observe you. It wasn’t intense but you noticed, he was watching you for something, “What do you do?”

 “I’m a zookeeper. Work at the San Diego Zoo.” You answered him without skipping a beat.

“Really?” He perked up, fully peaking his curiosity now.

You nodded excitedly, “I work with the big cats. Mostly the lions, sometimes the jaguars and cheetahs.” People often found your work interesting, but Miles looked fascinated.

The two of you began walking down the next aisle, immersed in the conversation that had just begun, “Super casual.” He spoke admiring how calm you sounded about it all.

You shrugged picking up a box of cereal, “They’re gentle giants. I think my kitty at home is more of an asshole than the cats at the zoo.” You grinned thinking about your kitties. You loved them, more than people most of the time. They really were gentle giants, big sweeties.

“That doesn’t surprise me.”

You laughed this time, “House cats are rude. But so funny. I wouldn’t ever dare live without one.” You stopped grabbing some oatmeal realizing he wasn’t exactly shopping like you were, “I’m sorry Miles, you don’t have to shop with me. You don’t look like you were prepared.” You pointed to his basket instead of a cart.

“Don’t sweat it. This is the first interesting conversation I’ve had in a while.”

Smiling you continued, not letting your self-consciousness stop you now, “Alright, what do you do?”

He paused for a brief second looking a little panicked, “I work in the film industry.”

“What?” You stopped looking him up and down, “Now that’s cool! Not that cats aren’t cool. They’re really actually quite neat animals. But that’s… cool.” You wanted to facepalm yourself for your inability to flirt.

“Shoot, I’d argue taking care of a lion is far cooler than what I do.”

“They don’t talk back which is nice.” You answered nonchalantly wanting to know more but he clearly wasn’t willing to share. You were thrilled he thought you were interesting enough to talk to though. You did not want to push him, so you decided not to dig.

He gave you a genuine smile, a beautiful one at that, “But they could eat you.” He countered.

“You’re not wrong about that one. My cats are far too lazy to even try it though.” You stifled a laugh thinking how Izu, your male lion, made you bring him his dinner the other day instead of going to go get it. They’re pampered, spoiled rotten babies but you love them with your whole heart.

“Your cats?” He questioned. He was digging for more, maybe you’d try a little harder later when he wanted to share.

You hummed in agreement with him, “Izu and Mallie. Brother and sister. We got them a few years back as cubs. I got to bottle feed them and all. Their mom was killed in an accident, and they needed a home. I’m just closer with those two than I am the others. I got to bond with them when they could sit in my lap.”

Miles was an attentive listener letting you ramble on about your job. To be fair, he had asked you a million and a half questions about the job. And you sure did love talking about it, so he let you. He found you extraordinarily fascinating. Even more fascinating to him was that you seemed to not have a damn clue who he was. He found that refreshing, so damn refreshing. You were talking to him like he was just another guy off the street.

You were pulling him in, and you hadn’t even realized it. By simply treating him like a normal human you had broken down a long standing wall he often never let crack. Miles couldn’t believe how normal a conversation with a pretty girl could be.

Truth be told. His ‘relationship’, if that’s what you could even call it, was in utter shambles. He started hooking up with a coworker on set from a previous film with no intentions of actually dating her. His publicist caught wind of his plans and essentially tied his hands and made him maintain a relationship with the woman. She wasn’t terrible she just wasn’t what he was looking for. He wanted to be himself though and that wasn’t happening with any woman in Hollywood.

He wasn’t ever sure he would even be able to settle down now that his name had grown tenfold over the last few years. He was once in a long time relationship, but it blew up after never being able to see the poor girl. She broke up with him after the fiftieth time he had to cancel. He dated around here and there but was never able to find the one. People just used him for his fame and money. He wasn’t sure if he would be able to form a genuine connection with anybody again, people always wanted something from him.

So, chatting with you? It was absolute euphoria to him. He wasn’t lying when he said talking with you was the most interesting conversation he’s had in a while. Sure, being on set he was able to goof off and have fun with his coworkers turned friends every now and then. He knew there was no ill intent with the crew. He just craved an ounce of normalcy every now and then, which never seemed to come.

“Wait, you got to bottle feed lion cubs?” He asked. He thought you might just be the neatest girl he’s met in a long time. The way you described what you did for a living and the way you seemed to love it made him want to know so much more about you. He needed to know more.

“Mhmm! Let me show you a picture. They’re so precious.” You cooed scrolling through your photos to find them. Sure enough you found about a thousand or so pictures of the cubs, “That’s Izu and the pipsqueak beside him is his sister Mallie. She has stayed pretty small for a lion.” You pointed to the cubs grinning from ear to ear.

Miles could feel himself being sucked right into you. He knew he needed to make a move before you finished your shopping. He was sure he hasn’t smiled like this in a while, shooting was grueling.

“Why are you here so late?” He asked you the same thing as you had earlier.

Laughing you continued, “There’s a reason I’m a zookeeper. I try and avoid people. Most people don’t go grocery shopping at 11 o’clock on a Saturday night.

He laughed with you now, “You’re smart. I get to argue with people all day, every day.”

Shaking your head, you picked up a few apples, making sure to find the best ones, “God bless you for it. I’d lose my mind.”

“Sometimes I do.”

“You’re allowed to. That’s human.” Your eyes continued scanning the produce looking for the bananas, “Do you like what you do?” You questioned him this time, it was his turn. You were hoping he’d be more open to sharing now that you divulged half your life to him.

“I do. I really do. Love it actually. Most days are great. Just been a shit week.” He sighed, shoulders deflating a bit. He looked tired, exhausted even.

Forming a tight lipped smile you nodded, “I get it. Want to talk about it?” You questioned cocking your head to the side.

Shrugging he looked at you, “Do you really want to hear about it?”

“I do. You had me yapping this whole time, I’d like to know a little bit more about you Mr. Miles.” You responded while looking for the best bananas, finding it easier to converse when you weren’t staring right into each other’s eyes.

He liked you. He also knew he could grow to like you even more. You were beautiful, seemingly kind, and easy to hold a conversation with. You were kind of exactly what he was looking for. So, he let it go, letting you know just a little bit more about himself, “You know that saying, anything that can go wrong, will go wrong?”

Nodding your head, you turned to look at him, “Murphy’s Law!”

“Yes! That one.” He half smiled at you, admiring your excitement even though it was so late, “Every stunt went wrong this week, a guy almost fucking died. We lost an entire plane, poof up in flames. One of the actors got violently ill. I couldn’t perform…” He stopped his rant suddenly eyes wide realizing he would be giving away what he did, and he didn’t want to do that, not yet anyway, “I couldn’t perform my job because of all the mess ups. Filming is delayed already so that leaves us here in San Diego for who knows how long. Just a week from hell.” He groaned feeling a little relief offloading everything to the pretty girl he’s been talking to for the last forty five minutes.

You gave him the most bewildered look, “What the hell are you filming?” You paused realizing how insensitive that question was after he dropped all of that on you, “Sorry, that sounds like… a lot. That sucks Miles.” You were never great at giving advice. Especially when you had absolutely no idea just how massive it all was compared to your everyday simple life, “But on the bright side. More time in San Diego isn’t the worst. It’s a great little city!” You gave him your biggest and brightest smile hoping it’d cheer him up a bit.

“You’re right.” He admitted, “It’s not the worst. It’s actually pretty great. The women here are really pretty too.” He winked at you sending a fiery flushness to your face.

You tried coming up with anything to say. Something. But your mind went blank. It was like you had forgotten the entire English language in a millisecond. Your lips opened and closed making you look like a fish out of water.

“Thank you though,” He smiled sensing you inability to form a sentence, “Believe it or not, it’s nice to hear that sometimes.”

“Anytime. Glad I can help. Even just a little.” Words finally came back to you. 

Miles was sent into a mild panic realizing you had finished up your task at hand, you were walking towards the registers. The two of you had barely chatted for an hour but he didn’t want you to disappear off into the night. He wasn’t dumb, there was something there.

“Do you want to grab a drink or something?” He broke the silence between you.

“Right now?”

He shrugged, “Why not?”

You bit your lip contemplating his offer. Why not? You didn’t have anything to lose. You weren’t tied down to anybody and it wasn’t often a beautiful man asked you out.

“There’s a bar right by my place. Let me drop all this crap off at home and I can meet you there?” You felt exactly what he was thinking. He was so handsome, and he wanted to get to know you. There was certainly something there, why not give it a chance.

You exchanged numbers. He waited with you while you checked out not even grabbing what he came in here for, deciding he’d just do it tomorrow.

He walked with you to your car. You knew you shouldn’t put this much trust into a stranger but you decided to throw caution to the wind, fuck it.

“Rosa’s at 12:30, got it?” You asked slamming your trunk shut after loading up the groceries.

“Got it ma’am. I’ll see you soon. You really are beautiful.” He cracked a smile as he sauntered off towards his car.

You were thankful the cover of night hid the blush that encapsulated your entire face.

“Now this is a dive bar.” Miles chuckled taking in his surroundings.

“I didn’t say it was a nice bar.” Grinning you looked around at the hole in the wall. Having so many incredible memories with friends you couldn’t help but to adore the place, “I love it here.” You clapped your hands in excitement, definitely not planning for your night to end up like this but enjoying where it was heading. You were fully expecting to go sit on your couch and watch a movie or something when you got home. This was a nice change, a welcomed one. Your life had gotten so boring and monotonous, he was something different and exciting.

“Is it the beer all over the floor or the mold growing over in the corner that does it for you?”

Almost choking on the beer you were sipping on, you shot him a look, “Hey!” Laughing you composed yourself, “Film boy too good for Rosa’s?”

Shaking his head, he leaned closer to you in the booth you were chatting at, “Never too good.”

“That’s what I thought.” You shot him a wink feeling more and more comfortable the longer you spent around him. You too leaned into the table feeling exactly what he was, that pull, “So, what’s your story Miles?” Leaving the question open for ambiguity you hoped he would divulge even just a little to you.

He thought about telling you exactly what he did. Knowing full well he was playing with fire by not telling you. Luckily, the cover of night and your strategic choice of dive bar was keeping him well hidden from any recognition. He fully knew he’d have to tell you sooner rather than later because he certainly planned on seeing you again.

“What would you like to know?” Raising an eyebrow, he flipped the question back to you.

You eyed him as subtly as you could, so curious about this mysterious man, “Well, how’d you get into film?” Starting off with an easy one you took a long, slow sip of beer hoping he’d just give you something.

Clearly reminiscing he smiled thinking just how he got into it, “Honestly?”

You nodded waiting for him to go on.

“The drama teacher at my high school was fine as fuck.”

For the second time in a span of ten minutes you almost choked, not expecting that answer, “You know, that’s the best answer I could’ve gotten.” You didn’t stifle the laugh that came out. He was just getting better and better every time he said something.

He joined in on your laughter feeling elated. There was something about the way you presented yourself that eased him, he felt like he could be his full honest self with you. He didn’t feel like he needed to be prepped when it came to conversing with you.

He had a big problem though, the coworker turned fake girlfriend would be rather hard to explain to you. He was fully aware of just how unfair that would be to both you and her. He didn’t hate her at all, quite the opposite actually. They had grown close as friends, deciding they would rather suffer through it together. Each time they had to go out as a couple though it got harder to fake the lovesick eyes.

Knowing you were rather frazzled he thought it best not to bring it up tonight. Maybe on the next date. Definitely on the next date.

He smiled at you, quickly getting addicted to your laugh, “She was a fox,” He shrugged continuing, deciding to give you the vague details, “And she was good at her job. I got accepted into NYU and graduated with a BFA. I got lucky though and broke into the industry right after school.”

Nodding your head, you took everything he said in. He seemed like he was still not telling you everything which was fine, you couldn’t expect everyone to be as open as you were, “I think that’s amazing. I don’t know many artsy people. Everything is so technical when it comes to animals surprisingly. And all my friends here are either zookeepers or engineers. The conversations can get really thrilling.” Sarcasm was dripping off your voice as you spoke.

“And smart people intimidate me, touché.” He held his glass up waiting for you to cheers with him. You obliged laughing softly at the man who was absolutely riddled with one liners. He was so subtly funny you knew you would be laughing constantly if this were to go further.

“I didn’t say I was smart!” Feeling all too joyful your cheeks were starting to hurt from the smile you’d been holding for a while, “I just have a bunch of smart friends.”

“I don’t think you can do what you do without being a little smart.”

Shrugging you responded, “I just like big cats. Would I know anything you’ve worked on?” You changed the subject back to him. It’s not like you didn’t like receiving compliments it’s that you didn’t know how to receive them. You clammed up getting all awkward. The best way to avoid it was to change the subject.

He bit his cheek suppressing the smirk that so desperately wanted to come out. No, of course not or you’d recognize him instantly. He knew his time was running up, it was a good few hours of normalcy. You were just too curious to let it go, “Don’t think so. I’ve worked on more obscure films.” Lie, a little white lie.

“I’ll be honest with you Miles, I’m not the biggest movie or tv person. I don’t think I’ve been to a movie since I lived at home with my parents like 10 years ago.” You admitted. Of course, you watched a few movies every now and then, but you never got into it like others did. Only going to see the blockbusters you certainly weren’t going to see obscure movies. You liked the big blockbusters, but you could never get into them like the Harry Potter or Marvel fans could.

He nodded understanding you a little more now, “Nothing wrong with that, lots of great films out there though.”

“I’m more of a book person but I believe you. What’s the biggest movie you’ve worked on?” Again, changing the subject back to him.

“Are you going to go watch it?” He leaned even further into the table, your hands nearly touching.

“Of course, I am.” You answered like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

He pondered for a moment. Knowing that if he continued his lie you wouldn’t want anything to do with him. His time was up. Which one did he want you to watch though? Divergent was a little cringy, meant for teenagers. Whiplash was intense but one of his favorites. The Spectacular Now was easy but again, meant to teenagers. He was surprised you hadn’t seen any of them.

“Have you heard of Whiplash?” He finally answered you.

Shaking your head back and forth, “Nope. What’s it about?”

“A drummer.”

“That’s all?”

“I don’t want to give away too much.” He looked sure of himself.

“Okay,” You paused taking another long drink of beer, “I’ll watch it tomorrow. And what was your part in it?”

There it was. He could no longer dance around the subject. He had to tell you. Whatever this was, was likely over. He enjoyed every second of it though, the pure normalcy of it all though, “That’s a great question Y/N.” He delayed the inevitable for a few seconds.

“Chock full of them.” You grinned hoping he’d answer you.

Sighing he set his beer down taking a good long look at you, “Full disclosure. I’m one of the leads.”

You weren’t sure what your face looked like. If there was one thing that you would change about yourself it’s how expressive your facial expressions are. You were your emotions right on your face. The bug eyed look you were giving him surely wasn’t the cutest, “Like as in lead actor?”

The slightest nod and the smallest smile confirmed your question, “Yes.”

“But you said film. I thought you meant like an operator or something.” You couldn’t look him in the eyes. How embarrassing. You were less concerned that you spent the night with one but more so that you had no idea who he was.

He noticed your reaction. How you leaned back into your seat, pulling away from him. How you tensed up so slightly. How you wouldn’t look at him, staring at the bartender instead.

“I left a few details out.”

“A few?” You finally looked back to him not really believing you had managed to find yourself in this situation. It suddenly clicked as to why he was acting to weird and vague. He must’ve been a lot more famous than you initially thought. Fuck, why you? Why couldn’t he have just been an insanely hot man that found you interesting?

“Small details.” Cracking a small smile, he thought you were handling this remarkably well. Way better than he would’ve if he was in your shoes.

Realizing how insane the whole situation was you spat out the first thing that came to mind, “What are you filming here then?” It was still hard to meet his gaze. As comfortable as you felt with him earlier, it’d all vanished. Feeling insecure and slightly embarrassed you played with the water rings your glass was leaving instead of looking to him.

“It’s an action movie.”

“A secret?”

“Afraid so.” He didn’t take his eyes off you. Desperately wanting you to look back at him, even just for a second.

“Cool,” You took a deep breathe finally working the courage up to look at him, “I’m sorry… I.” You paused again tripping over yours words.

Cocking his head to the side he studied you. He wasn’t expecting you to apologize, “What for?”

“I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you…” You were in your own head. Completely frazzled. Why would he take his time and spend it with you, a random girl in a grocery store?

He rapidly shook his head, “No, no don’t apologize. Please don’t apologize.” He reached for your hand confusing you some more, but you let him. Your brain wasn’t processing anything at normal speed, “Y/N. This has been one of the best nights I’ve had in… forever. Since I’ve started doing this.” He admitted to you not wanting you feeling guilty in the slightest.

His hands were soft you noticed as he played with your own. You didn’t think your heart could keep up with what was going on. A combination of nerves and realization was sending you into a frenzy. Weren’t you just complaining about having a boring life? This certainly spiced things up.

“Okay,” You gulped looking back to him once more, “I take back what I said earlier. Your job is definitely the coolest then.”

The breath he was holding in finally released in the fit of laughter you had sent him in. He felt the relief wash over him. Maybe you wouldn’t run away just yet.

He squeezed your hand in his sending a slight shiver down your arm, “It has its perks. And its drawbacks. But I don’t want to talk about that.”

“No?” It finally clicked as to why he didn’t want to talk about it. You realized he probably liked not being recognized, not being treated like a god walking on water. You bullshited around with him like he was a random man in a grocery store. He wanted to spend time with you because you treated him like a normal person.

“Nah, let’s talk about something else.” He left it up to you. Maybe he shouldn’t have though, you were back in your head. What the hell were you supposed to talk to a famous actor about?

“What’s your favorite animal? You know mine, I never asked yours.” You too timidly spoke to him. Nervous you were going to do something wrong.

His smile told you otherwise though, “A monkey.”

“Interesting. Favorite sport?” You continued feeling like he had finally given up the mysterious act. Everything was in the open now.

“Football, is this twenty questions?”

“You left it up to me! So yes Miles, it is twenty questions.” Scrunching your nose, you were starting to relax again, feeling oddly normal around him even after he dropped that mini bomb on you.

He chucked, “Fair play. What’s yours?”

“To play, volleyball. To watch, football.”

He eyed you again curiously, “You like football?”

“Mhmm, can’t grow up in the Midwest and not love it.” You smiled thinking of the good old days. Your dad would cook up a feast on college football Saturdays and on NFL Sunday’s you’d all eat the leftovers. You cared far too much about games you couldn’t impact but you loved it. You loved the shit talking it inevitably led to between your family. You couldn’t get enough of it.

“Favorite team?”

“Unfortunately, the Bengals.”

He gave you a look of pity, “That is unfortunate.”

“Rude.”

The two of you continued your bickering conversation throughout the rest of the night, never seeming to miss a beat. You forgot who he was in the midst of it all, falling back into the most casual of conversations between the pair.

Feeling terribly disappointed when the bartender called for last round he could sense your hesitation. You weren’t sure what the next steps were. Did he want to see you again? Did you want to see him again?

He walked you to your apartment in a comfortable silence, bonus of only being five minutes away from the bar. You unlocked your door turning to him, “I had a good night Miles, really.”

He took your hand for the second time that night, giving it another squeeze, “I did too, really.” He repeated you sending your heart rate up a bit, “Busy tomorrow?”

You were excitedly surprised he wanted to do this again so soon, “I do have a movie to watch.”

“I’ll pick you up at eight?”

“Eight it is.”

[bowieandqueen11]

Dating Frenchie Would Include...

Request: Hi, May I please request some headcanons of what dating Frenchie (Our Flag Means Death) would include, please? Thank you so much!! 🖤

Of course my darling, here you go!!

Warning: a little strong language! Also I wrote this at 3 a.m. so it may be unintelligible 🏳️‍🌈

(I do not own OFMD or any of its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @crucifiix.)

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°

Lmao love a bit of fanfiction about Frenchie big fan

You are 100% the only other crew member, or the only other anybody in fact, that Frenchie allows into his room. Far too many times have you been caught sitting side saddled over Frenchie’s lap by Wee John Feeney, stroking the bottom of his beard and giggling as the two of you bump foreheads and continue talking shit about the newly crowned ‘Dizzy Izzy’ (during a rough patch in the storm that had raged earlier that night, he had accidentally tumbled after a large pitch into Lucius’ lap, and by golly was he not letting anyone forget about it.) Wee John just sighs, walking straight back out and letting the door slam shut; the last thing you can hear as you try to stifle your laugh against the side of Frenchie’s neck is him calling you ‘the weirdest eejits’ he’s ever met. Neither of you are really paying attention though: your lips managed to accidentally rub against the tip of Frenchie’s collar bone, one of his more ticklish points, and the man was too busy apologising and trying to give you a hand up after accidentally flinging you to the floor.

After a lot of coaxing, a lot of fake pouting, and a lot of pecking forehead kisses to try and convince him round to the idea, he does eventually get used to the idea of you sleeping over as well! I feel like Frenchie is definitely a ‘leg over you like a mossy log that’s been stuck in a marshy bog for hundreds of years and hasn’t moved an inch in that entire time’ kind of sleeper. Like, the man is so tall that on your single shared bed you’re lying properly on it as the bottom layer, and then Frenchie is playing a game of Tetris with his limbs over you during the night. Usually it ends up with his head dipped down and tucked up all neat and cosy against the side of your cheek, his snores resonating loudly enough through the walls of the ship that they could have invented the foghorn right there and then, and his left leg splayed completely over your midriff.

If you get too uncomfortable and give him a shove he will eventually roll over and curl up like an armadillo so you can spoon him though. That is, if one of you hasn’t managed to shove the other out of the bed first - it’s a common occurrence for Wee John to wake Frenchie up from where he’s half lying under the bed, but even though he’s got aching shoulders from spending half the night rolling about the wood he’s still all smiles and doe eyes at you when he sees you’re awake too. Like a Jack in the box, he pops up over the side of the bed with a smile bright enough to make even the crystal dawn of the sea pale by comparison, and presses a kiss against the tip of your nose before skipping off. He’s so sweet your honour I actually cannot with this man.

Sometimes he likes to talk before the two of you fall asleep. Before he’s splayed out like a starfish, the two of you lie in the cot side by side and just fiddle with each other’s fingers on the pillow. Noses close enough to rub against each other if you dared to move a hare and legs pulled up in a half-sit so they can rest familiarly against each other, Frenchie relishes and relaxes in the knowledge that there’s someone on this ship that will know his story. That there’s someone left in the world that’s even willing to hear it, to care about him, and not just what he can do for them. There’s a poignant wistfulness to the air, to his words, so much so that from time to time he can’t even meet your eye. He still always flashes you that shy, optimistic smile from time to time, but you can see the past in the wrinkles of his face every time he uncomfortably starts to recoil when you press your palm to his cheek.

Not going to lie, he may not be a visual artist to rival the mastery of Lucius, but you can bet your sandy ass that Frenchie has pinned up the walls some doodles he’s drawn of you in his spare time, with parchment that he tore out and ‘borrowed’ from Stede’s diary. When Stede collected the crew on the deck a few days later and had a ‘team meeting’ about why stealing was wrong, Frenchie gave a very convincing shrug and ‘it wasn’t me’ frown when Stede asked who had taken the paper. I mean, he was always bound to find out, and when he did stumble into Frenchie and Wee John’s room the next afternoon to borrow his lute (he was planning to write a song for Blackbeard to convince him he was more of a catch than Calico Jack don’t even ask), he only smiled fondly and shut the door when he spotted what his diary had been used for. (And secretly hoped that Ed wouldn’t find his own doodles of him in said diary lmao.)

Oooh, can you imagine how lovely it would be to stumble through Stede’s secret tunnel and to go sit out by unicorn figurehead with Frenchie?? Just the two of you, feet swinging together through the planks, the swirling pockets of silver dancing over the warm tides and the comforting buzz of Frenchie’s voice as he sings for you. With your head resting on his shoulder, you’re too busy falling into a blissful oblivion to even notice that Frenchie’s stopped picking at the strings of his lute, and has instead set it down at his side. He’s found that a much better use of his time would be staring at you, so obviously, so fondly, so sweetly: as if dewdrops hung from his lips, ready for the northern dawn that only your splendour could bring.

Getting to tie that cute little cravat around his neck before the five of you jump ship to go to that fancy dinner party. Every time you try to loop the end of it back through he chases your fingers (to try and kiss them or bite them, you’re not entirely sure), but it does make the two of you burst out into another fit of giggles.

Although he has quite a sweet disposition, Frenchie is 100% ready to throw hands for you. The whole time he’s trying to crank up Oluwande’s ‘pyramid scheme’, he has one eye on the valuables being handed over and one trained solely on you. If any of the esteemed and highly respectable guests become a little too eager, coltish, agitated, Frenchie is straight on it. Before you can even knock their wig off, he’s grabbed your wrist and pulled you either behind his back or dragged you out to the hull with the sternest expression you’ve ever seen on his face. Either way, he’ll always put himself in the firing line of harm’s way first, if it means protecting you.

The two of you spend about 70% of your time singing together on deck. Frenchie’s jamming along with his lute, and you’re animatedly singing and dancing around him, often roping in Lucius to come do full body jigs or a ridiculing minuet Frenchie’s intensifying sea shanties. Since the three of you were supposed to be finishing Izzy’s order to mop the deck, he’s sitting cross legged on the helm behind your spinning bodies, with enough steam coming out of his crimson ears to drown the sky in thunderclouds.

During crew meetings he’ll just straight up wander in late and just... come up behind you and plop his chin down on top of your head. He won’t listen to a word of what’s going on either: too busy chatting with you, or with Jim, or fiddling with the rings on your fingers, or just trying to figure out if the stain on the ceiling looks more like an orange or a fish. To be honest he didn’t even realise it was a meeting until Stede asked him if he was paying attention - he just saw you and immediately came to seek out your heat (and also your hugs).

His love language is doing and making things with his hands, so instead of doing actual work to help out on the Revenge, he tries to craft for you. He sits by the mast, cross legged, and with his tongue sticking from the corner of his mouth in the uttermost form of concentration. He’s trying to remember how his ma taught him to thread a needle, so desperate to fix up your shirt properly after Spanish Jackie nearly tore the sleeve to shreds during your first meeting at the Republic of Pirates. Of course, you’ll eventually have to free him from where he’s managed to sew his shirt to his jacket (very well, might I add). He smiles all the while, leaning down to gently kiss your knuckles every time they bump up high enough with a new thread of the string to be within his reaching distance.

He likes to steal Wee John’s old hammock - he’s a big fan of having snuggled up naps on deck while Ed and Stede have stopped off at some new island and are busy off smooching on their foliage walks. 

Or, he likes to venture out sometimes too and see someplace new with the love of his life! Usually it’s just some slightly different variation of a beach, but this just allows him ample opportunity to perform his favourite activity: scooping up wet sand and hurling at you in a mock sand-ball fight. The two of you fly across the streaking honey-gold boughs of the winding branches of the strip, Frenchie rolling his trousers up and finally catching up to you between the torn crags and cliff edges. He jumps, flying full sail through the air until he’s knocked both of you to the ground. He tries to be all romantic and pretend he hasn’t just knocked the ever loving wind out of you. He leans over you, crawling his knees up between your thighs and slowly dipping down to kiss you, before getting bashed up the face by a huge tide and falling ass over teakettle backwards in sweet revenge lmao.

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

HERE, KITTY, KITTY (18+ Fic)

Pairing: Aizawa x Black!Catgirl!Reader

Synopsis: In which you find yourself in the weirdest predicament after you’re scooped up and taken to a cat cafe after you decide to take the streets to fight some crime, and you’re adopted by your very anti-social and hot coworker Aizawa aka Eraserhead.

Story Warnings: Smutty Smut, 18+ (MINORS GET AWAY), Swearing, Adult!Reader, Ear and Tail Stroking, Light Degradation, Spanking, Exhibitionism, Multiple Positions, Creampie, Unprotected PIV Sex, Facial, Scent Play, Collaring, Deepthroat, Cunnilingus, Begging, Edgeplay, Power Play, Rope Play/Shibari, Master Kink, Some Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Some Action

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer’s Note: I decided to drop the last five chapters to this story at once cuz I'll be EXTREMELY busy with my summer job & I'm also working on a new fic. Thank you all so, so, soooo much for the love on this story! I had so much fun writing it. I'll be writing some brand new shit soon! Stay safe! -Jazz

Read on AO3 here!

Other Chapters: One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen. Eighteen. Nineteen. Twenty. Twenty-One. Twenty-Two. Twenty-Three. Twenty-Four. Twenty-Five.

*************

TWENTY-THREE.

A week after being saved by you from drowning and possibly losing a limb, Aizawa’s dorm room is finally ready to be moved into again and he sees you everywhere: on the news; in the papers; on Twitter.

And he fucking hates it. 

It’s bad enough you’ve been all up in his mind, but now he has to see you in your hot-ass Night Claw outfit in every magazine and newspaper now?

Not to mention the viral videos. You were kicking Aqua Master’s ass in that pencil skirt and blouse. Though you look good and you certainly deserve your fame, he can’t help but also be extremely worried about how your life could go from here. 

Since last Friday’s mission with the Aqua Master, he hasn’t heard anything negative from Principal Nezu, the HPSC, or the police chief whom he was sure would slap some cuffs on you on Friday afternoon.

Aizawa would’ve damn well bailed you out himself if not raised hell to the police department if that shit happened. He hasn’t heard much from Endeavor’s hot-headed ass either, thank God. The man knows what’s good for him. Aizawa thought he had lost his mind talking to you in that manner. 

To say he wasn’t ready to teach Endeavor a lesson right there in front of everyone is an understatement, but Aizawa knew better. He didn't want his little Eri to see Daddy fucking up another pro on TV. 

All he can hope is that things go well for you here. He knows for a fact that the UA kids are talking as are the streets of Musutafu about the sexy, skilled cat girl hero who singlehandedly took down a villain and saved dozens of lives, including Eraserhead’s.

Though you’re absolutely insane, he has the utmost respect for you for kicking ass without your disguise, knowing fully well you’d be plastered all over Japan and possibly the world as a new hero stepping onto the scene. He just hopes the HPSC doesn't try to scoop you up. He’ll fight to keep that at bay, but if it happens, it’s ultimately your decision. 

These thoughts have been bugging Aizawa all week, so on a beautiful Saturday morning, he decides to take Eri to the park. There aren’t many people here yet, so he lets Eri have free range of the playground area. “Daddy, can I go on the swing?” she asks, eagerly looking up at him. 

He smiles, nodding. “Go have at it, but be careful and try not to get your clothes too dirty.” As she skips away in her baby blue dress, he takes a seat on a nearby bench to watch her. The air is clean, the breeze is cool, and the sun is warm on his face.

Definitely, some good weather to clear his head and figure out this you problem. He hasn’t spoken to you since last Friday when you saved his life. He wants to be angry at you for being so reckless like that, but his respect and adoration for your decision overpowers that. 

“Dammit,” he sighs, running a frustrated hand down his face. Why do you have to be so stubborn? 

“I knew I recognized that voice!” a familiar, cheery voice exclaims from beside him. “I’m not used to seeing you out and about, Aizawa.” 

Aizawa turns, finding a small mouse wearing a kind smile and a red tracksuit with a UA sweatband around his forehead. “Principal Nezu,” he says. “You’re out here? Aren’t you afraid of the gettin’ swiped up by a dog or something?”

Nezu titters to himself, waving his paw. “Oh, no,” he laughs. “That’s what I’ve got this for.” He slides something out of the tiny fanny pack wrapped around his waist, revealing it to be an animal repellent. “But don’t worry; it doesn’t hurt ‘em. Just gives off a very unpleasant smell.” 

Aizawa nods, struggling not to laugh at the idea of his boss carrying that around. Nezu hops up next to him, already knowing Aizawa won’t mind his company.

“I see you’ve caught wind of the new hero that hit the streets too, huh?” he chuckles. “I will admit, Ms. L/N looked incredible in that news clip the way she handled herself. I’m shocked she never decided to be a pro hero.” 

A record scratches in Aizawa’s head as he turns to the mouse. “Wait,” he says, furrowing his brows at Nezu. “You know?” 

“Well, of course, I do!” Nezu laughs as if it should’ve been obvious. “I always have! I will admit that I was worried about how it would affect the other staff and students here or how it could potentially affect her job, but Y/N has never disappointed me on that front. She knows how important it is to be an outlet for the kids.”

He looks at Aizawa, seriousness in his eyes. “Besides, after she saved your life when Toyoma attacked you, I could never go and fire her. She has a pure heart.” 

Aizawa sighs, his muscles relaxing. He has never felt so relieved. This means your job is safe! Nezu is still giving him that serious look though which puts him slightly on edge.

“I am sorry for what happened that night, Shouta,” he solemnly says. “To you and Eri. I’m just glad your dorm is ready to live in again.” He turns to Eri still on the swings, giggling happily. The two wave at each other, filling Aizawa with joy. 

“So am I,” the pro sighs, relieved. “And you have nothing to apologize for. I’m just glad I’m here and breathing.” Nezu smiles fondly, patting Aizawa on the arm. “That’s the right attitude.” 

Silence then descends on them, though not awkwardly. It is peaceful, but guilt eats Aizawa up with every second they sit in silence. He has to tell him the truth. 

“I have something to tell you,” he sighs, the guilt winning him over. Nezu turns to him expectantly and he swallows the lump in his throat before continuing. “A couple months ago, I adopted a cat for Eri to keep her company and help her make her feel more like a kid. Unfortunately, that fell through, but I’m sorry I went against your rules. I just wanted to give Eri as much happiness as I could when I’m not able to be with her.” 

Nezu says nothing for a while, just blankly staring up at Aizawa. He stares down at his boss, wondering what he’s thinking. Is he going to be fired right here, right now? Will he be banned from the dorms? Who will Eri live with then? “Shouta, I already knew about the cat,” Nezu matter-o-factly says. 

Aizawa’s eyes widen, shocked. "You think cameras don't exist in the faculty dorms? I’ve seen that cat walk in and out of that building time and time again!”

Nezu just laughs like this is the funniest thing he’s ever heard. “But since she never gave me or anyone else trouble, I never bothered. Plus, I could see how happy she made you and Eri since you adopted her. It's always nice to see a smile on your face. You’ve always looked so down.” 

Aizawa doesn’t know how to handle hearing that. So Nezu has worried about him too? What of everyone else? What of Eri? Had she noticed too? Maybe he needs to get better at hiding things. ‘Or maybe just express how you feel to the people you love, ass,’ he critically thinks. ‘No matter how embarrassing.’

“Pardon my saying,” Nezu continues, “but I feel as if that smile hasn’t always been from the cat though.” He stares at Aizawa, a knowing smile playing on his lips. “It’s from Y/N, isn’t it?”

Aizawa’s flushed cheeks say everything he needs to know, and he chuckles to himself. “I could always see you two had a special relationship which I’m sure can be just as strong now. It could just about be unbreakable with a little communication.” 

Aizawa raises an eyebrow at his words. He can't help but feel like Nezu is saying them for a reason. Does he know you and him are on awkward terms right now? Does this mouse have eyes in the back of his head or something to know everything that happens in his school? Whatever it may be, it is good and critical advice. “So you really don’t mind pets?” he asks. 

Nezu rubs his paw along his chin, thinking. “Well, I do have a condition for that,” he replies, making Aizawa’s heart leap. “If you are to have pets, you have to be sure they won’t eat me and you’ll have to carry me in your jumpsuit for the next five months…starting now.” 

Aizawa rolls his eyes, but unzips the top half of his tracksuit anyway. Now he’ll be cleaning out mouse fur from his tracksuit and scarves for weeks. “Come on,” he sighs.

Nezu happily laughs as he scurries across the bench and up onto Aizawa’s chest before burrowing himself under his tracksuit. When Aizawa zips it up, Nezu’s head pops out from under his scarves, peeking at the world. 

“And thank you,” Aizawa softly says, smirking down at the little creature. Nezu smiles up at him fondly. “It’s my pleasure. Now let’s go to the swings!” 

The rest of the afternoon is spent at the park, playing on the swings with Eri and Nezu and walking along the hiking trails to help Eri pick flowers. After dropping Nezu off at his office back at UA, Aizawa takes Eri back to their dorm.

It feels so good to finally be back in the familiar halls of the faculty dorms after so long. Though the apartment Nezu rented for them was very cozy, Aizawa missed the cherry blossoms blooming outside his window and the homely feeling he got from his dorm room. 

Eri must’ve missed it too from how she was skipping down the hallway next to him, happy as a clam. “Daddy, are we still seeing the new Spider-verse movie tomorrow?” She asks, then gasps excitedly. “Do you think Y/N would wanna go with us? I think she’d really like it!”

This isn’t the first time she has mentioned your name. She’s been doing so ever since Toyoma's attack, wondering if she can visit you at your office or your dorm. 

And Aizawa always has the same answer: “I could ask her, pumpkin, but Y/N has been very busy lately. I don't think she’d–“ 

He suddenly pauses when they get to their door, noticing something there that is out of place. A little wicker basket with a soft, plush blanket on top sits in front of the door.

“What the hell?” Aizawa whispers. He furrows his brows in confusion at the basket, holding Eri’s hand a little firmer now. It could just be fruits or chocolates, but if he knows anything, you can never be too careful when it comes to receiving unexpected gifts. 

His defenses go up even more when the blanket begins to move. He swears his soul nearly leaves his body. “Daddy, look!” Eri gasps, pointing at the moving blanket. “It’s moving! I think there’s something in it.” She manages to escape Aizawa’s hold and runs over to the basket, kneeling beside it. 

Anticipation for something horrible under that blanket fills Aizawa’s gut as Eri pulls back the blanket. 'It better not be no baby,’  he thinks. ‘I’ve already got one of those.’ 

But his mind isn’t even close to the truth. Settled within the blanket with a side of cat food, toys, and litter, is a little calico kitten with the pinkest nose and prettiest swirl pattern Aizawa has ever seen.

Eri gasps, her eyes growing wide at the sight of the animal. “It’s a kitten!” she squeals. “She’s so, so cute! Look, she's got a scar just like you, Daddy!” 

Aizawa looks closer at the cat, finding a tiny scar under her left eye the shape of an upside-down present moon. Speaking of her eyes, they are so, so big! He can practically see the entire forest in the beautiful green shade of them. “Yeah,” he agrees, reaching a finger out to her. She sniffs him once with her little pink nose before brushing her head against his finger. “Where’d she come from though?” 

While Eri starts to gently pet her head, he searches for a card. There has to be something here to tell him where she came from. Luckily, he finds it. Taped to the bottom of the basket is a little white card scribbled in fast, pen-inked handwriting. He reads it over, his heart melting at the sweet words: 

A furry cure for loneliness and a great addition to any family. Meet Nea (for Neapolitan, like the ice cream). Enjoy! Feel free to change her name. -Love. 

A laugh bubbles from Aizawa’s chest once he finishes reading the card. Though they didn’t leave a name, he knows exactly who this precious gift is from and makes a mental note to thank them personally. After making a few calls first, of course.

“Who is she from, Daddy?” Eri curiously asks, still petting the kitten. 

Aizawa just smiles as he kneels down next to the basket and the excited, mewing kitten. “A very good friend of mine,” he answers before gently stroking the kitten’s head. “Nice to meet you, Nea.” 

*********

“Anybody want another one?” Mic asks, already whipping up another delicious, pineapple, mint-flavored cocktail in Nemuri's dorm kitchen.

You sigh, pushing away the second cocktail you haven’t even finished yet. “Not unless you want my clothes off,” you joke, leaning your cheek on your fist. Mic pauses in his kitchenette, a wolfish smile curling onto his lips. “Well…” 

As you laugh, Nemuri pegs a pillow at him from her spot next to you on the couch. “Mic!” she gasps. The pro catches the pillow in one hand as he lowers the ice shaker of his mixed concoction with the other. 

“C’mon, I’m kidding! Look, I got a smile out of her!” He nods at your lips curled into a grin after your laughter dissipates. “You truly are a magician then, darling,” Nemuri hums, sipping on her drink. 

You gape at your friends, slightly offended by their words. You haven’t exactly been the most chipper person in the world since your reveal last Friday, but you’re not walking around like the world is about to end either.

“Hey, I smile,” you protest. “I’m just…thinking about things.” 

Things like if you’re going to keep your job. Things like if the police chief will change his mind and charge you as a criminal. Things like if things will change for you for the worse. Even now, the halls of UA are talking.

You get kids coming into your office just to gush about your moves, especially Izuku Midoriya. He’s even put you in his notebook, asking you all kinds of questions about your quirk and hero fit. “What does it look like?” he asked with stars in his eyes earlier on Monday. “You’re really, super flexible! Can you still move in it? Does it come with claws?” 

Though it was adorable, you had to hustle him out of your room just to get a breather in. Even worse are the news people who seem to know everywhere you go now.

Just yesterday, you were taking a jog in the park and you were accosted by a newsman and his camera crew, asking you about your day and if you’re a professional hero.

You know that it’s only a matter of time until someone starts asking questions like, “Do you go to the bathroom in a litter box?” 

To be honest, you don’t even know if you want to be a pro-hero. Though the idea of it is fantastical and alluring, that also comes with brutal training, fighting villains almost every day, and constant, unwanted attention. You don’t know if you could handle all of that, let alone the transition from being a nobody into a celebrity. The idea of it frightens you. 

Mic shakes the ice shaker filled with the contents of his cocktail, definitely having the means of a bartender if he wasn’t a hero. “Like about how you kicked that villain’s ass last week and ate up the cameras in the process?” he chuckles. "I’m still thinking about that too. You were amazing!” 

You smile despite your indifference. You don’t feel too amazing. “As nice as this of you to say, Mic, that doesn’t change the fact that I could possibly lose my job now that everyone knows who I am.”

Though Nezu hasn’t visited your office lately, you still can't help but be fearful of the police storming into your office or dorm room in the dead of night one day. 

Nemuri slings an arm around the back of the couch, her knees curled up under her sundress as she sips her drink. “Well, the chief didn’t take you in, so I’d think you’re in the clear.”

You shake your head, getting yourself worked up as you think of all of the possible things that could go wrong. “For now!” you argue. “Now that the chief has officially met me, I doubt he’s just gonna let me go free with all the buzz on me now. I still don’t have a license or–“ 

There is a sudden loud knock at the door, making you and Nemuri jump. “Who the hell is that?” Mic asks, scowling at Nemuri’s door.

You go to get up, but he beats you to it, already making wide strides toward the door on his long legs. Anxiety shoots into your body, making your heart pound in your chest. Nemuri puts a hand on your knee and you realize it’s to stop it from bouncing. “Yes?” he firmly calls.

“Amazon package,” a very gruff, deep, and familiar voice answers. A smile curls onto Mic’s lips and he winks at you before opening the door.

You nearly spill your drink at how fast you get up from the couch. Aizawa stands there in the tightest shirt you’ve ever seen on a man and jeans, his black locks calling carelessly down his shoulders. It’s so harrowing to see him there after not seeing much since last Friday. “Shouta?” you softly gasp. “What are you here?” 

He doesn’t say a single word as he comes into Nemuri’s dorm and storms right over to you in four, long strides. You can’t do anything but gasp as his large hands cup your face and he smashes his lips against yours in a hot, toe-curling kiss.

Your eyes close instinctively, your senses overtaken by the softness of his lips, the mint on his tongue, and the scent of his cologne. The hairs on the back of your neck and the fur on your tail stand on end, excited by the stimulation. 

“Oh, my!” Nemrui gasps from the couch in delighted shock. Knowing Mic, he’s probably just grinning at you two, knowing full well this was going to happen. That’s why he opened the door.

Finally, Aizawa pulls away from your mouth, his charcoal eyes soft yet intense. “That was for your sweet ass apology,” he breathlessly explains. 

From the door, Mic clears his throat. “U-Uh we should give them privacy,” he says, already heading for the balcony. “Come on now, Nemuri. Give ‘em some room.” Though she huffs in protest, Nemuri gathers her drink and meets Mic out on her balcony, shutting the door behind them. 

Your dizzy mind manages to piece together Aizawa’s cryptic words and your ears perk up excitedly. “So you got your present?” you ask with a beaming smile.

Aizawa returns your smile, looking unbelievably more beautiful with it. “Eri was so excited when she saw her all wrapped up at our door, I had to get Mirio to come over to calm her ass down. You didn’t have to do that, you know.” 

“Yes, I did,” you pointedly argue. “I’ve been lying to you and her for so long.” You plant your hands on his broad shoulders, breathing in his scent. God, you’ve missed his smell. “Neither one of you deserved to be deceived like that,” you mutter, staring down at your shoes, ashamed of yourself and your decisions. 

“I know why you did it though,” Aizawa replies, holding you by your waist. “You felt if you didn’t, you’d be taking away the happiness you thought you gave us while pretending to be our pet. But you’re totally wrong about that, Y/N.”

He tilts your chin up towards his face with his thumb, making you look into his eyes that sparkle with adoration. “It’s you who makes us happy. You make me happy.” 

You swear you could touch the moon now. You’re just about bursting with joy as you wrap your arms around him, pressing your face into his chest. “You make me happy too,” you softly giggle. Aizawa returns your embrace, his arms wrapped securely around your small frame. With the wall between you now broken, you feel like anything is possible now. 

“So how’d things go once I left on Friday?” you curiously ask. “Did Endeavor pop a gasket?” Aizawa smirks down at you.

“Several,” he replies, making you laugh. “Oh, and Hawks told me to pass you his number since you told him we’re friends. I threatened to skin him like a turkey if he tried it.” 

You let out another belly laugh, imagining Aizawa giving Hawks one of his death stares. But the happiness you feel doesn’t last long when you remember one important part of that day. “What about the police chief?” you nervously ask. “And Principal Nezu?” 

Aizawa’s smile doesn’t falter. “Nezu already knew you were Night Claw.” You blink up at him, baffled. “W-What?” you stutter, wondering how in the hell your boss is this smart, or if you’re just that stupid. “Why didn’t he say anything?” 

Aizawa presses a hand to your cheek, his thumb stroking the corner of your lip and making your tail embarrassingly quiver. “Because he never had a reason to unless you were a threat to UA, which you aren’t. You’re a big asset here according to him. Plus, even if he did wanna kick you out, I’d vouch for you. It’s what I owe to you since you’ve saved my life many times.”

You smile, grateful for him having your back. “As for the police chief, we had a chat earlier and he agreed to let you off the hook despite the buzz. The HPSC is on my ass about wanting you to join them too.” 

You sigh, feeling relief overflowing inside you like a warm wave. You can’t believe your luck! Is God or the universe throwing you a bone?

“But,” Aizawa continues, making you stop short and not celebrate so quickly, “if you wanna continue fighting as Night Claw, you’ll have to take a few heroes courses and get your license. Lucky for you, there’s an adult six-month program that UA offers to staff for free here. If you take it, you’ll learn everything you need to know about being a pro, if you want that.” 

You laugh softly to yourself, not believing your luck. This is just too much. “I don’t know what to say,” you confess, grasping Aizawa’s shoulders. “It’s almost like I’m dreaming.”

A secretive smile crosses his plump lips, a hidden message in his dark eyes. “Wanna check?” he murmurs. 

Do you ever! He lets you make the first move this time, his lips ready and willing when you press your mouth against his in another kiss. You softly moan at the taste of him, forgetting how amazing it feels to be kissing him. He holds you closer as your lips move against each other, his big, calloused hands moving to cup your ass while your arms loop around his neck. You want him as close as he could possibly get after so many days without him.

When he suddenly pulls away, you whine in protest, earning a throaty chuckle. “I almost neglected to tell you that I’m a professor for the adult pro-hero program,” he huskily informs you. “I teach training.” 

At his heated stare, a warmth begins to pool between your inner thighs that you have missed. You haven’t gotten this horny in weeks. “Oh?” you purr, playfully smiling up at him. “What kind of physical activities do you specialize in?” 

Your head leans to the side as he swoops in, devouring your neck and bathing it in kisses that have your eyes fluttering closed. “Hand-to-hand combat,” he murmurs against your skin, "fighting with quirks, stuff along those lines.”

One of his hands trails down farther while one strays gripping your ass, making your clit jump excitedly. “But with you, I believe you could use additional…”

His fingers gently brush your trail, earning a soft moan from deep within you. “Hands-on training,” he purrs in your ear. 

God, yes. You don’t care what the fuck he wanted to do, as long as he ends up on top of you. “Can we start now?” you mewl pathetically, moving away to stare at him pleadingly.

Though he has the same lust in his eyes, he has way more self-control than you, obviously. “Not that I don’t mind somethin’ kinky now and again,” he chuckles, “but would you rather have an audience for that?” 

His eyes trail over your shoulder and you turn, finding Mic and Nemuri’s heads peeking from behind the balcony door. You put your hands on your hips, staring at them pointedly as if you were a Black mom staring at her badass kids. Mic immediately breaks and points at Nemuri, terrified. “She made me do it!” he cries.

Nemuri’s eyes flick between yours and Aizawa’s, her face beat red. “U-Uh…don’t mind us!” she hurriedly exclaims, shoving Mic back outside. “Go on and finish chatting!” She then disappears back onto the balcony and shuts the door though you can hear her yelling at Mic about being a snitch. 

You and Aizawa look at each other once and immediately burst into laughter. It feels good to laugh with him. To talk to him. The feeling you get being with him is unlike any other you’ve felt. It feels like being wrapped in the warmest, softest blanket you’ve ever had the pleasure of touching.

When your laughter finally dies down, Aizawa speaks once more. “I actually also came over to ask if you wanted to join Eri and me for dinner later.” 

Your heart leaps at the invitation, already on the cusp of saying yes despite Aizawa still speaking. "We’re having pizza…nothin’ homemade though. And watching Into the Spider-verse ‘cause Eri is hellbent on seeing the sequel tomorrow.” He looks down at the floor, bashful all of a sudden. “She also asked if you wanted to go too, but I told her to may be busy, s-so–” 

You stop him with a kiss, hoping he’ll get the message through your action: I’ll go anywhere you go. 

But instead of saying that, you pull away and give him a smile. “I’d love to,” you whisper. 

[kingofsummer93]

Ex Luna Scientia

Summary:

Lucien Vanserra, seventh son of the Minister for Magic, is as loved by his peers as he is hated by his family. But behind the charm and irreverence hides a secret, as dark and menacing as the scar on his face.

Elain Archeron, middle sister in a trio of muggle-born witches, has only one wish: for someone to truly see her. Because when she sleeps at night, she can see it all.

Or- an Elucien at Hogwarts AU.

Chapter 16: The Second Trial

Ao3 Masterlist

** a/n- I'm setting up a tag list, please let me know if you'd like to be added/ removed for this fic, Elucien fics specifically or all fics!

Lucien hovered outside the portrait of the Fat Lady, straining his ears to hear the commotion inside the Gryffindor common room. The dungbombs planted by his friends seemed to be doing the trick, judging from the sound of students scrambling towards the staircases on either side of the circular room, cursing loudly.

The Fat Lady gave him a stern look, unimpressed. “What have you done this time?” she asked drily, rearranging the folds of her frilly pink gown.

Lucien gave her a mock-hurt look. “You wound me. Why would you assume I have anything to do with whatever is happening in there?”

The Fat Lady’s friend Violet giggled into her glass of sherry. Lucien sent her a wink as the Fat Lady continued to stare at him sternly. “Well? Are you going to stand out here all night, then? Some of us have better things to do, you know.”

“But I thought it was your duty to guard us valiant Gryffindors, my lady?”

She scoffed at him, though he could have sworn her plump cheeks deepened to match the color of her dress. “Password?”

Lucien pressed his ear close to the edge of the painting, listening for noise on the other side. Violet giggled again, covering her mouth with a lacy fan. The common room was silent.

“Giggling Gum Drops,” he declared, bowing at the waist.

The Fat Lady rolled her eyes but waved a hand. “Very well,” she drawled, and with that the portrait swung open, revealing the entrance to the Gryffindor common room.

The room was indeed deserted, though a thick, foul mist still hung in the air. Lucien coughed, his eyes immediately watering from the toxic vapors. A clock on the wall struck midnight, and he hurried to the fireplace in the corner of the room, dropping to his knees to stare into the flames. They had burned down to embers, and after a few minutes Lucien began to worry. It wasn’t like Eris to suggest such a clandestine meeting- normally he would have sent an owl or asked to meet him in Hogsmeade. Whatever it was that his brother wanted to talk to him about, he didn’t want the conversation overheard.

The dying embers suddenly came to life, burning red and orange for a moment before turning a bright emerald green. A split-second later Eris’ face appeared in the flames, looking more stressed than Lucien had ever seen him.

“Have you lost your mind?” his brother declared by way of greeting.

“Hello to you too, brother.”

“Please tell me I misunderstood and that you did not send me an owl requesting that I sneak you into the Department of Mysteries?”

His brother’s tone was devoid of its usual lazy humor, and Lucien felt a twinge of guilt. “I didn’t send you an owl asking you to sneak me into the Department of Mysteries?”

Eris sighed, making the emerald flames flicker. “Lucien, I’m serious. You can’t write things like that down, much less send them out by owl. Andras is super recognizable, if anyone intercepted him…”

“Why would someone intercept my owl?” Lucien asked sharply.

Eris winced, as if he had let something slip. “Weird shit is happening at the Ministry, Lucien. People are on their guard. Tense.”

“What do you mean, weird shit is happening?” He remembered what Eris had told him about Mr Koschei going missing. “Has Koschei still not been found?”

Eris shook his head. His mouth was set in a thin line. “He hasn’t. It’s the weirdest thing. I know he’s a mean motherfucker, but you don’t become the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement by twirling your thumbs. Koschei is an incredibly powerful wizard. People like that don’t just vanish. Magic leaves a trace, especially strong magic.”

Lucien’s stomach twisted. “What’s the ministry doing about it?” The ministry being code for our loving father.

“Father’s put out a statement claiming that Koschei took a leave of absence. Bullshit, of course. Even our top Aurors haven’t heard from him.”

“And people believe it?” Lucien asked, incredulous.

“I sure as shit don’t. Most of the ministry seems content to go along with it but a lot of people are starting to get suspicious.”

“But Koschei’s always been such a huge supporter of dad.” The word tasted like bile on his tongue. “Hasn’t he? If something actually happened to him you’d think the whole ministry would be in a frenzy to try to find him.”

“Precisely,” Eris simply. “Except…”

“Except what?”

Eris sighed, running a hand through his short hair, the motion making it stand on end. “I really shouldn’t be telling you this.”

“Eris!”

“There’s been rumors, all right? That maybe Koschei and dad haven’t been seeing eye-to-eye lately.”

“About what?” Lucien demanded.

“I have no idea. I only know because my friend from the Department of Mysteries heard them arguing a few times, and she- get that look off your face, Lucien!”

“But-“

“Lucien,” Eris snapped. “Listen to me. Those giants you saw? There is no record of their movements around Britain. None. Nothing.”

Lucien was so stunned that for a moment he couldn’t speak. “What does that mean?”

“It means that the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures has no idea that they’re there.”

A chill went down Lucien’s spine. “But- we saw them. The others saw them too, they can tell you-“

Eris raised a hand to shush him. “I believe you, Lucien. Merlin, I don’t know why you’d make something like that up.”

“It doesn’t make sense. There’s no way that many giants would go unnoticed.”

“And there’s no way our esteemed father wouldn’t keep track of them,” Eris continued, voicing exactly what Lucien had been thinking.

Their father, who forced every werewolf, vampire, harpy, house elf, goblin, and anyone else who wasn’t completely human to register with the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, would very much care about a whole village of giants setting up camp near Hogwarts.

“But…Elain said Professor Spell-Cleaver didn’t seem that concerned. How could the ministry not know if he does?” It didn’t make sense. None of this made any sense.

Eris shook his head again. “Your guess is as good as mine. Although…”

“What?”

“Well, you know how Hogwarts is spelled to be unplottable?”

Lucien recoiled from the fire. “You can’t actually think-“

“It would explain why nobody has heard or seen them, even though they’re…well, you know. Not quite inconspicuous.”

“But why?”

“That I can’t answer. And before you ask, no, they’re not part of the other Trials.”

“Well, thank fuck for that, at least.”

“And speaking of the Trial,” Eris continued. Lucien braced himself for more bad news. “Since Koschei’s gone MIA a lot of people have been suggesting we postpone it.”

“Really?”

“People are saying it’s not right to keep going, seeing as how his department organized so much of it. But you’ll never guess who shut down that talk as soon as it began.”

“I’m guessing it wasn’t you?”

Eris smiled grimly, though it looked more like a grimace. “Our father insisted that the Tournament keep going. He was quite livid that people were even thinking of shutting it down.”

Lucien blinked in surprise. “What? What does he care? He didn’t even come to watch the first Trial.”

“Exactly. I don’t think he actually cares at all.”

“Then why-”

“I don’t know. But if you ask me, all this weird shit is not a coincidence. And it’s not a coincidence that a lot of people and resources are currently focused on Hogwarts and the tournament.”

“Meaning…meaning that people are distracted.” Eris’ meaning dawned on him with horrible clarity. “You think dad is up to something.”

Eris glanced over his shoulder quickly, as if making sure that nobody was standing behind him. “Shh! You need to be more careful about saying things like that, Lucien. You need to be careful, period. Stay close to the school, don’t leave the grounds. Whatever those giants are doing there, it’s not just an innocent vacation.”

“Got it,” Lucien said drily. “Sit on my ass and don’t get in trouble while the adults sort it out.”

“Don’t be a git. You know what I mean. Which reminds me- what possible reason could you have for wanting to break into the Department of Mysteries? Nobody even knows what the hell is down there.”

This time it was Lucien who looked over his shoulder to make sure the common room was still empty. “I hope you’re not in a rush.”

Eris stayed uncharacteristically quiet, though his frown deepened the further Lucien got into his explanation. By the time he got to the missing prophecy his brother was rubbing his forehead as though to ease a growing headache.

“So let me get this straight,” he started. “You’re telling me that not only is there a top-secret room beneath the Ministry filled with thousands of prophecies, but Elain would like my help to somehow break into this top-secret place?”

“That’s about it, yes,” Lucien replied with more confidence than he actually felt.

Eris pinched the bridge of his nose.

“You said it yourself,” Lucien soldiered on. “All this weird stuff happening all of a sudden? What are the chances this is completely unrelated?” Even though he desperately wished that it was, and that Elain had no involvement in whatever was brewing. “Elain was attacked during the first Trial, Eris! What if whoever stole that prophecy tries again during the second Trial?”

“They won’t,” Eris said darkly. “Not while I’m watching. I’ll see what I can do about bringing in some extra security. There will be eyes on her- on all of you, at all times.”

“Thanks, Eris,” Lucien said gratefully. “I’m starting to question this whole Tournament, to be honest. It was all fun and games, but…”

“But now not so much. I’ll be at Hogwarts in a few weeks for the second Trial, all right? We’ll talk more then. In the meantime I can ask my friend what she knows about the prophecies. But don’t get your hopes up, I doubt she’ll tell me anything.”

“Anything she knows would be helpful. Elain’s really freaked out by the whole thing. With good reason, obviously.” Lucien swallowed thickly. “I just wish there was more I could do to help her.”

“We will help her,” Eris declared in that tone that left no room for argument. “I can’t believe she’s a seer.”

“Just don’t bring her name up when you start asking questions, alright? She doesn’t want people to know.”

Eris gave him a pointed look. “You think I suddenly forgot how to keep a secret?”

Lucien huffed a laugh. “Touché.”

“Speaking of gossips.” Eris grimaced. “You’re not going to like Koschei’s replacement for the panel of judges.”

“What do you mean?” He’d assumed it would be someone from Koschei’s department at the ministry, or another department head.

Eris winced again, but before he could answer there was a scuffling noise behind Lucien. He tensed, whirling towards the doors leading to the dormitories. “Someone’s coming down the stairs,” he whispered.

When he turned back to the fire Eris had already disappeared, the flames back to a merry red.

Lucien barely had time to scramble to his feet before the door to the girls’ dormitory creaked open. Feyre stepped into the glow of the fireplace, her eyes narrowed at him suspiciously.

“What are you doing down here?”

“Prefect rounds,” he lied smoothly, walking to the stairs on the other side of the room.

“I heard voices,” she pressed, looking around the deserted room.

Shit. If she had heard even a fraction of that conversation… “This castle is haunted, you know.”

She rolled her eyes, reminding him so strongly of Elain that he grinned.

“You’ve become even more smug since you started dating my sister, you know that?” She walked to a table near the window and rifled through a pile of discarded homework.

“Just as you like me, right?”

Feyre huffed a laugh and disappeared back up the stairs. “Good night!”

Lucien’s nerves did not settle long after he had made it upstairs to his four-poster bed. His dreams that night were full of giants, and secret underground vaults, and Elain’s eyes, milky-white and all-seeing.

---

Lucien wiped the rain from his eyes, glancing once again at the giant red countdown floating in the grey sky above him. His stomach lurched with a jolt of panic-induced adrenaline. Thirty-five minutes left- almost half his time was already gone.

There was a sudden flurry of noise and movement from the crowd as the assembled students erupted in cheers and applause. Shit. Had another champion already finished the task? It seemed almost impossible, but with the high hedges blocking everything but the path in front of him, it was impossible to know.

Lucien had almost had a heart attack when Professor Amren had escorted him to the Quidditch pitch for the second Trial. His beloved field was unrecognizable, turned into some sort of giant maze, with hedges so tall they almost reached the bottom of the Quidditch stands.

“What have they done?!” he had demanded, gaping at the field in horror. “We have a match in two weeks!”

“Well then I guess it’s a good thing Quidditch is played on brooms,” Nesta had piped up drily behind him.

Any thoughts of Quidditch, however, had quickly vanished upon entering the maze. The second Trial was simple- each champion entered from a different corner, staggered according to their current rankings. They had an hour to reach the center of the maze, or risk getting disqualified from the Trial.

It seemed deceptively simple, and might even have sounded fun, were it not for Eris’ warning still marinating at the forefront of his mind. That, and the icy, unrelenting rain currently chilling him to the bone. As if on cue the sky opened up with a flash of lightning, illuminating the path in front of him. He had reached a fork in the maze, both paths stretching out into pure darkness in front of him.

Lucien squinted into the dark, trying to make out anything except the dense hedges. The rain combined with the shadows cast by the maze made it impossible to see anything. It was eerily similar to walking into the Forbidden Forest to retrieve that unicorn hair.

Something moved in the path to his left, nothing more than a shifting of shadows. Lucien took an involuntary step back as the hair rose on the back of his neck at whatever dwelled in those shadows.

After a beat of hesitation he laid his wand flat on his palm and muttered a four-point spell. The wand spun in his hand and then froze, pointing to the path heading right. North. To reach the center of the maze he would have to take the path to the left.

The shadows shifted again, followed by a slithering, hissing sound. Lucien turned on his heel and hurried towards the path on the right. He’d just have to double back at the next fork.

Another glance at the flashing numbers in the sky told him he had just passed the halfway mark. He quickened his step, holding his wand’s thin beam of light higher above his head. He was just considering calling his patronus to light his way when a scream, high pitched and petrified, ripped through the dark. Lucien froze, heart pounding, straining his ears to find the direction of the scream.

This was not the Forbidden Forest, he reminded himself. The champions were in plain view of the packed stands filled with students and teachers. And besides, Eris had promised to keep an eye on Elain.

Still, he couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe as that scream echoed around in his mind. And then echoed through the maze again, somewhere to his left.

Lucien didn’t hesitate before lifting his wand and pointing it to the hedge blocking his path. “INCENDIO!”

Fire erupted from his wand, burning a hole clean through the dense mass of branches. He didn’t stop to consider whether this would be considered cheating before leaping through the singed hole in the hedge and tumbling into the path. There were more shouts coming from the stands now, but whether they were in dismay or excitement, Lucien couldn’t tell.

He took off at a run, his senses focused only on that echoing scream. His surroundings melted away, so much so that when something wrapped tightly around his middle it took him a few beats to realize he was no longer moving.

Whatever was wrapped around his middle spread to his legs, stilling him mid-step. Lucien thrashed, fighting against the tightening hold around him. Something was wrapping itself around him- something slick and damp, thick and powerful. For a wild moment he thought it was snakes, but then he registered the bark under his fingers, the wet, earthy smell wrapping around him. He was being crushed by vines.

His already racing heart doubled in intensity as he bucked and pushed against the vines, but the more he fought, the tighter they wrapped around him. A thick branch slithered around his arms, pinning them to his sides.

He had dropped his wand in surprise, and it lay at his feet, useless. In his panic he forgot about the teachers and ministry members surely watching him get attacked- he forgot about the tournament, and the students groaning in sympathy at his plight. He could think only of Elain, screaming in fright in the distance as he failed to reach her. A million scenarios flashed through his mind, each one more outlandish and unlikely than the last.

Death by botany, he thought with a jolt of panicked-induced hilarity. Elain would have known how to get out of this trap, she would haven’t gotten trapped in the first place, she would have, she would have…

“Relax!” A voice cut through the blood pounding in his ears. A voice he would have recognized through any darkness. Lucien thrashed again, only for a vine to wrap itself around his face, smothering him.

“Relax, Lucien!” Elain cried again. “You have to calm down. If you fight back you’ll only make it angrier.”

Easy for you to say, he thought grimly, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he struggled to breathe. A bright light cut through the mess of vines surrounding him like a cocoon, and Lucien squinted against the sudden brightness. Through his cage of vines he spotted a familiar four-legged form, prowling the path in front of him.

Moony. The patronus’ light seemed to pierce through the vines, straight to his heart. He forced himself to go still, to stop fighting against the vice around him. Immediately the vines froze, receding enough for him to gulp down a ragged breath.

“That’s it!” Elain urged. “Just relax. Think of something happy. Pretend you’re conjuring up a patronus.”

Lucien relaxed further, his muscles going limp until the vines were the only thing holding him upright. It felt unnatural, but with a lurch he realized the hold on him was receding. He closed his eyes, filling his mind with images of Elain’s twinkling brown eyes and rosy cheeks.

The vines receded at all once and Lucien fell to the ground in a heap. Elain and her patronus were on him in an instant, the wolf nuzzling at his legs while Elain cradled his face.

“Are you alright?!” she gasped, eyes wide with worry. “I thought that thing was going to squeeze you to death!”

“I’m alright,” Lucien said, his breathing still ragged. “Are you alright? You screamed, I couldn’t find you…”

Elain’s eyes glittered with amusement. “Oh, that wasn’t me, it was Nesta. I saw her in a bit of a tussle with some Blast-Ended Skrewts. She’s alright, through.”

Lucien sagged with relief. “Thank Merlin. I thought- I was so worried…”

I love you and I need you safe in my arms at all times.

The words were on the tip of his tongue, but the background noise of the chattering crowd brought him back to earth. Right. Not the time or place.

Elain squeezed his arm. “You’re cute. Although if I didn’t know better I might suspect you don’t think I can handle myself.”

Lucien huffed a rueful laugh as she helped him to his feet. “I thought every girl wanted a knight in shining armour?”

“A knight in shining armour, yes.” She looked him up and down, from his sodden hair flattened to his head, to his squelching shoes, and flashed a grin. “I’m not sure that you qualify right now, though.”

Lucien looked her over, his metal eye clicking as he checked for any sign of injury. To his relief she looked unharmed- and also, inexplicably, dry. He shivered violently as a gust of wind ripped through the maze.

“How…”

Elain held up a hand and waved her wand in an arc around him. Immediately he was wrapped in a bubble of blissfully warm air, the icy rain held at bay by invisible walls.

Lucien whistled in admiration. “Neat trick.”

“Who’s the damsel in distress now?” she asked with a smirk.

“Me,” he agreed. “Definitely me.”

“Come on,” she urged, grabbing his hand. “We don’t have much time left.”

Lucien glanced at the floating numbers in the sky. Twenty minutes. He retrieved his wand and hurried after her down the path, Moony trotting along on Elain’s other side.

“Do you think they’ll give me extra points for saving you?” she mused.

Lucien laughed, pulling her to a stop when they reached another fork in the road. “Maybe, but I’ll definitely get points for most entertaining.”

“What do you-“

She gasped as he wrapped an arm around her waist, tangling the other in her hair, and dipped her at the waist. Even in the gloom of the maze he could see her cheeks turning violently pink.

“Lucien!”

He cut her off with a kiss. The crowd erupted in violent cheers above them, and Elain’s lips curved into a smile. Lucien set her upright again, and didn’t give her a chance to say anything before turning towards the path on the left.

“See you on the other side, Archie!” he called over his shoulder. Her laughter echoed around the path long after he was enveloped in darkness once more.

The clock continued ticking down as he walked along the path, his way suspiciously clear of any obstacles. When he had fifteen minutes left he did another four-point spell and saw he was heading straight for the center of the maze. He broke into a jog, grinning as he spotted a shimmering light from around a bend in the path a few yards ahead. As he whirled around the corner he came to a sudden halt.

His path was blocked by a wall of fire. The flames stretched as high as the hedges, completely baring the path. They burned so hot that Lucien felt sweat prickle on his brow.

He pointed his wand to the flames, conjuring a stream of clear, cool water. “Aguamenti!”

The water hissed and turned to steam before it even touched the flames. He tried again, and again, and every time the water disappeared inches from the fire.

“Shit,” he swore.

He glanced at the sky and swore again. They barely had ten minutes left. It wasn’t enough time to turn back the way he came- it would take too long to double back and find another way. Besides, Lucien had a nagging feeling that the flames somehow formed a barrier around the center of the maze. He’d have to find another way through.

He moved to the hedges, wondering if he could somehow scale them and jump over the flames, when something caught his gaze. Pots and vials and bottles, sheltered from the rain in a little alcove in the hedge. Lucien crouched down and looked at the labels more closely. Potion-making ingredients. He glanced back at the flames.

“Shit,” he swore again. Another glance at the sky. “Merlin’s saggy tits!” He had exactly eight minutes to correctly mix a fire protection potion, or else find another way through the flames.

He dropped to his knees, wracking his brain for anything about potions related to fire, shielding, or any sort of protection. Suddenly he regretted all those naps he had taken at the back of Professor Hybern’s dungeon classroom. If he made it through this without getting disqualified he vowed to actually start paying attention.

The crowd roared, followed by the unmistakable sound of enchanted fireworks exploding in the sky above him. His stomach sank, until he glanced up and saw a yellow and black badger, made up of a thousand pinpricks of light. He grinned, momentarily distracted from his task. Elain had made it to the center of the maze, and from the sounds of it, she might have been the first one.

He turned back to the bottles and vials, scanning the labels hurriedly. Armadillo bile, sage, peacock feathers, salamander blood, crushed octopus, all useless. Mushrooms, leech juice- Lucien dropped the bottle of vile liquid. Hopeless. This was hopeless, maybe he’d have a better chance if he simply jumped through the flames and hoped someone would extinguish him on the other side…

Just as he was rolling up his sleeves something snagged in his memory. Potions lesson, he and his friends levitating bursting mushrooms under Professor Hybern’s desk and watching him rage as he looked around for the source of the stink. He turned back to the ingredients, scrambling through them, until- there. Tiny, thumbnail-sized mushrooms the color of dirt.

He dumped them out and crushed them into an empty vial with one hand, gagging at the immediate reek as he riffled through the other ingredients. The jar of salamander blood was warm under his fingers, and it hissed as he poured some out into the jar with his crushed mushrooms. Yes, that was it- bursting mushrooms, salamander blood, and…and…

Lucien raked a hand through his damp hair in frustration. There was something else, but he couldn’t for the life of him remember what it was.

With a jolt he remembered the unicorn hair in his pocket. Professor Hybern was always harping on about how dangerous substitutions were, and how disastrous the consequences could be if a recipe was tampered with. The only exceptions were a select few, incredibly powerful magical substances that could be used to override the lack of a certain ingredient.

Another glance at the countdown shimmering in the sky next to the Hufflepuff badger showed he had only four minutes left. It was now or never. And besides, there was no rule about correctly making his way through the flames.

Before he could think too much about it he dumped the shimmering silver hair into the bottle, muttered a quick freezing spell, and shook it, sending up a quick prayer to anyone who would listen. The bottle became cold in his hand, the liquid inside turning the bright blue of a winter sky.

Lucien uncorked it and went to stand in front of the flames. He lifted it in mock salute to the stands around him, and the crowd erupted. The liquid was so cold that it burned on the way down- like drinking liquid ice. A shiver went through him as the potion took effect. It was extremely discomforting, as though there was ice flowing through his veins.

He took a deep breath and held it as he stepped into the flames. The fire wrapped around him, blurring his vision of the maze. But where it should have burned, the fire merely ruffled his hair like a warm summer breeze. Another step and he was on the other side, the ruckus from the Gryffindor stands growing even louder.

He squinted into the darkness, suddenly blinded after the brightness of the flames.

And came face-to-face with Briallyn Skeeter, poisonous smile on her face, acid-green quill poised over her parchment.

---

Lucien jumped to his feet the moment Eris stepped into the champions’ tent. His brother was smiling, though it looked slightly forced.

“What is she doing here?” Elain growled next to him by way of greeting. Eris winced and led them out of the tent, away from the other champions.

Nesta, it turned out, had not won her battle with the Blast-Ended Skrewts, but had still been awarded a few points for her resourcefulness with the other obstacles she faced. Rhysand had managed to get through the fire barrier with seconds to spare, though had somehow managed to light himself on fire in the process. His usually sleek midnight-black hair was still smoking slightly at the edges. Elain had gotten almost top marks, with Lucien close behind, which left the current standings as Elain in first, Lucien second, and Rhys and Nesta tied for third.

Behind a closed curtain Nesta was being attended to by Madam Majda, who had been complaining in an endless stream about the danger of the competition. And in the other corner, sitting in front of a smug-looking Rhys, sat Brially Skeeter, special correspondent for the daily Prophet, and, it would appear, pinch-hitter judge.

“Hello to you too,” Eris drawled once they were back in the icy rain. From the other side of the tent they would hear the ruckus of hundreds of excited students walking back towards the castle. “And congratulations on your victory.”

“Eris,” Lucien urged. “What is that salamander doing here?”

“It was father’s idea,” Eris admitted through gritted teeth. “Press combined with a stand-in judge, wrapped in one.”

“And Professor Spell-Cleaver was ok with this?” Elain asked, voicing what Lucien had just been thinking. He didn’t know why that fact was even more upsetting than her being here, but for some reason it felt like a betrayal.

“From the look on his face when he saw her, I’d be willing to bet he had no idea.”

Elain glared at the tent with such venom that Lucien was surprised it didn’t immediately burst into flames. “I hope she burns in hell.”

“I couldn't agree more,” Eris said with a vicious grin. “But just ignore her, you don’t have to answer her questions. Hopefully Rhys gives her enough bullshit for her article to focus on him.”

Somehow Lucien seriously doubted that would be the case.

“Look,” Eris continued, glancing around to make sure they were alone. “The thing you asked me about-“

Elain visibly brightened. “The Hall of Prophecies?”

“Shh!” His brother looked around them again, uncharacteristically nervous. “Yes. That.”

“Have you found anything useful?” Lucien asked, not daring to hope.

“Well, I’ve managed to, how should I say, get closer to my friend who works in the Department of Mysteries.” Lucien choked on a laugh as Elain clapped a hand to her mouth. “She had some interesting information about the…large friends you asked about.”

“What did she say?” Lucien blurted. Elain’s fingers were a vice around his.

“Well,” Eris glanced around again and leaned in closer. “It turns out there have been sightings of them, but the reports have all been swept under the rug before they could reach certain ears.”

“Which ears?” Lucien asked, though he had a feeling he already knew the answer.

“Our dear father’s, of course.”

“You’re saying…”

“You’re saying there’s people within the ministry withholding information from the Minister?” Elain asked, stunned.

“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” Eris answered grimly.

“And you had no idea about this?” Lucien pressed.

“Well, you can imagine why people might be a bit reluctant to rope me into a scheme to hide information from the Minister,” Eris replied drily.

Elain winced. “Fair enough. But what does this mean? Why are they there?”

“I have no idea,” Eris admitted, brow furrowed. “But I might have found a solution to our other problem. My friend agreed to help us.”

Lucien raised an eyebrow. His brother shrugged casually. “I have my ways. It’s going to take some time though. I’ll send you a signal when it’s all prepared.”

“Our problem?” Elain asked in a small voice.

Eris’ eyebrows rose in surprise. “Pardon?”

“You said our problem.”

Eris’ frown lifted into a savage smile. “You didn’t think I was going to let you have all the fun, did you? But in the meantime, for Merlin’s sake, try to lie low, will you?”

“Yea, mother,” Lucien quipped with a grin.

Eris shook his head darkly. “I mean it, Lucien. Something’s brewing, and I don’t like it. And for fuck’s sake, do not leave the grounds under any circumstances. All Hogwarts students are safe within the grounds, but outside…”

Lucien glanced at the Forbidden Forest in the distance, and the mountains beyond. As if he could get a glimpse of the beings that dwelled there, hidden from view. Someone had brought them there for a reason. They were waiting for something, he realized. He just didn’t know what that could be.

And he had a bad feeling he didn’t really want to know, either.

Taglist (taking a guess here, let me know if you'd like to be added/removed!): @labellefleur-sauvage @headcanonheadcase @separatist-apologist @velidewrites @c-e-d-dreamer @queercontrarian

[squids-and-jellyfish]

The Phantom Thief

part 3

Chapter 2 the Luau

The Luau

   “Ugh I don't know what to wear” she grumbled to herself. How formal was this luau supposed to be? And is it in theme, would everyone be dressed in grassed skirts and Leis around their neck. She kept digging through her unpacked suitcase, clothes strewn across the floor. Finally deciding on a pink tank top and green shorts with a floral trim. Claire grabbed her backpack and slung it over her shoulders. Packed the night before with some spices, a juice melon and a few hot peppers. She wanted to be sure she didn't forget anything today. The mayor's words echoed in her mind, everything must be perfect. 

     He had only said to bring ingredients. Surely he meant just that and not an actual dish. She checked the watch on her wrist, 9:45. Shit. No time left to stress about it now. The invitation left at her door this morning said it started promptly at 10. If she left right this instant she could get there on time. Barely. She locked the door behind her before leaving the farm. 

     It took 5 minutes just to get to the town. A relatively small village. It consisted of all the essentials though.  A school, a church, a general store and even an inn. A large sign hung in an old wooden archway, “Misty Cove” symbolized she was officially there. Passing through the gateway she thought to herself, it was aptly named. Each morning the whole village was encased in a misty fog shortly after the sun began to rise. 

   She hurriedly walked passed home after home until she found herself in the village square. Most festivals and events were held there. Any given day it was always busy with chatter and laughter. Bustling with life. Housewives gossiping over a cup of tea sitting at benches. The florist had her daily booth, selling bouquets and seeds. Filling the area with the sweet aroma of various blooms. On nice days the psychic would set up outside beside her. And the bakers coffee and bread would mix with the flowers, outside his shop would smell like home. Edna, who liked to go by Granny, usually was around tending the gardens that encircle the town center while keeping an eye on the children. 

    Today however, it felt like a ghost town. Not a soul in soul sight. Leaving her walk eerily quiet. Without all the fresh scents swirling around, the air smelled almost stale and dusty like an attic. An uneasy feeling sent chills down her spine. Causing her to quicken her pace even more. The small graveyard came into sight.  A large oak sat in the middle surrounded by headstones in various states of crumbling.  The weirdest part was the grass never seemed to grow. Perpetually dead, crispy and brown. You would think if anything the decaying matter acted as a fertilizer.  Encouraging lush green growth. 

    Just a little further she thought. I'm almost there. Music filled her ears as she grew closer to the path for the beach. She relaxed, releasing the breath she had been holding for much longer than she realized.  Relief washed over her as she entered the beach. 

   “You made it!” A loud excited voice boomed. “We were all getting worried you slacked off or forgot about us” the overly cheerful Thomas chuckled. “I was about to deploy a search party for you”. Claire checked her watch again, 10:01. She was a whole one minute late and he was acting like it had been hours. 

   “Now tell me Claire, did you remember the goods?” he asked, winking with the eye behind his monocle. “The …goods?” she started to ask in response but was abruptly cut off. “YES Claire,” Mayor Thomas interjected with a condescending tone raising his eyebrows. “You're best most valuable gold star produce from your farm. Use that beautiful head of yours to think. Silly little peach.” That made her stomach turn. 

    Nudging the man standing next to him, “What did I tell you, she's not very bright is she. Now be a dear will you and go add what you've brought to stew. Can you handle that or do you need one of the men to do it for you?” “I can do it myself” she glared at him before turning to the large pot.