#anyways STYLE SO PRETTY EYEBALLS WATERING

[whorefordazai]

Ayo, I know ur requests are closed, but I saw your gender bent hc, and honestly the boys being the ones genderbent would be 👌👌👌

I had too much fun writing this 😏 and was kinda confused on what pronouns to use when describing them so uhh (him/her???)

bsd boys: gender bend edition

ft. dazai | chuuya | oda | aku x reader

genre: fluff, slight nsfw

warnings: slight depictions of sex

Dazai

Y’all think normal dazai is pretty? Just imagine him as a woman 🙈 FUCKIDN LORD🏃🏼‍♀️

Just imagine him with long messy brown hair, the same outfit but like hotter.

If he were to become a woman out of nowhere, the first thing he’d do is flash himself in the mirror to inspect his boobs🕺

“Wow...these look so majestic, I feel so lucky😧 is this what you do every time you’re in front of a mirror, belladonna?”

“...not every time...ಥ‿ಥ”

Would definitely boost his ego 100x more because now he can seduce men too😏

But dazai, why was seducing men your first thought 😄

Imagine giving dazai head oh fuck

“Y-y/n...” Dazai’s soft moans whimper from under you. You chuckle onto the soft skin between his legs. His hands grip the sheets and he tilt his head back in pleasure.

“Make some more noise for me, pretty girl.”

Anyways😏🤚

Getting his first fucking period. He has no idea what to do haha! Blood is everywhere, his stomach hurts, he feels as though he really wants to kill himself right this moment.

“I hate being a woman ಠ_ಠ”

“Babe, you should get used to this.”

You help him clean up and get him some light snacks along with a heating pad. Both of you snuggle up on the couch. Your arms wrapped around Dazai’s small figure🥺

“Y/n, can you sleep on my boobs?”

“...why ᇂ_ᇂ?”

“I wanna see what it feels like ◕ ◡ ◕”

“...okay ʘ‿ʘ?”

You softly lower your head onto his chest, careful not to hurt him. Wrapping your arms around his waist, you bury your face in his shirt.

A giggle escapes Dazai’s lips. “Wait, that tickles!”

“Squish...squish...” you mumble, softly squeezing his boobs like a plushie.

“Okay, how do they feel ^ｰ^?”

“...very nice. They feel very nice ಠ◡ಠ”

He wears some of your clothes on the daily, but now he’ll wear almost half your wardrobe.

He feels really pretty in all those dresses you have oh my🙂

Chuuya

He’s already so hot and pretty, just imagine him as a girl. HOLY FUCK🏃🏼‍♀️

Curly red hair, that signature fedora, and even that choker around his neck. BUT ADD BLACK EYELINER OSHHS

He would definitely feel a little weird in his new body. Wouldn’t exactly like it at first and will definitely be complaining.

Give it a few days and let him look in the mirror and see how hot he looks as a woman😏

“Y/n...you’re still...attracted to me, right?”

“...babe, you have no idea ●‿●”

His attitude is the same so now people are even more scared of him. At first glance someone would think he’s just a cute little sweet girl but then BOOM he kicks them 20 feet into the air (only if they piss him off)

He now has the double struggle of being short and being a girl 👩‍🦯

FASHION SHOWS !!

This mf loves styling himself and looking really damn good, so once he finds out there’s a whole new world of outfits he can try on as a woman...just know you’ll be shopping for a while.

He’s a fucking mafiosa, always dressed in sleek black outfits with a hat that lets his red curls peek out. The black lace veil hiding his blue eyes just pulls the whole outfit together so well

He sometimes lets you do his makeup cuz he thinks he looks prettier with. The both of you will paint each other’s nails (he is somehow is very good at it. Anything you wanna tell us, Chuuya🧐?)

You thought you liked chuuya dominant as a male? Honey, you ain’t ready for him as a woman🏃🏼‍♀️

“Am I making you feel good, baby?” Chuuya looks up from the space between your legs. A few strands of his red hair fall onto your skin as he moves them away. You shiver, feeling his smooth fingertips dangerously graze against your core.

You can only nod, feeling his soft lips leave a trail of kisses on your inner thigh. The faint print of red lipstick followed the trail.

RED LIPSTICK ON YOUR INNER THIGH HOLY FUCKSJ🏃🏼‍♀️💨

Oda

I’M GONNA CRY he would be (already is) SO HOT

At first he wouldn’t have much of a reaction like, okay? I’m a woman now.

Little does he know there’s more to it than that😆

He’d go about his day like normal, sometimes even forgetting that he’s a woman now. But his hair keeps getting in his face?? Men keep staring at him?? Some kid thought he was his grandma??

It was sweet at first, but it was so overwhelming and uncomfortable.

He comes home, in slight frustration. Exhaling as he closes the door and begins to take off his coat, something harshly tugs at his hair.

His hair was stuck on the mf zipper ಠ_ಠ

You try to hold in your laughter at his misfortune. “Here, let me help.”

While you’re untangling his hair, his face remains still and stoic. “When will this be over ᇂ_ᇂ?”

He is actually very suddenly interested in skincare. Why? Not sure.

He sometimes sees you putting on all these serums and face masks but never felt the need to ask you about it. Plus, you sometimes helped him shave-that was the closest thing to skin care this man has ever gotten to.

But now he has a face of a woman, so his skin feels a lot smoother and softer. He thinks to himself, should I be taking care of it?? What were all those things y/n was putting on her face🧐?

WAIT THATS SO CUTE OSKJS🏃🏼‍♀️💨

So you help tie his hair into a pony tail and the both of you put on face masks😆

He somehow really enjoys doing all these self care tasks that he’s never thought about in his life🤔

Imagine the both of you sitting in a bathtub, rose petals covering the water. Your heads are wrapped up in towels as you sip on wine. Cucumbers are placed on Oda’s eyes.

He could get used to this😏

Sexy time🙈

He’s a very quiet dom on the usual, but suddenly he’s very vocal when he gets his pussy ate‼️

He’ll love it when you top. Now he kinda knows how you feel when he’s pounding into you 😏

If oda actually had kids as a woman, he would a A HOT MILF😳

Akutagawa

He’d be like what the fuck is happening ಠ_ಠ?

Wouldn’t give much of a reaction on the outside (pretending to play it cool) but on the inside he’s having 20 mental breakdowns at the same time.

Please help him😁

He’ll definitely dismiss you saying “I can handle it myself ಠ_ಠ”

“Ryu, your hair is in knots and you’re limping on your heels ◔_◔”

“...ಠ~ಠ”

Taking a bath is now even more difficult for him. He feels embarrassed even looking at himself. His chest has these two lumps and his hips suddenly have curves and his skin feels smoother and softer.

His boobs catch his eye in every outfit he wears. No one else really notices or cares except him. Finally one day, he’s had enough. He stomps to you with a determined face, pointing at his chest.

“I want these off. Now ᇂ_ᇂ”

“...I don’t think it works like that...◕ ◡ ◕?”

Eventually he’ll have to adapt. He’s still the same person but just imagine aku as a hot emo goth girl 🕺

Will be 10x scarier than before now that he’s discovered black eyeliner and actually likes growing his nails out (reminds him of claws to rip off people eyeballs)

It’s a love/hate relationship tbh LMAO sometimes he loves how powerful he feels in high heels. Other times, he hates how others look down on him just because they underestimate how powerful he is (even as a woman)

Can I just add, Atsushi almost did a double take and called aku “the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen” before he found out it was aku ಥ‿ಥ

Aku noticed, Atsushi noticed that he noticed, and they both just decided to keep silent and move on as if it never happened 🤝

[bookwyrminspiration]

Hi! I'm startingto do eyeliner on my eyes, and I've seen a couple of your pictures. Your eyeliner always looks amazing! Could I please have some eyeloner tips? Thank you!

Hello! Thanks for the compliments, you're very sweet <3. Eyeliner can be super fun, so I'd love to help anyway I can as you get started. I've found a few things that work for me, so maybe some of those will be useful tips! I'll kinda just share what I know/do, including technique, products, and mindset

A few of the photos I've included as reference are a little blurry because they're zoomed in, but all the IDs are in alt text. If you've ever wanted to see several up close photos of my eyeballs you're in luck!

to save everyone's dash space because this got kinda long (like always), everything is under the cut :)

Importantly, don't expect it to look good at first. The first dozen or so times you try, odds are you're going to be washing it off immediately after. That's okay! That's expected! It takes a level of practice to figure out what you're doing enough so that you're satisfied enough to wear it out. Experiment when you've got free-time and aren't going anywhere and don't worry about whether or not it's good. It's more for practice and getting comfortable with your tools

Also, as a beginner, I recommend you use an eyeliner marker/pen with a brush tip. Those are what I've found are more friendly to learning, and brush tips in general just wear down less. Felt ones are fine, but they can kinda degrade. Brushes can have brustles sticking out as they wear down, but that won't impact your pen as much. As for using a pen, I find them easier to work with when you're learning/experimenting because you don't have to dip to refill or deal with the consistency of dip eyeliner. There can be some upsides to them, but for your purposes I think a marker is fine. I personally like the Nyx Epic Ink Liner in black.

Waterproof doesn't mean it's better. In fact, because you're practicing, I advise against something waterproof! You hear people praising waterproof eyeliners all the time, and they can be useful, but what that also means is that it's harder to take off and you'll probably need another product. And just because a liner says it's waterproof doesn't necessarily mean it is--like the Nyx one I use. it says it's waterproof, but with a bit of rubbing it'll come off with water, which is great! I don't need any specific makeup remover to take it off, I just need to wash my face. if you're experimenting, it's super helpful for your liner to be easy to remove

Sometimes you won't be super thorough and get every inch of skin. In a lot of the photos, you can see slivers of skin close to my eyelashes, or some are patchy in color. The slivers are because when I'm looking straight on, and looking around, you can't tell, so I don't always bother to fill that part in. They're more visible in these photos because I'm looking slightly down, but in real life it's unnoticable. Then the patchy coloring is because my liner is old and more dried out, making it less even when I fill it in. Also could be a bit of wear after a few hours, it happens with some liners.

Your eyeliner will not match. You can get pretty close! But identical liner is both very difficult and not that important. Instead, you want them to be passable as similar. Mostly the same shape, mostly the same angle, mostly the same thickness. People aren't going to be analyzing whether or not your liner matches, they'll just get a general impression of your face and fill in the gaps. So take a step back to gauge if they're passable; they don't have to be perfect. Sometimes they're a little off and shaped slightly different, and that's still passable and good enough!

Play around with different shape eyeliners to find your shape. If you look at all the eyeliner pictures I have of myself below, you can kinda see that they're almost all based on one original shape. That's because that's the style of eyeliner I like the look of on me! I'm not a huge fan of the cat-eye shape, so I go for more of a straight out shape. I got good at that shape so I could manipulate it into other, more complicated looking (but actually easy) designs. Try different things to see what appeals to you!

If you want to try this style, here's how I approach it. It's essentially a triangle on the corner of your eye, so I draw a horizontal line from the corner of my eye, then two lines originating from that to connect back to my eye, then fill that in. A tip for that is to not start the second lines from the very end of the first one you drew, that way it keeps the sharp tip. Here's a graphic:

Keep your eyes relaxed as you do this, that way the line looks closer to what it will naturally look like when you're looking around. If you have your eyes super open when drawing the shape but your eyes generally are more closed, then it won't match, which can be annoying

Only stretch the skin for details/clean up. The skin of your eyes can feel annoyingly pliant, which makes you want to hold it down and pull it taut while you draw the shape to make it easier. This will instead make things look weird, same as keeping your eyes super open. If there are parts you need to fill in or you want to smooth out lines you've already drawn, that's when pulling the skin for easier drawing will help!

Brace your arm!! Set your elbow on something when you're doing your eyeliner, it give you way more control. I personally have mine set on the bathroom counter as I lean over it to get closer to the mirror.

Be close to the mirror. You don't need to shove your whole face right up next to it, but if you're closer you can see better and that helps you be precise. I'm typically around six inches away from the mirror and angle my head slightly to either side to see my eyes better

Another eyeliner-ish thing you could try if you're experimenting and not confident on your linework is eyeshadow in the shape of eyeliner! It doesn't require crisp lines, so there can be less stress over getting things right and it's quicker. This does require a brush and an eyeshadow though (and primer if you want it to last better), which are different products. You take the same approach as when you're using eyeliner, drawing the same lines, just filling it in with eyeshadow instead. This way you can familiarize yourself with the shape and play around! Here's an example:

See how this is kinda smudgy? That way there's no worrying about details. It's a lot quicker because of that, but it also doesn't last as long. If you use a primer (any primer just on the eye area) it'll last longer than just shadow on skin, but it's definitely not as long lasting as eyeliner. I personally love it for quick outings or when I'm short on time. The white bottom lashes and colorful inner corner are optional :)

That's my approach to basic shapes, but it's not much different when it comes to doing things a little bit fancier. If you want to do something like spikes like I do, then it's the same technique but just starting from a different point. Like these:

For both typical and more unique liner, find natural lines or spots on your eye that you can recognize and use as a guide. This makes it easier to replicate on the other eye and day to day. For example, for these kinds of spikes I follow the natural line of my eye (the pink), because that's easy to find. For the basic eyeliner, it's the corner of my eye. I always start there, so there's always something common and I have a better sense of what I'm doing

The same three line approach won't work if you're going for an outline because it'll have a line down the middle, but if you get comfortable with the three line shape, you can more confidently do just two without the first pink line. I only use this when I am doing something outlined, as the three lines is very reliable for me. But that could look something like this:

These are more curved because I felt like it that day, but the same logic applies for the straight lines!

Finally, once you've gotten that base down and are comfortable doing something more, you really don't need to do anything complex to add a little something! Here's a few examples of things you can do in a matter of seconds to add extra detail and make you feel amazing about your abilities!!

Colorful inner corners, a colorful shadow under your liner, little mini spikes coming off the bottom to mimic lashes:

I like to match it to my hair and depending on where I'm going/who I'll be with, I'll change how heavily I apply.

Extra shapes--can be in the same eyeliner color or different!

White bottom lashes or lining your water line in white! Which you can also see in the above picture. For the lashes I use a white eyeliner, which is a liquid dip, and used the brush to paint it over the lashes. I have the Nyx Epic Wear liner in white, but there are others you can find. This can feel pretty weird and also get on your upper lashes as it dries and be difficult to remove, but it's also fun! For the waterline I use any stick liner--do not use liquid liner anywhere but skin! I currently have a gel liner from nyx in white, not any one specifically.

(you can also do this with other colors!! I just don't have those or photos of those right now)

But yeah! That's what I do for my liner and a few reminders to help you get started. This is just my technique and approach, so it won't work or appeal to everyone. There are plenty of others online who like different styles and have different experience than can also be of assistance.

The last thing I'll say is once you know what you're doing, give yourself break days. Eyeliner can make you feel great, but if you're wearing it consistently don't forget to have days where you don't wear it so you don't forget what your face looks like. Just helps to touch base and ground yourself because the eyeliner is an accessory, not who you are. When school is in session and I'm wearing eyeliner every day of the week, for me the break days are the weekends, that way I see myself in mirrors without eyeliner for a few days and don't lose touch.

Hopefully some of that was helpful! If you have more specific questions, just let me know and I'll do my best to answer them! Really a lot of it just comes down to practice and finding what you like, so I wish you luck <33

[horanghoe]

Spider-Boy Is A Dog In This One (2/3)

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OR Back to ~ SVT Masterlist

Spider-Boy Is A Dog In This One - (1 / 3)

Spider-Boy Is A Dog In This One - (2 / 3)

Spider-Boy Is A Dog In This One - (3 / 3) - FINALE

Author: spookyhyuck

Pairing: Kwon Soonyoung, or Hoshi / Reader

Rating: 18 + (Part 3 includes NSFW smut, swearing throughout)

Genre: Supernatural AU / Fluff / Angst / Smut / General A/B/O goodness heh

Warnings (Other): Swearing used throughout; smut mentioned only in part 3 but sexual/adult references throughout. Mentions of heat, A/B/O power play, etc. Mentions of being cornered by males in the first part. One night stands. Let me know if you want me to add anything else here!

Warnings (Part 3 Smut): A lot of power play, consensual throughout. Slight use of bad-mouthing and downgrading. Hand restriction, spanking. Fluff at the end. Mentions of the usual A/B/O filth!

Synopsis: Bitten by a stray dog, you thought you would be able to sail through this weird illness, no problem. Well, you thought wrong. Got scared, changed your biological path and found love along the way. Oh, fate. You cruel, cruel mistress.

Word Count: 14,786 (14.7k / Total Approx. 40k)

Special mentions: @slightlymore /@slightlymore-main, literally everyone I coerced into proofreading this and not expressing its 101 page length,@chocolvte , and lastly @raibebe for simply being a furry. We see u sis

Artistic property of spookyhyuck - all rights reserved. Reposting and modifying of any medium is not permitted.

PART TWO / THREE

Two days.

Two days you had been stuck in this stupidly expensive hotel room.

Every time you had tried to leave - against Hoshi’s instruction to ‘Sit tight, I’ll be back soon’ - a supernatural kind of sickness had settled into your gut and you drowned in an unreasonable amount of anxiety. Cancelling your Ubers' as soon as they arrived.

Your last dash to grab some more pre-paid suppressants from the pharmacy dock resulted in your limbs quite literally freezing up as soon as you hit the open reception area. An embarrassing altercation with a nurse and a stretcher was something that you would never live down.

In your mind, it was fairly obvious to the staff members what must have been happening.

A panicked and delirious young female paired with a disappearing high-profile Alpha male… Well, it was a little more eyeball-grabbing than the average coupling in the hotel.

You couldn’t imagine that the werewolf hospitality industry was clean of pimps, but heavens above you hoped they didn’t see Hoshi as one. He was far too kind.

Well, from what you had gaged in the short time of knowing each other, anyways.

Hell, you were surprised your hall-mates hadn’t filed a legal complaint against your k-drama style crying so late into the first night. You were sure that by now the whole floor had heard you sob so much they could splice the sound and make a mixtape.

Body burning up from the inside out, Hoshi had run you a bath in a rush to leave. He left you to scramble in there with some dignity - the cold water barely scraped off the heat surfacing out of your muscles though, which was pretty alarming. You had to dip your scalp under as you held yourself, bawling like a child, just to get some sense of relief. You’d suffered from the flu as a teenager, but this shit was truly beginning to hit differently.

Hoshi had messaged you occasionally. Ordering suppressors to your door when needed. He had asked a specific nurse to be on call to you on your coupled entrance; numbers exchanged between the three of you and suppressors pressed into your hands.

Having this arranged on your behalf, meant that you could avoid an embarrassing and clueless conversation with a canine sex-ed nurse that had the potential to embarrass you for the rest of eternity.

And for this act of kindness, you were eternally grateful.

The two pills came in a small branded box. One for before a meal to aid in the ‘speedy recovery��� of your body after the heat had begun (aka the equivalent of birth control for human women, shortening the window in which your symptoms appeared and allowing you to regulate them after the first two months or so). And another to suppress ‘sexual inconveniences’. Whatever the hell that meant. You were due to portray signs of ‘lust’ according to the questionably serious medical sheet.

Brilliant. So you were due to become disgustingly ill and horny. Well hey, when it rains it pours, right?

You were meant to take at least one three times a day - of which you ended up taking both because well, fuck it - and you had safely doubled up under the nurses’ careful instructions, just to be able to sail through the transformation smoothly, apparently.

The nurse was lovely. She explained what the bite meant biologically; why you had attached to Hoshi so quickly. She explained how the suppressors worked, how they would aid in your body's recovery in about two weeks. They sounded great and all, but fuck, they did nothing to ease the pain. Only your symptoms. Your dose had barely even been able to contain the heat bubbling under your skin.

Conversations with Hoshi were short and abrupt, but considerate. Constant small checkups. He didn’t want to overwhelm you, but you were on his mind at least once every hour.

You were growing on him.

Having to choose between nursing a fated stranger versus dealing with a security breach involving his younger pack members, truly tore his moral-heavy heart in two.

He had explained to you as he left, with pain behind his eyes, why he needed to leave.

His pack needed him in the furthest southern building for important security division meetings. A younger member had been attacked by a rival pack, half a city over. Smaller in size, but twice as vicious as their group had ever been.

As much as you appreciated the millions of dollars and people’s honours that were at stake, you also considered how much you wanted his job to go fuck itself. Politely, and with respect.

You wanted - no, needed - him there, with you. If voiced, Hoshi would have agreed that the sentiment was selfish but true.

After being dropped off at the hotel, Hoshi had left to grab your belongings from your apartment. But he never returned.

Hoshi - Y/N!!!

He texted suddenly, around midnight that Friday eve. Through tears in your eyes, you held your cracked phone over the side of the bath.

Hoshi - I’m sorry, I won’t be able to join you for food tonight!!

Hoshi - I actually

Hoshi - I won’t be able to grab your clothes from your apartment either…

Hoshi - I’m so sorry, Y/N, I’ll make it up to you I swear :((

Hoshi - Boss has asked me to stay with our younger brother (Mingyu, the rascal I told you about) until things have cooled down over here.

District 25. Half an hour down the coastline in his fast black car, but a hell of a lot longer if you ever tried to make it there.

Not that you could even consider that in your current condition; body shaking as you struggled to dry yourself off and enter the cold duvet.

You struggled even just trying to shovel down the expensive room service food, that was ordered purely out of the necessity of having enough energy to deal with this stupid infection. The once appealing meal was now just cold, dead noodles.

You recalled the mention of Hoshi’s younger brother, Kim Min Gyu. Otherwise called Mingyu by his family. He often found himself in tricky situations that involved defending his members as they reached out to make offers of unity to smaller packs. He was a big guy with a short temper and a heart too soft for his own good.

Night two of your stay had been the hardest.

You had used the last of your strength to push your room's furniture into the corners of the room as a sort of mania set in. Part of your conscious mind was scared you had finally gone insane. With unruly anxiety making you unable to stay still, you had felt the sudden need and want to push all the obtrusive wood as far away as possible.

The room left a bad taste in your mouth you couldn’t shake off, and you opted to leave the windows wide open and blinds half shut. The steady waft of the cool night’s breeze settled your form hiding beneath the cocoon of night sheets and was welcome in this space.

You hoped Hoshi wouldn’t be much longer.

You found yourself thinking about him in that quiet room. Burnished with forest patterns and dark blue accents glittering with silver stars. It was as garish in design as it was stylistic and oddly comforting.

Hoshi - Y/N?

Your phone pinged. Looking down to see who it was that had texted you, well… you swallowed the smile that ached to show. Were you falling for a stranger so fast? It made your head spin. But even from so far away, you knew you were connected. Your gut said that much.

Y/N - Soonyoung? Is everything okay over there, was worried

Hoshi - Hi petal, all good over here, not much to report tbh

The nickname distracted you from the cramps in your muscles, forcing you to wipe away your tears just to see the screen.

Hoshi - How are you? Any better? I’ve been worried ….. :(

Hoshi - Send me your card details, I’ll transfer money for food into your account

Hoshi - I won’t be able to join you tonight, either…

He was being honest, at least. You smiled -you could almost see his frown through his texts.

Y/N - Don’t be silly!!

Y/N - You’ve paid for so much already

Hoshi - Y/N… please. Send the deets.

You smiled, hearing that tone of a whine in your mind. What was happening to you?

Y/N - Careful, or the hotel staff might start thinking you’re holding me hostage

Y/N - actually, on second thoughts

Y/N - pretty sure they already think you’re my escort or something

Y/N - pls clear that up with them when you come back, I don’t need that on my conscience!!

Hoshi had thrown his head back with a short laugh. Your humour was addictive, making him shake his head as your bank details came through a little while after.

Y/N - !!!!!! SOONYOUNG !!!! TOO MUCH !!!!!

Y/N - !!!!! FCK A DUCK !!!!!!!

Y/N - I'M A STRANGER !!!! OH MY lord

Y/N - is this blood money istg

Y/N - pls take some of it back, thank you but omg, Hoshi

Y/N - oh lords above

Y/N - I’m sure I’ve just been put on a government watchlist because of this

Y/N - Soonyoung... thank you… it's too much …. :,)

Mingyu had teased his friend. The smile on Hoshi’s cheeks had creased his eyes to his cheeks as he received the notification that eight hundred dollars had been successfully transferred to your account.

He had barely blinked when transferring the money into your account, but you were enamoured. (And actually, you were sort of disgusted that he could even transfer that amount of money with minimal pain.).

Hoshi - I’m sorry I can’t be with you yet…. Please eat well 🌼

Hoshi - Do you need clothes ?

Your tears were back. Sniffling furiously from the sadness of remaining alone tonight, but most likely being hit with a wave of hormones, your emotions were being pushed to the extreme.

At that moment, that was the kindest thing anyone had ever done for you.

Hoshi - I won’t be able to get there till tomorrow earliest, but I could order some?

Hoshi - or you could, with the money. Sorry, I hope that didn’t come across pervy 😓

Y/N - haha, ur good

Y/N - I’m not really wearing much rn anyways, so I'm good for now, ty though :)

Y/N - Ty for the food!!! And the blood money !!!!!!!!

Typing before thinking through what you were doing, Hoshi received the innocent text. Only, his brain registered it and sent blood rushing straight through his chest and down to his crotch.

Hoshi - ahh, I see

Hoshi - No worries :)

He typed back simply. Sweating mentally. A pause happened before he had to tear himself away from the phone, leaving you to order your own food and cry into cold noodles once again. You had money in the bank, your phone. But your health was ‘fucked’ according to google and you had spiralled into complete and utter loneliness.

Hoshi - Hey, Y/N. I’m sorry, but I’ve gtg

Hoshi - S coups is calling

Hoshi - Please, eat well without me!!! Stay safe and message if you need anything 🌼

Hoshi - I’ll be there soon, I promise

Staring at your phone, you sobbed louder than the night before. Now you had a reason to. Your one line to security was being cut off. You managed to type back with shaking hands before throwing your phone to the side, damaging it further. It slipped off the side table and onto the hard surface floor with a loud crack.

Y/N - night, see you soon… please stay safe

The screen flickered on the floor, before fuzzing out entirely. You never received his final messages, sobbing now you had broken your one last security. He was never coming to see you and you were going to be thrown out of this hotel on Monday morning. Broken, and afraid.

Hoshi - !!!

Hoshi - Of course… &lt;3

Hoshi, undelivered - Please tell me how tomorrow goes, I couldn’t sleep thinking how much you must be in pain. How shitty it is that I left you there without a friend :(

Hoshi, undelivered - I’m sorry

Hoshi, undelivered - I’ll be there tomorrow, if everything works out

Hoshi, undelivered - Please wait for me, Y/N. Goodnight

Hoshi, undelivered - Sleep well 🌼 - 🐯

Sunday 7:15 am

Hoshi, undelivered - Y/N?

Hoshi, undelivered - I should be over tonight at about 8 pm

Hoshi, undelivered - Shall I stay? We could order some food :)

Hoshi frowned. Immediately concerned as to why nothing was being sent properly. Not being an expert at technology he shrugged it off at first, presuming that it was the messaging app just fucking up again. Last month they almost leaked everyone’s numbers so this was barely any different to him.

Sunday 12:48 pm

Hoshi, undelivered - Y/N?

Hoshi, undelivered - Hope you’re getting these even if you’re not responding

Hoshi, undelivered - Stupid messaging server probably has a bug in it again

Sunday 2 pm

Hoshi, undelivered - I’ll be over at 9, things got pushed back a bit. Let me know how things are going. What food to bring later

Sunday 2:28 pm

Hoshi, undelivered - ???

Sunday 4:11 pm

Hoshi, undelivered - Y/N, is something wrong?

Hoshi, undelivered - I’m starting to get worried

Sunday 4:55 pm

Hoshi, undelivered - Please message back? Are you okay????

Hoshi was concerned. This was the first instance in which you had seemingly outright ignored him.

Along with his messages not sending, Hoshi could feel in his body that something was off. For the rest of his security detail, he was pissy and miserable. Dokyeom only irritated his mood further, a slight altercation unknowingly being watched by his older brother, Joshua.

He managed to catch Hoshi as he headed out to get some food from the vending machine, grabbing his bicep to lead him quietly into an empty meeting room.

“Hyung?!” Hoshi had yelped, surprised. But ultimately he silently accepted his older brother’s ambush.

Once in the empty meeting room, Joshua leaned on the edge of the expensive and very wide mahogany table. Arms crossed over his chest before nodding to the younger wolf.

“What’s going on, Soon’? You’ve been distracted since lunch and your whole aura has been reading as off for the whole day. I’m not the only one who’s noticed, you bit at DK earlier for practically no reason.”

Hoshi blanched, shocked. Fear and upset bubbled up into his chest and transformed his anger into confusion. His rush to defend himself showed his vulnerability, which was a huge sign something was going on.

“I-I’m not - This job is so stupid and I’ve been called out for practically no reason other than to look pretty, when I could be anywhere else -” Hoshi started to shout, tears springing to his eyes.

His brother stood, walking into the flood to ground him. He saw the pain behind the anger in the way his eyes shook, barely a light red. Something was hurting his heart.

“Easy, Hosh. Take a breath.” He uttered patiently, keeping an affectionate hand on his brother’s arm.

Hoshi submitted, head dipping as he dipped to sit in the nearest chair. He wiped at his eyes with a whine, shoulders tensed.

Joshua, the calm and gentle soul he was, chose not to react to his anger. Instead, he moved to sit in front of his brother. Reaching a hand to the back of Hoshi’s neck, squeezing there reassuringly.

His younger brother was in pain, he could read that much. But he was having a little trouble understanding where it was coming from.

“Is it the company?” Joshua asked gently. Hoshi shook his head, heat rushing to his neck as he held in his tears. Joshua hummed in thought.

“The security position?” Hoshi was slower to shake his head this time, but his blonde locks swooped side to side. Joshua carded his hands through the back of his hair lovingly, placing them back to their stylised spot.

“Your brothers?” Another shake.

“Is it something you’re willing to talk about?” Joshua tried in a final attempt. Hoshi thought for a moment before looking up, shaking his head with teary eyes.

“I can’t Hyung. I’m sorry, but I can’t. I can’t tell anybody right now. I’m sorry, Hyung.” Joshua simply smiled, standing up to reach towards him with open arms. If Hoshi says he’s not able to share the burden, then Joshua believed his younger brother entirely.

Hoshi rose to hug his brother. Long enough to give Hoshi the support to continue until the end of his assignment.

“Alright,” Joshua spoke kindly as always, voice like cream to the ears. Ruffling his brother's hair as they exited the room. “Well you know you can always come to us for help, right? I mean it, all of us.”

Hoshi nodded, keeping his eyes low. “Of course.”

His mind was immediately pinned onto your body. How he had left you, scared and afraid in a distant hotel. Something about this arrangement was hurting him, in a way he couldn’t control. That was what scared him the most. Not being able to keep his emotions in check. And the guilt that was eating away at him.

Sunday 7:36 pm

Hoshi, undelivered - Y/N, not sure if you’re getting my msg’s, but I thought I’d send this anyways

Hoshi, undelivered - I’ll be on my way home to change out of this stupid suit first, 8 pm sharp

Hoshi, undelivered - Then I’ll be over

Hoshi, undelivered - Shall I get us some food

Sunday 7:48 pm

Hoshi, undelivered - Y/N?

Sunday 7:53 pm

Hoshi, undelivered - :(

Sunday 8:56 pm

Hoshi, undelivered - OMW!!

Hoshi, undelivered - There’s been no traffic all night, so shouldn’t be long

Hoshi, undelivered - I didn’t get any food, thought we could order in?

Sunday 9:23 pm

Hoshi, undelivered - Almost there 🙃 room 21, floor three right?

Sunday 9:40 pm

Hoshi, undelivered - Here, omw up!

With your face smushed into your pillows, you were mostly dead to the world.

Feverish dreams and the inability to reach a deeper state of sleep meant that your body was being pushed to a point of exhaustion; a pounding head coaxing you into a light semi-conscious state of rest, simply to subdue the pain.

Your head spun in this position but at least the breeze on your naked back kept you cool.

Your underwear had begun to start sticking oddly as you wrestled with the waves of sensation in which your body told you you were unreasonably horny, but your mind refused to give in to such a stupid and animalistic sense.

One moment you were down in the dumps; the next you were ready to hump any surface like a rabbit.

Then, the hunger came.

And worst of all; the rippling pains deep in your muscles that felt like a whole-body menstrual cramp. What a joy!

Thankfully, you had managed to ignore the sexual tension for the most part. The threat of becoming a werewolf, funnily enough, outweighed the need for a quick wank.

Well... You weren’t above trying at least once.

But it had left you even more frustrated than before. Something was missing from this equation and it frustrated your tired brain like a winding spring. You had never been unable to satisfy yourself before.

What the actual fuck? You were never going to experience a glorious orgasm ever again….

The sudden noise of the electric lock on the large heavy hotel door being released woke you in an instance.

The door beeped loudly before accepting the card being swiped on the other side. An aggressing green light circled the handle before fading.

A light rapping on the door told you that the intruder was at least polite enough to knock, but dizzy, you struggled to link two and two together.

Room service, at this hour? You cursed mentally. But the voice on the other side of the door spoke before you could, quietly filling the space.

“Y/N?” Hoshi whispered, your dark room indicating from his slither of a view that you could very much be asleep. As he attempted to step in, you called back from the other side with an immediate tone of alarm.

"Soonyoung?" You croaked, rushing up faster than you expected in an adrenaline rush to push the door closed as soon as the handle creaked downwards. "Soonyoung stop, stop, stop, please don't open that door!"

Hoshi paused for a moment, hearing you panic against the door. "Y/N? What's wrong? A-are you not dressed?"

Upon trying to nudge the door out further he realised you were using your body weight to keep it shut. If he wanted, he could barge in with no issue. There was little physical reason why not to. But instead, he pulled back with a frown. What had gotten into you?

"Hoshi please, just stop. Go away, get away from here…" The pain in your voice betrayed the attempt at threatening the only being you would possibly trust to see you and comfort you right now. Well, maybe other than Jen.

Hoshi cleared his throat, placing his hand on the door handle. Your scent had been spoiled with fear - sour and distasteful to the nose. It made his spine stiff as his body stood to attention.

“Y/N, seriously. What the hell is going on? Is somebody in there?” Reacting without thought, Hoshi’s blood boiled with the threat of someone other than himself being in the room with you in this state, this deep into your transition.

"N-no,” You stuttered. Hoshi eased upon hearing the weakness in your tenor. A tired person doesn’t tend to lie.

“I-I just don't want you to come in. I don't think it's safe anymore… for you to see me like this. I’m sick, Hoshi and I don’t want it to affect you too. Please just go away..."

Hoshi didn't respond immediately. He kept quiet as a puzzled look swept over his features.

"Why won’t you let me in, Y/N? Did something happen while I was away? I can come back later if you want? I can go get us some food if you need to get dressed, or -"

"No.” You bit. “Please, Soonyoung. I want you to leave and never come back! I’m too dangerous and unpredictable to be around."

The fear in your voice struck his heart.

"I'm a monster, I've turned into something disgusting and I can’t even think straight…"

He now felt the guilt of leaving you here, alone, for all this time. The hours left you stewing in this disgustingly silver and dark blue furnished hotel. Beyond the door, the subtlety of your heartbeat was there, erratic and full of grief.

Once again, your body was fighting his presence.

Unmarked and unmated your hormones were making your head boil up in confusion, leaving your heart far behind. Hoshi groaned instantly at the noise that floated out from under the door. A long, high pitched whine of fear. Thumping his head against the door as he took a breath to steady himself.

Letting go of the door, you stepped back. Once. Twice. Before hitting the bed. Reaching back to crawl into the soft cave you had pulled together in a complete frenzy.

Slumping back against your accumulated pile of bedding from pure emotional exhaustion, you began to whimper like an animal. Such a desperate noise. A cold sweat lay over your skin and your muscles rippled like an anxious hound without its owner present.

"Please Hoshi… Just leave…" The conviction in your voice was non-existent and Hoshi was pained.

Shit. For once in his life, he had had the option to choose opportunity over familiar comfort. He could only now see what choosing the route of familiarity had cost him.

Left alone, you had researched an unreasonable amount of human-biased information available to you from over the internet. Almost every human forum you found told you of the sins it took to change a human into a werewolf.

How you'd die within hours. How if left ‘unmated’ you would be torn apart by feral beasts. Like the ones that had hunted you in the office.

There it was again. That overwhelming prickling heat that swept up the back of your neck and over your scalp and held your lungs until you couldn’t breathe. Hoshi couldn't see you, but he could tell something was off.

"Y/N, I'm not sure what's wrong, but I promise, we’ll get through this together. I won’t leave again without good reason. I’m sorry. I promise I won’t leave you like that again."

Silence. Hoshi gave you a second, before entering into your space.

At this point, you were shaking. Tears blotted your cheeks. God's you wanted him to run. But away from you or into your arms; you weren't entirely sure.

“I’m - I’m going to open the door now, Y/N. Please don’t push me out.”

In the slowest manner he had ever mustered in his life, Hoshi pulled down the cool metal handle. Pulling it downwards and pushing away from himself, before stepping in slowly. He closed the door behind his body and used the bolt lock for extra closure.

The first thing he checked was your condition. You were sitting with the covers pulled up to your shoulders, hands covering your body in a protective defence, knees tucked to your chest.

Then Hoshi took in your environment. Eyes sweeping over the room.

It had been rearranged in disarray. The clunky modern furniture was moved and shoved towards the farthest wall from the bed. The windows were cranked open despite the very present chill in the room and the floor-sweeping blinds were pulled haphazardly across the heavy railing.

Hoshi realised quickly that the lack of lights had probably been due to the sensitivity of your shifting eyes. The neon signs on the streets below and above the rooflines, paired with the waning full moon sat largely in the sky, provided plenty enough vision for the two of you now. It was odd, he noted, that his symptoms had been unnoticeable since Friday.

Your clothes were thrown onto a far chair, bra also, but no underwear indicated that they were still being worn - he thanked you mentally. The luxury bed sheets, pillows and velvet blankets had all been piled and layered into a cocoon big enough to fit one. Your phone was on the floor - a deep crack and lifting screen telling him why you hadn’t been receiving his texts.

Finally, he noted that the bathroom door was closed. Towels hung on the handle. Lock twisted in the old-style keyhole and kept in there for reassurance.

The whole room resulted in the blueprint of a makeshift den that your human mind was struggling to make. Hoshi's heart sobbed internally at the pain you must have gone through in here, all alone.

Your body was shaking. In absolute cold dread that the man would throw you back out onto the streets after causing such a mess. You couldn't help any of it, something like a new consciousness was slowly moving into your psyche and moving everything around. The intense need to burrow was taking root in your heart. But without the knowledge to put a label on the newly-instinctual behaviour, you were convinced you were going mad.

"Well, it looks like you've already had a party in here without me, huh Y/N?" The male whispered in a kind voice. His smile reached his eyes, and it made your belly flutter in an unspoken tone.

It was like you could feel his smile against your skin. So kind. So comforting. Without a response, Hoshi instead relied on your body language cues on when to move.

After a small while, the shaking rippling across your body slowed, then came to a stop. The small whines and huffs easing enough to gasp some breath. Eventually, your hands dropped from your shoulders, dropping to grip at the bare mattress.

Hoshi took this as his signal to start trying to calm you down.

"Y/N, can I move closer? Maybe come sit with you on the bed?" His voice was kind and soothing. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry I left you alone for so long, like this. It must have been pretty scary. Have you eaten at least? Did you take all your suppressors?"

Once, twice, three times you nodded.

Allowing him to take careful steps to approach the edge of the bed, towards you. Everything he did was methodical. Calm. Patient. In any usual scenario, this method of moving may not have been his strong suit. But right now, he was tempering himself for you.

This close, Hoshi's body reacted to your own. His pupils dilated and then settled into thin cuts on a maroon red canvas. You listened as his breathing cut short, then resumed through his mouth.

This close to you, even with the windows open, your scent went straight to his brain. (And his crotch). Shooting images across his brain that he fought with images of bubbles and rainbows. He intended to take things slowly and refused to move unless you gave him the metaphorical green light. Consent, trust and loyalty were key here.

"Y/N," He breathed, clearing his throat and tugging the hoodie around his neck loose, before continuing. "Can I move closer? I promise I won't bite." His cheeky smile threw you off for a second. Wiping tears away from your cheek.

The slight humour made you smile for a moment, lips twitching into an awkward smile. You nodded, thankful for Hoshi's kind nature and his watchful effort not to overwhelm you.

"Ok…" You whispered, eyes moving to avoid him. "Sure..."

"Ok." He repeated, keeping the smile on his face. “I'll move closer now Y/N.”

Despite the tenseness in approaching you, shuffling around the mattress on his ass to scoot closer to your body, he felt the need to comfort you. One being to the next. Respectfully, he left a small space free between the two of you.

Resting his elbows on his knees, Hoshi tilted his head in curiosity. You were attempting to hide your face from him. This was odd behaviour for an Omega. They were shy usually, sure, but to defy eye contact was a big thing. It was just yet another thing that sung to him.

While Hoshi moved closer at a calm pace, your head was rushing from adrenaline. Your thoughts flit from how you looked, to what he must have looked like at the door - an angel sent to save your hurting soul - until your mind ran a ring of anxiety surrounding the furniture.

If only you could keep your hands to yourself. If only you hadn't gone out of your apartment to get bitten in the first place. If only you had never gone to work two days ago -

Following your subconscious gaze and listening to the space, Hoshi caught onto your fears.

"I'm not angry - about the room and stuff. Just so you know."

Your body stilled, resisting the urge to look at his face, or even further than the bedsheets you had now buried yourself in, knowing you would crumble at one glance.

"It can all be moved back. Or not. The hotel won’t care either if nothing’s damaged. Whatever makes you comfortable. It's your space to use, from now until we decide what to do, or you find somewhere you want to go. You won’t be able to go home - not for a while at least. I’m sure the hotel won’t mind if we asked for a bigger room, maybe?."

You nodded solemnly, shuffling the sheets up against your neck. Back exposed to the cool air, you focused on the feeling of your hot skin cooling in waves. And surprisingly; fear of judgement from the male was not even thought of. You twisted under the sheets to face him more, surrounding his back in the beautifully long duvet.

Hoshi brought his thumb up against the point of his canine, a little unsure of how to handle this. He frowned, trying to reach a conclusion on why you were still uncomfortable despite the slow development of your relationship.

"Are you scared of me, Y/N?" Hoshi voiced out loud, looking down at his rough hands. It wouldn't be an unfamiliar feeling, for someone to push him away.

Head flying up on instinct to deny such a thought, you were finally met with his stunning frame.

Hoshi was becoming your only security. The solid, dependable unchanging figure. You weren’t sure what would happen if he accepted his fears, then left. So you fought to shut down the chance of that happening.

"No!" You managed to quip back immediately. Blinking at him with sore eyes. “No, I do not think that…”

The word was firm and close to yet another defiant bark. Hoshi couldn't resist the smile that tugged at his lips. Looking down, he laughed softly. Fiddling with the open zipper of his coat for a moment.

He looked smaller than in that building; that suit. So much more relatable. A boy. Not that cold man with sharp eyes. He wore a black hoodie with the Balenciaga logo printed across the front in a small font, mostly hidden by a black puffer coat with a high collar. His matching black joggers hugged at his thighs and dipped to trainers he had thrown on so fast he hadn’t even bothered to tie one completely.

"You sure?” He threw playfully through his teeth, still smiling. “I can be pretty scary, you know! A real meany!"

He beamed up at your face, but the joy of naive chivalry quickly flooded out at your features crumpling into a mosaic of grief. Any rebuttal was swallowed, stuck dead in his throat.

He was like a robin on a winter's day. His presence stilled you, and you were afraid to push and have him never return. His scent filled your spirit with a settlement you simply couldn't comprehend and you thanked the gods for the health flowing through his veins.

Both his human features and canine ones were impregnated in the space behind your eyes and you swore never to let them leave.

"Y/N?" He prompted tentatively. Unsure whether your face read as shock, awe or horror.

It was the first time he had seen you like this. Dishevelled entirely. Vulnerable. Granted, your relationship had been brief in the meeting and rapid in maturity, but it felt as if you had met in a previous life.

And it was the first time you had seen him like this; so rough and yet so fresh. He wore all black and yet he was impossible to miss - attractive, yes, but gentle looking. So violent, yet so smooth.

He knew you, could judge your reactions like a sense of Deja Vu. And you knew him too; a future memory you couldn’t yet grasp.

He watched your irises, enamoured by the golden honeycomb that seeped in, much deeper in colour than the day you had first met. He smiled, despite himself.

Cheeks swollen, you dipped your chin. You must have been crying not so long ago, he realised.

"If you can’t tell me what's wrong, I'm not going to know how to help you, flower." Hoshi whispered.

He closed his eyes for a mere moment to treasure that slight increase in pulse; the reaction slowly becoming clockwork to your interactions. Looking away, his eyes granted you space.

"Tell me what’s going on Y/N.” He whispered. “I’ll help if I can."

Choking, you struggled to form the right words. But when you did manage to speak, they all seemed to slot into place. Like a wave crashing into the patiently accepting sand.

"I-I'm so scared Hoshi. Of myself, of what’s happening. I don't know what I've become - even my body doesn't feel like my own anymore. I don't want to hurt anyone, but I can't trust myself, I can’t even leave this room by myself without freaking out! Believe me, I’ve tried! I'm scared I'm becoming a… a monster, Hoshi."

Your confidence trailed. Voice dipping into a weak tone that made Hoshi’s heart ache.

“I don’t want to die like this, Soonyoung. Scared and in pain. I have no family out here and I’m so, so afraid of what’s happening...”

Sucking in a harsh breath you looked down at the pointed nails sitting snug in your nail bed. Hands trembling on top of the sheets. Your nails had become grotesque. Foreign. Your canines had begun aching in your gums, and the intensity of every movement sent signals into your brain so strong you had barely been able to sleep.

Hoshi opted to listen, quietly. He simply watched you from the corner of his eye, stray hairs falling against his forehead. Hoshi wasn’t very good at things like this; emotions.

His brothers blamed it on him being a middle-aged Gemini, but he didn’t necessarily have a reason for it. He had just never been good at talking about shit when it hurt. But he couldn't resist the sympathetic smile tugging at his cheeks, or his hands that sat in his lap so desperate to reach out and provide some comfort. Fuck, he was being pulled to you like a magnet.

"Like, my hands -" Hoshi couldn't help his immediate response, acting on impulse to protect you.

"Let me see." You blinked for a second. His palm had lifted, resting gently in the air.

When you had gotten over the shock of his offer you sucked in a steadying breath, reaching out your hand toward him. The back of your fingers hovered with a steady shake over his palm.

A crease appeared between Hoshi’s brow, as an indicator of deep consideration. He closed your hand in between both of his, gently turning your wrist so it lay on his other palm.

Hoshi hummed to himself in thought for a moment, before his face lit up - shuffling to shrug off his puffed coat behind his lap, and roll his baggy sleeves up to his elbow, all without letting your wrist drop - body shifting towards you until Hoshi’s attention was devoted solely onto you and solely you.

His attention was making your head spin.

Delicately taking your hand, Hoshi began to massage the cuticle around your thumb and thumbnail. Then he reached to smooth out the muscles of your palms. Then he glided to support and soothe the ache in your wrist. He reached for every finger, the steady and firm pressure greatly needed. His hands wandered after a while, supporting your wrist and smoothing firm strokes into your lower arm. By the end of it, you had relaxed; sharp nails back to normal and nerves lulled.

Placing your hand on the bed, the cool fabric awoke you a little. Retracting it to your body, Hoshi watched as you looked over it in awe. Your nails had returned to their natural human state, pink ovals looking back up at you. For once, they also looked healthy. A side effect of changing an entire biological class, you laughed mentally. At least your skin was gonna look great.

"You're a little tense. That's all." Hoshi whispered. Bringing you back to earth.

He gave you a moment, itching his neck shyly before offering a slender hand for your other wrist. "Next one." He spoke with a shy smile. A little lost, you let him guide you.

No resistance was made when he reached for your other arm, hands gliding to hold your wrist. It struck a shiver up your spine, and you stifled a yawn into the opposite shoulder. Once your palms lay together again, Hoshi began working from the cuticles to the thumb, down to the muscle, up to the wrist, then finally your forearm

Your hands were impossibly clammy, but he didn’t seem to mind. If it did bother him, he certainly wasn’t letting on to it. He looked to be chewing his gum, eyes trained solely on your muscles and the way they eased at his massaging touch.

He glanced up at your face as he made it to your arm, to check you were comfortable with what was happening. What he saw pleased him.

A silent yawn and trust replaced the sour look of fear. He had been there less than twenty minutes and already he had helped more than anything else you had tried.

His body reacted in kind; a familiar low rumble of a purring growl vibrated from his chest; a nonverbal sign of trust, that washed you with a shiver from head to toe. Your ears didn’t register the sound, but your body did. Immediately, you released another yawn and the tension between your shoulders released, letting you slump forward. Hoshi chuckled at your reaction, letting go of your hand after massaging each finger, palm and wrist. This time you were slower to bring it to your chest.

“Thank you.” You mumbled, watching as the boy’s eyes slipped into beautiful crescents, cheeks lifting into a toothy smile.

“No worries. Our bodies can act up and be a little weird sometimes. Just - let me know if you have any other issues. I’ll try and help, but I’m no doctor.”

Smiling coyly, you nodded. He seemed relaxed here, in comparison to every other scene you had interacted in. It showed in how he slouched; one thigh tucked up against your duvet-covered side. Unbothered by the hair that sat out of centre.

Still getting used to your body's own language you peered up at the male sitting beside you. Unable to speak without embarrassing yourself, your face read as an eager child waiting to ask a stall for some candy.

At your expression, Hoshi laughed softly. It was obvious that you wanted help with some other ailment, and he was happy to provide it, given you could tell him what it was.

"What is it? Something else?"

Hoshi's smile faltered at your lack of response, but the aura had suddenly changed.

He admired your eyes, curious to the world, peering from his lips to his face. He simply smiled, a shy laugh popping his shoulders. He knew what you wanted. To satiate that gnawing ache that your canines provided, drumming deep into the skull. And he let you come to him. Awaiting the crash of the steadily predictable wave. He was growing accustomed to the ebb and flow of your interactions.

Oh God, what were you thinking? You were going to get choked and stoned to death by a sudden mob of internet-forum humans as soon as you divulged such a sin.

Flicking your gaze from his eyes to his lips, his eyes to his lips, you inched forwards with the covers over your chest. Your brain hotwired slightly. The desperation to ease the pain in your body melded into the overwhelming want to feel his skin against your own.

In such a sudden change of mood, your head took too long to catch. You raised to your knees, duvet covering your chest but revealing your shoulders as you matched his height.

Hoshi anticipated your movements, supporting the hand that rested on his strong thigh, the muscle tensing as your head tipped forward.

Within a breath, he met you. Delicately supporting your jaw as you tipped forward to press your lips to his. Hoshi practically hummed, thumb grazing against your cheek and fingers light on your pulse. He opened his eyes to slits as you hesitated, pulling back as he predicted you would; only to crash back in.

Again, he let you follow the movement. Supporting your neck as he deepened the kiss, a heat rushing to his ears.

Your lips were soft and moldable as you got lost in his movements, body closer than you had originally positioned and the introduction of Hoshi's tongue against your gums; yours against his teeth - he ate up your small whines with an appreciative moan. You reached to hold the duvet to your chest, the other fingers curling into the nape of his neck.

If you hadn't known better, you could’ve sworn you had heard an appreciative grumble bubble up from deep within his chest.

Your lip caught between Hoshi's teeth when you pulled back to breathe, the hand sat firmly around your neck making your head spin.

God, he was addicting. You could kiss him for hours.

Much to your surprise, Hoshi had made no move to ravish you like the feral beasts the internet had warned you of.

If anything, your greed and hornness had gotten the better of you, not him

Once again, you had acted differently than he would have expected from an Omega. He never knew them to make a move first. But he was beginning to appreciate the way that your human-ness made you act as you pleased, not completely numbed to only instinct.

As you leaned back to sit on your heels, Hoshi cocked his head with a toothy grin. Laughing at you but in good sport. His shoulders shook as he smiled, shaking his head before looking back up at your confused expression. Your gums still ached, the same as before.

"Shit Y/N, you're cute. But I can't help with your teeth if that's what you're after."

Oh. You slumped a little in the bed. But he smiled still, shrugging.

Hoshi reached into his pockets to pull out his annoyingly solid wallet and keys, placing them on the bedside table past your body.

"Sorry, flower. Mine ache too." His nickname for you was starting to stick.

"They will hurt until you're either too exhausted to feel them or until you can find a partner that will claim you."

He sighed as he moved back, thumping his phone on a nearby pillow. He also made a mental note to buy you a new phone when you both got the chance.

Solemnly, you nodded.

For a moment there was silence. The two of you settled, finally having the time and trust to fully accept each other's presence. Hoshi looked like he was elsewhere, thinking about work, or life maybe.

"Soonyoung?" You whispered, stomach-lurching as you faced what you were about to do.

He blinked away his last thoughts, focusing back on you with a surprised face, like a little shocked animal.

“Y-yeah?” He responded, faltering with the look you were giving him.

He wet his mouth, ruffling his hair as you considered the heavy favour you were about to ask. He could still taste you. Your heartbeat now thumping heavily made his eyes dilate, before settling. Comforting white noise. He had calmed down too, since seeing you. Bad mood, finally gone.

Shit, he was such a nice guy. You only hoped this didn't get spat back into your face.

His head rose as your voice did; eyes unknowingly glued to your fatigued features. His hand strayed to your neck, moving some hair there before pushing hairs from your cheek. His fingertips splayed across your jaw.

You closed your eyes, reaching your hand to slip up his wrist, holding his hand to your skin.

On the next exhale, you breathed out your thoughts. Worries. Remaining tensions. A desperate grasp at whatever this was, blossoming between the two of you. Hoshi’s thumb circled the height of your cheek, delicate to your wants.

"Please, Soonyoung. Please make the pain stop. I know that you can, and I know that you know how. And I know, it's incredibly selfish to ask, and we’ve practically only just met, but -

"My whole body feels like it's so hot and I can't breathe when you’re not near. Every time you leave it feels like someone has put a spear through my lungs and I have no right to be this attached to you so quickly -- but, please, Soon’,”

His ears perked, eyes softened around the edges. Only his pack members called him by his real name, Soonyoung. The shortening of that familiar sound echoed around his brain like soft chimes. As if he could just reject you.

Hoshi shuffled closer so that his palm supported your cheek. He felt like he couldn’t blink like he needed to savour this exact moment forever - and you were grateful for the support, tipping your head down.

“I-I don't why, but I trust you to make the right decisions. On my behalf. Literally, since the moment, I met you. I’ve never let anyone control my life like you have the past few days Soonyoung, not even my parents."

"Whether it’s now, or never, I trust you like I know my bones ache when you aren’t near. I trust you as much as I know I reach a fever when you’re at your furthest and I feel the need to run, run straight in your direction.”

“I trust you as much as I can hear your heartbeat from across every room. I-I don’t believe in fate as I said before. O-or at least, I didn’t.”

You faltered, Hoshi’s lopsided smile supporting you as your voice ebbed and flowed, voice rushing back in to fill the space.

“To be honest - fate - she hasn’t been very kind to me. But Hoshi - "

Hoshi peered over your face, reading your trust.

“This feels like a new start. Like - like a trust I've never felt before. We have so much to learn about each other - but we instinctively know so much already. Please, please tell me if you don’t feel this way too. Please, don't lie. I-I can’t do this alone, please." Wavering at the end, you left yourself open.

"Shit… Come here, silly pup…" Hoshi mumbled.

Hoshi’s eyes never left your body as his other hand danced over your skin.

Bouncing up, inch by inch, until his hand reached your neck. He shuffled his body forward until your foreheads met; breath fanning over your cheek and heart pumping underneath his hoodie.

He didn’t want you to close away from the fear of rejection, but right now his head was spinning. Swallowing your words, his eyes closed and face pinched into deep consideration. Accepting whatever was about to come back your way, you closed your eyes.

Your lips brushed, but you were content with giving him a second to think, simply enjoying his presence. You knew what you were asking for was a lot. And you held onto his wrists as he struggled, humming quietly. A weight had been lifted from your shoulders. And you had the liberty of absorbing his presence closer than ever before. He - him, just him - he was beautiful.

It took a hot second, but finally, Hoshi pulled back.

His eyes met your own as he nodded. Beautiful red swimming in your vision as he pressed his lips delicately to your own, fingertips gentle on your pulse.

The kiss deepened once again, your hand curling into the neck of Hoshi’s hoodie and pulling him closer. He swallowed any words that threatened to spill out from either of you; a hand pressing the duvet safely up against your shoulder, just over your heart. The other safely cupping your jaw and cheek.

The kiss was a delicate dance of feelings, tempered by the anxiety of learning each other’s ways.

Finally, he pulled back for air. Answering your plea with an avoidant gaze. Not because he wasn’t speaking truthfully. But because he was too timid to look you in the eye. Your noses brushed into an Eskimo’s kiss. And you adored the uniqueness of his voice, thumb brushing over the bumps and veins on his hand for reassurance. He looked like he needed it.

“I hear you. And I feel the same way. Y/N, please don't think I ever want to just... leave you. To deal with this alone. It was brave of you to ask for help, so thank you. But...” His nasal exhale forced your ears to pique.

“It’s not a light decision to be made. In terms of - well, what you’re asking, it’s a lot. As much as I’d love -” Your soft reach for his skin broke his sentence, train of thought taking a second before it found its way back.

Hoshi grew distracted by the palm gliding up the exposed skin of his arm. Your touch made the hairs on the back of his neck stand to attention. He released a low whine. Of want, of need and equality. Hoshi held your elbow as your fingertips splayed beneath his slipping hoodie sleeve.

He gulped with a dry throat, blinking away stars before breathing through his mouth.

“As much as I’d love to do that, to help you, settle this ache right here and now for you - I can’t make any major decisions before consulting my brothers first. The pack has to give their blessing before we go ahead - with anything.”

Hoshi looked desperate, brow creased in careful consideration of his words.

“This decision, it- it affects everyone, Y/N, like a domino effect. I’m willing and honoured - don’t get me wrong I feel this pull too - but I'm sorry, we'll have to wait. For our elders - or, or for when the time feels right... I don’t even really know how long it could take. I’m sorry, Y/N.”

Hoshi dipped his head. Ready for you to voice your expectations and how badly you had been let down. Instead, he felt your weight slide then thump against his torso and shoulder. Body falling onto his.

You simply couldn't speak. So exhausted and not wanting to upset him with the wrongly chosen words, you chose to show your intentions instead. They always said actions speak louder than words.

He caught you in a gentle embrace, arms looping around your body as he twitched at the new feeling of his cheek being tickled by your hair and palms moving to hold the back of your rib cage. Your soft skin was the only thing in his mind and he felt… Fuzzy, on the inside.

For a while, Hoshi forgot how to breathe. It felt like you had accepted him at that moment. Like you had simply sighed, accepting his words and dropping any arguments. That was not something he had come across often. It was an early development of unconditional love he had only seen with his brothers.

Remembering how to breathe again, he huffed out a warm breath over your back. Hoshi’s hands linked loosely above your spine, thigh supporting your hip. And cheek resting on your head, he was finally able to sit with his thoughts.

You breathed him in. His scent and easing presence. Letting it surround you as you held onto each other. You may have cried if Hoshi got pulled away at that moment. The delicate hands against your skin told you who this werewolf truly was.

He wasn’t some beast who would eat you alive. But a kind soul. A little lost, like the rest of us, but hey. It was humbling.

Hoshi didn’t want to let you go, either. You smelt like home. Comfort. Despite your scent having a twang that let him in on the fact you were reacting to all this touching; Hoshi couldn't find the words to describe what was going through his head.

So he kissed your head instead of speaking, trailing thumb circles into your skin. Lips resting on your shoulder, nuzzling dangerously close to your scent. Planting kisses on your neck, up behind your ears.

He tried not to tease you, he did. And there was a fine line between being affectionate and scenting. But he was drawn to you like a bee to a flower. Fangs scraping against your bare neck, the sensation caused Hoshi to go dizzy from lust. You whined softly, gripping the hand that wandered down to squeeze your behind. He kept it there.

"Please don't leave." You whimpered into the space behind him.

Hoshi choked. Brought back into the room by your voice. The gentle rustle of curtains wooshed a breeze against your bodies.

"I don't think I can do this without you Soonyoung. I was so scared. Please, stay. Even if it’s just for the night..." Your plea was merciful. The roles had reversed; now you were asking him to accept you.

Though you had originally meant to ask for him to stay only for the night; you weren’t sure exactly for how long you were asking for. And Hoshi didn’t dare to clarify.

Shit - you were breaking him. His heart and soul was caving.

"I'm right here, Y/N." Hoshi swallowed, resting his cheek against your head. He held you tighter, puffs of breath over your shoulder and a caving chest told you how much he cared.

“I'm sorry. I'll try not to leave like that again. I’ll stay with you tonight. The next few days. Or, until it doesn’t hurt as much. I’ve got you. We’ll figure this out, together. Whatever this develops into, I'm only going to be happy if you are, Y/N.”

He was happy to hear that your heart was beating just as frantically as his own.

“And what if that takes weeks?” You questioned with a heaviness. Hoshi scoffed slightly, clearing his throat from emotions as he stared into space above your head.

“I’ll be near you, I can promise you that much. I can’t say we’ll always be together, that would be a little odd, but - I never break a promise when I decide on it. So like, yeah. I’ll be here. I promise. Double promise. Plus, I've got to make it up to you. Eating in here alone - that was mean!”

You smiled into his shoulder, nuzzling there with a small lilted laugh. Weak, but there. Hooking your pinky finger into his, you were comforted.

“Okay, I believe you.” You whispered, content with the silence that settled. His mouth and nose rested on your shoulder. And you sagged against his side. Duvet kept up between your bodies. He was so comfortable that you surprisingly didn’t care for your appearance at all.

Hoshi was too much in his head to communicate right now anyways. Thinking about your proposition. You swore sometimes you could hear his thoughts. You thought better than to question it, drifting into sleep. Finally, two days of fatigue had hit you like a freight train and you were grateful Hoshi didn’t acknowledge the large and final beast of a yawn that passed through you.

Hoshi thought of many things that looped into more questions and dug deeper into anxiety that he didn’t want to deal with right now. But - you gave him space to think, unlike the rest of the world. So he toyed with it.

For example, he thought about what it meant for him, his position.

To take away your fever and bond like his body so screamed at him to do. Where he could help you find a place to live - you would have to move into a werewolf District. District 29 came to mind.

Maybe a house between Hoshi’s men. Or, maybe closer to him? Who said you would even want that? He would arrange it with you, obviously, but that was a future concern.

Maybe you would end up hating each other?

Maybe you hadn’t realized the weight of what you had asked him? To link, for life. It had been three days.Fuck, maybe he shouldn’t have agreed so quickly.

A small snore distracted him, eyes darting to the source of the noise. Your tired eyes, shut and resting against his shoulder. Nose pressed into the dip of his neck, hands loosely gripping to the fabric on Hoshi’s soldier.

Hoshi chose to stay with you. Willing to stay here with you for as long as you needed. His job schedule was free for the next week and he intended to make the most out of it.

He held you to his body as he dropped his expensive coat to the floor, tugging out of his hoodie with a little difficulty not jolting you around, before kicking off his shoes. He lifted you to his lap and tugged the covers over both of you - just one of the layers - appreciating the cool breeze of the open windows on the exposed skin you both had, mixed with your light breaths against his neck. It assured him of your status.

For now, you were in a healing deep sleep.

Laying you down on his chest, you managed to shuffle half-asleep into a comfortable position. Your face found the exposed skin of his neck to nuzzle into the crook of, cheek against the collar of Hoshi’s cotton shirt, the fabric cool against your skin.

While you lay dead to the world, Hoshi's mind wandered. Fingers draping across your skin. Shivers rippled over your muscles. He dared not to wander, resisting the want to kiss your pain away to stare straight up at the ceiling instead.

Ah, how fitting. A full-sized mirror in the shape of a star. A little dirty for such a famous hotel, enough to make Hoshi scoff. But he could see the appeal. Peeling his eyes away from your face and from beneath the sheets, Hoshi chose to watch the curtains dance against the breeze instead. Quickly, the thoughts returned. He reached somewhat of an objection-itinerary.

Omega's needed a space. A space to call their own. To nestle, burrow. Call home. Somewhere they can go to recoup energy or hide away.

Regardless of what you were to each other right now, he could still help in other ways.

Like bringing you into their very security-heavy apartment. Into his apartment, sacrificing his spare room for you. It was a big step. And he wasn't sure if you were ready. To be honest, he wasn't sure if he was ready.

But you couldn't burrow here, in a hotel.

Whether you knew it or not, it smelt of too many different smells, people. In about a day or two, you would be settled into your new body. Infections stew for around 6-7 months then as the first heat ends, the body settles. This time was crucial in setting up your evolving life and he intended to help.

--------

Suddenly, you startled. Thighs tensing against his leg, torso twitching as you grunted. You had been awoken from your dream by a nightmare. You shuffled up Hoshi’s chest, disoriented. Hoshi giggled.

"Hi, petal. You good?"

You groaned, blinking until your irises settled into almond shapes, vision bleary and a tension headache strapped over your head like a tight rubber band.

"Hosh?" You managed, tongue heavy in your mouth. He smiled. Your eyes were adjusting and your body was likely pushing you past the brink of exhaustion. “My eyes - ouch…”

"It's me, flower. You can go back to sleep, you're safe. Looks like your eyes are settling petal, your irises look a little painful though. You might get a headache from the pinch. Try and sleep it off." You moaned airily from pain, Hoshi humming in response. Finger pushing hairs away from your eyes, before placing his knuckles to your forehead. The heat was still clearly there.

Not even registering his touch, you fell into his chest. Groaning at the sensation of your body becoming so heavy.

"Owwwwww." You whined, whining even more at the laughing chest beneath you.

"You big baby." He whispered, gripping your thighs to scoop you up higher. "Where does it hurt?"

"Everywhere, all the time." You whined nasally. The position was so intimate that if you were sane, this naked, in this position, you would be freaking the fuck out.

But you weren't. So he babied you while he had the chance.

Cooing, Hoshi nudged your forehead onto his shoulder, arms wrapped over your torso. You felt encased and protected, whining intermittently at the pain. Weirdly, his patterned breathing was enough to anchor you after a while. His heartbeat pushed a percussion of deep breaths into your lungs. You were bonding.

"Y/N, I was thinking…" Hoshi started, trailing his fingertips up and down your spine. Unable to articulate without major effort, you groaned in response.

"If you came to my place, to the packs’ apartment, you could maybe stay with us. The pack." This was serious. Unable to respond with as much conviction, you moved to rest your cheek on his chest, groaning with a frown. It said enough.

At this angle, the boy looked cute as all hell. Smiling at your tired face. He chuckled, brushing hairs from your face.

"Sorry, I know it's unfair to talk right now. But I need to air my thoughts." Closing your eyes you thumped your forehead to his chest and groaned. Loudly.

He laughed, hiking one knee to stop you from sliding off the bed before intertwining his fingers into your hair. Instantly a moan slipped past your lips and he smiled. You were so captivating, he could toy with you for hours.

"It would be tricky, getting you in there like this. You smell so strong Y/N, my younger brothers might… Well, it’s dangerous. With respect, you’re anyone's game and I’m not sure I’d be able to choose between you or the pack if it came down to it.

“Jeonghan could either reject us entirely or be the most likely one to help."

He looked down at your yawns melting into wisps of breath. You were falling asleep again. Hands curled up against your chests, tucked underneath your chin. He smiled, smoothing the skin next to your eyes before continuing.

"Fuck it. If I don't get you out of here you'll have a stress-induced stroke or worse, female blue balls for literal months." With that in mind, Hoshi reached for his phone on the furthest pillow.

Dragging it towards him with some skill, he began texting Jeonghan.

Hosh 🐯 - Han, are you asleep? I could really use your help right now. I'm in deep shit.

Hannie 🦁 - Hey little bro, how do you mean? Something come up? Meeting's not till next Wednesday kiddo, don’t freak out on me yet

Hannie 🦁 - You could always ask Wonwoo to cover you, the bastard’s got a skill for last min microsoft powerpoints. You see those gifs scattered throughout last week's report? The only thing that kept me going tbh

Hosh 🐯 - This isn't about the meeting, Han

Hosh 🐯 - Something's come up

Hosh 🐯 - Something much bigger

Hannie 🦁 - oh

Hannie 🦁 - well, okay

Hannie 🦁 - what the hell have you done this time Soon-youngie

Hannie 🦁 - ???

Hannie 🦁 - I'm not getting a decorator for your lounge again istg you should learn not to drink soju on a weeknight. Your tolerance is embarrassing

Hoshi snorted, memories flashing back to him. In his laughter, he knocked you awake, apologising immediately as you huffed up at him with deeply blinking honey eyes.

"Hey, shhh, shh. I'm sorry, go back to sleep. Sorry flower." Huffing to yourself, you curled tighter into a ball on top of Hoshi, using him mostly as a very solid duvet at this point. He didn't mind.

Hannie 🦁 - Hosh ?????

Hannie 🦁 - God's what have you done

Hannie 🦁 - speak to me, child !!!

Hosh 🐯 - back, sorry. Got distracted

Hoshi peered down at you, sleeping a lot more comfortably than before, curled around his chest. What a distraction you were becoming.

Hannie 🦁 - np, what's up? Not like you to text out of the blue

Hosh 🐯 - yeah, sorry, but it's serious

Hannie 🦁 - I get that, what's up??

Hoshi took a deep breath before diving straight in. Biting the bullet, for your sake.

Hosh 🐯 - the other night after the D-53 meeting… I ran into a bitten female… in the office, confused and being hunted in broad daylight. Took her to a hotel, here with her now. I need to take her to my place, or I think she might get worse than she already is

Hosh 🐯 - I don't know what to do here, Han. I can't just leave

The dots next to Jeonghan's username dotted in and out for a second, Hoshi anxious for his reply. Sensing this in your sleep, you whined softly, a frown fluttering against your brow.

"Hoshi?" You mumbled, eyes firmly shut. He shushed you, taking a second to take some deep breaths. His heart was pounding. No wonder it woke you up. His hand smoothed up and down your exposed upper arm and shoulder, drifting to the nape of your neck.

"Sorry flower. I'm here. You're good, we're safe." Once again, your head spun. Heavy on his chest, before drifting into a light feverish dream. He sighed, head flopping back into the pillow. Fuck, he was losing control of himself. He looked back at his phone.

Hannie 🦁 - ….. shit, Hoshi

Hannie 🦁 - that meeting was like, three days ago?

Hannie 🦁 - don't tell me you've bonded already ???

Hoshi chewed the inside of his gums, typing then deleting, typing then deleting. His heart pattered, unsure whether to admit the truth. The two of you were getting attached. And yesterday, he almost couldn't stand not being able to feel you near him.

Hannie 🦁 - say the truth Soon, I won't be able to help you otherwise

Hosh 🐯 - yeah

Hosh 🐯 - I'm not sure how but, yeah, I would say we're bonding

Hosh 🐯 - we haven't like, done anything... I explained we have to wait

Hannie 🦁 - 👀I don’t think I needed to know that much, kwonyoungie

Hosh 🐯 - Hyung, seriously

Hosh 🐯 - I don't know what to do. I wouldn't be asking if I wasn't shit scared out of my mind

Hannie 🦁 - ��. Jesus

Hannie 🦁 - well, I guess we all knew this was coming. I expected something soon, but not this fast Soony, Christ

Hannie 🦁 - I guess patience really is a virtue nowadays. Ahh, you kids

Hoshi chuffed through his nose. Stressed but happy he hadn't outright rejected him at least.

Hannie 🦁 - I'll help. You know I met my mate the same way.

Hannie 🦁 - you owe me take out till we part ways soonyoungie. Seriously!

Hannie 🦁 - two seconds I'll call you

Before he knew it, his phone lit up like the night sky. Fumbling to not awaken you yet again, Hoshi pushed the answer button without truly thinking.

"Hello?" He whispered, trying to turn his head with you nuzzled under his chin.

"You're in so much shit when you get home Kwoon Soonyoungie." A voice, the voice of his older brother Jeonghan immediately scolded him. But it was light in tone. Thank the heavens, he was open to talk. Hoshi tapped the volume down a few pushes before responding in a hushed voice.

"I know. I know. I'm sorry. I wouldn't ask if I wasn't desperate, man." Jeonghan groaned at the other end, exasperated and surprisingly awake at this hour.

"Jesus Hosh, I can't believe you. What the fuck happened that got you involved so fast? Are you out of your mind?" Hoshi sighed softly, trying to stay quiet.

"Maybe, a little. I'm not sure what happened. We ran into each other after the meeting, as I said. I'll be able to speak more when I see you."

"Why?" Hoshi frowned.

"Why what?"

"Why can't you speak now?"

Hoshi groaned at his elder. Forever the vigilant one, spotting loopholes before they’re ever created.

"I can't talk properly right now because she's asleep. She's burning up a fever and I don't really want to go waking her up. I don't think you'd appreciate it either. Remember last summer?"

Jeonghan was quiet for a second before sighing.

"Right."

The line buzzed, Jeonghan shuffling out of what Hoshi presumed was his bed. It was 2 am after all.

"Only idiots are up at this hour." Hoshi giggled, looking down to find himself playing with your hair. Well, that was new.

Jeonghan groaned playfully from his end, fabric shuffling and a light switch being flicked on. "Hence why I'm talking to you."

"Yeah, well. No other being would be stupid enough to help."

Hoshi scoffed, brushing your head with his cheek. His heart was beating with adrenaline.

"Can you get her here within the hour?" Jeonghan sighed. Hoshi peered down at you. He took too long to answer, so his comrade carried on.

"Fine, whatever. I'll send a driver to the hotel you're at, just send me the address. I'll meet you both outside but you better be quick 'cause it's cold as hell out there and I won't hold the door open for long."

Hoshi couldn't help but smile.

"Hell's not cold, Hyung." Hoshi chuckled.

"Yeah, and you're not cute. Hurry up." Jeonghan spoke with a smile.

"Thanks, I love you man."

"No worries, you too."

"Hey Hosh, before you go -" Hoshi brought the phone back to his ear.

"What's her name?"

Hoshi choked, distracted for a second.

"Y-Y/N." He stated, softer than usual. It made Jeonghan smile.

"That's a pretty name."

"Yeah." Hoshi breathed in response, chest tight.

"How is she holding up?" He asked sensitively.

Hoshi brushed his knuckles over your forehead. The heat was still there, but not as bad. But regardless of fever, your body told him more than you probably ever verbally could. Such is being an Alpha, sometimes you just feel the truth before it’s known.

"Not good Han," Hoshi whined, readjusting the phone to his other cheek.

"It's like - she seems better since I got here. But she's burning up, Hyung. It only gets worse if I leave. I've tried everything I know. Suppressors don't seem to have helped at all and she seems… exhausted.

“The nurse said she’s having the worst symptoms she’s seen in a while, but not enough to be hospitalised. Her appetite is okay at least. But her eyes haven't settled yet…And Hyung, without being TMI, it smells like she’s in heat. Which, I guess she is, so it makes sense. But like, it’s more than I thought was normal?"

Jeonghan breathed the deepest sigh he had let out in a while. But it ended with a smile. Oh, younger brother, what have you gotten yourself into, Jeonghan thought humorously,

"I'll admit you're stupid, but not entirely."

Bit of an odd time for an insult. "What the hell man?" Hoshi frowned.

"No, shut up, listen. You're an idiot for getting attached so quickly - not that it's directly your fault -"

Hoshi scoffed, fingers tucking hair behind your ear. Your breath faltered as he brushed your neck, but continued as his hands drifted away.

"But you're right, for the most part. Bringing her home - to your apartment - will get her accustomed to a smaller space with new sharper senses. Your presence, your scent. It will give her a familiar wolf, Alpha, to grow comfortable with. Usually, it would be with the head of the pack regardless, so.”

Jeonghan sighed once more.

“I just hope you know what you’re doing. If you lead her on and lie, you could kill her with heartbreak. I’ll help you bring her to safety. Whatever happens then between the two of you, happens. I don’t want to know unless it affects the pack. Also, don’t ask me for sex advice Soonyoung because it’s almost two am and I would honestly rather die."

Hoshi snorted but nodded to himself, fiddling with the bedsheets. Jeonghan’s experience was talking now.

“Sure thing, Hyung. Thank you, for everything. You’re the best.”

"Of course, Soonyoungie. Anything for you. On the other hand, there is something you need to seriously consider.” Jeonghan continued with a grunt, getting dressed on the other side of the line.

“With so many werewolves in one building, the majority being Alpha’s - due to their smell and being able to sense everybody’s presence from sixth sense, she’ll probably be able to tell the difference - the whole thing could seriously freak her out. Seriously freak her out, Soonyoung.

“Are you prepared to calm her down, if it comes to that? Resist your instincts and act with compassion; put her before your needs?" Jeonghan asked kindly.

He was assessing the connection. Figuring out if this was a weirdly developing friendship that could end up with you getting terribly hurt, or if it was a genuine connection in which his younger brother would lay his life on the line to protect both of you. If it came between you and his family; would he be able to strike in his best interest.

Hoshi paused.

"Yeah, I would. I would do all of that, Hyung." He breathed, a deep whine following.

Jeonghan was convinced. Even from here, he could hear the strain in his chest. He understood the pain in having to even consider making that choice. But he had to be sure.

"Alright little man, make her wear an item of clothing - preferably yours - that covers her scent as much as possible, and I'll meet you guys in the foyer, pronto. Good luck. Stay safe. Try to comfort her. She’s going through more than either of us could ever imagine, so she has a right to be anxious."

Hoshi smiled. "And you man. I will, of course. Thank you so, so much Han. I could kiss you right now."

Jeonghan sucked on his teeth. "Aww no need, you can kiss me when you see me. Now hurry up and send me the address. Okay, bye."

"Yeah, bye." Hoshi confirmed, quickly texting his brother the Hotel's address.

He chuffed one big intake of breath before kissing softly at your shoulder, squeezing the flesh of your thighs gently but intermittently.

"Y/N, flower, we need to move. Come on petal, I'm sorry, I know you're in pain." With a groan, you blinked up at his bright phone, then the bright lamp switched on to his side. You decided it would probably be better to keep them shut at this rate, it wasn’t like you could make much out anyways.

"I’m sorry to wake you up but we gotta go. Come on. I'm taking you home." Hoshi's heart throbbed at the word.

"Home?" You mumbled, sitting up with aid. He kissed your forehead before rising from the bed to grab his hoodie from the floor. "My home?" Your arms lifted to protect your modesty, but Hoshi paid no mind. You were both adults.

"No petal, mine." He whispered, shuffling the hoodie around until he found the bottom and rolled up to the tip of the sleeves.

"Jeonghan, my older brother and head of the group will be meeting us. Helping us to get in swiftly and easily. Arms up, Y/N." You let Hoshi hold your wrists, shuffling the roomy hoodie down your skin. It enveloped you in his scent and it gave you a small high as you groaned slightly. Unable to ignore the slickness starting to appear between your thighs.

"But-" You grunted, head swamped by material, tugging it back from your head. "This isn't exactly a great time for family introductions, Soonyoung." You whined, reaching for his touch. He scoffed, leaning to peck your lips in reassurance.

Only he caught himself lingering, sticking to you like velcro. Mouth memorising your lips until his tongue knew the exact way to rile you up.

He pulled away after placing a kiss to the corner of your mouth, apologising for riling you up and reaching for your skirt. Returning with the item to wiggle the material up your knees and calves.

"I know." He assured, kissing the inside of your knee as he reached for your hips to help you stand. “But you’ll be fine. Hannie’s - well, he’s softer than he might seem at first. He really cares. You've just gotta trust me here, Y/N, to get us both out safely. Do you trust me?”

"Of course." You mumbled with a pout. As if at this point there was any other option.

Lifting your hips, Hoshi tugged the fabric up onto your hips before swatting away your hands to zip the fabric. Pulling the hoodie over the skirt, he placed a kiss on your lips. Smiling before moving to stand up and away from you, looking around your room for something.

"What if I throw up?" You sulked.

"Then I'll clean it up." He said walking around the bed.

"Yuck. That’s disgustingly nice of you."

"Yeah, well, try not to throw up, silly. Come on, where are your shoes?"

Rubbing at your eyes with the fabric sleeves you yawned loudly, stretching sore arms above your head. Settling, you shrugged with a slap of your lips.

"I don’t know, I didn't bring any. They took the heels I had been wearing. My best work shoes, in fact."

“They... What?” He laughed slightly in shock. “They took your heels away? What - who's they, Y/N?"

"The nurse. Apparently, they were classed as 'threatening items'. They took them when they came in to check I wasn’t going to end it all over my room service noodles. Must have cried too loud, oops.

“Those heels cost me a fortune as well! I gave them up in the end otherwise she wouldn’t have given me the suppressors. Or the noodles, mean lady."

Hoshi scoffed, coming back round to face you. He brushed hairs away from your sleepy forehead, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. Those kisses were cute, and you wouldn’t mind a few more for the journey. He laughed in disbelief. You were becoming his little issue.

"The only threatening item I see in this room is that ass misses. Come on, I'll have to carry you." He whispered humorously, reaching for your hips.

“That was hot, but - I’m heavy, Soonyoung. Like, a full-grown woman's weight. I can walk. I’ll walk out there, it’ll be fine.”

Hoshi raised his eyebrow. “Uh-huh.”

Biting your lip you swiped the air with a snort after a short standoff of raised eyebrows and looks that said ‘yeah, sure you can’.

“Yeah okay, never mind. Thanks, Soonie.” Hoshi smiled kindly, ruffling your hair before leaning down to help shuffle your body forward.

“My pleasure. Shuffle forward a bit for me? Thanks…”

Before you knew it, your legs rested around his hips and you clung to him like a drug addict's next fix. You yelped loudly on the lift and he laughed, your arms looping around his neck.

Oh god. He was fit. Like, physically strong and handsome. The God’s really do have favourites, huh?

"You good? Feeling any better?” Hoshi asked as he dipped to pick up his phone, wallet, and keys from the dresser. Voice a little pressed but still considerate to your adjusting ears.

Tired and being carried to safety by a handsome boy; you could die happy right now.

"Mmhmm, for the most part." You whispered, relaxing into his strong arms. Chin and neck flopping to rest against his strong shoulders.

You admired the strong curve of his back muscles, seeing his shoulders tense and roll over his back from this angle. Hoshi had to will every cell in his body not to think about your scent and how close you were right now. Standing up was starting to hit a little different.

“I don’t feel as sick. My eyes hurt though and my vision isn’t great. I could probably do with a feast tomorrow, also. To get some energy back...”

"Good.” He grunted, shuffling his grip to place the key card into your lap and hitch you deliberately not onto his screaming crotch, but instead firmly onto his hip.

“We can order food all day if you want. Can you hold the key card please, pup? We’ll give it to reception on the way down."

You curled a brow at the pet name but chose not to comment, holding it in your hands as you adjusted your grip on his shoulders.

“Your eyes will settle, in a few hours or so. I’m not one hundred percent sure but, it’s got something to do with the light sensitivity so - try not to do anything stupid like, stare into the sun tomorrow, please.” You snorted, shaking your head. Silly boy.

“You should be able to see better soon, though. The headache will go away too. Let me know if it gets any worse, I’ve got tons of suppressors at home.”

Hoshi walked over to the windows, shifting you so that he could pull the two windows firmly shut with one strong arm. Looking around, he shook his head.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. You have permission to yell at me for my decisions next time.”

“Hosh, please. What’s done is done.” You yawned again, resting your eyes. You could care less about the room now that you were being held like a baby. A very big, cute baby, mind you.

“Do you want to bring your phone?” He asked gently.

You shook your head. “Not much point. That phone’s done. Finished. Finito.”

“Right.” Hoshi nodded to himself as he took you both out to the hallway, using a hand to lock the door shut.

It was very possible that you had begun to fall asleep, as he walked down the long corridor towards the lift. Your breath had begun evening out and your eyes remained firmly closed. Your body relaxed, so Hoshi adjusted his grip, rounding you both into the lift.

“You know,” He stated out loud, testing the waters. Ahh, you had fallen asleep. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone look so cute and ridiculous all at the same time, Y/N. You’re pretty special like that, I guess.”

Your peaceful snores answered him, a heavy feeling pressing against his chest. God, you made him feel so heavy and weightless, all at the same time.

You stirred only as Hoshi spoke to the amazingly helpful employees at reception.

At first, you thought you had gone blind, but after a second you understood what had happened. Hoshi’s unreasonably soft hoodie had been tugged over your head, giving you an extra layer of security. And protecting your eyes from the blinding hobby chandeliers.

At your body being tipped into the back of a cold white leather car, you stirred once more.

You guessed heaven could only last so long; releasing Hoshi’s neck so that he could close the door and come round the other side, removing the hood from your head as he slid in with an annoying ruffle of your hair, instructing the driver to move off.

The car didn’t come with seatbelts, otherwise, you would’ve put them on. Hoshi shuffled next to you, present in body, but his tired eyes were stuck to his phone screen. You puffed your cheeks, resting your cheek on his shoulder. He smiled to himself, reaching to fumble with a loose fray at the end of your skirt.

“That tickles.” You smiled, loving his small pause before continuing.

“What are you reading?” You asked faintly, aware that it could be private and confidential from the driver. Had your eyes not been getting used to better nocturnal vision; you would have been surprised at his ease, displaying his screen to you freely. Thankfully, he had the brightness down. He wasn’t a heathen, like some people you knew.

He looked down at you, then back to his phone as you caught eyes. You could’ve sworn you saw a blush sweeping across his face.

“Umm, nothing much pup. Texts. Jeonghan said he’s ready waiting and I asked if he could get you some slippers.” You smiled into his shoulder, squinting at the screen before giving up.

“Thank you, Soonie, that’s very kind.” Hoshi beamed at your compliment, eyes creasing.

“No worries.”

“So, to be clear; you asked him to get me shoes after he had gone all the way down to the lobby?” You yawned, looking up at his guilty smile.

“Ahh, well - yeah, I did. I wasn’t thinking.” You hummed in amusement at him. Better Jeonghan than you, truly.

“And did he?”

Hoshi bit his lip. Shit, Jeonghan had set him up. “Umm, yeah. He brought down a pair of my slippers. Umm - do you - do you like tigers, Y/N?”

Hoshi was definitely blushing. In fact, his ears were a burning red. You squealed up at him.

“Of course! Tigers are amazing, sexy and cute. I’m sure I’ll love them, chibi or otherwise.”

But you had embraced his weirdness completely.

“Err - cool.” He finished, unsure what to say, but buzzing with butterflies internally.

The rest of the drive was taken in comfortable silence. Hoshi texted back and forth with Jeonghan and was oddly comforted by your body pressed against his side. Oddly because Hoshi almost couldn’t believe how hard and fast he was starting to develop feelings for you.

He just prayed that this feeling would last.

Spider-Boy Is A Dog In This One - (1 / 3)

Spider-Boy Is A Dog In This One - (2 / 3)

Spider-Boy Is A Dog In This One - (3 / 3) - FINALE

well would you look at that: updated 03/OCTOBER/2021

[nettlestonenell]

Let’s talk.

Citizens of the Republic, Subjects of the Kingdom, and Gentle Readers, here you will find Part 3 of a failing attempt to dictate my thoughts during a The King: Eternal Monarch rewatch.

Touching on topics such as:

the Netflix-available trailer review

how looking like you stepped out of a manhwa might harm your career trajectory

other ways in which Netflix destroys my constant-pause viewing style and how to switch them off

Hangul v. Hanja

thoughts on the opening credits

Anyway, back to the trailer. Does this trailer, is the question, does it make me wanna watch this show? 

I'll watch it again, it's one minute long and then I'll review it. 

Actually, it says god had released demons into the world and it shows us the flute. And it talks about how demons opened up the passage to a parallel world, OK, so my review of the trailer is that trailers on Kdramas are really hard for me because I have to read subtitles. This trailer is full of a lot of quick cuts, and so because of that, I can't really absorb what is generally going on. 

And of course, TKEM trailer is gonna be even more confusing because it's babbling on about parallel worlds and doppelgangers and all these other things. It's just too much to keep track of. Obviously, it makes sense to me now because I've watched the show. But in so far as something that would make me wanna watch the show, I don't think that it would. 

Now mind you, most Kdrama trailers are not gonna make me want to watch the show that they're for, 'cause once again It's just like my eyeballs are pingpong-ing between trying to see what is going on and reading subtitles. And it's just System overload. 

It has really, it has some of the great music. That great instrumental? I'm not gonna know what to call it, but maybe I'll look up what instrumental that is that's playing. [I didn’t] It shows a little bit of that high-level, that elevated cinematography that you're gonna get [on this show]. That's very pretty. And then of course, while I don't know that it fully highlights him, because it does, but I think it probably does highlight him. It shows you LMH and it just brings to mind the quote that I heard, one of the directors said for Gangnam Blues, which was that he looks like he stepped out of a manhwa. [the director mentioned this when saying that quality got in the way of whether he should cast LMH in the role he ultimately got] And I mean, the person that said this, I think it tickled them and made them giggle in the same way that it makes me giggle because I find LMH to just be ridiculously striking on-screen, particularly in TKEM. 

And of course, LMH's got all these glamour shots taken of him as if it's the 1940s, black-and-white-Hollywood, where they’d take four days to film an actress’s perfect close-up. So they’d look peak beautiful. 

LMH definitely hits all of those notes in this trailer where you might have to just take a minute after watching it and try to, I don't know, recompose yourself, take a sip of water or find your smelling salts. 

Someone bring KGE a glass of water, or a cold towel. As shown, her working conditions are egregious.

But if you looked back to the subtitles, it definitely says that the portal is opened by demons, so I don't know. I think I might have to ask. I can't think of her name. I'll have to look it up [@accioecho​ ] to get in her asks and see if she would translate the word as ‘demons’ when we're looking at the flute, or if that's referring to the Traitor. Who? What are the demons? But then also it, of course, as I say, it said that god had let demons into the world. Does that make The Dragon King of the East Sea god? I mean, he does seem to be a divinity in Korean culture. But as far as I can tell, not having studied Korean culture, there is polytheism at work historically. There are many deities. So, I don't know. Which god are we talking about?

I mean, somebody started us down this path before the Traitor took the wheel

Are we ready to start watching this? Says I've talked 5 pages. And I don't know if that makes me ready to start watching the show or not.

This is a show that I like to watch at night. When it's dark outside. Because for whatever reason, it's a show that makes me feel very cozy. Obviously, your mileage may vary as to whether this show makes you feel cozy, and I'm sure it didn't make me feel cozy when I originally watched it, because how could it?

I will also say that I'm tickled that Netflix has finally added a double thumbs up ability for me in rating the show because that was an issue that I was having that Netflix would always be asking me to rate things and I would think well, you know, I liked it, but did I like it the same as Rookie Historian? No, I liked Rookie Historian just fine. I liked it a reasonable amount. It scratched the itch that I had and I found it a pleasant experience, but I would not put it on the same par as this show which obviously is enough of an obsession that I am now talking to you about it, into a voice dictating word processing program.

If you don't think that every time that I hear the da dong of the Netflix “N” coming up on my screen and think of Eun Sup folding laundry, then you’re wrong.

 Additionally, it is not lost on me that this is also the product of Studio Dragon, just like Crash Landing on You. Generally, when I was originally watching the show, I would skip after watching the credits once, I would consistently skip the credits. I don't do that now. I think because originally I was just very anxious to get down to business. I needed to see what was gonna happen on the show. But now I find the credits really enjoyable. They're moody, the music is cool. There's a lot to look at, and so I appreciate it more.

The icon which is, I don't know, the writing that has a clock sunk into it, and the clock is ticking backwards. Other than hopefully I think it means to show that time is not functioning properly, it's not like we really turn time backwards here, is it? I guess you could say that going back to the night of the treason is in a sense turning time backwards, but then we don't have to relive it in the same way, we don't really live through all of that time [again]. Anyway, it I like it. I like the ticking. I know that they use it in a couple of episodes at the end. I'm not sure that they use it in every one. I guess we'll find out [in this rewatch]. But I think it's effective.

Interestingly, although in canon the flute is made of bamboo, I think it's mentioned several times and then also historically the flute, which if you look it up, is a historical item, though no one that talks about it travelling between worlds, but the Manpasikjeok is definitely a historical item, and it is made of bamboo. But the tree that we're shown in the credits. I think is not. It's certainly not a bamboo tree. Is it a ginkgo tree?

Of the [kdrama] shows that I've seen, I feel like this is one of the few shows or possibly the only show that's going to give you both English and Korean for the names in the credits. Is it the Hangul or the Hanja? [I think Hangul] And then a Westernized version and one without hyphens, whichever one that is [it’s neither Revised Romanization or McCune–Reischauer, those would be: Revised Romanization= Gim Go-eun McCune–Reischauer= Kim Koŭn, it’s like a hybrid] of actors’ names. So that to me is interesting [the notion that already with the credits we are being shown that this program is expected to appeal to audiences outside of Korea].

But here's this first shot on the bridge where the bridge is twisted and there's someone standing on the bridge. And then we're seeing at the top of the screen it's, the truth is, it's not like we're seeing the Republic and then the Kingdom on the bottom, because we know that the Kingdom also has very highly technologically advanced modern cities, but it is something that's showing duality where we're sort of seeing a version of ancient Korean architecture on the bottom of the screen,

This is the yellow screen that has LMH and KGE’s names in the opener. 

If a person is Korean, some of the buildings, when they start showing specific things they're gonna maybe be notable. We get like an arch, which of course to my Western eyes anytime there's an arch I think of L’Arc de Triomphe in Paris, which obviously this is not, but I assume that it might be a significant Korean landmark. 

(also it morphs into another arch) 

And then we end on an image that I just adore with all my being:

You've got the statue of Admiral Yi Sun-Shin in the background at Gwanghwamun Square, which I was familiar with before, when I truly watched (not that first time when I gave up)-- I was aware of that square because of Memories of the Alhambra where people are like fighting in it when they're fighting in their altered reality. 

But this, this image I really love, so I paused Netflix and I like this image a whole lot where she's opposite him on the horse. And there's the reflection in the water. And it's just beautiful. 

What doesn’t it tell you about this show? There’s reflection, calling out the parallel worlds in the water, but also Lee Gon’s side is bluer, Tae-Eul’s is yellow/orange, they’re in opposition to each other. We’re in Seoul, the wind has JTE’s coat but not Maximus’ tail. Lee Gon not only looks white knightly/kingly, he’s seated on a very tall horse, elevated from JTE who stands on the ground in her very regular trenchcoat. The leads are not on equal footing. 

The image is epic, showing the type of story we’re going to get, and the high quality of the cinematography to come is also teased by it. It is, as GBBO would say, an absolute showstopper.

I could talk about it for a long time, probably, but this brings me to this annoyance that I currently have with Netflix that I don't know that I can stop, and that is when all they want to do is slap these advertisements over a paused image. 

I like the paused image. I wanted to see it, but I can't see it, because now you're telling me I need to watch Hi, Bye, Mama. And this is not like much time elapses as I'm sure you know. If you watch Netflix, before this pops up, this pops up Kaboom almost instantly. And I don't know if that's 'cause they don't want me to take a screen grab of it. I mean, I'm watching it on my television so I wouldn't have the ability to do that anyway. Maybe i need to get down into the Netflix settings and see if there's some way to get rid of this but boo i hate it.

For me at least, these advertisements popping up are newer. I used to spend time like trying to look in the reflection [of the image] to see if things were different, of them standing on the square, looking at each other, but I have not been able to discover if anything is different. I I think it's the same. I think that it's the actual reflection of what we're looking at, but you can never be too sure with this show, 'cause this the show has got a lot for you to look at on reviewing, as I'm sure you know if you're willing to still be reading six page in.

[PSA:: Here’s how I found you can turn off those image suggestions that pop up when you pause Netflix:] There's a way to turn them off.

Account page, scroll down to the link for "test participation"

Once you are in the test-participation page, simply toggle the button to "off"]

...tbc..

Good news! In the next post we’ll actually start the show!

[bluebellhairpin]

Favours - Part Four

Mafia AU! Levi Ackerman X Fem!Reader

Part Three // Part Five

A/N: This is short, because my keyboard went apesh*t. I’m typing this up with a Nokia Flip Phone. - Nemo

Warning(s): Blood. Dismemberment. Alludes to Murder. It all starts under the cut.

Summary: A nasty gift. The cavalry. A diamond necklace. A once-in-a-lifetime meeting. How much can you fit in one day?

Listening to: ‘Diamonds’ by Megan Thee Stallion and Normani - ‘Diamonds are a girl’s best friend.’ 

Series Masterlist

Masterlist  

Sometimes the world was cruel. Unfortunately, with life you led, all anyone knew was cruelty. 

When you woke the morning after your meeting with Zeke, Rod, and Levi, you had something waiting for you. It had already left its mark on those of the building's residents who were awake - and on your front doorstep. Nanaba, the eldest of such awake residents, instantly went to wake you when she saw what it was. She burst your bedroom door open, thrusting your half-asleep mind awake, with a look that spoke a thousand words. You didn't need her to tell you - you were up and throwing on a housecoat before she could utter a single word.

What you were met with in the foyer was not a pretty sight. Hence the eerie silence.

The front door was left wide-open, and a trail of drops and splatters led to the circular table in front of you. In the center - and no doubt the cause of the mess - was a crystal vase. Wrapped with a silk bow, and housing red rose blooms. In the midst of the flowers were skewers - topped with eyeballs and pieces of flesh - which no doubt was the cause of the red tint in the water.

If the iron smell didn't put you off as you approached it, the smell of meat that had been in the sun too long sure did.

You spotted a piece of white card. Reaching among the crimson mess, you pulled it out. A message was scrawled on it in messy handwriting. 

"'Roses are red, our blood is too. You're playing with the big boys now, l hope your friends know that too.'" you read aloud. Tapping the card between your fingers, you thought.

"I think," Hange said, plucking the card from your grasp, "That we need to make some phone calls."

───────✱.｡:｡✱.:｡✧.｡✰✧.｡:✱───────

The convoy of black BMW's that pulled into your driveway was - at best - too 'extra'.

Likewise was the small army of men that stepped out of said cars. Naturally, at the forefront, was Levi.

He was almost wearing a full suit, jacket lacking to put on display, a form-fitting vest, and tie discarded also - he looked awfully casual as he stepped through your front door.

You didn't know why you had called him specifically, but his attitude and demeanor thus far pleased you greatly. You found later last night that he also hadn't agreed to Zeke's offer. That did make him trust you a lot more.

He was proving true to his word.

"You were right when you said it 'wasn't pleasant'." he said, eyeing the red vase as he stepped around to your side. "It sure isn't a bouquet I'd want on Valentines Day."

"I'm aware." You replied, shifting your arms around to cross them as you kept looking at the vase.

"I'm guessing we all assume it was Jaeger that sent it," Erwin said, "Yes?"

"Yes." Hange said. "We had prints run. Got the results as positive right before you came in."

"You 'ran prints'?"

"Uh huh," you looked over at Levi, "There isn't much we can't do here."

"Anyway!" Hange said, clasping her hands together, "The prints were Zeke's, so he wrote the card. The DNA from the .... other 'gifts' have so far all matched profiles of women who worked for Rod Reiss."

"I'm wondering less and less why you don't like those two." Erwin mumbled.

You sighed, running a hand down your face you found yourself thinking again. Zeke was threatening you - using Rod's resources to do so, so he wouldn't 'waste' any of his own no doubt - and so far it wasn't working. Were you shook up? Definitely. Anyone would be. But you weren't going to let it get to you. He'd need to try harder than just a few flowers.

"Yimr, find someone who won't get sick to clean this up." You gestured to the vase. "Hange, get back to working on those other DNA results. Find out who those women were. Find their families. You know the rest."

"What's 'the rest'?" Levi asked, moving to flank you as you turned to led him and his men into the building.

"It's not why you're here." You said, "You're here to help me find out about these jewels, and why that monster who dares claim he's a man wants them." 

───────✱.｡:｡✱.:｡✧.｡✰✧.｡:✱───────

The jewels, as it turned out, were pieced together to form a necklace and matching earrings - hence Zeke's comment at last night's dinner.

And they were nothing short of magnificent.

The necklace was chocked to the nines with small, pure, one-of-a-kind diamonds. Slightly larger yellow diamonds were around the neckline, and as the centerpiece - a large, and rare, red diamond.

Both earrings had a similar style - mostly because of the great number of small white diamonds that outlined the two yellow, and singular red diamonds on each piece. But despite their beauty, and great worth, that was not they Zeke Jaeger wanted them.

"... by mob law, he will be 'king' if he gets ownership of those jewels." Levi said, tapping his finger on the glass table as he looked over the shrewn papers and photos.

"That's the gist of it." Erwin said. Furlan sighed from Levi's side.

"Shame, they look real good." he said.

"Um, no. That's not why him getting them is bad." You said, standing to point out highlighted parts of the papers. "He becomes Our boss if he gets them. He wants the power they hold, and he will use it. Personally, I didn't make it this far to be on the end of a leash - or, undoubtedly, some trophy wife either."

"You're right. You - or I - aren't here to serve others." Levi said, tilting his head at you. "You don't deserve whatever he will ask either."

Petra chose then to poke her head in the door. You nodded at her.

"You have a call, line two."

"Thank you, Petra," you said, turning to the others with a hand on the phone, "Will you give me a moment?" They murmured their 'yeses' and 'sure's'.

The person who introduced themselves sounded young. If they didn't sound so professional, you may have mistook them for Historia trying to prank-call you - then too, she wasn't like that.

As your phone call went on, your lips twitched up into an amused smile.

"Thank you, sir." you said, glee evident in your tone. "I greatly look forward to meeting with you." Saying your final goodbyes to the caller, you hung up.

"Who was that that you're looking so smug?" Hange snickered.

Sitting, you looked across at Levi, who had his head rested against his hands. He looked dead at you, expectant. But with your growing smile, and the look in your eyes, he sat up straight.

"I have a meeting," you started, "With one Armin Arlert."

───────✱.｡:｡✱.:｡✧.｡✰✧.｡:✱───────

Series Taglist is now Open!

[honourablejester]

Some thoughts for potential characters for an Arabian Nights/Voyages of Sinbad the Sailor style D&D desert campaign, since Genie Warlock is now an official thing

Point of note: The Golden Voyage of Sinbad is one of my favourite Ray Harryhausen movies, and one of my favourite Classic Hollywood swashbuckler/fantasy/adventure movies (allowing for its extremely 70s sensibilities and attitudes), and its influence is probably going to be very clear here. Heh. (Honourable mention to the 40s Thief of Bagdad also)

Firstly, I feel like a specifically Arabian-Nights-ish setting might let you get in some of the more unusual races more easily. Depending on if we’re going fully desert with this, or if we’re adding in Sinbad-style coastal/mountain/jungle shenanigans, you’ve got room for things like aarakocra, yuan-ti, tabaxi, genasi, tritons, sea-elves, goliaths, tortles, etc.

(Sidenote on monsters for the campaign: you cannot have an Arabian Nights inspired setting and not include a Roc at some point. It’s just not done, I demand giant birds. Actually, given the variety of monsters in Arabian Nights and all the myriad spin-off stories from it, you could probably throw in just about anything. All the sea monsters. Anything found in a haunted desert ruin or Cave of Wonders style dungeon. All the constructs, Jaffar in Thief of Bagdad certainly felt free to throw in all the mechanical murder weapons.

On that note. Actually. Warforged PCs. The ‘Silver Maiden’ who didn’t want to assassinate a king for some sorcerer. Or did assassinate a king for some sorcerer, and is now dealing with the fallout. Huh.

But. Anyway. I just. Love the Roc. It’s iconic)

Some backgrounds that fit nicely for your stereotypical Arabian Nights adventures: pirate, sailor, fisher, criminal, charlatan, urchin, courtier, sage, far traveller, guild artisan/merchant, possibly also archaeologist if we’re counting ‘delving into desert ruins’ under ‘archaeology-ish activities’

Classes and subclasses that instantly jump out:

Rogues are instantly the archetypal hero type here, given Aladdin, Sinbad, Ali Baba, et al. Heh. Swashbucklers and arcane tricksters also jump out among subclasses, because adventuring sailors and magic thieves. Rogues just grok really well in general though. Roll up all your sly, streetwise, impulsive, treasure-driven, secretly noble thief princes and line ‘em up!

So … A tabaxi archaeologist-slash-arcane trickster who grew up a street urchin and found themselves getting sent into strange desert ruins for cash from a very young age, until they just got a taste for it and went into business for themselves? Or a water genasi sailor-swashbuckler who’s looking to buy/acquire their own ship and are willing to go a lot of strange places and take a lot of strange jobs to get the capital up? Or a halfling street thief who very inadvisedly fell in love with royalty and is looking for enough cash to successfully masquerade as a noble suitor?

Warlocks, since genielocks are the reason we’re here in the first place, so we’ll obviously throw that in. Fathomless, fiend and undying also fit very nicely, depending on where we’re bouncing in our desert voyages, fathomless for coasts and undying for tombs

For the genie, because I’m still in love with the ‘live in your vessel’ idea, I’m feeling like Jafar’s peddler disguise from Aladdin could come in here. An actual peddler, guild-artisan, who encountered a djinni in the desert, and now has a few odder tricks up their sleeve, and on occasion sleeps in their lamp. I feel like rock gnome would work here? Not sure why. Alternately, we could go with the original fisherman-frees-a-genie-from-a-bottle, and get a poor (sea-elf?) bastard who is very out of their depth over here?

Bards, my darling bards, leaning into the court shenanigans a setting like this offers. If Scheherazade herself was anything, she was a bard. Lore, whispers and eloquence all jump out nicely. Also, here’s where you see my Golden Voyage love, because my absolute favourite character in that was the Vizier. He had it all. Genteel manners, tragic backstory, facial disfigurement, honourable motives. Sure, you have your Disney Jafar viziers, but you also have your historical Jafar viziers, and everybody loves some court shenanigans.

So. A human/half-elf courtier-turned-fugitive lore bard, who ran badly afoul of his court’s new ‘court wizard’, to the tune of a hideously disfigured face that he hides behind a quite beautiful mask, who’s out looking for people to help him fight said wizard and reclaim his kingdom for its just rulers?

On that note, Sorcerers and Wizards are obviously genre staples (admittedly often as villains, but hey). If you’re leaning a bit on some ‘court wizard’ shenanigans, then sorcerers with subtle spell might have an interesting edge, and pretty much all flavours of wizard would fit right in

Putting the yuan-ti in as the wizard/sorcerer might be a bit on the nose (though possibly not as much as the genie warlock with, say, a basket as a vessel), but they do also fit very nicely with both the court shenanigans and also tomb-diving aspects of this kind of setting/story. So. A yuan-ti pureblood illusion wizard who’s trying to find a specific tomb/cavern, a-la the Cave of Wonders? Or a tiefling sorcerer whose life’s goal is to successfully become court wizard and/or vizier?

Of the martial classes, I feel like Monks oddly fit quite nicely. Sun soul might even get a decent look in, as well as long death and mercy. Possibly it’s still the rogue thing, but Arabian Nights as a genre just feels very Dex-based to me. We survive on skill and savoir-faire and slyness, not force and faith.

Also, random inspiration here, but the RL archaeological discovery of the 5000-year-old 6ft tall Iranian lady found in a Burnt City with a golden artificial eyeball wired into her skull is of some influence here. A sun soul monk lady with a golden eye from a ruined desert city taken over by a blue dragon would be … a very cool thing. I feel. Heh

And of course, anything else you feel like. Just because my brain is ruled by rogues and sorcerers here doesn’t mean that’s all there could be. Light, tempest and knowledge clerics feel nicely evocative as well. Storm barbarians. Swarmkeeper ranger with a locust swarm, if we want to throw in some earlier influences. Stars druids work really nicely for the navigator idea, both as desert walkers and nautical navigators. Anything you want, really.

I guess I’m kind of surprised that I don’t really hear much about coastal desert-y style campaigns in D&D. It has all the monsters for it. And, like, if ever there was a genre of story focused on tiny heroes facing really weird monsters, the Odyssey/Sinbad the Sailor type stories are very much it.

[platypanthewriter]

Dildos and Hayfever

Harringrove April prompt day 13, Hayfever.  Detective Billy Hargrove's had a rough time lately, and Captain Hopper assigns him a partner who'll either make everything worse...or everything better.

“All you need to know is he’s the commissioner’s son,” rang in Billy’s head as he stalked down the hall.  Hopper had followed up with “I told him you were fresh out of rehab,” and  “I’m sure you can remember enough of the ropes to show him, right, it’s not like he’s gonna be doing the work anyway,” and Billy gritted his teeth, punching the elevator buttons with a vengeance.  

The light flickered, worsening the headache that always came on in the spring when all the flowers bloomed, and every tree on every sidewalk in the city shot its rocks off in midair—or when he had to walk into the office of the captain.  This morning, to his utmost joy, he’d had both, and he took the opportunity of alone time in the elevator to blow his nose, hard.  

Captain Hopper meant well, probably, Billy told himself, and set his shoulders.

 He found the right building because of the smoke pouring out half the upper windows, the six fire trucks, and the EMTs coming out with the victims—a nice brownstone, before.  Billy looked—somewhat hopelessly—for an elevator, sighed, and hauled himself up seven flights of stairs, sneezing.

Police Commissioner Harrington’s son was interviewing witnesses.  Billy’d seen him before—always with his own office, always flirting with whoever worked reception, always with his uniform tailored.  How he’d brokered a transfer to Major Crimes was a riddle Billy couldn’t wait to ask about—though if he was absolute dead weight, Hopper would probably come up with another solution to Billy’s bullshit, and kick Harrington back onto a desk somewhere.

Harrington was on an upper landing, listening to a black lady and her husband.  They looked in their...seventies, maybe, well-off, both crying, and clutching tabby cats.  “I can speak to you later,” he said gently, “—if you’d like to—” but the woman shook her head, grabbing his hand.

“He’s a good boy,” she said, sniffling, “—and you better catch whoever did this.  Anyone who could do this.  There aren’t many young men ready to haul an old lady’s groceries up nine flights, or open her pickle jars, either.  Anything we can tell you—”

The man nodded too, holding her hand, and Harrington crouched, jotting down their story, while Billy showed his ID and ducked under the crime scene tape into the half-gutted apartment.  He listened as he pulled the whole crime scene kit on, his gloves, mask, booties, and haircap and all.  

It smelled horrible, still thick with greasy smoke that clung to the inside of Billy’s sinuses, and he was grateful for the mask.

The parts of the apartment that hadn’t caught fire were nice—nicer than he could afford, certainly—with art everywhere, photos, paintings...and a floor-to-ceiling, sculptural mobile he couldn’t help thinking looked like a cock.  He surveyed the scene—a coffee table with wine glasses for two, chocolate-dipped strawberries, and chocolate dick-shaped marshmallows, in front of a couch with penis-shaped pillows.  

There was a spray-painted  ‘GOD HATES F—’ on the wall, the last word obscured by char from the fire, but Billy honestly wasn’t sure it was new, given the decor in general, and the adjacent broken glass glued to the wall in a penis shape.  He leaned in and sniffed it, and he could still smell the fumes of the paint.  He snapped a few pictures of it, for later.

When he backed up to get a wider view, his shoulder thumped into someone.  “Sorry,” said Harrington, and then, showing why he’d made detective, “...that huge thing on the ceiling kinda looks like a dick.”

“A lot of things in this apartment do, you’ll find,” said Wheeler, the lead CSI, raising her eyebrows at Billy with a smirk.  He tensed, a little, but she just started giving him the report, and he nearly shut his eyes in relief.  “Including the weapon.”  She waved at a bagged, cement dong sculpture that looked like art deco.  “It probably didn’t take any prints,” she said, sighing, “—with a gritty surface like that.”  Harrington grimaced, wincing, and touching his head.  

“The victim will probably regain consciousness,” Wheeler went on.  “He left the windows open all along that side of the apartment,” she pointed, “—and with as windy as it’s been today, it sucked the fire away from him, so he didn’t get much smoke inhalation.”

“What even...robbery?” Harrington asked, then, “Domestic violence?” and she grimaced, clicking around on her tablet.  

“From his phone, it looks like a first date.  We’re going over it with a fine-tooth comb, though,” she said, frowning at Billy, then down at her tablet.  “Since the assailant obviously wanted the crime scene burned to the ground.”

Billy nodded, his eyes watering either from the fumes, or the pollen count.  He sneezed inside his mask, and grimaced as it stuck to his face wetly.  “Who is the victim?” he asked, sighing, and wrinkling his nose.

“Ishaq Hill,” Harrington put in, glancing between them.  “Profession, camboy.  Posted photos and videos of himself, pinup style mostly, artsy, sometimes naked.  Neighbors don’t think it was stressing him out any, though, he just talked about being single a lot.”

Wheeler raised her eyebrows.  “Because of the head trauma, they’re keeping him in a medically induced coma, so we can’t ask him what happened at least until tomorrow.  But look,” she said, leaning between them to flick between photos on her tablet.  She zoomed in on the victim’s crotch, and Billy automatically shot an alarmed glance at the nearest human, who happened to be Harrington, his brown eyes frowning back.  

“Was there evidence of sexual assault?” he asked, and Wheeler shook her head, waving him closer.  

“No, no, look,” she said, zooming it in further.  “It’s hard to see, but look, the harness.  The color, there, against his white vinyl?  It’s a leather harness, dyed rainbow tie-dye.   The straps are cut—and it’s empty.”

Billy stared at her.  “...you’re saying the victim is trans,” he said slowly, making sure he had it right, “—and the attempted murderer stole his dick.”

“What the hell,” Harrington breathed.

She raised her eyebrows, waving her arms in a dramatic shrug.  “I have no idea!  But go look, there’s another one in the bedroom—” she pointed, and then bent back to sweeping something into a tiny ziploc bag.

In the bedroom, Harrington pointed at the waist-to-hip sculpture of a man, used to demo, apparently, turquoise leather straps similar to the rainbow straps they could make out in the photos.  This one had a securely-fitted glass dildo in it with a whole blown-glass coral reef inside.  Harrington bent close to stare at the cock made of tiny jellyfish and anemones, while Billy took in the display on the dresser—a whole array of fancy condoms and butt plugs, with decorated stands, and nameplates.  

“He must have used this stuff in videos,” Harrington said.  “Like, you know, unboxing.”

“I think he probably filmed less taking them out and more more putting them in things,” Billy muttered, as Harrington snickered, and then waved at the small, rhinestoned pastry stand labeled ‘God <3 Fags’.  It was empty.  

He looked over to see whether Harrington had noticed the empty stand, but he was fiddling with his phone.  “...doesn’t look like he had any nasty public messages, or anything,” he said, frowning.  “I’ll look through his account when we get back—”

“I’m gonna see where he gets all these dildos,” Billy said, frowning at one with what looked like birthday candles, and ‘Ishaq 23rd’ floating inside.  He pulled a drawer open, and found a few boxed vibrators, and a lot of lingerie.  “Some of this stuff has to be custom.  Maybe they’ll know which one got stolen.”  

“Oh,” Harrington said, brightening.  “Good idea!”

“You can call around,” Billy told him, and Harrington shot him a sideways glance that made Billy wonder if he was gonna be a shithead about his dad being the commissioner, but he just nodded.  He dropped into a chair at a desk out on the floor like any other cop when they got back to the precinct, searching up both Ishaq Hill’s social media, and local sex shops.

Billy went to find coffee and gossip, avoiding the old guard—his father’s friends.

“Steve’s all right,” said Holland, another CSI he thought he could trust, since she was friends with Wheeler.  She considered, crossing her arms.  “Everybody figures he’ll be bad at the job, so he gets all the desk work, and he’s kind of obnoxious, but he’ll get down and dust vac a bloody trunk, if you need him to.”  

Hagen in Vice sneered, and yelled for everyone to come say hey to Neil Hargrove’s son, back from rehab, and Billy turned on his heel and stalked back to his own department, his heart racing.

 He returned to hand Harrington a vending machine coffee, and Harrington looked grateful, toasting him in the air as he talked on the phone.  “No, ma’am, I’m not trying to make any trouble.  No, it’s nothing like—” he groaned, leaning his head against the handset, then sipped his coffee, and hit redial.  “Hey, I’m looking to buy custom, handmade dildos.  I’ve got a—” he grimaced at the wall, screwed up his face in thought, and then shrugged, glancing at Billy, and grimacing as he sighed.  “I’ve got a highschool ring I wanna put in a dildo.  Uh, go 2011!”  He listened.  “Oh, you do?  Oh, thanks so much,” he said, writing down a phone number, and mumbling more thank yous.  

“What’d you get?” Billy asked.

“Just another store to try,” Steve muttered. He kicked the desk, and rolled a couple feet closer to hand the post-it note to Billy.  “They don’t want to talk to me until I want a weird sex toy,” he said, flushing a little, but laughing.  “I’ve looked for one with plastic dinosaurs in it, a butt plug with my old glass eye—”

Billy snorted his coffee, coughing as Harrington scrambled up to pat his back.  

“I think one time I maybe said moose antlers,” he muttered, counting off on his fingers.  “That one must think I’m pretty weird.”

“Not the eyeball one though,” Billy choked out, trying not to die.  “The fake eye ass plug store thinks that’s normal as shit.”

“I just mean,” Steve said, blushing, and waving his arms in a vaguely antler-like shape from his head, “—moose antlers wouldn’t probably fit in my ass, you know?”

“Jesus H. Christ,” Billy gasped, wiping his eyes, leaned in to where Harrington had brought up Hill’s social media, and scrolled.  

“What’s all this shit about the Westboro Baptist Church?” he asked.

Steve was mumbling and scribbling, and then he hung up.  “Oh,” he nodded.  “They’ve been spamming ‘God Hates Fags’ on all his sites.  He’s been doing a big photoshoot with teasers, kind of...at them?  He kept tagging them.  It’s gone viral.”  He held out his phone, and Billy was treated to a lock screen of their assault victim on his knees, arms out like he was singing, his glittery dick spurting a cartoon rainbow.

“...sorry, that’s not very professional,” Harrington said, grimacing, and yanking it back.  “I’ll change it.”

“Did you see this at the crime scene?” Billy asked him, yanking his phone out and showing Harrington the spray-painted ‘GOD HATES F—’ he’d found on the wall.

“Holy shit,” Harrington said.  “Eugh, imagine them knowing where you live.  Shit, I didn’t even notice that.”  He sighed, and Billy kicked his chair, lightly.

“Kinda busy walls in that place,” he pointed out, and Steve shot him a smirk.

 “Hargrove!” a familiar voice yelled, and Detective Holloway ran up and gave Billy a hug.  “You look so good!” she told him, and then nodded at Harrington, and smiled back at Billy.  “We found the guy the date was with on Grindr.  They’re bringing him in.”

It was nice to have somebody happy to see him, even if her face made him kinda uncomfortable, knowing she’d been the one to catch him drinking in the supply room after all the—after.  

“Make him wait,” Billy said, considering.  “I wanna go through the conversations on Grindr.  He can work up some nerves first.”

“He’s ex-military,” she said, grimacing.  “His CV says his last job was as a ‘fully armed and trained combat specialist’ who did security for diamond mines in war-torn areas.  I don’t think you’re gonna make him nervous.”

“Eugh,” Harrington said, making a face.  “I can see why that date didn’t go well.  He probably dresses like a supervillain.”

Holloway’s look at him was a little withering, and he shut up, turning back to sit at his computer.  “Lemme know if you need anything,” she told Billy, frowning into his face, and he pushed her shoulder away, quirking his mouth.  

“...I’m okay,” he told her, and she didn’t look convinced, but she didn’t hug him again, at least.  

 “How are you doing?” Harrington asked, after she’d left, and after swallowing half the cup of coffee in one chipmunk-cheeked slurp.  He wiped his mouth, blinking wide brown eyes up at Billy, and Billy groaned.  

“Look, about what the captain—”

“I know the story,” Harrington said, tossing back the rest of the coffee like a bathtub drain.  Billy reminded himself to make Harrington pee before they got in a car together, like a little kid on a road trip.  “My dad’s the commissioner, I know the whole...thing,” he said, grimacing.  “You shoulda got a commendation.”

“...he was a dirty cop,” Billy grunted, hunching his shoulders.  “It’s our job to make sure—”

“Yeah, it is,” Steve agreed, nodding at his screen, and Billy relaxed a little, out from under the weight of sympathetic eyes.  “It’s our job, but not everybody does it.  And you knew what it was gonna be like.”

“I did,” Billy said, grimacing.  “I thought I did.”

“Hey, they let me into Major Crimes for this,” Harrington laughed, unhappily.  “Even if my police work isn’t up to scratch, they won’t try anything on you if I’m standing there.”

Billy watched him, and felt a kind of brotherhood, suddenly, looking at Harrington’s tight smile, and tense shoulders.  “...police work’s been okay so far,” he said, and Harrington shot him a startled grin.  “I’m gonna go...call the hospital,” Billy told him, suddenly needing to be somewhere else.  “Maybe swing by and take a look at our victim.”

“Oh,” Harrington said, nodding.  

Billy had a few more pictures of the harness sent over—Wheeler was right about what it was, at least—and then they brought the ex-military Grindr date in.  He didn’t look that intimidating, actually—his huge biceps were flexed as he held kleenex over his nose, sneezing so hard every few feet he staggered, and he was wearing a t-shirt with a badly-designed logo for a Queer Youth Charity Marathon.

“Hey,” Harrington whispered, touching his shoulder just before they went inside.  “Uh, there’s a lot of hate on there from the Westboro Baptist Church.  Like, they were getting specific, said someone doxxed him.”

In the interrogation room, their person of interest sneezed so hard snot dangled from both his nostrils, like a drooly dog.  Steve snorted a laugh, and walked off to lean against another detective’s desk—Carol’s, Billy thought.  

“Can I bribe you for some of that kleenex?” he asked, leaning in like he was flirting on a movie poster, and Carol laughed out loud, and hit him with it.  

“Take it and git,” she said, and Steve ran back, grinning.  

“Here we go,” he said, handing one to Billy.  “One for you, the rest of the box for him.”

 “I didn’t even stay for the whole date,” said Braxton Haglund, 34 years old, dark haired and caucasian, with a tattoo Billy could see peeking from under the sleeve of his t-shirt.  Haglund blew his nose, again, and the kleenex was so wet it made a noise as he dropped it against the table.  “He’d left the windows all open.  I walked up so many stairs—” he sneezed, miserably, several times, wadding handfuls of kleenex under his nose, and wiping his eyes.  

“God,” he mumbled.  “If I didn’t have hayfever, I’d probably still have been there when...whatever happened,” he said, between sneezes.  His wide shoulders were hunched despairingly, and even Harrington had a sympathetic grimace.  “Dunno if I’d have been much use, though.”  

“Did you see anyone as you left?” Billy asked, and Haglund thought, taking deep breaths between blowing his nose.  

“...nobody that stood out,” he said.  “Some neighbors, maybe.  Think I walked into somebody, once, my eyes were watering.”

 He hadn’t seen anybody going in, either, so after they let him leave, Billy spent a while scrolling through all the victim’s media accounts.  Harrington stayed doggedly on tracking down the dildo maker—Billy nearly felt sorry for him, except it was giving Billy such a good read on what to expect—and he was coming up with a continuous stream of weird sex toys to be in search of.  “I’m an author,” he told one.  “I want a dildo containing the pen I wrote my first book with.”  He jotted down another number, called it, sighed, and tried again.  “Uh, I want a dildo full of baby teeth—” he started, and then stopped, frowning at the phone.  “They hung up,” he said, sounding betrayed.  

“Wouldn’t you?!” Billy asked, smiling despite having to see comment after comment by the Westboro Baptist Church.  He found further reasons to hate them, but nothing specifically actionable, so he finally stretched and grabbed his jacket.  “I’m done for the day,” he called over the other empty desks.  

“Go ahead,” Harrington said, frowning at the screen.  “I won’t stay much longer.  How the hell hard can this be, really?”

 He was there before Billy the next morning, his jaw set, with dark shadows under his eyes.  Billy detoured to the coffee machine first, and plonked it down in front of him, and Harington rewarded him with widening eyes, and then a bewildered stare.  

“...thanks,” he said softly, then smirked up through a yawn.  “Heard back from the arson investigators, and guess what?  The fire looks accidental.”  He bounced a little in his chair, and Billy wondered whether he was really into murder mysteries, or whether he was just trying to stay awake.  “There was a pan on the stove, some kind of chocolate fondue, they think.  Just caught fire, and with Ishaq unconscious, nobody turned off the stove.”

“...lucky bastard,” Billy said, grimacing, and Harrington raised his eyebrows.  

“You think?  Oh, also, guess what—I found her.  Our dildo artist.  She’s not all that local, but she did send me a few pictures of the dildos she’s made for our guy.”  

“Had to track her down eventually,” Billy said, sipping his coffee, and then caught the way Harrington just bit his lips, his jaw tensing.

“Good job,” Billy told him, feeling a little...stupid, like he was praising a dog, but Harrington brightened, smirking up at him again.

Billy studied the printouts, as Harrington spun around on his chair, guzzling down coffee, and explaining his triumph.  “She says that photoshoot that had the Westboro Baptist Church up in arms?  Upcoming?  Get this,” he said, getting up to lean over Billy’s shoulder.  “—they’re pissed because our boy was staying at a hotel once with the new leader, Steven Drain.  He pretended to be maid service, snuck in, and took the guy’s wedding ring, and made it into a dildo.  He describes it as ‘surrounded by rainbow unicorn confetti and delicious queer flesh’.  Our victim stole his wedding ring,” Harrington cackled, beaming.  “I’m subscribing to his...everything.”

“Lemme see if any of these comments can be traced to Steven Drain,” Billy said, heading off to ask someone to do computer magic.  Steve hopped up and came with him, which was kinda weird, but it was nice to walk down a hall without people shoulder-slamming him like he wasn’t there.

  “Hate that he has my name,” Steve muttered, as they walked back.  “Drain’s got restraining orders for beating up and threatening two young teenagers his daughter talked to, it’s on the public record.  We could see what kinda injuries they had,” Harrington said.  “...imagine taking down the whole Westboro church.”

“Wouldn’t that be nice,” Billy laughed, dropping into his own chair as Harrington got more coffee, then called around and discovered the assailants had both been right-handed.

“Get this,” he said excitedly, “—Steven Drain is in town.  Gay soldier’s wedding, they’re planning to picket it and scream at his widower, you know, their whole thing, but he flew in the night before the assault.”

“We should talk to him,” Billy said, most of his brain on the photos of dildos and butt plugs.  

“Can’t we just drop a piano on him?” Steve muttered, and Billy snorted, flicking back through, and trying to figure out what was bugging him about the dildos.  There were lots of them, more than Billy’d seen in the victim’s room, and Billy stopped, squinting at his phone screen at one that looked like it was full of tiny antique coins.  “...wait,” he muttered.  “Where did you say she lived?  Dildo lady?”

“Upstate,” Harrington told him, blinking up at him, as he held his pen on the list of neighbors he’d called to ask whether they’d seen anyone that looked like Steven Drain.  

“I need to talk to Dildo Lady,” Billy announced, and Harrington blinked at him, then glanced at his screen and back to Billy, waiting.  “...we should go talk to her,” Billy amended, and Harrington grinned, grabbing his jacket.

“Should we talk to Drain first?” he asked, “—since he’s local?”

“Let’s wait and see the CSI reports,” Billy told him.  “We’ll be on a lot firmer ground if he clipped his nails after he clocked Ishaq Hill upside the head.”

“Hard to believe somebody that loud went down quietly,” Harrington said, nodding.  “There’ll probably be hair or something.  Even if he doesn’t wake up and tell us.  I called this morning—he’s out of danger, it sounds like,” he said, grimacing, and Billy nodded.

“Nice if we can tell him it’s all handled, though,” he said, and Harrington laughed.

“That’s a definite yep.”

 Billy led the way to the level where his car was parked, and then stopped. 

His car had dead rats on it.  He walked closer, and there was a scratch where somebody’d jimmied his window, and tossed more rats inside, and suddenly he longed for a drink.

“Shit,” Harrington said, putting an arm around his shoulders to steer him away, and whipping out his phone.  “Yeah, hey—”

“Stop,” Billy hissed, grabbing for it.  “You’ll just make it worse, don’t tell your fucking dad—”

“Wheeler,” Harrington said.  “Mmm, yeah, you know you said you had some CSI training to do?  I’ve got a, uh, little crime scene in the parking garage.  Could you get your most annoying rookie to come down and—yeah.  Yeah, blue Camaro, license plate PCE 235.”  He listened for a long second, and then thanked her again, tucking his phone away.  

“...shit,” Billy sighed, as Harrington manhandled him to a different car.  

To his relief, Harrington didn’t say anything sympathetic.  After a few minutes, driving at a snail’s pace through downtown traffic, he took a breath, and Billy’s hands twitched.  “Huh,” Harrington said, glancing down, and then biting his lips in a cartoonishly intent face.

“...jesus, just say whatever it is,” Billy told him, snorting a laugh, and sipping his coffee.

“Sorry your dad is a bastard asshole shithead,” Harrington said, wincing, and Billy choked again, coughing and spluttering coffee down his shirt, but he hadn’t been able to laugh about it before, ever, and it felt good, even if he tried to breathe coffee, and couldn’t stop coughing.  

When he could finally draw breath, he sighed contentedly, leaning his head against the window.  “...he is, isn’t he,” he said.

“He is, and so are most of the officers he came up from the academy with,” Steve said, clenching his hands on the steering wheel.  “My dad too.  He didn’t—ugh.”

“What?” Billy asked, curious, suddenly, about Steve Harrington, instead of just the commissioner’s son.  

“He didn’t want me to transfer,” Harrington muttered.  “He said Major Crimes doesn’t need the dead weight.  Hopper had to kinda go out on a limb.  I fuck up and I’m kicked all the way down to traffic, I think.”

The thought that the commissioner had stepped in to help Billy, Detective Neil Hargrove’s son, had gotten Billy through some long nights in rehab.  He drew a long breath, realizing he was even more alone than he’d thought.  “...shit,” he said softly.  His eyes stung.

“It’s fine,” Harrington said.  “Hopper’s got your back.  There are enough of us.  I’ll lean on Hagen some, I think I can talk him around.  It’s good you turned your dad in.  You did a good thing, and everybody shit on you for it,” he growled, glancing over.  “I’ve got your back.  Jesus, man, don’t cry.”

“It’s the pollen,” Billy said thickly.

“Yeah, sure.”

“I have hayfever,” Billy hissed at him, rubbing his face.

 The Dildo Lady looked about sixty, Pakistani probably, and wore a hijab.  Her name was Faiza Khalol, and she was delighted to tell them about her work.  

“Do you have any better pictures of these?” Billy asked her, showing her the one with the coins in it.  “Or could you describe them?”

She could, as it turned out—and even better, when she’d asked about them, Hill had given her one, and she handed Billy a tiny silver coin which, after some googling, he thought might be an Athenian drachma.

“Oh,” she whispered, her brows drawing together.  “Um, is it valuable?”

“I have no idea,” Billy told her, but flicked to another picture.  “But these are, I think.”  The clear butt-plug was full of greyish crystals, with a huge one where it would show.  

“I didn’t see these in his dresser,” Harrington said, leaning in warmly against him, and Billy annoyed himself by shivering.

“No.  These are uncut diamonds, I think.”  Faiza and Harrington gasped satisfyingly, and Billy grinned.  “Ishaq Hill stole more than a wedding ring, I think.  We’ve had the wrong motive.”

“Braxton Haglund guarded diamond mines,” Harrington breathed.  “He’d probably recognize them.  Did Ishaq post pictures with these?”

“He always put up pictures of my latest work,” Faiza said, covering her mouth in horror.  “Do you think…”

“I think we better talk to Braxton Haglund again,” Billy said, reveling in Harrington’s impressed grin. 

 “You’ve got duthing on be,” Haglund gasped, blowing his nose miserably.  “You gan’t brove I saw ‘s pictures.  You gan’t brove anything.”

Billy tried to parse that for a long second, and then, for Harrington, who looked bewildered, said, “Oh, that’s not all we have.  Have you wondered,” he said, turning to his partner, who grinned back, “—how anyone could come in to Ishaq Hill’s apartment, clonk him from behind with a dick sculpture, then search his apartment, and not notice he’d left chocolate heating on the stove?  Chocolate burns fast,” he said, raising his eyebrows at Haglund.  “How did you not notice the smell?”

“His hayfever,” Harrington breathed, his eyes widening at Billy as his cheeks flushed, and Haglund slammed his fist on the table, opened his mouth to yell, and then stopped to blow his nose, and sneeze.

“Also while you were waiting,” Billy told Haglind with satisfaction, “—we searched your apartment.  The warrant judge was convinced by our diamond-and-hayfever argument, and guess what we found?” 

Haglund’s eyes widened in horror, and his back thudded against his chair as Billy shot Harrington a grin, and Harrington smirked back.  “Good job framing a hate group for the crime,” Billy said, his grin widening, “—but why were Ishaq Hill’s dildos on the table in your front room?”

The other Harringrove April prompts I’ve done

[themurphyzone]

PatB Nova Ch 8

Ch 8: Radiant

It’s been a long time since I updated this fic. Thanks for your patience!

FFN Link, AO3 Link

Brain scrambled off Pinky as soon as he was able to move. Though part of Pinky wished the moment had lasted longer, he was happy that his best friend was okay after that mean ol’ Mr. Lamont squished him.

Brushing off the dust from his favorite pair of denim shorts, Pinky hopped to his feet like a piece of fresh popcorn. Next to him, Brain wiped the lens of his sunglasses on the inside of his shirt and slipped them over his eyes. He ran his fingers over his antennae to get the kinks out.

“Are your hands okay?” Pinky asked, grabbing Brain’s hands to make sure there was no bleeding or bruising or barbecuing. “Your elbows? Kidneys? Crookedy tail?”

“I’m fine. In case your addled mind can’t tell, no extremities are out of place and my internal organs have remained internal,” Brain grumbled. He turned his attention to the frightened worker, who was scrambling to pick up the scattered items Mr. Lamont had rudely thrown to the floor. “As for you, your inaction almost cost me my guide! Have you no shame?”

The worker, whose name was Conner according to the spiffy name tag on his chest, glared at Brain and angrily threw a baseball cap into the box. “And risk my job here? No thank you! What were you thinking, talking to Mr. Lamont like that? You trying to get us all in trouble?”

Brain scowled and folded his arms. “I will speak to Mr. Lamont however I desire. He’s hardly different from any other inhabitant.”

“If you want his lawyers ripping every cent out of your body, that’s on you,” Conner snorted. He stood up and nudged the box behind the podium with his foot. “But leave the rest of us out of it. Just what rock have you been living under if you’ve never heard of him anyway?”

Brain’s fur started to bristle, and Pinky nudged him aside. “Sorry about my friend,” he said to the worker. “He’s new here. Poit! They don’t even have blueberry bagels where he’s from, you know.”

“Yes, truly scandalous,” Brain scoffed. Though Pinky figured he really did wish he’d been introduced to the joys of bagels sooner.

For a moment, Conner was silent, but he accepted the explanation with a sigh. “Well, guess I can cut you some slack then,” he muttered. Brain tapped his foot impatiently, and Conner plopped into his chair behind the podium. “You just backtalked the guy who owns a good chunk of the city, including the mall. Displease him in any way and he goes complaining to the boss, then it’s a reprimand or a firing, and nobody here can afford that.”

Come to think of it, he might’ve seen Mr. Lamont’s face on the local news while channel surfing, but it could’ve easily been a large dust bunny or a mustard stain as well. He wasn’t sure which.

Oh well.

Then Pinky noticed a glint of light on Conner’s right hand. Conner ran his hand down his face, revealing a simple silvery band on his ring finger.

“I like your ring!” Pinky exclaimed. “Very pretty!”

Conner smiled sheepishly, a light blush over his cheeks. “Heh, thanks. Got married a month ago. Not really on the expensive side, but-”

“-but I bet you love each other very much!” Pinky said, giving Brain a nudge. “What do you think, Brain? Isn’t it just lovely?”

“Very,” Brain grunted, slapping Pinky’s hand off his shoulder.

Very extremely completely romantic indeed! Exchanging vows, slipping the rings on, the kissing and the cheering and the I do’s! Mounds of flowers and lots of food and dancing! And he couldn’t forget the bouquet toss! How could he forget the bouquet toss?

A sharp tug of his wrist brought him back to reality.

“This has been most enlightening,” Brain said, turning his back on Conner. “However, you have your objectives and we have ours. We’ll be on our way. Come, Pinky.”

As Brain led him back to the crowded parts of the mall, Pinky turned and waved to Conner. “Bye!” he called. “Have a nice day!”

Conner waved back, then he looked down and rifled through a stack of paper on the podium. “Hold on a sec!” he shouted, snatching up two small papers and running towards them. He had a much longer stride than them, so it only took seconds to catch up before they could rejoin the main walkway.

Pinky stopped in his tracks. Brain’s grumpy stomps came to a halt, but he wasn’t happy about the delay. His fingers tensed around Pinky’s wrist.

“I was saving these promotional coupons for some other time, but I figured I owed you for the trouble,” Conner explained, handing the coupons to Pinky. “Besides, it’s Free Burger Day. Might as well get the full American experience with your friend there.”

Reading through the info on both coupons, Pinky practically felt his eyeballs pop out of their sockets Looney Tunes style. Free cheeseburgers with a side of French fries? His tummy rumbled with hunger, and oh, where were his manners?

“Thanks so much!” Pinky exclaimed, hooking his arm around Brain’s, who made a surprised noise as he tried to read the coupons himself. He didn’t have the same excited reaction though. “Bye, Conner!”

With the coupons and Brain in hand, Pinky took off, darting around people’s feet, shopping bags, and the occasional stroller.  

Brain never had fast food before either! Sure, it could be unhealthy, but it was so delicious all the same! Besides, the wheel would help get rid of all the bad cholesterol anyway.

“Wait ‘til you see the food court, Brain! They’ve got all sorts of things there! I wish you could try them all, but we need money for that and Conner was so very nice to give us coupons for free burgers!” Pinky shouted above all the noise. “Oh, watch out for that gumball machine!”

“What?” Brain yelled back. He was looking down, short legs trying to match Pinky’s speed, and not watching where he was going. He slammed into the base of a gumball machine, wobbling back and forth as if he was following the movement of the pretty swirling stars that appeared whenever one was dizzy. Mumbling something in Selenian, he nearly wobbled into the path of a kid’s sneaker.

Pinky tucked the coupons under one arm and dragged Brain away before he was accidentally squashed again.

“Sorry, Brain,” Pinky said once Brain shook enough of the dizziness away to level a glare at him. Even with the sunglasses’ dark tint, Pinky felt those pink eyes boring into him. “I’ll slow down a bit?”

“See that you do,” Brain replied, shoving his hands into his denim pockets. “And no more hand-holding. As one of the future rulers of this world, I refuse to allow the public to see me being carted around like a dead weight.”

“How can a weight be dead if it wasn’t alive to begin with?” Pinky asked.

Brain shrugged. “I don’t know, Pinky. You seem to lug the one inside your head around just fine.”

Pinky rocked back and forth on his heels, preening at the praise. Oh, it was so nice for Brain to take notice of all the weightlifting he did with his batteries!

Brain didn’t comment, gaze fixed on a nearby giant map of the mall. Pinky couldn’t help but wonder what color Brain liked most on the map. He liked the light blue himself, and the green and pink and yellow too. He couldn’t leave out any of the colors. They were all so pretty.

“We’ll have to figure out a different way to obtain money. Not to mention contacting Snowball,” Brain said. “I hope you have ideas, Pinky. Though I reserve the right to take that statement back any time.”

Pinky held up the coupons. In truth, he really couldn’t think about anything but lunch. His stomach growled at the very thought of yummy burgers and fries!

“Food court?” he said hopefully. “This is your first time at a mall, Brain. What mall visit is complete without eating at the food court?”

Brain rubbed his temples, ears falling slightly in annoyance. “If we go, will you stop thinking with your stomach?”

“Nope!” Pinky said proudly. How could he possibly turn down a free burger? “ C’mon, food court’s on the second floor! Last one there’s a purple pickled egg!”

o-o-o-o-o

They took the elevator up, since it was much safer than the escalator and they wouldn’t have to scramble up a flight of stairs. Besides, the elevator was next to a pretty wishing fountain. The water was a beautiful light blue, a stone dolphin spewing water several feet into the air so that anyone nearby was showered with a fine mist.

The mice tucked themselves into a back corner, where the large glass window provided a clear view of people tossing their pennies into the fountain. They kept their tails close so that a stroller’s back wheels didn’t run them over in the tight space.

A young girl tossed a penny into a high arc, and it splashed down near the dolphin centerpiece.

“Narf! What a throw! Whatever she wishes for, it’s gonna come true for sure!” Pinky exclaimed as the elevator started to move. The family they shared the elevator with chatted among themselves, the adults facing forward while the boy lifted the cover of the stroller and made funny faces to the baby inside.

They seemed happy.

Like Mom and Papa when they chased each other around the cage. He hadn’t heard from Sis in a while either. He really oughta write back sometime.

“Pinky,” Brain said, cutting into his thoughts. He seemed uncomfortable, though Pinky wasn’t sure why. Maybe Brain just wasn’t used to elevators. “I don’t see how tossing something into a body of water can result in a wish coming true.”

“It can if you wish all your heart,” Pinky said. “That’s how you go to Dragon Land.”

“Satellite scans have revealed no such country named Dragon Land on this planet.” Brain looked away as the elevator came to a stop. The doors opened, and the humans piled out first. He and Brain followed, and the empty space behind them was quickly filled with other mallgoers. “Assuming we’re at our destination, it’s probably best for you to think with your stomach for a while.”

The scents of delicious food filled the air, and the scent trail of an extra cheesy pizza slice was especially strong. Pinky inhaled deeply, his stomach grumbling just like Brain.

“But you said-“

Brain watched somebody throw away a styrofoam container. “Only until we’re finished with the food court. Anyway, you’ve…um, well you’ve got a leak on your face.”

“Oh, not sure how that happened. I don’t remember eating leeks. Poit,” Pinky said, wiping away the leeks with the back of his hand. The skin was a little damp when he looked again.

Oh. Not leeks then. They were tears.

Thinking about his family usually did that to him.  

Just say narf.

He took a deep breath.

“We should procure ourselves a place to sit,” Brain suggested. He didn’t seem too keen on the lunch crowd. “Preferably a secluded area away from all this noise pollution.”

“Narf! I think there’s a few tables over there.” Pinky pointed to a chair that stuck out from behind a sub sandwich shop.

Surely enough, the tables were unoccupied when they went over to investigate.

A brief smile flitted across Brain’s face as he climbed onto the table. “Good work, Pinky,” he said as he sat down, feet swinging over the edge. “With my current observations, you have to exchange those coupons for our meals, correct?”

Pinky nodded.

“In that case, you grab our food and I’ll remain here.”

“It’s gonna take a little time, Brain,” Pinky admitted. The line for the burger place was at least ten people. Or one hundred. It was hard to tell from this distance. “You sure you don’t wanna stand in line with me?”

“I’ve been trampled once and had many near-misses today.” Brain crossed his arms. “I’m long overdue for some peace so I may ponder quietly to myself.”

The coupons crinkled slightly in Pinky’s hands. Brain couldn’t move with squished antennae, and his accidental crash into the gumball machine probably didn’t do him any favors. And of course there was the crash landing from just a few days ago.

Being alone again was…well, after meeting Brain he just couldn’t imagine it anymore. Pharfignewton was lovely and kind and fast, but she couldn’t live in the lab and he couldn’t live in the stables.

“If you say so.” Pinky turned to leave, then looked over his shoulder at Brain, who was lying on his back with his sunglasses still in position. He didn’t think they’d be very comfortable though. “Brain?”

“What?” Brain snapped.

“You’ll…you’ll still be here when I get back, right?” Pinky asked.

“I already told you, Pinky. I’m staying put. Now kindly allow me time to plan our next move.”

Pinky’s tail perked, and with a little more confidence and a skip in his step, he joined the burger line. Though the line was long, he didn’t mind. The long wait would just make the burgers tastier. He could already taste the melted cheese and sweet tomatoes.  

o-o-o-o-o

Ten minutes later, Pinky was only halfway to the counter. He tried to make small talk with the woman behind him, but she was too busy playing Candy Crush on her phone to hold a conversation. Then he tried to talk to the guy in front of him, but he had a headset on, the volume loud enough for everyone in earshot.

While Pinky wasn’t familiar with the punk rock scene, he thought the beat was pretty good, and his foot tapped along to the music.  

Another five minutes passed. Pinky was fifth in line, a gap between him and Headset Guy open so people could pass through easily.

He was close enough to the counter that he could easily hear the cashier explaining to a customer that one of the grills had gone out and they could only cook so much at a time. Was that all? Pinky didn’t see why she had to apologize for something she couldn’t help.

Pinky hummed quietly, lost in the music, occasionally glancing at the area where Brain said he’d be. Though he’d hoped Brain would keep him company in line, he knew Brain needed his rest too. It would do wonders for his dark bags and stress lines.

A high-pitched thwap-thwap-thwap made his ear flick. At first, he thought it was just an odd beat in Headset Guy’s music, but he turned it down so he could place his order. The noise continued, even when Pinky batted his ear like he was trying to clear water from his head. Something tiny and dark flitted around in the corner of his vision. Pinky looked up.

Next to the burger shop’s sign, a small black camera hovered with spinny propellors. It looked a lot like the camera that had bopped him in the head when he first met Brain. Maybe it was the same brand?

It had a silver ‘NS’ emblazoned on its side. Pinky couldn’t think of any logo that used NS.  

Oh, what if it was taking pictures? He wanted to look his best! Quickly, he adjusted the hem of his lavender blouse and posed like a supermodel walking down the red carpet. His blouse was a lovely piece of clothing after all.

The lens focused once, twice, then quickly zoomed towards the high ceiling and out of sight.

Maybe he should’ve worn a matching necklace.

“Next,” the cashier said as Headset Guy picked up his order and walked away.

His turn now! Pinky rolled up the coupons and tucked them under his arm, then climbed up a pole and onto the counter surface.

“Two burgers and fries please,” Pinky said to the cashier, whose smile didn’t reach her eyes. He slid the coupons over, and she tossed them onto a pile from previous customers. “And two waters as well. Oh, could I get those both in the kiddie cups? I really like the colors on those.”

The kiddie cups were a lovely shade of sunshine yellow with happy kiddos on them. He thought they looked nice.  

The cashier moved away without a word, mechanically filling up two colorful cups with ice and water and covering them with bright red lids. She left them by the water machine and went into the back, coming out with an almost bursting paper bag. Then she loaded it onto a paper-lined tray and pushed it towards Pinky, tossing two straws, a few ketchup packets, and a set of brown napkins onto the tray.

“Enjoy,” she mumbled.  

“Thanks!” Pinky grinned. “Oh, the waters are by the machine thingy. Troz!”

The cashier marched over to the cups, snatching them up and slamming them onto the tray with a loud bang that Pinky nearly fell off the counter in surprise. “Sorry…” she whispered, eyes downcast to the floor.

“It happens! Don’t worry. Thanks for your help!” Pinky said, but his reassurance didn’t seem to mean anything to her. She just stood there, ignoring the line’s shouts to get a move on. The woman behind Pinky didn’t seem to notice anything, her thumbs tapping away on her phone.

Pinky dragged the tray to the edge, only to run into a new problem. If he pushed the tray off, he would spill everything. And he didn’t want to drag the tray to the table either. That was just unsanitary.

“Oh…um…could you help me with the tray please?” Pinky asked. The cashier didn’t seem to notice. Pinky rubbed his neck, scuffing his foot against a taped down paper menu on the counter. “Sorry. Poit.”

Maybe one of the other mallgoers would help out? Pinky called for help to the people behind him, but nobody wanted to give up their place in line or just hadn’t heard him at all.

“Kelsey! What’s going on out there?” Another worker stomped up to the front, but when Kelsey didn’t reply, her stormy expression was quickly replaced with concern. She was an older woman with hair in a tight bun, and she struck Pinky as someone that shouldn’t be messed with. “Oh. You need a moment?”

Kelsey shook her head, staring vacantly at the wall. “Just one of those days, Paula. I’ll be fine.”  

She was definitely not okay though.

“You can take a moment if you want to. I don’t mind,” Pinky chimed in.

“What the little guy said,” Paula agreed, then shot Pinky a curious glance. “Ya need tray help? Seems a bit heavy for ya.”

Pinky nodded, stepping onto the paper-lined tray. “If you don’t mind.”

“Alright,” Paula clapped her hands, then picked up the tray and put it into Kelsey’s hands. “Kelsey, help this little guy out, then freshen up in the restroom.”

“What?” Kelsey yelped, her eyes widening to an almost comical degree. “Are you crazy? If Derek finds out-“

Paula shrugged. “Derek’s too busy cozying up to the rich jerk to ‘manage’ right now. And if he does turn up, I’ll cover ya.”

With that, she shoved Kelsey out of the workers’ area and took over her place as cashier, handling orders with ruthless efficiency.

“Narrrrf, she’s amazing,” Pinky said in awe.

“Better manager than Derek. Even without it being official,” Kelsey sighed in resignation. “Which way?”

Pinky pointed straight ahead. “Behind the sub shop. This is the first time my friend’s ever eaten a burger. I bet he’s just gonna love these!”

Kelsey didn’t press for details. She just walked ahead, balancing the tray in her hand and trying to not bump into people.

They found Brain curled up on the table, Pinky’s tail wagging on the cute little sight. Brain’s chest rose and fell, but even when Kelsey set the tray down, he didn’t respond.

Pinky was about to scold him for being rude, then he heard a high-pitched whistling sound.

He giggled. Brain was asleep and snoring again.

Though he really needed to learn not to sleep with sunglasses on. His fur would get all smushed.  

“Hey…sorry I snapped at you. And thanks.” Kelsey’s eyes were watery, and she dabbed at them with the back of her hand, trying to smile anyway.

“It’s okay!” Pinky said. “Thanks for the help. Now get yourself cleaned up and treat yourself to something nice later!”

Kelsey gave him a thumbs up and walked away.

Pinky waved goodbye until she was gone, then hopped out of the tray and gently shook Brain’s shoulders.

“Wakey, wakey, eggs and bakey!” Pinky sang. “Before all the good eggs are gone and we’re just left with a pile of mush, Brain!”

Brain muttered something that could’ve been either ‘go away, Pinky’ or ‘lo mein, Binky’. Lo mein was definitely going on the list of foods Brain had to try. Really, how could Pinky have forgotten Chinese food of all things? It was so obvious now that he thought about it!

Instead of waking up, Brain rolled over and scratched his side.

Pinky put his hands on his hips. He needed to take more drastic measures.  

Crouching on all fours, Pinky slowly crept up to Brain, approaching him from the front to avoid being zapped by the tail orb.

Closer…just a little closer…perfect. Brain was completely unaware.

Pinky tensed his muscles, and on the count of one, two, and narf, he pounced.

“SCRIK!” Brain swore as Pinky’s hands landed on his chest. With a startled gasp, he sat up quickly, the sunglasses pushed up to his large forehead. The sudden motion made Pinky lose his balance, his head landing in Brain’s lap.

“Afternoon, Sleeping Beauty!” Pinky grinned up at his best friend.

Brain’s cheeks reddened. He pushed Pinky off, quickly hiding his eyes behind his sunglasses. He folded his arms grumpily. “I wasn’t sleeping. I was sleep-pondering. There’s a difference.”

“What’s the difference?” Pinky asked. He hopped to his feet and skipped over to the tray.

“It’s too…complicated for your feeble mind to comprehend, I’m afraid,” Brain replied. He didn’t look Pinky in the eye, focusing on the tiny print on a ketchup packet instead. “Yes. Very complicated.”

“Mmm-hmm,” Pinky nodded. He tipped the bag onto its side, dragging the burgers out by their wrappers. “You don’t know what the difference is either, do you?”  

Caught in his little fib, Brain went silent.

He ignored Pinky and unfolded one of the burger wrappers, tearing off a small piece of the bun and sampling it. Then he shrugged. Not bad, but not spectacular either. But it was the inside part of the burger that really counted.

Pinky brought out both cartons of French fries, popping a small one into his mouth. Crunchy and salty, just how fries were supposed to be.

Since the cups were bigger than both of them, Brain unwrapped the straws and punctured the lids with one end while Pinky tilted and held them in place.

Their little dining setup was complete. Though they didn’t have any scented candles, Pinky pretended there was a vanilla-scented one next to the tray, its sweet fragrance wafting in the air.

Licking his lips, Pinky unwrapped his burger and took a large chomp out of it. The taste of cheese, beef, and tomatoes flooded his mouth. “Narrrrf,” he hummed in delight, wiping away a spot of mustard on his chin. “How’s yours, Brain?”

Brain had only eaten part of the top bun so far. Instead, he pulled the contents out one at a time and took small, cautious bites. He didn’t seem to mind the mustard, and most of the ingredients he seemed to like just fine. He was indifferent to the lettuce.

Then he got his first taste of a pickle, and his antennae orbs sparked violently. Pinky laughed at the comically fast speed Brain spat out a pile of green mush. He snatched up a napkin and wiped his tongue on it, sounding very much like a cat hacking up a hairball.

“Drink some water. It’ll get rid of it faster than the napkin. And also cause you’re just gonna wind up eating whatever napkins are made out of. Trust me. You don’t want that,” Pinky suggested.

Brain took his advice, making loud slurping noises with his straw, then finally calmed down.

“Cease your laughter, Pinky,” Brain grumbled as he removed the rest of the pickles from his burger and threw them in Pinky’s direction. They landed next to Pinky’s fries. “And take these disgusting so-called edibles off my hands.”

“Will do!” Pinky tossed two pickles into his mouth. “Hey, so what’s the grossest food they had on New Selene? There’s gotta be something too icky for us poor little Earthlings to understand!”

Brain hesitated. “Perhaps I shouldn’t say. I’d hate to spoil your abnormally large appetite.”

“Never in a million billion eight hundred trozillion years!” Pinky gasped, putting a hand over his heart. He’d always wanted to do that! It was so much fun being dramatically offended.

“If you insist. But I warned you, so don’t try to claim otherwise,” Brain said.  

Pinky tore open a ketchup packet and squirted it onto the burger wrapper, then motioned for Brain to continue. Brain slid his ketchup packets over to Pinky. There were a lot of things that went on French fries, but Brain seemed to like them plain.

“Cuisine on the colony was made to be sustainable for long periods of time. Because survival was more valued, flavors and variability were often lacking. I would describe food on New Selene as more bland than outright disgusting,” Brain explained. “But to humor your question, there’s an aquatic species called dholmuth from the imperial planet which can be caught and used for food. However, it’s only attempted by the foolish or the desperate. No sane being wants to deal with a delicacy that smells like the unholy combination of fuel exhaust and rotting corpses.”

Pinky wrinkled his nose.

Brain shrugged. “I warned you.”

“Alrighty, so what’s the most delicious, positively scrumptious thing you ever ate in space?” Pinky asked.

“Rusuphri,” Brain said without hesitation. “They were in the bag you found with me.”

He looked away, the half-eaten French fry in his hand wilting along with his posture.

Pinky snapped his fingers in recognition. “Right! The blue star candies! They were very sweet. I get why you like them so much!”  

“Actually, they’re seeds, not candy, though I understand how…wait, how do you know they taste sweet?” Brain asked suspiciously. “Did you eat any from the bag?”

There was a dangerous edge in his voice.

“I…well, I ate a few that got scattered around the ship before I found you. It was a bit of a mess, really. But I never touched the bag. Honest!” Pinky held up his hands. “I’m sorry if they were important to you.”

Should he have not done that? There were so many, and they seemed so tasty. And the walk back from seeing Pharfignewton off had left him a little peckish, so he’d given into his hunger. Biting his lip, Pinky waited for the scolding that was sure to come.

Brain pushed his burger away.

It was only half-eaten.

“…Snowball found those rusuphri bags just before our departure from New Selene,” Brain said quietly. “I was going to split the remaining one with him upon our reunion. My apologies for accusing you.”

“You’re excused,” Pinky said, sighing in relief. He wasn’t going to lose his best friend over his own stupid actions. He was just grateful for that.

Pinky finished off his burger, licking the last bits of mustard off his fingers. He started on his remaining fries while Brain cleaned his hands with a napkin.

“Brain, aren’t you gonna eat the rest?” Pinky asked. “I didn’t make your tummy upset with me too, right?”

“Enough with your ridiculous notions, Pinky.” Brain shook his head, reclining against the tray’s raised edge. One hand rested across his pudgy stomach, rubbing a soothing circle into it. “I can’t eat anymore. That’s all. There was simply too much for just one sitting.”

Pinky made a loud slurping noise with his straw as he sipped his drink. “Zort! Really? This was just a small burger! Good thing they weren’t putting the largest ones on the coupon, huh?”

“Small?” Brain’s brow lifted in disbelief. “How does one categorize this meal as small?”  

Pinky pointed to a man eating a burger that was triple the size of what they had. “Ooh, so that’s the triple bacon cheeseburger,” Pinky said. It had been advertised on TV a lot as a new addition to the menu. “Looks tasty.”

Brain’s mouth flopped open, like he’d never seen food that large in his life. “Your portion sizes are messed up.”

“Thanks. It’s an American staple. Just like burgers!” Pinky exclaimed. “If you’re not gonna eat the rest, can I have it?”

Brain made no motion to stop him, so Pinky figured it was okay to take the rest. He squirted ketchup onto the bun of the half-eaten burger and dug in.

“Should I be concerned over the state of your stomach later?” Brain asked.

“Don’t worry, Brain! I can handle it easy-peasy!” he tried to say, but it came out very muffled and with bits of tomato juice spraying from the side of his mouth.

“Clearly, your stomach is not your only vital organ that bears worrying about.”

o-o-o-o-o

Once they recovered from full stomachs, they went back to finding a hat for a snowball—no wait, that wasn’t right—finding a hat for himself and Snowball for Brain. But first, they had to stop in the play area!

It was filled with plastic structures of rocks, boats, fish, and water. There was even a lighthouse and a beach! All right here in the local mall! And of course there were the screaming, playful toddlers and parents who just seemed plain bored and weren’t paying any attention to their charges.

“La-la-la-la! Don’t you wanna play too, Brain? Look, I’m king of the world! Narf!” Pinky stood atop the highest point of a plastic blue tugboat, spreading his arms wide and leaning forward. He could just feel the wind and seaspray in his face!

“Pinky, you’re posing on a child’s imitation of aquatic transport.” Brain seemed just as zoned out as the human adults around him. “And don’t mock my rightful title with your childish playtime.”

“I’m not mocking, Brain,” Pinky said. “King of the world’s just the name of this pose!”

That seemed to get Brain’s attention. He slid off the bench, barely dodging a blonde-haired toddler who seemed intent on escaping the play area altogether.

“Is that a common pose for Terran royalty?” Brain asked. He climbed up the side of the tugboat, slipping a little as he tried to grasp its smooth surface. Pinky hopped down from his perch next to the little red steam whistle and offered his hand to Brain.

After a moment’s hesitation, he took it and Pinky hauled him up.

“Not really, but it’s pretty fun to do!” Pinky said.

Brain stood at Pinky’s former place by the plastic steam whistle, and Pinky balanced in the narrow space behind him.

“It’s protocol to stand in the highest position so that one may assert superiority over the population,” Brain declared.

“Oh, that’s very good, Brain!” Pinky exclaimed. At his praise, Brain’s antennae perked. “Now spread your arms out wide like you’re giving the air a great big hug!”

Slowly, Brain spread his arms out. “And what purpose does this serve?”

“To make you look more royal of course!” Pinky said. “Though you’re more off-white in this lighting than royal blue.”

The corner of Brain’s mouth quirked up. Yes, now he saw the appeal too!

“Behold, I am the Brain! One of the future mighty kings of this world!” the shorter mouse announced, arms held triumphantly out to his sides. Below them, the children paid no mind and continued playing. The adults didn’t care either.

Well, if they didn’t know how awesome his friend was, then he’d just have to show them!

Far beyond the skylight, a cloud moved away from the sun, a beam of light shining down just in front of them. It was perfect timing!

Pinky lifted a startled Brain beneath his outstretched arms, hoisting him as high as he could.  

“IT’S THE CIRRRRRRRCLE OF LIFE!” Pinky belted out.

“UNHAND ME AT ONCE, PINKY!” Brain screamed, his feet kicking out in little circles. He suddenly lunged to the right, and he and Pinky tumbled off the tugboat.

They collided painfully with the ground. Shaking the tingly feeling away from his lower jaw, Pinky cleared the swirling stars from his vision. Brain had landed a few inches away, face-first. He groaned as he lifted his head, the left lens of his sunglasses popping out.

“This pain will surely linger,” Brain muttered. He took off the ruined sunglasses and set it aside, where it was immediately snatched up a young boy, who ran off cackling with the broken frame on the bridge of his nose. “You’ve had your fun, Pinky. It’s time we got back to-“

A faraway melody made Pinky’s ears twitch. It wasn’t coming from the play area. Then a woman started to sing about breaking up with her boyfriend, though Pinky couldn’t place the specific song. There were a lot of boyfriend and breakup songs out there.

“-and we haven’t been to the third floor yet. Perhaps there will be something of value—where’s that horrible racket coming from?” Brain scowled as the woman hit a high note that was far beyond her voice range.

But she sounded like she was having fun, and that was the most important element in karaoke!

“That’s no tennis racket, Brain! That’s karaoke!” Unable to contain himself, Pinky tucked Brain under his arm and shot off like a rocket, following the trail of music to its source, which turned out to be an electronics store.

Upon seeing all the technology behind glass, Brain’s pink eyes widened to the size of dinner plates, and his demands to be released stopped instantly.

“I can’t believe you have all these devices lying around like this…” he murmured. “It pales in comparison to Selenian tech of course, but this is much more advanced than what I was expecting.”  

As much as Pinky loved playing with the apps, they were here for another reason entirely. Namely, the TV screen displaying a karaoke program just a short distance away from the entrance.

The woman who’d been singing earlier set the microphone on its stand and walked away, leaving the area up for grabs. Pinky set Brain down, and he darted away, climbing up a display table. His face scrunched up in pondering mode as he examined a smartphone much larger than he was.

Scrambling up to the microphone, Pinky spotted an open songbook nearby with a ginormous list of songs from just about every decade. Egad, there were a lot of options! How could he choose just one?

Instead of flipping through every page, Pinky closed his eyes and shut the songbook. Then he opened it to a random page, and placed his finger on a spot without peeking.

There. He’d sing whatever song this was.

He opened his eyes.

“AHHHHHH! BRAIN, I GOT A GOOD ONE!” Pinky screamed. Brain’s ears flicked in irritation, but Pinky paid no mind and inputted the matching number onto the microphone buttons. Since the mike was too big for him to hold, he swiveled it down to his level.

Best part was that his hands were free for dancing!

He hit the start button, his hips and tail swaying along to the catchy opening riff.

Ooh, see that girl! Watch that scene!

Diggin’ the dancing queen!

Pinky’s foot tapped in rhythm, and he lost himself to the melody.

He was at prom, and his all his friends were cheering him as he made his debut on the dance floor. Low lighting, a shining disco ball spinning above and creating a swirl of light circles around the venue. Everyone in handsome tuxedos and gorgeous dresses, some dancing, some eating at the buffet, and some were wallflowers shyly seeking out a dance.

He wore a beautiful floor-length pink dress, the skirt sweeping around with every graceful movement he made. A silver necklace rested just above the V-neck, a white corsage around his left wrist. And he felt absolutely beautiful.

He danced, and everyone was mesmerized. Everyone wanted to dance alongside him, and he turned no request down, because prom night was meant to be fun and he wanted to make everyone happy!

There was one wallflower who didn’t join in though. Nobody asked him to dance, and he made no invitations either. Just standing there with his arms folded against his chest. But his tuxedo was nicely pressed, a corsage pinned to his chest.

Pinky wanted to make this night magical for him too.

So he invited Brain to dance.

Brain stared at Pinky’s inviting hand. He blushed, slowly placing his hand in Pinky’s.

And dance they did. They commanded all the attention.

Pinky’s graceful movements contrasted with Brain’s sharper ones. The spotlight was on them. Their audience was captivated.

They were called to the stage. And they were crowned king and queen of the dance.

Brain gave him a genuine smile, and together they danced in celebration.

o-o-o-o-o  

He finished the song to raucous applause. When Pinky opened his eyes, he was surrounded by a crowd of people on all sides. They cheered loudly and started calling for song requests. One man took off his blue baseball cap and set it upside down next to Pinky, and the audience tossed in dollar bills and quarters.

“Egad, a hat for me?” Pinky wiped a happy tear away, flicking his hand down bashfully. “You shouldn’t have! But as my thanks for being such a lovely group, how ‘bout some song requests?”

Over the next fifteen minutes, he performed Footloose, Don’t Stop Believin’, and Accidentally in Love.

He’d drawn Brain’s attention by the end of the third song. With some difficulty, he squeezed through the packed audience and climbed up the stand where Pinky stood.

Oh, maybe they could duet together! That would just be lovely! Pinky flipped through the songbook for any duets, but Brain grabbed his snout and yanked him down before he could decide.  

“Pinky, this isn’t getting us any closer to our goal!” Brain snapped. “We can’t laze about here all afternoon!”

Pinky giggled as his nose pressed against Brain’s face. Brain reeled back in surprise, his antennae sparking when he realized how close they were.

“Narf! I’ve got my hat, Brain. I’m just singing as thanks to everyone!” Pinky said. “So I achieved my goal exactly as you said. And now I finally have a hat so I can properly root for Pharfignetwon!”

“So you did, Pinky,” Brain sighed. “A most unorthodox way of accomplishing your objective, but at least this will put you a step closer to striving towards something much larger. Now we just have to find a way to contact Snowball. Fortunately, this store may have parts that will enable me to create a tracker. The money you’ve earned should be sufficient enough.”

He gestured to the cap, which was now overflowing with cash.

“But I can have the cap?” Pinky asked.

Brain nodded. “Yes, Pinky. You may have the cap. Now, we must take our leave.”

He grabbed the cap by its brim, dragging it to the edge of the table before Pinky stopped him. “Hold on a sec, Brain,” Pinky said, tugging the cap back before Brain could push it off the edge. “Since you’re here, you wanna sing a duet with me? Please? Then we can go find Snowball together!”

Brain’s fingers tightened around the brim. “I don’t sing, Pinky. There was…no need for it on the colony. It served little importance to scientific endeavors. Besides, we came to conquer, not pursue singing careers.”

There was a tinge of…bitterness? No, not bitterness. More like embarrassment.

“Brain? Do you like music?” Pinky asked.

Brain let go of the brim and stared out into the crowd, who waited impatiently for Pinky to begin a new song. Then Brain looked down, his cheeks flushed, and he gave the tiniest of nods.

“I’m not a singer though,” Brain muttered.

“You don’t have to be to just sing,” Pinky said. “You can let loose!”

Brain shook his head. “There’s an audience here, Pinky. I’m not doing it.”

Pinky went to the songbook and flipped the pages until he found the duet he was looking for. He still really wanted to do one, but he didn’t want to make his best friend uncomfortable either. “Well, I still really wanna pick a duet, but you don’t have to sing. Just feel free to join in if you want.”

“I won’t,” Brain said stubbornly. He sat down with his back against the crowd, a short distance away from Pinky and the microphone. “But I suppose your offer is acceptable. One more song, and then we purchase the parts I need for a tracker with that money.”

“Okey-dokey, Brain. Zort!” Pinky typed in the matching number, and the song title appeared onscreen.  The songs he’d picked earlier were all high energy and fun. This one was slower, more tender.

And he really wanted to sing for Pharfignewton so she’d hear him. Horses had excellent hearing after all.

Pinky turned to the audience. “Everyone, you’ve all been great. I have to go after this, but I just wanted to dedicate my last song to my girlfriend Pharfignewton. She’s a marvelous mare who’s dreamed of winning the Triple Crown since she was just a young filly. We love each other a lot, and I miss her so much, but I know she’s gonna do great out there in the Derby!”

The crowd made sympathetic cooing noises. Several people had their phones out to record.

“And I also want to dedicate this song to a missing friend of a friend. We don’t know where he is exactly, but I just know they’re gonna be super happy when they find each other again.”

Brain gave him a surprised look, which melted into one of gratitude.

The opening notes for Somewhere Out There played. Pinky took a deep breath and poured his entire heart into the melody.

Somewhere out there

Beneath the pale moonlight

Someone’s thinking of me

And loving me tonight

Pinky caught Brain’s eye, but the alien quickly returned his gaze to the screen, which displayed a beautiful Hawaiian beach at nighttime.

He hoped Pharfignewton was thinking of him.

Pharfignewton had to be almost to Kentucky now. If she won the Derby, then she would move onto other horse races, photoshoots, and interviews. Not to mention all the eating and sleeping so she could be at her best.

Sometimes, Pinky wished she could’ve stayed. But she had a career ahead of her. And so he let her go.

And when they reunited, they’d make up for lost time.  

He sang the other singer’s part too, watching Brain in case he changed his mind. He seemed content with listening though, so Pinky let him be.  

Somewhere out there

If love can see us through

Then we'll be together

Somewhere out there

Out where dreams come true

Pinky caught his breath as the instrumental began. All this singing was making his throat dry, but he had to finish his song.

He wondered if Brain would ever introduce him to Snowball. Maybe the three of them could be besties!

The refrain started again. Pinky poured his soul into it, hoping they could find Snowball soon.

And the song drew to a close. Pinky’s throat tickled, so the last lyric was quiet rather than loud.

“…out where dreams come true.”

That was Brain’s voice. Deeper, hesitant, and whispering, but he harmonized well with Pinky’s higher vocals. Brain sang beautifully. It felt like being entrusted with a secret only the closest friends shared.

Though everyone clapped for Pinky, none of them heard Brain. The lyric was meant for him and Brain alone.

“Come, Pinky. We must make haste,” Brain said. He stood up, taking Pinky by the wrist and leading him to the table’s edge.  

“Righty-o, Brain! Bye, everyone! Love you all!” Pinky waved goodbye to their captivated audience, then grabbed the cap’s brim, dragging it along behind him.

Brain tensed, ready to leap from the table to the ground. Then a flicker of movement by the store sign caught Pinky’s attention. Was the neon sign broken? They should really fix them.

But it wasn’t a broken, blinking neon sign. The color was too dark for that.

Pinky leaned back, trying to see what the mysterious thing was. It could easily be a bird, a plane, or Superman.

He leaned too far, and instead of a graceful leap, he and Brain tumbled to the ground. All the money spilled out around them, the cap landing on top of them.

“Pinky, I don’t care if you want to fall from moderately elevated platforms, but don’t drag me down with you!“ Brain snapped as he shoved Pinky away. He crawled out from underneath the cap, flipping it upside down and tossing the spilled money inside.

“Sorry, Brain. I was just trying to see where that dark thingy went,” Pinky said, scooping up a handful of coins and dropped them into the cap. Now that their audience was gone, it was much easier to see everything.

Including the flying camera just hovering around the entrance. The mini blades whirled above the main body, which had a silvery ‘NS’ on its side.  

“Oh, that’s what I saw! Hi, Mr. Flying Camera! Narf!” Pinky waved to the flying camera, which shrank the size of its lens, almost like it was glaring at him.

“Mr. Flying Cam-“ Brain’s scoff cut short as he looked up. His pink eyes grew huge and round. “Pinky, that’s…that’s Selenian tech. The NS is a New Selene trademark.”

“A long way from home then, isn’t it?” Pinky asked.

Brain ignored Pinky’s question. Slowly, he walked towards the camera, his hand reaching out, expecting the camera to come to him.

But it flew outside the store instead, dodging any obstacles in its path.

“Come back!” Brain shouted, and he took off after the flying camera. Though he couldn’t fly himself, he dodged every foot and stroller in his dogged pursuit.  

He never noticed Pinky.

“Brain, wait for me! Brain!” Pinky yelled. But the camera and Brain turned a corner and disappeared.

He tried to drag the cap and money behind him, but it only slowed him down. He’d never catch up to them.

Unless…

“Sorry, Pharfignewton,” Pinky whispered. He ran off, leaving the desired objects behind.

Someone would find a cap and lots of money. It would make their day brighter. He found comfort with that.

o-o-o-o-o

He found Brain outside a side entrance. The alien dropped to his knees, looking up into the afternoon sky.

There was no sign of the camera anywhere.

“Brain?” Pinky said. “Where’s the camera?”

Brain’s mouth trembled as he tried to stifle a stream of tears. But they came anyway, spilling down his drooping cheeks like twin waterfalls. His eyes bored through Pinky, like he couldn’t really see him. Pinky pulled him in for a hug, gently stroking the back of his large head.

For once, Brain didn’t protest, and he clung to Pinky like a lifeline.

“Gone,” Brain choked out.

End AN: CHAPTER COMPLETE. WHOO.

Naming minor OCs is surprisingly hard to do.

I used to really love Dragon Tales as a kid so I shouted out to Dragon Land here.

I fully admit to just conveniently declaring a Free Burger Day with a coupon cause the mice don’t have money. I have god powers and I do what I want. And I declare the mice deserve burgers.

The karaoke here is a program called Magic Sing, which is what I grew up with. Trust me, Filipinos adore their karaoke. Basically, you hook the microphone to a TV, and you input a number code into the microphone to bring up a song. For instance, 0001 brings up Elvis Presley’s All Shook Up.  

Pinky has some abandonment issues.

Give them hugs. They need them.

[tealin]

Cape Crozier: The Outward Journey

As always, please visit the original blog for proper formatting. Sigh, Tumblr.

I am telling this as the last of my field trips, because it was without doubt the climax of my Antarctic adventures.  In actual fact, this happened the day after the previous climax, which was when I flew over the Beardmore Glacier. If time was invented so everything didn't happen at once, and space was invented so it didn't happen to you, then Time and Space were apparently out on a girls' weekend in late November 2019.

There was one major journey yet to undertake, in my visits to sites of historical importance.  It was the location of a minor side-quest in the story of the Scott Expedition – one could, theoretically, leave it out of a retelling with no narrative consequences – but it's the central episode and emotional fulcrum of The Worst Journey in the World, and gave the book its title.  In June and July 1911, the dead of Antarctic winter, three men set off from Cape Evans to reach the Emperor penguin colony at Cape Crozier, on the other side of Ross Island, to fetch some eggs when the embryos were at the right stage of development to yield potential clues to the evolution of birds.  The adventure ended up being more of a test of human endurance than avian ancestry, and the results got from the few specimens they did collect did not advance the theory they were hoped to prove (though scientists would remind us that negative results are still results).  However, it is an amazing story of what people are willing to undertake for the sake of intellectual progress, and in this instance, of how cast-iron character can make the unimaginably awful endurable, and as such, it very much warrants the retelling.

Unlike Cape Evans, Cape Crozier is hard to get to, hostile, and not very well documented.  There was no way I could ever visit it at midwinter, but, having almost no clue what the place was like beyond the written word, it was vitally important to me to stand there myself and get a sense of the geography, so that I could draw figures groping around it in moonlight and blizzard when the time came.  Luckily the NSF agreed that it was important I go, because it was the most complex and expensive trip to arrange.  It would necessitate a helicopter ride; helicopters cost so much to fly, and are so necessary for shuttling people and stuff around any part of Antarctica that is inaccessible by plane (which is most of Antarctica), that their use is very strictly rationed.  I had exactly enough helicopter time allocated to get me to Cape Crozier and back.  Therefore, we had to fly on a day when it was absolutely certain we would not have to turn around, because an aborted trip would mean I didn't have enough flight hours left to try again.  Antarctic weather is unpredictable and Cape Crozier has a reputation for turning very nasty very fast, so this needed to be a careful judgement call.

The first day it was posited I fly, it didn't happen – I forget why; I think there was a backup in other jobs, and mine, being of low importance, got dropped to make room.  The second time, I was slotted for 3:45pm, though with one eye on the weather and the other on resources, the right was reserved to cancel at any time.  A little after 2:30 my coordinator called to say we were, as far as anyone could tell, good to go, so to meet at Helo Ops at 3 for the safety briefing and helmet fitting.

Accompanying me to the far reaches of Ross Island would be my coordinator, who had been a few times before; the pilot, who was one of the best in the biz and had flown for pretty much any Antarctic documentary you care to name; and a biologist, who was required to go because Cape Crozier hosted a rare and fragile species of Antarctic lichen, which we must be careful not to step on or disturb in any way.  The biologist who usually went on these trips was feeling unwell, so she sent a replacement, who was very happy to have the opportunity as he had never been to Cape Crozier before.  Of course, this meant he didn't know what the lichen looked like, but we would doubtless find out when we got there.

Team assembled and briefing done, we had only to wait for the flight to be activated.  The last possible moment came and went without cancellation, so we were on.

The latest weather report from the station at Cape Crozier was that it was 30% cloudy with winds at 7 knots.  Keeping an eye on the wind was important for obvious safety reasons; the cloud conditions, though, were important for less obvious reasons.  The helicopter pilot needs shadows and detail to be able to tell how far away the ground is, either to stay in the air or to make an emergency landing.  When clouds diffuse sunlight, a snow-covered surface looks perfectly blank, and no details show up to give a sense of scale or distance, so it's unsafe to fly.  

We were supposed to have flown along the south coast of Ross Island, following the route that Wilson, Bowers, and Cherry-Garrard sledged at great cost in 1911.  That side of the island was cloudy, however, so we were redirected to fly around the other side.  From a historical perspective this was a bit of a disappointment, but from an artistic one, the north side of the island was absolutely stunning, and I very quickly came to see why people with money to burn choose to travel by helicopter.

Plus, it meant we started out journey by flying over Cape Evans.

All of Ross Island is volcanic, and near Cape Royds is a small parasitic cone which was explored by the expedition's geologists, who were also the first to climb Mt. Erebus.  I thought it was named Mt. Sis, after someone's sister, but in fact it is Mt. Cis, after one of their dogs.  Our pilot had been this way before and had something special to show us:

On top of Mt. Cis is a pickaxe.  I don't believe there's any historical record of anyone leaving it there, but the Nimrod Expedition is not my speciality.  It has been checked out, and the pickaxe is a model that was in use in the early 20th century, so either an early explorer stuck it there and didn't bother writing it down, or a later explorer found an old pickaxe and stuck it there to give the impression an early explorer had done so.  Anyway, it's been there as long as anyone can remember, and doesn't seem to have suffered much, so will probably continue to be there for some time to come.

From there, onwards up the east coast to cross over the shoulder between Mt Erebus and Cape Bird, then over the snowy slopes of Terror, and the dissipating sea ice, to reach our destination.

Our first sight of Cape Crozier was the Adélie penguin rookery.  This is one of the largest in the world, where upwards of 250,000 penguins congregate to make the next generation of penguins every year.  I had not seen a penguin yet, and though my eyeballs were pointed directly at them, I was too far up to see any now, but their presence is evident in the vast, vast amount of light brown penguin poo.

On this side of Ross Island, the ice shelf is unimpeded by smaller islands or awkward quirks of geology as it is around McMurdo.  As it grinds around the corner, here, it crinkles, and then as it straightens out again, the crinkles break, and the ice lets in long fingers of sea, which freezes during the winter.  It is on these frozen fingers, sheltered from the worst of the blizzards by the taller segments of Ice Shelf, that the Emperor penguins incubate their eggs through the Antarctic winter.

It was these finger bays that our intrepid explorers were trying to reach, but they needed to establish their base camp somewhere a little more secure, on the solid rock of Cape Crozier.  We were on our way to do the same.

The hill coming up was incredibly exciting to see, perhaps even more exciting than Observation Hill.  When the Terra Nova first arrived at Ross Island, it was not on the McMurdo side of it, but rather here, because Cape Crozier was posited to be the most sensible site for Expedition headquarters. It had been explored on the Discovery Expedition, so they knew there was permanent access to the ice shelf, and thus the road south, unlike Hut Point or Cape Royds which would be cut off by miles of open sea for half the year.  It had reliable fresh water nearby, and the Emperor penguins would be right next door.  On the day the Terra Nova arrived, though, the swell on the sea was too high to permit a landing, and when they sent out a scouting party on one of the whaleboats, they discovered no suitable landing place. So they had no choice but to make for the old familiar haunts on the other side of the island.

Now, this is so much historical trivia, except that as part of exploring my desired artistic style and putting together my grant proposal for this trip, I had drawn that scouting journey, and prominent in the scene is this very hill, with its orca eye-spot of snow.  The early explorers called it The Knoll.

This was based on a photograph taken on that day, which clearly shows The Knoll, and also that in January 1911 the ice front was a very long way back from where it is now.

As you can see, what is open water in 1911 is thick and pressured ice in my own photo from 2019.

Now, before you jump on this as proof that climate change is a lie, you may like to hear about my conversation with a scientist who has been studying the Cape Crozier Emperors for over forty years.  He said that, while usually the leading edge of the ice shelf crumbles into small icebergs, occasionally enormous chunks drift off in one go.  When they do, they take a whole generation of Emperor chicks with them, long before they are ready to swim, and that generation is lost.  There is another Emperor colony at Beaufort Island, off the north coast of Ross Island, and following a catastrophe at Cape Crozier, a lot of breeding pairs move to Beaufort, and vice versa. 

When the Crozier party arrived at the Emperor rookery in July 1911, Wilson was expecting the two thousand birds he'd seen when he visited with the Discovery, but there were only a hundred.  Therefore it is plausible that, sometime between 1903 and 1911, a very large chunk of ice had pulled away from Cape Crozier, pushing the shoreline back and scaring off the penguins.

Back to the present, now, or at least last November.  We had just passed The Knoll and were on our way to our landing site, a short walk away from the site of our penguin hunters' stone igloo.  The place they chose to call home is the thin little ridge sticking out into the mist at the left of this photo:

Here we come …

And there we are.

When the Crozier party set off on their science trip in 1911, the three men hauled two sledges for two and a half weeks, through deep soft snow and temperatures that broke known records – down to -77°F one night, according to the thermometer slung under the sledge.  The transcendent misery of marching in frozen clothes, not being able to get proper sleep for the shivering, and burning their precious fuel through the night just to survive, is carved deep in Cherry's writing of the experience.  To say it was hellish is no exaggeration: Cherry points out that Dante put the circle of ice below the circles of fire in his Inferno, and thought it was apropos.  The greatest challenge of our own journey out was landing the helicopter: given the sensitive environment and the fragile lichens, there was a specific landing site that was supposed to be marked out with stones.  Our pilot circled once to find it, and came back around because he couldn't spot it the first time, then finally landed right on the GPS waymark because there was no visible clue where the actual site was supposed to be.  As difficulties go, it hardly bears mention.  Whether we'd earned it or not, however, we were there.

[efrmellifer]

Haul

Seven Days of Estinyan: Day Three

“What in the hells are you wearing?”

Etien looked herself over, lifting one booted foot then the other to look at more of herself, trying to see what was so offensive about her outfit. Then she looked up at Estinien, brow knit. “It was a gift from Oki.”

“Does he normally dress you like that?” “This is pretty common for fishers, aye,” she replied, settling her hands on her hips. “If you don’t wear waders, anyway.”

“And you do not?”

She laughed. “If this upsets your style sensibilities, the waders certainly would.”

“Hmm. I suppose I should take your word for it.” He sat down on the dock. “Is it always so…” He gestured to the sky, “in La Noscea?”

She shrugged, sitting down next to him. “When I visit Limsa Lominsa to talk to the arcanists and other fishers, yes. Sometimes it’s a little milder if a wind comes off the sea, but mostly it’s a strong hot sun or severe storms.”

Estinien sighed. “I suppose sun is better than levin storms.” He picked Etien up from where she’d been sitting and set her between his legs, scooting back to give her enough room to comfortably sit on the planks of the dock while still sitting with her back to his chest. He settled her bait bag (rather than a tackle box,per se) next to his leg, holding it open for her.

She fished out the hook and bait she needed, getting them affixed to the end of her fishing line, then (carefully, with Estinien behind her) cast into the water.

She was quiet for a long time while they waited, kicking her feet and taking off her hat to put it on Estinien (“you have to protect your ears and nose,” she told him), one hand on the rod while the other did the other sundry tasks.

The bucket she’s brought for her catches was filling, but she was still unsatisfied, waiting for a catch she wouldn’t name.

“I would half expect you to be knitting,” he said quietly, so he didn’t scare the fish, “since this is such a long wait.”

He was taken slightly aback by how softly Etien laughed in response, wondering if she had practiced it for moments like this. Or was it supposed to be for Ishgard’s high society, and it just happened to work here as well?

“Unfortunately, I need at least one hand holding the fishing pole,” she remarked, waggling it slightly for effect.

And that was when it bent in half. He worried it was going to snap, but they were built to resist intense pulling and pressure, weren’t they?

So Etien began to reel in the line, and Estinien held her by the middle, anchoring her as she struggled with the rod and whatever was attached to it. Finally, having risen to standing but still held in place, she dragged a squid from the water.

“I would have thought you would need a net for that,” Estinien commented, trying to eyeball a measurement of the squid. “But by hook and line? The rumors don’t tell half the story.”

She blushed and curtsied. “Here,” she said, handing it over. “Cut it and dry it? I know you like sun-dried squid. Let’s have some.”

With a shake of his head, h did as she asked, the strong maritime sun leaving the squid perfectly dried by the time they had finished their tour of town, filled with errand-running and leisure activities both.

So they sat down, and Estinien offered Etien the first piece.

She took it, and took a rather large bite of it, but it was too late to warn her off that. He watched her struggle with the piece in her jaws, her expression hard to discern past “not very happy.”

“Is it not to your liking?” he asked, ready to eat the lion’s share of it (though he knew she might still choke more down “to be polite.”)

“It tastes fine,” she replied. “It’s just tough. Chewing it is hard.”

“I guess that’s true. I got used to it.”

“I’m sure you did, Ser Eating Eastern Delicacies.”

He snorted. “Well, now we both want tea, so there.”

She stuck her tongue out but couldn’t refrain from laughing.

“Thank you,” she said finally.

“For?”

“Coming along with me. Introducing me to squid prepared like this, fresh from the sea and all. I don’t know that I would have liked it quite as much if it weren’t like this.”

“So fresh? Such a dry day?”

“No,” she cooed, scooting across the wooden docks again to lean against him. “With you.”

[babyboyblasty]

CHAPTER 11:

"Shhh, don't talk too loud! You'll wake him!"

"But we're almost there"

"Yeah but look at him! He looks so peaceful!"

"And pretty.."

"What?"

"What? I didn't say anything. "

"Hagakure-san, your bisexual is showing"

"Kyaaah!!!! I didn't say anything!"

Bakugou slowly blinked his eyes open and saw Ochako and Mina smirking at a flustered Hagakure who was flailing her arms around. Mina noticed he was awake and immediately looked his way with a smile. "Bakubabe! We're one stop away from the mall so wakey wakey~" she sing songed and Bakugou slapped the hand that was patting his head away.

"Uraraka-kun! Hagakure-kun! Ashido-kun! Get back in your seats this instant! Standing in a moving vehicle is completely unsafe and against the rules" Iida yelled back at the three and they laughed, doing as told with a 'yes class pres'.

Letting out a yawn, Bakugou sat upright from laying on Koda’s shoulder and stretched out his back. He was going to rub the sleep from his eyes but remembered he had makeup on and puffed his cheeks in annoyance at the inconvenience, crossing his arms with a frown. From beside Iida (who was chopping the air while lecturing the girls about safety protocols) Izuku couldn't hide his smile at how cute grumpy Kacchan was but then again neither could half the class.

Todoroki heard a quiet laugh from behind him and turned to see Satou there. "That Midoriya sure can't hide how bad he's got it, can he?" the other chuckled, speaking to Ojirou, and Todoroki's head tilted in confusion.

"How bad he's got what?" he asked.

"Hmm? Oh. I was just referring to the crush he has on Bakugou" he explained and Ojirou nodded along with an amused smile.

"Midoriya has a crush on Bakugou?" Todoroki frowned slightly.

"You didn't know? It's so obvious. Well, obvious to everyone except Bakugou that is" Sato laughed and Todoroki turned back around signaling the end of the conversation. Satou didn't seem to mind though since he went right back to speaking with Ojirou, this time about training. To be fair, Bakugou seemed oblivious to the fact he had practically nineteen pairs of eyeballs glancing at him from time to time even now. The bus came to a slow stop and everyone began to gather their stuff.

"We're here! Everyone stick with a moving buddy or group, no wandering off on your own" Iida announced and ushered everyone off the bus and towards the mall entrance. As hard as it was to believe (or not), class 1-A's infamous luck for attracting trouble had followed them well into their third year at UA.

Bakugou and Kirishima made eye contact as they got off the bus but the latter quickly turned away to go catch up with Denki and Sero. Katsuki won't say that it didn't hurt but he hid it and just moved on, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his shorts and beginning to walk forward with the rest of his classmates. Whatever shitty hair's fucking problem was wasn't any of his business but if it continued, he'll definitely take matters into his own hands. Eijirou isn’t cutting him off without at least an explanation.

"So we'll all meet up here in three hours. Does that sound fair?" Momo asked the class once they were in the center of the mall near the water fountain and everyone agreed, splitting up into groups with their friends. "Afterwards we can all go to the food court together." The students began to disperse and head in different directions after that, merging with the rest of the people at the mall.

Izuku hung back a little from his own group, Iida and Todoroki, when he saw that Katsuki was alone since Kirishima had gone with his other friends. He approached him and tapped him on the shoulder to get his attention. "Um, Kacchan? Would you maybe like to—"

"Sorry Midoriya!" a pale pink arm was suddenly draping over the blonde's shoulders and pulling them into a borderline chokehold. "We're going to steal this cutie for a few hours. Baku-yum is coming with us to do some shopping" Mina butt in. The blonde just 'tsked' with an eye roll but didn’t disagree.

"Right" the boy smiled though his shoulders sagged a bit. He had hoped to get to hang out with Bakugou for a while to talk, maybe possibly even just the two of them alone, but he guessed he was too late for that.

"You can join us if you'd like, Midoriya-kun," Yaoyorozu quickly added and the rest made noise of agreement. Behind them stood the rest of the girl squad and Aoyama, all looking at the green haired boy who flushed at the attention, especially under the intense stare of a pair of red eyes.

"Oh, um. No, that's fine. I was just leaving anyway. See ya later" he shyly waved at them and they all waved back, saying their goodbyes (and “au revoir”) with the exception of Jirou who merely nodded his way in acknowledgement and Bakugou who ignored it completely.

Mina took Bakugou's hand in hers and started leading him away god knows where. "See you in three hours, Midoriya!" she looked over her shoulder back at him and gave him a thumbs up.

"Where are you extras taking me now?" Izuku heard Bakugou groan.

"The question is more like where /aren't/ we taking you. We have three hours to kill" she laughed.

"Why me?" he complained but didn't make any effort in pulling away. Gosh how class 3-A loved their tsundere.

Deku looked at them leave, watching how they bickered the whole way in endearment.

"You look nice today, Midoriya."

The male jumped, turning to find Todoroki standing there.

"Ah! T-Todoroki-kun! You scared me" he shrieked. " And oh. I um, thank you Todoroki-kun. You look nice as well" he replied a bit awkwardly. He was never good at accepting compliments.

"It's for Bakugou, right?" the half and half male stated. It wasn't a question and Izuku knew it.

"W-what?" he sputtered and turned very red, looking around for anyone that might have heard or was eavesdropping into the conversation. The mall was full of people but no one seemed to be paying attention to the two UA students though, too busy doing their own thing to notice. "W-why, why would you—?"

"Me too" Todoroki smiled a little before it went away, replaced by his usual blank expression. "I hope this doesn't put a strain in our friendship. You're a dear friend to me, Midoriya."

"I um…" he mumbled, baffled. He was at a loss for words. How could he respond to that? "He isn't a girl" was what he said instead. Maybe he was only attracted to Kacchan because of the quirk. Or at least that's what he hoped.

"I know he isn't. And tomorrow when he turns back I will continue to pursue him if he'll have me" Todoroki explained. "It took me a while to see it but I think I've had feelings for Bakugou for a while now. I was told that you do too and I thought it was the right thing to do to give you a fair warning that I will be going after Bakugou as well."

"...right."

Todoroki and Izuku remained in a silence where neither of them spoke and only stared at each other, Todoroki with an air of indifference where he appeared unfazed and Izuku where his eyebrows were pulled together and his lips were set in a thin line in thought.

"Todoroki-kun, Midoriya-kun, there you are. Did something happen?" Iida approached them. He had gone to the bathroom for a second only to come back to his friends in a type of staring contest.

"Ah? Oh, um, it's nothing. Todoroki-kun and I were just talking. Shall we go?" Izuku put on a forced smile and if Iida noticed it, he didn't say anything and just nodded. In a way, Izuku was a little relieved at the intervention and he quickly moved to the other side of Tenya, keeping his distance from Shoto for a bit. Truth be told, he still wasn't completely sure of what just happened. Sure he thought Kacchan was awesome and amazing and cool but he didn’t like him like /that/, did he? He didn't think so, but knowing that Todoroki did like him that way didn't sit right with him either.

...

"Don't both your parents work in the fashion industry, Bakugou?" Jirou asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Yeah they do. What about it, ears?" the blonde raised an eyebrow.

"No, nothing. Just wondering how the son of two fashionistas could have such bad taste" she smirked.

"Oi screw you!" he growled.

"Ladies, no fighting. Okay Bakubabe, I need your opinion since I can't decide. This top with these pants or this top with the skirt?" Mina asked, stepping out of the dressing room like it was her own personal catwalk and doing a twirl a few feet away from them, striking a pose.

"I don't know. Get what you want" he shrugged with a dismissive tone and Mina pouted, giving him a look that made Bakugou groan. Jirou gave him one too. "Ugh alright, fine! Whatever. Get the top with the skirt. The colors suit your skin tone better and they're much more versatile than bright fucking red jeans. The pants look cool or whatever but you have enough of those. Besides, with the skirt and top you'll be able to mix and match more outfits so you'll get more use out of them. Plus the skirt makes your natural curves stand out more and gives you a more feminine and mature look but depending on what you pair it up with you can switch the style."

Mina was just expecting a random opinion like Kiri, Denki, and Sero said when she forced them to come with her (which she'd then overthrow and choose what she wanted in the first place), not Bakugou to give a full blown analysis as to why. Was her heart racing a bit?

"Close your mouth, Mina. You'll catch flies” Jirou teased, her hand raising up to her mouth to hide her snicker.

So far, it's been two hours more or less. Mina had wanted to keep shopping so Jirou joined the pink skinned girl and they dragged Bakugou along with them while the other girls and Aoyama went to get a manicure done. Momo texted Jirou a few minutes ago that they were done though so they were just waiting on Mina so they could pay and leave to meet up with the rest of their group in front of the nail place.

"I- yes!" Mina blurted out and Jirou noticed the subtle red peeking through pink cheeks. She was blushing. "The skirt and shirt it is then" she decided, nodding in approval, and went back into the dressing room to change into her own clothing.

Bakugou just grumbled and settled back into his chair while the other girl giggled into the palm of her hand. ‘There goes another one’ she thought to herself.

"What are you laughing at, ears?" the other looked over at her accusingly.

"Oh, nothing. Don't mind me" Jirou shrugged with a smirk, her finger twirling her earlobe mindlessly.

…

Somewhere on the opposite side of the mall were Iida, Todoroki, and Izuku. Everything seemed to have gone back to normal as they all talked between themselves and Tokoyami's group; Shoji and Koda. Or more like everyone but Todoroki talked. The ice and fire quirk user was too busy looking up vital information for research purposes on his phone.

It all started a little less than an hour ago when they were in a store and through the window, he saw how a boy with shaggy brown hair gave a girl a bag with something in it and the girl gave him a hug and a kiss on the cheek in return. Todoroki hummed to himself a bit in wonder then turned to Iida. Izuku had gone to look at some hero figurines a few aisles down so it was just them in that particular section.

"Iida" Todoroki spoke and Tenya looked up from a nice tie he had his eye on and over to said boy instead.

"Yes? What is it, Todoroki-kun?" the male brought up a hand to fix his glasses instinctively but then remembered he wasn't wearing any. Force of habit.

"Why did that guy give that girl a gift? Is it her birthday?" he turned back to look out the window. The two of them were sitting quite close with their fingers intertwined and Iida refrained from telling Todoroki how it was impolite to stare.

"Um, it could be? But people tend to give the people they like gifts just because sometimes. To show they were thinking about them and that they care. There doesn't always have to be a special occasion" Iida explained.

"Oh" Todoroki nodded. He thinks he gets it now. Growing up the way he did, he never received presents just because. Only ever on his birthday or a holiday. He thought it was against the rules to give gifts just because but Iida said it was okay so it must be. “And if I give someone a gift, will they know I like them and like me back?" he asked.

"Well, maybe. But there's also the chance that they /won't/ like you back immediately or at all in some cases, however it's a good start" Iida patted the other on the back and Todoroki thanked him.

That's basically how Todoroki found himself where he was now. 'What to give to a boy that's been turned into a girl but only temporarily since he's still a boy as a gift to show you are interested' is what he typed into the search engine. "Gifts for Girls: 36 of the Best Gift Ideas for Girls to Let Them Know You Care" was what popped up as the first option and Todoroki thought it through before he clicked it anyway. It never hurts to check. 'A tumbler with a straw; she'll think of you with every sip with this cute decorative tumbler' it read. No. Next one. 'Lip duo; keep her lips moisturized with this cute lip balm and lip tint set!" Hmm… no. Next. 'Gold initial pendant necklace; These cute gold initial pendant necklaces are a perfect little gift. She will carry your initials with her always! (Bonus points if you get one for yourself with her initials too)'

While it does sound appealing to think about Katsuki wearing an 'S.T' or even just an 'S' pendant necklace around his neck, he doesn't think it's an appropriate first gift just yet. Maybe once they start dating he can get him one and even buy himself a matching ‘K.B’ one so they can match and be, quote unquote, ‘relationship goals’ like Mina says. That’d be nice. He’d like that. Shoto continued on to the next one.

'Jigsaw puzzle; This inspiring 500 piece jigsaw puzzle is a good activity to do together' he read. He'll think about it but he wants something better. Shoes was the next one but he doesn't really know Bakugou's shoe or clothing size so that's out. A candy making kit sounds fun but Bakugou doesn't really like sweet things.

After going through all 36, Todoroki still didn't have the perfect gift. If there was anyone who'd know what Bakugou likes better than anyone else, it'd be either Midoriya or Kirishima but he wanted to do this himself. He'll keep looking in the shops as they go. They have an hour left before going back so he'll find something. Todoroki was determined.

“Isn’t that Bakugou? Who's that he's with?” he heard someone say, and turned to Shoji. Following the direction in which he was looking, Todoroki discovered that it indeed was Bakugou and he felt himself go cold, hands clenching. This wasn’t good.

[ word count: 2665 ]

[kurts-still-here]

Nothing Breaks Like A Heart Chapter 2 Kurt/ Sebastian FanFiction

Hello everyone, I am back with chapter 2 of “Nothing Breaks Like A Heart”. Please read etheir on here or A03 or FanFiction. Net and leave any comments, questions or feedback for me. I love hearing from you guys and everyone was super sweet about chapter 1. This chapter is about how Kurt’s family reacts when they see him beat up and I loved writing this because of how loving and supportive everyone was. Anyway read for yourself and have a good day!! :)

Archive Of Our Own

FanFiction.Net (Chapter 2)

“It’s Like One Day You Flipped A Switch And Became Someone I Never Knew”- Unknown

“What the hell happened?” Kurt heard his dad and Finn yell at the same time. Kurt didn’t answer them, just continuing to cry into Sam’s chest. He was asking himself the same question. Carol went over to him and kneeled down in front of him so that when Sam pulled Kurt away from that Kurt was looking right at her.

“Kurt, honey, what happened? Who did this to you?” She asked him but all Kurt could do was shake his head. He couldn’t tell them, they would call the police on Blaine and then Blaine would know that he broke his promise and would probably come after Kurt to hurt him more. He wasn’t taking any chances, he was in enough pain as it was and he wasn’t about to go cause himself more.

“Kurt, son,” His dad started to say calmly , joining the group over at the table. “I thought you were with Blaine tonight. Where is he? Why didn’t he drive you home? Do I need to call him?”

“No,” Kurt yelled, making his dad and Carol exchange an odd look with each other.

“Blaine and I broke up and I told him that I would just walk home… because it’s not that far away but then…” Kurt stopped and took a shaky breath, trying to figure out what to say. “... I don’t want to talk about it.” That was enough, he didn’t want his family to get any ideas that Blaine was the one who hurt him, even though that idea was the truth.

“Wait, Blaine broke up with you?” Finn asked, surprised. “Why?”

“I broke up with him and it doesn’t matter,” Kurt whispered. It did matter, all of it mattered because not only was Kurt physically broken but he was also heartbroken which didn’t make much sense because he was starting to think he had never loved him in the first place.

“Well, he didn’t hurt you did he?” Sam asked and Kurt shook his head, lying.

“You know Blaine didn’t do this, Sam. Blaine wouldn’t hurt a fly.” ‘But he would hurt his boyfriend.’ Kurt thought to himself, miserably. He didn’t want to talk about it anymore though so he changed the subject. “It hurts,”

“Well you do look pretty beaten up there honey,” Carol told him. “Lucky for you, I’m a nurse so there’s no need to take you to a doctor right now.”

“Carol, I think…” Burt started to say but Carol shot him a look that said, “Not now, look at the state he’s in,” and he shut up. He turned her attention back to Kurt and started examining his body while asking him some questions that thankfully had nothing to do with the identities of his attacker.

“Where does it hurt specifically Kurt?”

“My head, my face, my wrist and my stomach and my ankle. I think I snapped my ankle, it’s kind of dangling out of place.” Kurt admitted, trying not to look down at his foot because he felt sick enough and didn’t really want to throw up again.

“Well it looks like whatever got you, got you pretty hard, sweetie. You’ve got a black eye and your eyeball is really red and swollen.” ‘Must’ve been the book,” Kurt thought to himself. “And when you say that your head hurts do you mean because you feel sick or did you hit it?”

“Both,” Kurt mumbled, starting to feel sicker and sicker by the minute.

“And is that the same with your stomach?” She asked him. “Did someone punch or kick you? Or something,” She added at the end.

“Yes, I got punched,”

“Okay, Kurt I’m going to need you to stand up and take your shirt off so I can see if you have any marks. Not to worry you but you could have internal bruising if you got punched. Can you stand up?” She asked him.

“Yes,” Kurt said and held onto the table to push himself up but when he was fully standing, he felt the pain throughout his body increase and winced. “Never mind, no,” He changed his answer.

“Sam hold Kurt up, please,” Carol ordered Sam who gave Kurt a small, comforting smile and held him up by his hips. “Okay Kurt, let me help you,” She told him, going over to him to help him pull his wet and surprisingly, blood soaked shirt off. It took some time and it was extremely painful for Kurt but they all managed. When the shirt was finally off Carol placed it aside and went back to look at Kurt’s stomach when she along with Finn and Burt gasped.

Kurt’s stomach was practically black, covered in various little bruises but when you looked from afar it looked like one. Kurt told himself not to look down so as to not freak himself out. He hated all these injuries, the blood and the bones and the bruising. He always had, that’s one of the reasons why he never got into any sports until he played football his sophomore year. The thought of having a bone sticking out of him or getting a bloody nose was very unappealing to him so that just made this whole situation even worse than it already was due to the fact that there was blood all over him and that his ankle was deformed.

“Kurt that looks painful honey,” Carol told him and usually Kurt would snap back at her and would say that it was painful but he was too focused on breathing so he wouldn’t puke all over himself and Sam. “We need to get some ice on that after you get yourself cleaned up but next you said your wrist hurt. Can I see it?”

Kurt nodded his head a little and held out his right arm for Carol to examine. She took it in her hand and gently held it, trying her best not to twist it to cause any more pain or damage. “Hmm, it may be sprained honey, we’ll have to wrap it up, okay?” She asked him but Kurt was silently crying again, feeling sick to his stomach and wasn’t paying attention to her. “Kurt?” She asked again and when Kurt started to feel something rise in his throat he wiggled himself out of Sam’s grasp and fell towards the sink just in time to throw up in it.

He retched and heaved while Sam rubbed his back. He felt horrible which only made him cry more, which made his stomach hurt more which caused him to vomit even more. When there was nothing left in him for him to puke (for now at least) he turned on the sink and washed it out before splashing the water on his face. He dried off his face with a paper towel and realized that he was out of breath. He just wanted to sleep now but Carol wasn’t done examining him and he still had to take a bath and get his injuries wrapped up. He continued crying and Sam helped him sit back down in his chair before sitting down himself next to Kurt and Finn joined them. Both boys grabbed one of Kurt’s hands and held it, trying their best to comfort him without hurting him anymore.

“Kurt bud, I know it hurts but it’s going to be okay,” His dad told him. “What do you want us to do?”

“Nothing,” Kurt told them all. “I want to… I don’t know it just hurts.” He sobbed.

“How about some pain reliever?” Carol suggested and Kurt nodded his head. “You’ll probably have to eat something to keep it down though. Do you think you can do that?”

“No,” Kurt choked out. He didn’t want to be sick anymore and he wasn’t taking any chances.

“Okay, well how about this?” Carol started to suggest. “Let’s do this. Let me check out your ankle. If it is dislocated like you think it is then I will try to pop it back into place. I’ve done it many times before but it will be extremely painful. In the case that it doesn’t work, we’ll need to take you to the hospital but let me try first. After we tend to that, you can go and take a bath and change your clothes. Once you’re done I’ll come in and bandage your wrist and will give you an ankle brace. Tomorrow I’ll go out and get you an air cast and that will relieve the pressure that you put on there. You’re going to have some kind of medicine for all of this or else you’re just going to feel even worse so you’re going to have to eat something for me, okay?” Kurt reluctantly nodded his head.

“After that, we’ll let you sleep and we’ll just see how you feel in the morning. Hopefully you feel a little better. Does that sound like a good plan?” She asked him.

“Yes,” Kurt answered, trying to figure out how long all of this would take so he could hurry up. He just wanted to skip to the step where he could go to bed even though he was drenched in rain, sweat and blood.

“Okay, so let me see your ankle.” She told Kurt who held out his ankle for her. She carefully took his shoe off and then his sock to reveal a swollen, dislocated ankle.

“Yep, definitely dislocated but it looks like it will be an easy fix.” She told everyone. “Now, like I said, this is going to hurt badly. You may scream, you may vomit, you may pass out but once I get it back in place it will feel much better. Are you ready?”

“Yes,” Kurt told her when he really meant no. He didn’t want to vomit again let alone scream or faint. Hopefully he said quiet, with his mouth shut and his eyes open.

“Okay, I’m going to fix it on three. One… two… three.” She said and snapped his ankle back into its socket.

“OH MY GOD,” Kurt shouted. He knew it was going to hurt but it felt like, he didn’t even know, it hurt that bad. His vision became blurred with tears and he squeezed his brother’s hands tightly.

“There, you’re all done.” Carol told him. ‘Thank god,” Kurt thought. “You did good.”

“Thanks,” Kurt said, bitterly.

“Okay, now for step two. Finn, Sam, can you help Kurt upstairs? I need to get all the supplies.” She asked the other two boys who nodded their heads. They both stood up and Sam bent down so he could pick Kurt up bridal style and Finn led them up the stairs to Kurt’s room. Once they were inside, Finn shut the door and Sam placed Kurt down on his bed.

“So, how do you want to do this?” Finn asked him. “Can you stand long enough to take a shower?”

“Yes,” Kurt told him. He would try to anyway but he wasn’t going to have his brothers help him take a bath. He wasn’t a baby and he already knew how uncomfortable Finn would be. “I won’t take long just… please don’t leave,” He begged them both. He didn’t want to be alone right now.

“We won’t,” Sam promised him. “We’ll just wait in here, take your time,”

Kurt stood himself up and walked into his bathroom. He slowly bent down to get a towel from the cabinet underneath his sink and when he came back up he accidentally looked into the mirror and froze. Carol wasn’t kidding when she said he looked bad in fact that was an understatement. He looked horrible. Just like Carol had said, his right eye was black and swollen and his eyeball was bloodshot red. He had other bruises all over his body and his lip was busted. He didn’t even know how Blaine had managed to hurt him so bad.

Tears were starting to well in his eyes again when he snapped out of his daze and continued getting ready to take a bath. There were two doors in his bathroom, one that led to his bedroom and the other that led to his closet. He walked into his closet and went over to where he kept his lounge clothes because contrary to what everyone thought he did have those. It took him some time to find something warm enough for him to wear since he was freezing but he eventually found a pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt that went together and took that with him back into the bathroom.

He turned on the hot water in his shower and took the rest of his clothes off. He tested the water to see how hot it was and when he was satisfied with the temperature, he got in. The water felt good on his body and it felt even better when he felt the blood and sweat wash off of him. He scrubbed his body with soap, careful to avoid any sore spots and then washed his hair, massaging his scalp. After what seemed to be about twenty minutes, Kurt turned off the water and carefully stepped out of his bathtub. He slowly dried off and put on his clothes before walking over to his sink and grabbing a brush to brush his hair. Once he was done with that, he brushed his teeth and thought about doing his skincare routine but decided against it. The shower had woken him up a little but the effect was wearing off and he still had things to do before he could sleep.

Kurt  walked out of his bathroom and sat on his bed. Finn and Sam had been talking to one another, sitting around in Kurt’s room and quickly looked up when Kurt entered the room.

“Hey, do you feel any better?” Sam asked him, hopeful.

“Yeah, you look better,” Finn added and Sam nudged him in his rib. “Ouch, what was that for? He does look better, idiot.” Apparently Finn didn’t get the message.

“I do,” Kurt told them. It was true, he didn’t feel as sick anymore even though that was probably subject to change when he had to eat something and the shower had helped with some of the pain.

“Great, that’s great,” Finn said, acting weird. He had a strained smile on his face, like he needed to say something but couldn’t get it out. “That’s just fantastic,”

“Finn, are you okay?” Kurt asked him, raising his eyebrow.

“I think the better question is if you’re okay, Kurt,” Finn asked him, raising his voice a little and causing Kurt to flinch back.

“Finn calm down, you’re scaring him,” Sam warned Finn but Finn didn’t listen.

“No, you scared us Kurt. You weren’t returning anyone’s calls or texts, we called Rachel and Jeff and Sebastian and they all didn’t know where you were, Burt was about to call the police and then you show up, covered in blood and bruises and you don’t tell us who did this to you. It’s not okay, we deserve to know. We… we were…” Finn paused, looking up at the ceiling and taking a deep breath, “... I was scared, little bro. I thought you were dead or something. I know I was overreacting but… I don’t want to lose you,” He finished saying before breaking down into tears.

He went over to sit down on Kurt’s bed next to him and pulled him into a tight hug. Finn was squishing him and it hurt but Kurt didn’t pull away. Sam joined in on the hug and they sat there for a while, all three of them crying.

“Just, don’t scare us like that anymore, okay,” Finn said, pulling away from them.

“I’m sorry,” Kurt said, wiping his tears. “I didn’t mean to, I was just… I was upset and I was panicking. I didn’t know what I was going to tell you guys and I wanted to get home. I didn’t know what to do,”

“It’s okay,” Sam said, rubbing Kurt’s back. “I mean it’s not, it’s not okay that you got beat up but you’re safe now and we won’t let it happen again. It’d be helpful though if you could tell us who did it.”

“I can’t,” Kurt admitted, shaking his head. “I just can’t and I don’t want to talk about it, it’s hard to explain,”

“Okay. Well, do you want to talk about Blaine?” Finn asked him.

“No, I’m done with him. We had a falling out but I’ll be fine,” He partly lied. He wasn’t in love with Blaine, not anymore and he hadn’t been for a while but he wasn’t sure whether he would be okay or not.

“That sucks man,” Sam said. “I thought you guys were forever,”

“Yeah, but we’re on your side,” Finn told him. “I never liked him anyway,”

“I know you didn’t,” Kurt said, smiling a little. “Thank you,”

“Anytime,” Finn told him and then stood up. “I’m going to get my mom so she can wrap your stuff,” Finn left the room and Kurt noticed that Sam was staring at him with an expression that Kurt couldn’t put his finger on.

“Sam, are you okay?” He asked him. “You’re staring,”

Sam shook his head, snapping out of his trance. “Yeah I’m okay, sorry.” Sam paused before opening his mouth again. “I know it was him, Blaine I mean, who did this to you and I’m really sorry.”

Kurt stared at him with wide eyes before starting to cry again. “Sam, please don’t tell anyone,” He begged. “I’m so scared that he’s going to… hurt me again and I can’t let it happen. You have to promise me. Please.”

“Whoa, calm down,” Sam told him. “I won't, I promise, it’s just, I think you should tell someone. Your dad and Carol so they can call the police. He hurt you Kurt, why are you protecting him? He has a better chance of hurting you again if you don’t tell anyone.”

“I just can’t. I don’t want to deal with it right now. I can’t do that to my dad or Carol or Finn. I don’t want them to worry or… or think that I need extra protection because I got myself into this. Maybe I’ll tell them eventually but I’m not ready to yet.”

“I’m not letting him anywhere near you,” Sam said. “I promise. So, can you tell me what he did exactly?”

“We got into a fight,” Kurt said, hanging his head. “I don’t know how but apparently he gets jealous whenever I hang out with you or Sebastian or any other guy. He accused me of cheating and wanted to see my phone and I told him no and he got angry and hit me. It just got worse from there and he eventually kicked me out. He told me that he would call me when he was ready to but I told him not to because I was breaking up with him. Whether he’ll respect my wishes or not, I told him to act like he never knew me and to stay away from me. I just don’t know how that’s going to work if he decides to stay at McKinley. You know how persistent he is.”

“I’m sorry Kurt. I know I said I thought you guys were forever but I never liked how he treated you. Like you were his property and I should’ve said something. Maybe if I had then it wouldn’t have gotten this bad. I’m so sorry, I should’ve realized…”

“It’s not your fault Sam,” Kurt assured Sam, cutting him off med-sentence. “It was mine fault actually. I knew what he was doing was wrong but I didn’t stand up for myself. I didn’t call him out until tonight because… I thought that maybe I could change him or that it was just a phase. I thought that if I broke up with him that… I would never find anyone else that would love me. I guess I never found that person in the first place though.”

Kurt continued crying while Sam held him until Carol, Finn and Burt came into his room. Carol had a bunch of boxes with her and placed all of them on her bed. Finn had a banana and gave it to Kurt who looked at it like it was poisoned.

“You feeling any better, kiddo?” His father asked him and Kurt nodded his head. “Good, you’re doing great,”

“Okay, so I have an ace bandage for your wrist,” Carol said, holding up a box of bandages. “And then I have an ankle brace, it may be a little tight but that’s for the best to help keep everything in line and like I said, a boot will be your best option. You ready for me to wrap everything for you.”

Kurt nodded his head again and Sam let him go so he could face Carol. “Now all of this shouldn’t be as painful as earlier with your ankle and I’ll try my best to be gentle but let’s get this over with, okay?”

She kept her word when she said she would be gentle. She slowly wrapped his wrist and then slipped the brace onto his ankle and Kurt was relieved to find that the pain was only a seven out of ten.

“There, all done,” Carol exclaimed when she had finished. “How does it feel?”

“Fine,” Kurt told her and Carol nodded her head.

“Good. Now I need you to eat that banana so you can take this Tylenol. At least half of it so you can keep it down.” She said, pushing the banana and two pills towards him. “You can do it honey and then you can go to sleep, alright?”

“Okay,” Kurt said and he managed to eat half of the banana like Carol had told him to so that he could swallow the pills.

“Alright honey,” Carol said once he was finished. “I’m going to leave you alone so you can sleep now. You wake one of us up if you need anything okay?”

Once again, Kurt nodded his head and Carol gave him a hug before taking all her supplies and leaving his room. Next his dad came over.

“Night son,” His dad told him. “Hope you feel better tomorrow and just… get some rest and take it easy.” His dad awkwardly patted him on the back before leaving his room like Carol had and Kurt was upset with himself for being the reason behind his dad’s weird behavior.

The only two people left in the room were Finn and Sam who took their spots next to Kurt on his bed again. They sat there in silence, all trapped in their own thoughts. Finn and Sam didn’t want to leave Kurt alone and Kurt didn’t want to be left alone but no one knew how to go about saying it. Finally Kurt spoke up.

“Can you guys stay in here tonight?” He asked them. “Only if you want to, I just don’t want to sleep alone,”

“Of course,” Sam said, smiling along with Finn and Kurt laid down in his bed while Sam laid on to his right and Finn to his left. Kurt snuggled up against Sam and Sam wrapped his arms around Kurt while Finn did the same on the other side. Kurt felt safe in their embrace and let his tears fall down his face once more while he fell asleep. Things couldn’t get any worse than they already were… right?

[briarmarred]

(  timothee chalamet  ,  twenty-two  ,  cis male  ,  he/him  )  *  fun  fact  about  me  ?  okay  ,  let’s  see  .  .  .  i spent more time in rehab after key biscayne than out of it  .  crazy  ,  right  ?  i’m  briar marlowe  ,  i  live  in  my family’s massive neoclassical italian-style villa mansion on ocean lane here  in  key  biscayne  ,  &  not  to  brag  ,  but  my  family’s  worth  around  $825M .  pretty  decent  for  luxury hotel and resort chain owners  ,  huh  ?  we’ve  been  around  for  some  time  ,  but  in  town  ,  everyone’s  always  associated  me  with  the  gatsbys  ;  but  it’s  not  like  that’s  my  whole  identity  ,  or  anything  .  while  filming  for  key  biscayne  ,  it  was  surprising  when  i’d  get  dragged  on  twitter  for  being  “  cold  ,  aggressive  ,  &  holier-than-thou  ,   ”  but  the  cameras  don’t  see  everything  ,  &  my  real  fans  know  that  i’m  nothing  but  perceptive  ,  protective  ,  &  tenacious  .  i’m  not  too  bothered  by  it  though  ,  because  since  the  series  ended  ,  i’ve  published a novel under a pseudonym .  follow  me  on  instagram  @briar.marred  to  keep  up  .  ✎  rose  ,  22  ,  she/her  !

what’s up, y’all? i’m rose, rich kids rps are my trash, i have depression and i’d say i’m 60% dysfunctional, but that’s nothing compared to briar here ! he’s high key trash and i can’t wait to tell you all about him ! the skinny is under the cut, and i’ll be making a plotting call on discord shortly. 

statistics. 

full name. briar elias marlowe.  age. 22.  birthdate. december 25, 1997.  gender + pronouns. cis male + he/him orientation. bisexual.  hometown. key biscayne, fl. 

biography. 

yes, briar was born on christmas day. his mom called him a gift. despite all evidence to the opposite, she still insists briar is precisely what she deserved. 

he’s the youngest of two children, his older brother being called windsor, who is... probably a bit of a sociopath. essentially, briar takes after their mother, windsor takes after their father. 

their mother was chronically depressed, in and out of rehab her whole life. she’s definitely bought plenty of goop products, believes in alternative medicine and has tried every spiritual treatment out there. she’s fucking somewhere, probably in an ashram in india about to be inducted into a cult. 

their father is exceedingly cold and an incredibly cutthroat businessman, the ceo of basically the four seasons of this world. it’s still privately owned by the marlowes, and has a top-tier reputation. i just realized i have yet to name it, so i will call it, the marlowe. ta-da. 

anyways needless to say briar didn’t get a whole lot of love in his childhood. he was a quiet and introspective kid, very snl’s wells for boys. his older brother is a dick. briar was often left alone to his own devices. he broke into the house wine cellar at age 12, started smoking at age 13, and it’s been downhill from there.

on key biscayne, i mostly see him as like the gloomy intellectual bad boy. like people thought he was cool for like five seconds until all the viewers realized he’s an annoying mess. honestly, reality tv stardom was the last thing he needed. 

as his fun fact mentioned, basically ever since key biscayne ended and briar all but trashed the marlowe family reputation for being such a self-absorbed addictive drama queen, he’s been to rehab longer than he’s been out of it. and, at the start of this rp, he’s recently come out of rehab again and is basically forced to stay at his family home on ocean lane. his entire family is basically travelling all the time, so he’s all alone. 

oh yeah and he wrote a book while in rehab, under a pseudonym, e. e. gilmore. it’s like kind of a social commentary but also kind of about monster fucking ? very shape of water. anyways it’s now a new york times bestseller and briar has ...... extremely mixed feelings bc expectations ???? he hates those. 

personality. 

capricorn sun, scorpio moon and rising. i got a migraine just writing that he’s so annoying. 

intp and enneagram type 4 if you care abt that kind of thing

stubborn as FUCK and dramatic as ALL HELL. 

though i will maintain he’s pretty fucking funny. he’s very self-aware and has like the most deadpan, bleak sense of humor. there are definitely some gifs from key biscayne that still get circulated of just him saying in confessional, completely monotone, “i’d rather eat my own f***ing eyeballs than see that.” cut to that happening, and pan to briar staring directly at the camera as he mimes jabbing his eye with a fork and popping it into his mouth. morbid, but that’s him. 

he’s not the type to start drama for fun, but he is the type to self-sabotage and create drama for himself. 

is, as of now, kind of trying to stay clean ? but that won’t last for long. he still drinks wine like it’s all gonna expire and is two pod a day juuler. yes i said two. 

is extremely emotional but if you ask him about his feelings he’ll be like. what feelings? literally both tian and david in that one vine. 

“you ever wanna talk about your emotions, tian?” “no.” “i do.” “i know, david.” “i’m sad.” “i know, david.” 

wanted connections. 

The Ex. definitely became a least favorite on key biscayne when he fucked this person over. he’s bi, so any gender please apply. 

other exes. because he’s messy and definitely has more than one. 

brat pack. a pack of people he makes just awful awful decisions with. 

former best friend. briar has burned a lot of bridges in some ugly, ugly ways, so let’s tear each other’s hearts out with this! very rue and lexi from euphoria teas.

frenemies. they’re basically just assholes to each other for the fun of it. very much this energy.

fwb. briar is three things: messy, sad, and horny. 

enemies. i tried to be more specific in naming this connection but like … briar is not the easiest person to get along with. he definitely has a whole lotta enemies.

[vampcubus]

Expectations (Lucio/Reader)

a/n: lmao this mess of a fic oof, written before lucio’s route was finished and a bit of an older writing style so be wary! 

synopsis: being the count’s magician was one thing, but his lover...? you find yourself smothered by your insecurities whilst trying to live up to your new title.

warnings: sfw, angst, self-doubt, lucio not knowing how to comfort people™

words: 3.8k+

You were never the type to worry too heavily about your appearance, seeing as not many people bothered to notice you before you’d been invited to the palace. Back then you were just the Count’s Magician, and the only things the servants thought of you was how mysterious you were. Though, now that you’ve been lavished in such rich attention, been exposed to the luxury of palace living and self-image, you couldn’t help but feel… plain.

Plain, boring, nothing special. And yet you had captured the attention of your polar opposite, the lascivious, prim, perfect, and pretty Count that had swept you off your feet and into one big mess. You were still at a loss about that, even after the mess had been cleaned and, your blooming courtship with the arrogant Count had polished you to what he called “perfection”. 

Every day it seemed a servant was at your door with expensive silks and jewels to bury you in, dressing you up like a queen. Nevermind the way all these things clashed with your style, what was more important is that you didn’t belong in them. You belonged in comfortably well-worn clothes that rarely matched, dancing with your uneven skirts with Asra as your inexpensive jewelry glittered and clinked cheaply against your neck. And yet here you were, being dolled up like royalty and given the most beautiful things to wear every morning to compliment Lucio’s own choice of dress that day.

You carded your gold-ringed fingers through your hair with a sigh, taking in your reflection in the floor-length mirror you stood before. You held the dress up to your chest, still on its hanger, and untouched since it arrived. You smoothed the skirts over your legs to eyeball how it would the fit, and you guessed pretty well, but again you sighed and tore yourself away from your reflection, laying the beautiful garment on your bed and making your way into the oversized bathroom attached to your room.

When you’d first used it, you’d almost leaped right into the tub, your clothes still in the air as you tipped into the warm water eagerly. Now the size and elegance of the room swallowed you in its hugeness, and not in a good way. Still, you changed into your bathrobes and stepped into the warm water, soothed by the heat, and yet distressed by how comfortable it was. 

You could still remember hanging up beach towels out behind the shop to act as curtains as you and Asra splashed one another with buckets of lukewarm water, using your magic to rinse the dirt and the grime of a good few days worth of traveling.

You never stayed in the water long, simply dipping your body into to wash your skin and hair before you were toeing out of the heavenly pool of scented luxury and drying yourself off with too-white-and-too-soft towels.

You make the mistake of catching your reflection in the mirror above one of the vanities as you were tying a dry robe around your nakedness. You stopped to stare for a while, watching the tiny drops of water drip from your still-damp hair down your forehead, past your boring eyes, and plain features into the crevice of your chapped lips despite all the spa treatments you were offered. 

Shaking yourself out of it before you could get carried away, you blinked your eyes a few times as you made your way back into the bedroom. You couldn’t put it aside any longer, you had to get dressed. Sighing to yourself for what felt like the thousandth time, you gingerly lifted the intricately embroidered garment and let the silk robe fall from your hips onto the floor in a pile of expensive fabric.

A few hiccups and a bashful call for a maid to help you lace up, you stood before the mirror in a full-length, ballroom dress, a bloody, crimson in color with many black and gold embellishments. The chill of Prakran gold around your neck and dangling from your ears, similarly intricate gold bands around your wrists that bit lightly into the flesh.

You stare into the mirror, drinking in your appearance, the dress is indeed beautiful… but…

You sink to your knees in front of your reflection, the skirt of the crimson garment pillowing around you as you slide down until you’re seated gracelessly on the panels of the floor, your still heel-less feet buried beneath the heap of fabric. 

You close your eyes as the familiar dread creeps into your chest, and suddenly you’re back in the shop, looking hastily in the mirror as you smooth down your colorful skirts. 

Faust is corded around your forearm, and Asra is just across the room adjusting the strap of his satchel.

“Pretty!” You hear Faust squeak, and you can’t help but chuckle turning on your heel to slip into a pair of chunky sandals. Asra turns and you just about toss a sandal in his direction when he careens back and laughs.

“Here, let me help,” The magician teases as he skirts around the bed to adjust the straps thrown clumsily over your shoulders and roll up the insanely longs sleeves to your elbows, Faust slithers up to your shoulder to dangle around your neck glancing upside down at Asra as he rights your dress. “There, now are you ready?”

“Yes.”

You and the ivory-haired boy danced the night away while you were at the autumn festival, looking ravenously at the many food stands that were set up down the street, a bread-shop drawing the both of you in almost immediately after arriving. You left with a few boxes of freshly-baked goods, and shamefully lighter coin-purses. 

You remember waking up in a tangle of both of your limbs, your skirts, and Faust the next morning, the makeup you’d worn still smeared across your face as you and Asra made breakfast together.

When you open your eyes again, you are met with the devastatingly dolled-up version of your reflection. As if on cue, you hear three crisp knocks sound from behind the door and an all too familiar voice all but singing to you through the wooden barrier.

“Pet, you know I loathe when you keep me waiting~ have you tried on the new dress I had commissioned for you?” You hear Lucio’s voice call, and your heart sinks into the pit of your stomach at the thought of leaving your sanctuary now. The Count was always delighted to see you dressed up in the things he picked for you, and normally you quite enjoyed his attention but you didn’t feel like being showered in compliments right now. Not even his. 

When you don’t respond, Lucio takes it upon himself to open the door and waltz in anyways. you can just barely see his reflection approaching, but you can clearly hear the clicks of his heels against the floors of your bedroom. He seems to be taken aback by your position on the ground, and even more so when you don’t even turn away from the mirror to look at him as he enters. 

And you’re not the only one who knows how much he hates not being the center of attention, in any circumstance. As you meet his black-lined eyes in the mirror it looks like he was going to open his mouth and say something smart about, or joke about how gorgeous you look on your knees, but it dies with his breath when he realizes that you are upset.

“Whatever is the matter, Dove? Do you not like the dress?” Lucio inquires with an almost incredulous look on his face as he speaks, inspecting the expensive garment with wandering eyes, trying to nit-pick out any reasons why you might not like it. You only shake your head and shift your gaze to your hands folded in your lap. Lucio purses his lips into a thin line, as if deep in thought, “Well, then what is it that troubles you?”

“I feel out of place,” You sigh, there was no use in beating around the bush, so you decided to be bluntly honest, even if you doubted he’d understand. Actually, you fully expected him to laugh at you like the very suggestion was absurd. “Don’t laugh.”

You don’t know why you felt the need to say it, nor the reason why your eyes start watering. Why were you crying? There was no reason for you to be, and yet you felt the salt bubble beneath your eyes an start to drip leisurely down the side of your face.

Lucio is frozen in place behind you, at a complete loss of how to proceed. He wasn’t sure what brought this mood swing on but he certainly knows he doesn’t like the solemn look you now wear.

“No one is laughing, my dear, I assure you that,” The recovered Count assures, but you don’t miss the hesitant lilt in his voice as he speaks. Clearly, he’s never been faced with the task of comforting someone, and it shows because he’s not very good at it. 

He isn’t eager to get on the floor with you, but he leans down just enough to place both hands over your shoulders, the sharp points of his golden fingers trace up your neck and take a hold of your jaw, tilting your head from side to side.

“I don’t see what the problem is, you fit me quite well.” Lucio purrs, his breath suddenly close to your ear, and you normally would have laughed at the potential double meaning of the phrase, but you find you don’t have it in you.

“A pretty face, good bone structure, healthy complexion… and I don’t think another can fill that dress as well as you,” Your face is heating up quickly, compliments were still quite alien to you, and therefore even the smallest ones had you breathless and redder than the sun. “I truly can’t imagine why you feel out of place, Pet.” All things considered, he thinks.

“I can conclude that you’re nothing short of ravishing—”

“Stop.” Comes the sudden solidity of your voice as it barks the order, and Lucio only looks down at you with raised brows. And then his lips twist into a sultry grin, the edges of his golden fingers tracing the contours of your face.

“Why? you should feel privileged to be receiving such praise from—”

“Stop.” Your voice shakes as you say it this time, you twist out of his grip and return your gaze to your lap, where your gold-ringed knuckles are going pale with the pressure. Your body shakes with an involuntary choke of a sob, even though you try to contain it.

The Count looks more than shaken up bearing witness to your unusually emotional state, and even more so that you are refusing not only his touch but also his thought out words of empowerment. How rude. His eyes narrow and his lips scrunch into a pout, irritation flaring up in his chest upon being ignored.

Before he can open his big mouth to complain about you being difficult, you’re seething out a question he isn’t prepared to hear.

“How can you even look at me—” You’ve never been particularly sensitive, so this mental breakdown of yours was surprising you even more than it was him it seemed. “—and say those things?”

“Like…” You waved your hand, searching for the right words, “Like you mean them!” You sobbed, finally burying your face in your hands, embarrassed and angry at the way you’d so easily melted into his praise before as if he’d meant a single word of it. You knew better.

Lucio baffled and speechless is a sight to see, in fact, it almost makes you want to laugh, even if only bitterly. He is forced to quickly come up with plan B, something he’s never had to even waste a single careless thought about before meeting you. Flattery obviously isn’t working, so he’ll have to try something else. Something in the very back of his mind is tugging at the strings for his attention, murmuring something along the lines of “honesty”, and Lucio scoffs at the word.

“I disagree, I am many things, but I am no liar—” Lucio starts and you whip your head around with an angry, accusatory glare, and he snaps his mouth shut wisely. “Okay, so maybe I’m not entirely clean, but I do mean it when I say I never settle for anything less than perfection. And why would I? I mean look at me, do you think someone this beautiful is going—”

He trails off from his self-appraising rant when you sigh and turn away from him again, disinterested. Lucio deflates slightly, eyes darting around as if looking for something else to sway you with, though comes out of it empty-handed. The Count lets out a frustrated grumble of something you don’t quite catch underneath his breath, and he rolls his shoulders with a distasteful grimace and a deep breath as if he’s trying to push himself to say something.

None too quietly, he steps around you so he can unceremoniously—and a bit clumsily if you do say so yourself—drops down to sit beside you in front of the mirror, flicking a stray dust bunny from the bottom of his boots with a mildly disgusted grunt. You find yourself constantly glancing at him in the corner of your eye as he fiddles with the fur along his cloak, though you avert your eyes as soon as he realizes it.

“Forgive me, I’m not good at this sort of thing,” That much was already obvious, you want to say, that is until it dawns on you that he just apologized. Him, the most self-centered, and entitled person you’ve ever met, apologizing and admitting he wasn’t the best at something. When you shift your eyes over to him, he seems to be stealing glances every five seconds, looking to you for some sort of guidance. 

It’s a little frustrating that you already find your anger starting to subside, seeing as he truly had no idea how to go about helping you, and even openly admitting so—or well as close to it as possible, it is Lucio after all. It’s strange how watching your lover struggle to do the simplest of human-like things makes you sympathize with him, given that he is the reason you’re upset in the first place. 

But could you even say that much was true? I mean it can’t be entirely his fault if you’re feeling self-conscious, even if he constantly preached about how high his standards were, he’s never truly forced you to wear lavish things. If you constantly allowed it, how’s he supposed to know doing so makes you feel like you aren’t appealing in anything else than gold and expensive silks? You sigh, defeatedly, you didn’t want to make it seem like you weren’t still frustrated with him but at the same time, it seems silly for you to play hard to get because you’re sad and insist he figures it out on his own. You weren’t that girl.

“I know, I’m just—ugh—having a bad day I suppose,” You relent, rubbing the back of your neck that’s grown stiff from being titled down too long, “I just—It’s hard for me to believe that you even… that you could have anyone in Vesuvia you want, and you want me.” You sigh, leaning back on your palms and meeting his eyes in the mirror again. 

He’s letting you speak, and he’s listening, for once. Encouraged slightly by that revelation you continue, “And I just don’t know If I can live up to this spontaneous, perfect, and gorgeous person you’re always saying that I am.” 

Lucio looks a bit startled that you’ve been doubting yourself like this, he hadn’t known that you were taking all his ramblings of perfection and high standards of living and relationship goals to heart like this. 

Expectations. If there’s anything Lucio knows well, it’s that, if his childhood had anything to say about it. Back then he had constantly tried again and again to impress his parents, especially his mother. But he was never good enough for her it seemed, she was always disappointed in him throughout his early years as Montag, someone he hasn’t been for a very long time.

“Oh Darling, you should’ve said! I’m not as really particular as I say, you don’t have to go out of your way to impress me—” He frowns distastefully and sounds just a bit embarrassed when he adds, ”—especially considering that I was a blubbering, dead goat for three years with no purpose, and you still put up with me.”

To that, you can’t help but chuckle, and the Count’s playful grin returns in full, his ego soaring to have won you over with his charms once again. He couldn’t blame you, he was irresistible. You could almost hear how loud his grin was, and despite it being anything if not shit-eating you’re comforted by it returning. 

You had to admit, looking lost wasn’t a good look for him.

“Aaannd that you’re still insufferable now, and I put up with you.” You add with a sly grin, watching his face twist into a pout, he hmmph!’s and crosses his arms as he turns away.

“You don’t have to milk it, Dove, you should be happy I went so far as to insult myself for your own entertainment!” The count argued, giving you the stink eyes as you only continue to laugh at his expense. He can’t deny that his heart feels a little lighter now that you seem to be your old smiling self again, even if he is offended. 

Though he does feel the need to say,

“You’re beautiful you know that, don’t you, darling? Even without my... fashionable influence.” He quipped, but you could tell he was being genuine.

If only he knew how attractive he was when he was being sincere.

You don’t agree with him but bump his shoulder with yours affectionately, a smile creepingly itself onto your lips as his human hand slithered around to grasp your side and pull you in closer against his broad figure.  

“You sap.” You tease, but he’s not taking that for a proper answer.

“Nooo, I wanna hear you say it, come on! I deserve that much at least!” He whines, both arms capturing you within their grasp and dragging you into his lap as you squeal, tugging at his arms as your back pressed against his front. 

His nose buries itself into your neck, and he nuzzles fluttering kisses from your shoulder to your jaw, and you squirm at the ticklish feeling of his hair against your pulse.

“You don’t deserve shit!” You’re nothing but giggles now because he starts attacking your sides with his fleshy hand, and you can’t stifle your squealing laugh as you try in vain to squirm away from his tickling. “Knock it off—pff aha-hah!—L-Let me go, wretched goatman!” You seethe through your teeth as the giggles continue to spill from them.

“Just say the magic words and will gladly release you, sweetling,” You hear Lucio purr into your ear as his teeth just barely graze your shoulder, pulling small bits of your smooth skin between them to leave light marks wherever he went. 

You didn’t last long.

“Okay—okay! I get it, I’m great! Imma fucking magical goddess of your dreams—now let me go!” You shouted in defeat, cheeks burning with color from not only laughing so hard but because of the satisfies hum he vibrates onto your skin at your submission of power. He releases you suddenly and you only tumble back into him, knocking you both onto the floor in the process.

“That’s all I wanted to hear.” Lucio teases breathlessly as he lays flat on his back with you draped over him as you caught your breath. You huffed and turned yourself over so you could face him without actually getting up and off of him, planting your elbows against his chest to lean your chin against her palms and smirk down at the blonde.

“You’re insufferable, I can’t stand you sometimes I swear.” You jab, mouth twisted to feign irritation, though the way the corners of your mouth keep twitching up to resist give you away immediately. The count’s grin only widens, he didn’t need to see your expression slipping to know that was a bunch of shit and you loved it when you had moments like these. He sure did anyways.

“No, you love me.” You want to laugh in his face and say ‘Hogwash, you’re despicable’, but you refrain despite the temptation because he’s not wrong. And he did just go out of his way to cheer you up you supposed.

You lean down to peck his lips with your own, pulling away much too soon for his liking but he makes no effort to chase you.

“Unfortunately,” The smugness of the smirk he gives you once the word leaves your mouth is almost enough for you to enact your revenge and tickle him while his chest is puffed out so much, but instead you add, “but you’re still not off the hook yet, you still owe me dinner after yesterday’s episode, Lucio.”

Long story short, the count got sloshed yesterday evening with some guests, and you ended up dining with the courtiers instead, not an ideal experience. And on top of that, you had to drag an annoyingly drunk Lucio to bed, listen to him getting personal with the waste bin and then the toilet afterward because some ignorant servant let him have whiskey when can't stomach it at all.

Nevermind the fact that Lucio is a whiney baby whenever he gets that wasted and demanded you feel sorry for him because he couldn’t handle his alcohol.

“I don’t recall—” You smack his cheek none too lightly and he looks like he’s just remembered something, “Oh, right… that.”

“I said I was sorry,” He pouts, arms wrapping around you as if to somehow sway you and sweet-talk his way out of this. Though your stern look shoves whatever smooth talk he had in mind right back down his throat, he knows better than to try and negotiate with you. “Alright, I give. What did you have in mind, dove?”

You smile a devilish, sinister smile and Lucio looks a bit nervous beneath you.

“The shop, we’re gonna cook our own dinner, together.” Lucio groans dramatically and his head falls back onto the floor with a thump, obviously not thrilled since he couldn't be bothered to even think about cooking for himself. He wants to complain, but he thinks back to the little bits and pieces of last night he could remember where you’d put up with him almost the entire night. Stupid whiskey, stupid friends getting him in trouble...

“Fine, I suppose that’s fair.”

[meowmixtape]

Sinbad of the Shores

Rating: T

Pairing: AiJunko

WC: 5,786

Summary: While out of the manoir de mort for a beachside performance Ai wakes up from a dream to new feelings about Junko. But these aren't feelings she hasn't had before. After mourning the past and bemoaning the future Ai finally seeks safety in Junko and they get heart-to-heart.

FF AO3

"Aphrodite had the beauty; Zeus had the thunderbolts." -Esther M. Freisner

Mizuno Ai sat on a beach towel gazing out toward the sea. It was calm today and the waves rolled slowly, broken only by two girls playing in the water close to the shore. One of them was her friend and groupmate Sakura. The other was another groupmate and her girlfriend Konno Junko.

A voice next to her piped up: "You know that scene –" Ai jumped and turned to see Saki sitting next to her "– in cartoons where two guys are stranded on a deserted island and they're starving and one looks at the other and he turns into a turkey feast with waves of deliciousness coming off him?"

"Yeah. Everyone knows that one. What about it?"

Saki grinned. "That's kinda how yer lookin' at Junko right now."

Ai looked away. "How do you know I'm looking at her?"

"'Cause if you were lookin' at Sakura like that we'd have a problem." Ai heard a popping sound and when she turned back she saw Saki cracking her knuckles. "Do we have a problem?"

"No."

"Good." She smiled and sat back.

Ai hugged her knees and hid the lower half of her face in them. Her eyes were back out toward the ocean. Toward Junko. Was I really looking at her with such a perverted face? Sure, what happened last night was weird, but she was over it. She was!

The average person cannot help what they dream about, but Ai was not the average person. This wasn't a point of pride, either. She was a frequent lucid dreamer. And when she dreamed last night of showering she was very aware of it. She felt the stream caress her face, the water pelt her body like hot bullets, and she thought, Oh, when was the last time I had a nice hot shower? The ones in winter were always the best. And then: Is Junko in here?

"Mizuno-san."

Ai's gaze swung from the showerhead and there she was. And in that weird way dreams can be sometimes she could see everything and nothing at the same time. Lucidity faded and Ai was then fully in the lap of whatever god is appointed the duty of dispensing dreams on the sleepers.

Until then Ai had never dreamed of sex.

Out in the water Junko and Sakura continued to swim and splash and play. Ai supposed most people would find Sakura sexier, but she liked Junko more. Her body was more delicate and gentle, her skin pale and soft, her… well, chest…

Stop it! Don't get those thoughts again!

Her tummy…

This isn't you anymore! Enough!

Ai was so consumed with her own thoughts that she didn't notice Junko duck underwater. She didn't come back to reality until moments later when Saki called out, "Had fun out there?"

"Yeah!" Sakura called back. She and Junko were walking towards them. "The water's great. Why don't you join us?"

"Maybe later. I just ate."

"Ai, look what I found!" Junko held her hand out.

"Woah!" It actually managed to knock away all thoughts of sex and perversion. "A conch shell! I've never seen one!"

"Really? Haven't you ever been to the beach?"

"I have, and I used to go shell-hunting, but I never found a conch shell! Wow!" Totally impressed, she took it and turned it over in her hands. It was yellow and spiky and everything. She couldn't believe she was holding this. Can't help being a Pisces, I guess.

Similarly affected, Saki said, "Put it to your ear and see if you can hear the ocean!"

Ai did. Its currents whispered. Noticing Saki's demeanor, she said, "Do you want to listen too?"

"Yeah!" Saki took it and held it up. "Oh, I can hear it!" She smirked at Sakura. "The ocean says you're hot, babe."

Sakura kicked sand at her.

Ai frowned. It was just like Saki to come right out and say stuff like that. Ai never could. If she did Junko might get upset or disgusted. Or worse, she might laugh.

Ai held the shell back out to Junko.

Smiling, Junko shook her head. "It's yours."

"Really? That's okay?"

"Mm-hmm. I was going to give it to you anyway. I saw it and thought of you."

Ai's stomach fluttered and her cheeks prickled. She looked down, finding refuge in the shell, safe from Junko's open smile and wet body. "Th-thanks." She found herself wanting to kiss her. Between her affection at this gift and her tumultuous feelings she felt ready to kiss Junko a lot. It would have to wait until they weren't in public.

If only it didn't. I feel ready to have her right now.

Oh, would you stop it!

Junko was reapplying her sunscreen, as were Sakura and Saki. This was Kotaro's plan for waterproofing: reapply every ten minutes. They had a performance here tomorrow, and after what happened in Ureshino he wasn't taking any chances.

"Ai, can you get my back?"

Want me to wash your back? Junko had asked that in the dream and Ai had let her until one thing led to another and they –

"Sure." Ai took the spray can. Stupid dream. She hated it.

After the sunscreen was reapplied Junko hoisted a pail and asked Ai if she wanted to collect beach rocks. Ai said yes. They started off down the beach. It was mostly empty as by now kids had gone back to school. It was August and dog-hot. Ai was certain that if they weren't wearing waterproof SPF 130 sunscreen they'd both sweat their makeup off.

"I love beach rocks," Junko said. "They're pretty colors and they feel so nice. I wonder how they got that way?"

"Abrasion and resistance," said Ai. "Rocks collide with each other and sand smooths them further. As for the color, it depends on the minerals in the water, but most stones are made of quartzite, granite, slate, pumice, and marble."

"Wow. You know a lot about rocks."

"Well, my dad was a geology professor." She itched an eyebrow and looked down. "And I did some beach rock collecting of my own."

"You like the beach too?"

"Yeah, I love it." She wasn't loving the heat, though. It was clouding her thoughts a little. Or maybe it was that dream. She was trying not to look at Junko in her black swimsuit too much. She wanted to. Seagulls were squeaking overhead, and the deliciously salty air breathed with the waves' movement. Ai loved the beach and she loved Junko. Yet, here she was unable to enjoy them to their fullest. It sucked.

"It's weird we've been – you know – for this long but we haven't talked about our families." Junko giggled. "We have a lot in common. We both love the beach and we both have parents who are teachers."

"Your dad was a teacher too?"

"Mm-mm. My mother was. She was a music teacher."

"She must have pushed you hard."

Junko drew her lips in and nodded. "Some pushing was involved as far as my singing went, yes. But she did it out of love for me and I love her for that."

"No wonder you're such a good singer."

"Aw," Junko muttered uncomfortably.

Silence passed. Occasionally the two of them would stop to scoop up rocks and drop them in the pail. A track of sweat got into Ai's eye and she tried to rub it out.

"That heavy?" she asked when she saw the pail was three-quarters full.

"A little. But I'm fine."

"Let me take it." When Junko hesitated Ai held out her hand and said, "Go on, I'll be okay."

Junko forked it over. "Thank you." She briefly put her hand on Ai's back and that alone was enough to bring those thoughts back with a vengeance. She couldn't help it. She had never felt Junko's hand touch her skin-to-skin there. Let me wash your back. Oh my goodness. Oh, Ai!

"Oh, Ai, look at this one! It's beautiful!" Junko bent to grab the rock. She didn't stoop, she bent, giving Ai a good view of her derriere. In her heat-and-lovestruck state Ai couldn't look away. Her eyeballs grew heavy as red and black dots dazzled in her vision. She was floating. She was sinking. She was both.

"It has all the same colors as us. We can put it in the practice room – Ai? Ai!"

Ai had fallen face first in the sand. To her right was the pail, its rocky contents scattered. To her left was the conch shell.

Ai surfaced quickly after, but by then Junko had run off. All good, you know, it wasn't like she could salvage this embarrassing situation in the best state of mind. And right now her state of mind was horrible at best. She had just enough mental awareness to beat herself up. I fainted. I actually fainted over Junko. I'm like some ditzy shoujo manga protagonist.

Consciousness ebbed and flowed. She felt her body being lifted up and carried. Voices clanged in her throbbing head.

"Dehydration, you think?" Sakura.

"Prolly. Hot as balls out." Saki.

"B-buh…" Junko's voice. "She was out in the sun for a shorter time than I was."

Saki: "Weak."

Cool air kissed her face and she came back up again. They were carrying her through the inn lobby. People gawked. The woman at the front desk asked, "Is she okay?"

"She's fine," Saki said. "She just needs water."

"Sorry," Ai slurred at the woman. She knew nothing sold your comfy inn like a semi-conscious person being dragged through the lobby. Somebody call a bellhop, we got baggage here. See, that would be funny if they were staying at a Western-style inn. She was really failing at everything today.

A doorway passed overhead and the cotton of her futon rose up to her back. Sakura and Saki appeared above her.

"Feeling okay?" Sakura asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Sorry about all this."

"Face it, Ai," Saki said. "You're just doomed to never have a good time."

"You have boogers in your nose." It was true. She could see them.

Saki showed her her middle finger.

Sakura disappeared and returned with a bowl of water and a towel. Ai heard splashing, dripping, and then felt a cold wet towel laid on her forehead.

"Here," Sakura said. "Drink this."

Yes. Water.

Eyes closed, Ai took the bottle. She opened them.

Oh, what the hell.

"A baby bottle?"

"It's so you can drink without sitting up!" Sakura said, beaming proudly. "My brother used to do it when he got sick in college."

Thanks. I'm humiliated and I have a gross mental image. Still, it was with good intentions and Sakura did help carry her, so that snide remark would have to go in the unsaid file. "That is pretty clever. Thank you."

"Oh, no, happy to help. You want us to stay and keep you company?"

"You don't have to. I might nap as long as I'm here."

"That's the spirit!" Saki said. "C'mon, Sakura, let's get some yakitori. I'm starving."

"Didn't you just eat?"

"I get bad mileage. My gut's like a Canyonero bike."

Their voices faded out of the room and down the hall.

Holding the towel to her head, Ai sat up a little and looked around. The room was empty. She lowered herself back down and grabbed the bottle. Stared at it. Glared, more like. Deciding thirst was priority, she sighed and did something she likely hadn't done since 1993. And, drinking, she thought maybe Sakura and her weird brother were onto something. This was nice and convenient, even if she felt stupid as hell.

The AC kicked on and that plus the water gave Ai a little energy. She lurched up to the closet, grabbed a robe, and donned it.

After laying back down she got to thinking about the myth of Aphrodite, Greek goddess of sexual attraction. She wasn't looking for Mr. Right; she wanted Mr. Right Now. Aphrodite's legend began with her emerging from the ocean to shore and ever since everyone's private parts never again knew peace. Wasn't the ocean a perfect symbol for sex? Wave upon wave crashing against the stone piers of some girl's pride and stubbornness.

If Junko's Aphrodite then I'm goddamn Sappho.

The door slid open and light, quick footsteps stuttered inward. Ai smiled. She knew those footsteps. They moved toward her, cloth rustled, and the bowl of water blooped, sloshed, and dripped. The cold wet towel landed slowly and gently on her forehead.

"Hi," she said.

Junko squeaked. "You're awake!"

"Yep." Smiling, Ai opened her eyes.

Junko cleared her throat and smoothed the end of her robe. "How are you feeling?"

"Much better."

"Good."

"Junko?"

"Hmm?"

"I love you."

"Oh, Ai." Junko brought a curled hand to her mouth and giggled. "I love you, too." She leaned downward and kissed her cheek. Ai liked when she kissed her cheeks. It felt so sweet.

"I'm sorry," Junko said.

Ai was so wrapped up in the sweetness that the apology sounded outrageous. "For what?"

"For not paying attention. If I had been I would have noticed that you were tired and hot and thirsty, and I would have gotten you out of the sun before you fell over. I get too wrapped up in things and…"

"You're not at fault, Junko. I could have said at any time that I wasn't feeling well, but I didn't."

"I really don't think you're to blame, though. Maybe neither of us are."

"Yeah, maybe."

Junko then said, "Weather does not seem to like you very much."

Ai snorted. "No kidding. My dad had me focused on the ground when it was the sky I should have watched out for."

"See, I had the opposite problem…"

Ai gaped at her, then burst out laughing. That was the first time she had ever heard Junko crack a joke about her death. Junko joined her laughing. Ai loved the sound of their laughter. She loved Junko's laugh, and she loved being able to be a part of it.

Their laughter died down. They looked at each other for a moment and then got laughing again.

"I guess I missed on helluva joke," Saki said as she entered.

"Not really," Ai said, wiping her eyes. "Just Junko doing what she does best – keeping me grounded."

Junko snorted and turned aside, shaking.

Saki stared at them, then said, "Uh, okay. Well, anyway, we're gonna tell ghost stories in the other room."

Ai looked at the clock. It was seven already. The sun was still out.

"You guys wanna join us?"

The two of them looked at each other. Then they looked back at Saki and shook their heads.

"Hmph. Couple of zombies afraid of ghosts. Suit yourselves, scaredy-cats." And she left, closing the door behind her.

They were quiet a moment.

"Um," Junko said. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"Is there a reason you're drinking from a baby bottle?"

Ai could feel her heart snap as it kicked up into her throat. "It – it's so I can drink laying down! It's very convenient!"

Junko nodded, looking more than a little weirded out.

"It was Sakura's idea!"

"Oh. Is this what everyone's doing nowadays?"

"No, boomer, it's not. We might be the 'entitled' generation –" using the e-word made her mouth taste like throw up "– but we can sit up to drink if we're feeling well." Ai sighed, pinched the bridge of her nose. "Now can I ask you something?"

"Yes."

"Do I…" She took her hand away and looked at her. "Do I seem childish to you?"

Junko shook her head. "No. Why would I think that? If this is about the bottle I thought it was strange more than childish."

"Well, I mean, you're about the same age as my parents."

"Your parents are nineteen years old?"

"No. But you would be around their age if you lived. I'm not saying I look at you as like a mother, but sometimes I wonder if I should."

"You said if I lived. But I didn't. I died and now I'm nineteen forever. I don't look at you like a child because I've never had children, and I didn't know anybody with them. I guess I can see how you'd see your parents in me, especially if they used a lot of lingo and liked a lot of things from the 70s and 80s. But if you look at the way things are instead of what they could be, the difference between us age-wise is three years. No mother and daughter have that age difference."

"Yeah." And as the words sank in, smoothing the worries off her brain and airing it out, Ai nodded. "Yeah, you're right."

Junko smiled and laid her hand on Ai's. "Don't worry, I've thought about the same thing. I thought, 'If me and Ai were alive, why, I'd look like a real freak. Some old hag who's past her prime and looking to reclaim lost youth by taking advantage of some girl.'"

"There's no lost youth, though." Ai sat up and her towel fell off. There was a gray smear where it had soaked off her makeup. "You're still young."

"Exactly."

"Also…" Ai leaned forward, her eyes locked with Junko's, and tilted her head. She smiled. "I'm not so easily taken advantage of."

Junko hesitated, then leaned in and kissed her. Ai leaned into the kiss, her hand coming up to Junko's cheek. It was hot. Hers were as well. Her heart was drumming away. If it wasn't anchored to her chest she supposed it would just fly right out. Every soft stroke of Junko's lips sent intense sensations all the way down to her toes. When they broke off the kiss Ai let out a deep breath.

"I think you're feeling extra-affectionate tonight," said Junko. Ai noticed that she was also breathing quicker.

"You think right. I am." Months ago such a conversation would have embarrassed Ai, but they were closer now so it wasn't so bad (but still a little nerve-wracking). "I love you. I'm glad I met you like this." Unable to help wanting more, she kissed Junko again.

"Feeling's mutual," Junko said before giving Ai a kiss of her own. When she pulled back her eyes drifted downward, popped wider, then darted toward the ceiling.

Do you think about it, Junko? Ai couldn't ask her that, but she couldn't help feeling like that downward gaze confirmed it, confirmed that Ai wasn't the only one between them starving on a deserted island. Do you ever feel anything like what I've been feeling?

"We're alone," Ai said.

"We are. Um, Ai, do you… I mean, do you w… want to…"

She trailed off, but Ai thought she knew what she meant.

"Have heppei?"

The second that left her mouth she regretted it.

Junko recoiled. "He… h-hep… Hep…"

In Japanese the common term for copulation is sekusu, unless you come from a certain part of Hokkaido.

"I – I had no idea you were from Akita."

"I'm not! I'm from Ueno! My dad's from Akita, the way he talks rubbed off on me."

"Your father talked to you about… that?"

"Yeah, yeah, he always told me and my sister to stay away from boys because they were lying dogs who only wanted hep – sex." If it wasn't bad enough that the man had to give such embarrassing lectures to his daughters he had to use that scummy word, that word that made any decent civilized person in Japan feel slimy inside. And now the real nail in his coffin was Ai was here saying it in front of her beautiful decent civilized girlfriend.

"Oh. Well, he was probably saying that to protect you."

Ai grunted.

"Anyway," Junko said, "that word aside, that was what I was going to ask about."

"If I want to have sex?"

Junko nodded, blushing.

Feeling like a cyborg in a certain 2004 film, Ai asked, "Do you?"

Junko fidgeted with the sash on her robe. "I – I've… I've never… done it before…"

"There's nothing wrong with that."

"I guess." Junko scratched the back of her head. "I don't know why I think that matters when neither of us have."

"I have, actually."

"You what?"

Ai flinched. She hadn't heard Junko yell that loud in a while.

"When? With who? How?"

"Okay. I'm not going to tell you about this if you keep looking at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like – that." Ai gestured toward Junko's face.

"This is my listening face. I'm listening."

"That is not your listening face."

"It is."

"No, girl. This is." Ai motioned around her own face, which was set in a neutral expression. "This is how you're looking at me." She popped her eyes and mouth open.

"Well, sorry." She didn't make the listening face, but it looked a bit less like she would call her… whatever they called girls who did it back then. Hussy. Jezebel. Jesus, you may as well go all in and call her a slut as long as you're being judgmental. "I just never saw you as the type. Not like you're childish, mind you, but straightlaced."

"Gaylaced, more like." Before they went out Ai would have rolled her eyes so hard at such a joke.

Junko smiled at the joke, then asked, "Where'd you find the time?"

"There wasn't much of it, admittedly. But we lived together, and it wasn't like we were in a relationship."

"Who was this girl?"

"Nina."

"Your groupmate?" The You-Hussy-You-Jezebel face returned.

Ai cocked an eyebrow. "And you are…?"

"Right. Sorry. If you weren't in a relationship though how did it happen?"

"It just… happened."

Junko shook her head. "That sort of thing doesn't just happen."

Ai sighed. She was getting that feeling of being pulled again. But not under by passion. It was back by years. The undertow of time claimed her as she told Junko how it happened.

The year was 2008. It was the end of June and the Tokyo Pride Parade was coming up. Iron Frill's producer decided to tie this in with the announcement of his wife's pregnancy in a way he hoped would show the girls his paternal caring.

"I'm hoping it'll be a boy," he said. "We already have a boy, and if you have a girl after the boy there's a chance she'll turn out funny."

The other girls nodded, but Ai wasn't buying it. "Funny how? Funny as in no arms and legs?"

He glared at her. "That is not funny, that is tragic, and you should feel bad for implying that it's funny. I mean funny as in…" He sighed, turned his eyes upward, then shook his head. "You know what I mean, right?"

Ai shook her head.

He looked at her pityingly and said, "I mean funny as in she'll turn up to the pussy-eating parade that's going on this weekend."

"Gross!" one of the girls exclaimed.

The producer behind Iron Frill knew the industry in and out, but he wasn't terribly articulate. Usually lack of articulation comes with a quiet personality, but this fellow had the opposite problem.

"A faggot could dance better than you! You're just a bunch of club-footed dykes!"

The other girls shrugged their shoulders or giggled. He could have called them communists or vampires; they were insults, yes, but unless these girls drank blood or espoused anti-capitalist ideologies they could never have understood the sting of recognition or the fear of discovery.

Well, most of the members of Iron Frill were like that. Taimajima Nina was not. A tall girl from Shibuya, Nina tended to look away when talking to girls, shifting her eyes upward as though she were studying the weather conditions. Like Ai, she didn't seem interested in anything this man had to say. While working together on song lyrics one morning the producer tore the unfinished work out from under the two of them and exclaimed, "What are you, a pair of dykes who can't write prose?"

Ai had laughed out loud at his stupidity. If there was anyone who could write prose, it was a dyke. It was the other girls he had to watch out for. She saw Nina laughing too and soon they took to mocking this producer, referring to each other first as dykes, then as "stinking dykes." They were "lazy dykes" and "sunburned dykes" before they became "dykey dykes." They couldn't protest the word as that meant acknowledging the truth in it. The most they could do was embrace it as a joke. Embodying the term in all its cliched glory, they called each other "Dyke-oneesama" and straightened pretend neckties, played at lit club members who cried in the most ridiculous over-the-top fashion over Iseiaisha-senpai, an imaginary girl they made up purely for them to discover again and again that she was (cue sob) straight. Dyke, as a word, was always delivered in a harsh and unforgiving tone befitting those weak and stupid enough to act upon their impulses. They used it as a joke, an accusation… and then as a dare.

Late at night Ai would hear the futon next to hers swish, Nina's breath quickening. Either she was masturbating or having a terrible nightmare. Is it me she's thinking about? Ai would follow her lead and wake up the next morning to find their futons had scooted a good nine inches away from where they originally lay. Their love had the power to move futons.

Having no willpower, they relied on circumstances to keep them apart. This cannot happen was accompanied by the shift of sheets whispering, Oh, but maybe just this once. There came an afternoon when, running late to practice, they found themselves alone in the apartment. What started off as name-calling escalated into a series of mock-angry slaps. They wrestled each other onto the futons, both of them longing to be pinned. "You kids think you invented sex," her father was fond of saying. But hadn't they? With no instruction manual or federally-enforced training period, didn't everyone come away feeling like they had discovered something unspeakably modern?

What produced in others a sense of exhilaration left Ai with a mortifying sense of guilt. She remembered sitting cross-legged by the futons, staring at her clasped hands, her back to Nina, who was napping. This was more than a stupid mistake. This was a huge one. This wasn't the sort of mistake you could come back from. The joke was stripped away and all Ai had that afternoon was reality. What dyke could bring dreams and inspiration to her fans? What dyke did every little girl want to grow up to be?

Earlier that year word got out that a seiyuu idol (a Legendary Heisei Idol in her own right) had had a few casual flings with the guys in her band. She had been branded a whore and canceled. If that was the punishment for a girl and a guy Ai imagined the punishment for two girls involved a wooden frame, samurai swords, and lingchi.

Whatever fear and humiliation Ai lived with was apparently lost on Nina, who afterward took to her side at all times. And since at the time Ai believed in opposites attracting, she let her coax her into a few more mistakes. With each mistake Nina grew closer and Ai grew warier.

"Christ, Nina," Ai whispered as they ducked into an equipment shed. "We have to be backstage in fifteen minutes."

"That's enough time." Nina pulled her shirt off. Her breasts jiggled fetchingly in her bra, but this time Ai finally found it in herself to not be fetched. It was raining out. They both stank of rain. If you could still sleep with someone who smelled like that your libido was either very good or very not good.

Nina came in for a kiss. Ai jerked her head aside.

"Not in the mood?"

"Yeah, no, I'm not," Ai said.

"Nothing you can do about that then." Nina stepped back. "I guess we shouldn't go on stage tired after an orgasm anyway."

Do you really like sleeping with me? She must have, considering how many times in the past month she had approached Ai to do so. But after each mistake she would go right to sleep. Oh, she would wake up and then wax romantic and philosophical about their relationship. But first came the sleep.

"Nina, I don't think we should do this anymore."

She froze in the middle of bending to grab her shirt.

"It's just a bad idea. Everytime we do this we get closer and closer to getting caught. Someone could be outside this very shed."

"They're probably not."

"Probably's not good enough."

"Oh, Ai." Smiling, still shirtless, Nina stepped toward her and put a hand on her face. "I know how you feel about all this, but I think you might be worrying too much."

"If you knew how I felt you wouldn't think that!" Ai backhanded her hand away. "If you knew how I felt you'd know that what happened should have only happened once! I do not want to do this anymore!"

"Well, why not? They hate us! We need each other!"

Why, Ai thought, couldn't I have waited for her to put her shirt on before I went in? She looked so sad standing there in her Hawaiian print bra.

Nina tried to grin, but in her state it looked more like a grimace. "Think of how mad they'd be if they found out about us."

"They're plenty mad enough about us existing. Think of how mad I'll be when we're out of a job. You think they'll still be mad when they fire and blacklist us?"

"Well, we'll still have each other. Isn't living well supposed to be the best revenge?"

"Yeah, if you call that 'living well,'" Ai said and Nina flinched. Great going, Ai. Why don't you just punch her in the face? Would be faster and easier.

"So it's about the money."

"No, Nina, it's about me liking myself more than you."

"That's bull. I thought you loved me."

"I don't."

Nina seemed to get smaller still. Ai felt the same way. She had ripped off the proverbial Band Aid, yet she didn't feel any better. Maybe, she thought, there were hings she shouldn't have said that afternoon, things she would have to apologize for. And she would. In due time she would.

"What did Nina-san say when you apologized to her?"

"I didn't," Ai said. "At that day's performance I was hit by lightning."

"Oh my God." Junko's shoulders dropped; her whole body seemed to sink as if screws holding it together had popped off.

"So yeah. That's how it happened."

Junko sighed and looked down. Silence spun out. It wasn't bad silence. In it they grew closer. Ai thought of Nina, but she thought more of Junko, how she had snapped at her over a simple "I love you." Junko had said she thought Ai was too straightlaced to deal with crap for too long. Ai presently fought back laughter at that. The opposite was true: she held her tongue until she exploded. At least this time all she did was faint. There was no yelling but instead the two of them talking to each other like normal people. I might be getting better. But maybe next time something's on my mind I should come right out and say something.

"Sex makes everything complicated," Junko said. "Someone told me that once."

"They were right."

"They also told me – oh, how do I say this." Junko got a bit red. "That once you start having it you can't stop having more."

"They're right about that, too. That's partly why I stayed with Nina for as long as I did."

Junko looked at her. "I don't want that to happen to me. I don't want what happened to you and Nina to happen to us."

"I don't think it will. You're different than her."

"But what if sex changes me and suddenly I'm asking you to do it fifteen minutes before we're due backstage?"

The idea of Junko turning into a sex maniac was incredibly tickling, and Ai almost laughed. "If that happens I'll say no, but we'll still be together. Because I like you more than Nina. I love you."

Junko smiled. "I love you." Then she said, "But what if I'm bad at it?"

"Didn't you learn anything from that porn you saw?"

"Ai!"

She laughed. "Sorry, sorry. You won't be. It'll be good as long as it's with you. That's what I think."

Junko's eyes were on hers. They were such beautiful eyes. Ai loved them. They pulled her in, blue and irresistible, until the were kissing. When their lips met Ai felt it all over her body. Chasing emotional with physical, she pulled Junko close. The kiss deepened, becoming so good and so hot that Ai didn't want to come up for air. And while kissing her, she thought, Wherever I am she meets me there. She's so good to me. She had always worried she and Junko were a mess together, but talking about Nina made her realize what true messiness looked like. Junko wouldn't morph into a sex maniac because that wasn't who she was but also because that wasn't who she was. She didn't make people give up things about themselves in order to gain her love.

God, what do you do with someone like Junko? Ai was at a loss. She gives me so much and I guess all I can give her tonight is a better first time than I had. She wanted to make her feel so good in herself that everyone worldwide, even the people who hated her, would quake in pleasure.

Ai started to nudge Junko onto her back.

A collection of voices screaming exploded like a cold snap in sultry summer instead of winter and they flew apart.

But the room was still empty.

Then Ai remembered. "Ghost stories."

"Yeah." Junko's chest was heaving. Her robe had rucked up, exposing her thighs, and she yanked it down. "Thin walls."

They sounded like cavewomen. Oonga oonga. Like heppei. Ghost stories. Thin walls.

"I don't want them to hear us."

They looked at each other and giggled.

"I guess we're waiting until some other time," Junko said.

"But Junko," Ai said, "I thought this was your sex addict awakening. Don't you want to insist on it?"

"Oh, you." She grabbed the bottle and tossed it at Ai's feet.

"I am so frustrated by your ability to leave me spellbound." -Pink Lady, Sinbad of the Shore

[everlarkficexchange]

The Virgin (Social) Suicides

WRITTEN BY: @ally147writes

PROMPT 85: Katniss makes unsettling discovery that everyone in her close and extended group of friends has dated at least once and sometimes even each other. Except for her. The “late bloomer” teasing (b/c she’s never even been kissed) stings. Older boy Gale crosses paths with group, finds he shares common interests with Katniss, they get together to hunt, leads to him casually inviting her out for a real dinner date. Not feeling desire but pressure to “get it over with,” she accepts. Peeta has regrets. [submitted by @567inpanem]

NOTES: I desperately wanted to have this complete, but uni conspired against me. A million thanks to our angel mods, @xerxia31 and @javistg for holding this exchange, and allowing the extra week 😊

This is parts one-and-a-half (ish?) of a (probably?) four-part story. I won’t be posting to AO3 or anywhere else until the rest of it is complete. Parts 2, 3 and 4 are all between 30% and 75% complete already, so hopefully it won’t take me too long to wrap up.

Unbeta’d. All errors are my own.

Rated M for swears and discussions of sex (or lack thereof)

Thom and Lavinia’s engagement party is a sedate affair, which Katniss never would have guessed. Whenever Thom or Lavinia were left in charge of planning anything, it always started with them drowning themselves in cheap beer at Abernathy’s, got a bit muddy somewhere in between, and ended in a trip to the hospital for someone to get their broken wrist or dislocated shoulder set.

And once, to the police station, to face indecent exposure charges.

The doing of their mothers, Katniss supposes. (Probably a smart move, considering the alternatives; no one’s engagement party should end in a holding cell). They’re perched by the string quartet, amongst a cluster of white rose bushes, their oversized, feather-trimmed hats knock against each other’s with every exaggerated, bird-like nod and squawking laugh they release, while their husbands make awkward small-talk by the fence overlooking the golf course.

How they’re out there like that in the sun, in dark suits and all, Katniss has no idea. She dabs a napkin across her damp hairline and peels her sticky skin away from the plastic of the chair. An afternoon in the sprawling gardens of the Snow estate, when it’s pushing a hundred degrees out, isn’t exactly her idea of a good day — if she weren’t part of the bridal party, Katniss would have skipped out hours ago. Add that to the cocktail dress she all but shoved her body into and the hair that’s falling out of her braid and sticking to her glossed lips, she’s about ready to revolt.

But, she concedes, Thom’s parents are loaded up to their eyeballs, and they’ve made sure there’s free — mercifully cold — booze everywhere, so bottom’s up.

The happy couple don’t seem to mind the heat, or the change in pace too much. The groom-to-be dips his laughing bride over his arm and kisses her square on the lips, swaying along to the soft tones of the violin strings, the intimate connection between them somehow the simplest thing in the world. The scene should inspire at least a smile — she’s happy for her friends, right? But it tugs somewhere deep at Katniss instead, unrelenting and unrepentant, leaving behind an odd sort of hollowness, demanding more yet leaving her starving for… something.

“They’re sweet together, aren’t they?” says Madge as she sips her champagne.

Katniss shakes her head, but she can’t stop the nagging in her gut. “Yeah, I guess. It’s a little sickening, actually.”

“You would say that, wouldn’t you?”

“What? They’re hunting for each other’s intestines through their mouths.”

“You are absolutely disgusting.” Madge swipes a celery stick from their shared crudité platter and nibbles at it like a rabbit. “Please stop speaking.”

“I’m still not wrong.”

“I guess it is kind of funny, though,” Madge goes on, chomping through the celery. “You’d never guess he could be so doting. I mean, when I dated Thom, the nicest thing he ever did for me was give me the olives off his pizza.” She sighs and smiles an odd little smile as Katniss’ hand freezes with a cherry tomato halfway to her mouth. “I guess it really does change everything when you meet the right person.”

“Wait, wait, wait.” She drops the tomato, and it bounces off the table and lands on the floor, where someone will slip on it later, probably her. “You dated Thom? As in, Thom, Thom?”

Madge arches a plucked brow. “Well, yeah, a while ago now, not long after we first started college. Well before Lav was in the picture, if that’s what you’re worried about. I thought you knew about it; we were all friends then.”

Katniss frowns and tries to dredge the memory — what would Thom have looked like then? Was this during his mohawk days, or after? “For how long?”

Madge quirks her head to the side, and not a single strand falls out of her intricate up-do. “I don’t know. A few months, maybe? Not a long time.”

Katniss taps her index finger — unadorned with polish, to Prim’s everlasting dismay — against the pristine surface of the timber table. “Is it… weird? Being friends with him now, I mean?”

Madge laughs. “Kat, if it was weird to hang out with someone I’d dated before, I’d have to find a whole new group of friends.”

“Why?” Madge smiles that weird little smile again, and the urge to slap it off is overwhelming. “How many of them have you gone out with?”

“Uh…? Let’s see.” Madge counts them off on her fingers, like there’s a real need to keep track of them. “Thom, Darius, Gloss. Leevy a couple of times, too, but that was over pretty much as soon as it started. Oh, and Peeta once, as well.”

Katniss chokes on a piece of cucumber. Oh, god. “Peeta, too?”

“Yeah. What’s the matter, Katniss?” Madge flashes another grin as Katniss knocks back a hearty sip of her drink. “Jealous?”

“No!” she exclaims. But without even meaning to, she finds Peeta across the courtyard, where he’s entertaining Lavinia’s many nieces and nephews with embarrassing Dad-style magic tricks. The sleeves of his starched, pale blue dress shirt are pushed up around his elbows, and there’s a rogue curl stuck with sweat against his forehead. He meets her eyes and smiles at her, as warm and tangible as a touch. Her cheeks flood with heat and she tears her gaze away. God, it’s like they’re in school all over again.

Madge shoots a grin Katniss can only describe as shit-eating, and it’s all she can do not to throw her remaining champagne in Madge’s face.

“No, of course you’re not,” Madge says, like she’s talking down a screaming child. “That would mean you had a soul or something.”

There’s nothing she can say now that wouldn’t incriminate her further. Katniss turns to the dripping glass of ice water at her elbow and drains it.

“Well…” she says, once she’s certain the nuclear blush on her cheeks is under control. “Why’d you only go out with him once?”

Madge smiles that stupid little smile again. The secret one Katniss has no insight to or context for.

“Peeta’s… very sweet. He’ll make the girl he’s got his eye on extremely happy.”

The words are innocuous, but something in Katniss seizes urgently. “Peeta’s got someone in mind?”

Madge nods and adds solemnly, “Has done for years now.”

“Years?” There’s no good reason why this information should make her want to break something. None at all. “Why won’t he make a move?”

Madge snorts, and the sound is weird coming out of someone so refined. “Honestly?” she says, as she flags down a waiter for another class of champagne. “I’d say he’s terrified. The girl isn’t exactly one who’ll take his declaration with open arms.”

She shouldn’t — she knows she doesn’t want to — but she prods anyway. “You know who she is?”

“She was pretty much the basis of our one and only date. He didn’t think he had a chance, needed someone to wallow with, that sort of thing.” Madge smiles a dreamy sort of smile and tips her eyes closed. “God, we got so drunk.”

“…And?”

“I’m not going to tell you!” Madge nudges her with her bony elbow, but the effect is ruined by the draping, bell-sleeves of Madge’s deep-aubergine dress. “Ask him yourself if you’re that curious.”

Yeah, there’s not a prayer in hell of that happening.

“So,” Katniss says instead. “Have our friends always been so… incestuous?”

Madge rolls her eyes and, for the first time since this awkward line of questioning began, looks vaguely annoyed. “Katniss, what’s the problem? I’m pretty sure Annie and Finnick are the only other completely monogamous people we know. Johanna’s dated pretty much everyone, too. Cato made the rounds too, before he got his shit together with Clove. Darius dated Lavinia, too, when he and Thom were roommates. That’s how she met Thom in the first place.”

“So… yes?”

Madge laughs and sighs at the same time. “It’s people in their mid-twenties being people in their mid-twenties. Honestly, I’m surprised you never noticed before — it’s not like Johanna’s discreet about it or anything — but I guess you’ve always been a bit…”

“A bit what?”

“A bit… I don’t know… pure, I guess?”

“Pure?” She spits the word out like poison and leaves it in the air.

Madge pats her arm. “There’s nothing wrong with pure, Kat. It’s just… we’re twenty-five now, you know? You don’t need to be so embarrassed about anyone else’s love life. Hell, maybe we should get you a nice date of your own, so you’ve got something else to focus on.”

Heat crawls up her chest and settles in her face. Her fancy cocktail dress feels way too small and way too hot.

“Uh…”

“Kat…”

“… Yeah?”

“You have gone on a date before, haven’t you?”

“I… uh… no?”

She’s not sure why it comes out as a question. She sure knows about her complete and total lack of love life; no need to have other people confirming it for her.

Madge’s jaw drops. “You’re kidding.”

“Why would I joke about that?” she retorts. “And we’ve been friends for how long, now? How didn’t you notice?”

“I don’t know! It’s just that…” She scrutinises Katniss like she’s a wayward science experiment. “Really?”

Katniss rolls her eyes. “Yes, Madge. Really.”

“Not even in college? No one? Nothing?”

“Is it so hard to believe?” Katniss snaps. “No, Madge. I have never, not once, ever gone on a date.”

 “Well, you’ve… you’ve at least had sex before, right?”

Heat fills her cheeks until she’s sure she’s about to melt from the pain of it all, though she’s got no idea why it embarrasses her so much. It’s normal, right? Or normal-ish, at least. And it’s not like she planned on it happening. Or not happening. Whatever.

Her virginity isn’t some sacred, precious jewel she’s carting around in a bubble wrap-lined basket. And it’s not something she’s hoarding, just so she can get down on bended knee and present it to The Right Guy when The Right Moment comes along. It’s not a personal choice, a feminist statement or even a religious one. The opportunity to do so just hasn’t… come up, so to speak.

And it’s fine. She guesses. Most of the time, it doesn’t even bother her. She’s had enough going on in her life that it isn’t something she’s missed, or even had time for. And it’s not like she’d be any good at any of it, anyway. The hand-holding. The intimacy. The kisses.

The sex.

The mere idea almost makes her shudder. She’d suck. And not in the sexy way.

It might be nice. Maybe. One day. When she’s good and ready to make it happen.

Until then, though…

“Uh…”

Madge’s bright blue eyes blow wide. “Katniss!” she shrieks.

A hundred people turn and stare at them, Peeta included, not even slightly helping her blush to fade faster.

“For the love of God, Madge, would you keep it down?” Katniss swats at Madge’s arm and hisses down at the table, “No, I’ve never done… anything.”

Madge lowers her voice to a harsh whisper. “Not even kissed?”

Right on cue, Thom kisses Lavinia again, long enough for it to get awkward. Katniss scowls and looks away. “No, Madge,” she mumbles. “Not even kissed. Or held hands. Or hugged or by someone who wasn’t an immediate family member.”

“What about yourself? Do you masturbate?”

“Fucking hell, Madge, really?”

“Okay, sorry. I just…” Madge gives a tight laugh and shakes her head. “I… You cannot be serious right now.”

“What part of this is so hard to believe?”

“I don’t know. I mean, you’re gorgeous, for one. A great person, kind, generous, brave, loyal to a fault. Anyone would be lucky, you know?”

Katniss snorts and drags a carrot stick through a warm bowl of hummus. Why couldn’t they have held the party indoors, like normal people? Yeah, maybe she’d still be getting the third degree, but at least the condiments might be cold. “Yeah, no. I don’t think so.”

“Well,” Madge starts, leaning in so they’re a hairsbreadth apart. “Have you ever… you know, wanted to?”

There’s no right way to answer that question. If she says yes, she’s as doomed as if she answers no. “I don’t know. Maybe?”

“Are you…” Madge stops, starts, opens and closes her mouth like a fish blowing bubbles. “Have you ever thought that you might be ace or something?” She holds up her hands and all but yells before Katniss can say anything, “Not that there’s… it doesn’t matter if you are or anything like that, I just thought… maybe you’re —”

“— No,” Katniss cuts in, before Madge can hurt herself. “I’ve had… you know, crushes and stuff before, I’ve just never been in a relationship, and I wouldn’t have rejected one if it came along.” She shrugs. “It just never did, and I’m okay with that.”

But, is she? God, and she’s always thought of herself as an enlightened, modern, don’t-need-no-man sort of woman, too.

“Honestly, Kat? You’ve probably been hit on a thousand times, but it never registered in your head that it was even happening to you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Just that… I don’t think you’re aware of the effect you have on people, that’s all.”

Katniss frowns at the wilting crudité platter. “You’re making me sound like a heartless bitch.”

Madge rolls her eyes. “Of course, you’re not a heartless bitch. I’m just saying you should… I don’t know… open your eyes a little, take a second look, you know? Someone might really surprise you one day.”

Again — completely against her will, she swears — she finds Peeta across the courtyard. This time, he doesn’t look up from pulling a coin from a little girl’s ear. “I’ll think about it.”

“You definitely won’t, but I’ll give you a pass for tonight.”

Katniss cringes. “You’re not going to make it your mission to get me laid, are you?”

“This isn’t a shitty eighties movie, Katniss,” Madge says as she pushes her seat away from the table and stands on her ridiculous four-inch heels. “So, no. I’m not going to try and get you laid. Now, let’s go dance or something; it’s a party, for God’s sake.”

XXX

The next time they’re all together, at a reasonable temperature and in normal clothes, Katniss surveys her friends with a strange, acute sense of awareness she didn’t possess before. Annie perched on Finnick’s lap, feeding him pretzels like coins in a slot machine; Cato and Clove with their arms wrapped around each other so tight it looks like it should hurt; Johanna and Bristel with their tongues so far down each other’s throats that they’re probably going to leave and do God knows what before their next round arrives. All of them know a sort of intimacy Katniss can’t even begin to fathom. All of them… except her.

And it’s… weird. Like she’s on the outside of a joke that’s been going on for years.

How are they all still friends? How is it all so… natural for them? Granted, it’s not like she’s got any insight to what’s going on in their brains, but it must be awkward on some level, mustn’t it? How can you share so much of yourself with one person, then pretend like it never happened? And then, how can you do it with four or five or maybe even more of the people you hang out with the most? Katniss can’t wrap her mind around any of it.

Only Peeta, sitting beside her, seems to notice her out-of-body experience.

He nudges her ankle with his foot beneath the table and leans in to whisper, “Are you all right, Katniss?”

She shivers at the warmth and scent of him, of cinnamon and dill and all kinds of other delicious things. He’s never smelled bad in all the time she’s known him. “Yeah. Just, uh… weird day.” She tips back her gin and tonic and almost chokes on it.

He nods, thoughtful, and takes another sip of his own drink, the only one he’ll have for the whole night. “That sucks,” he says, and she can tell he means it, too. He smiles, and another shiver races through her. “Wanna talk about it?”

She shakes her head. “It’s nothing. Just the usual.”

“Another drink, then?”

“I think I’m done for the night, but thanks.”

He shrugs and takes another sip. “No problem.”

“Hey… is it true you dated Madge?” She wants to punch herself in the face as soon as the words leave her mouth.

He almost spits out his drink. “What?” He coughs and thumps his chest with his fist. “She told you about that?”

“She just mentioned it. I had no idea.”

“It was… uh, a while ago.” He drags a hand through his curls and surveys her with something almost like worry. “What else did she tell you?”

“Not much. Just that you guys went out a couple of times —”

“— Once,” Peeta cuts in, a tendon in his jaw twitching. “We went out once. Years ago.”

“All right.” She holds up her hands in surrender. “Sorry for mentioning it.”

“No, Katniss —” He breaks off with a sigh and twirls the last of his beer around in the bottle. “Yeah, Madge and I went out. It wasn’t a big deal. We were both dealing with… I don’t know, shitty personal lives, I guess?”

“Madge said it was to forget a girl.”

Jesus fucking Christ, would someone please, please, cut out her tongue?

“I… uh…” He chugs back the rest of his beer in one feel swoop. Awesome, now he doesn’t have to watch her tear at her hair. “I guess it was kind of like that. I think Madge had just stopped seeing that Blight guy? It was… a while ago, that’s for sure.” He looks at her critically. “Why do you ask?”

She lifts one shoulder in a half-shrug. “I don’t know. Just, she mentioned it and I was… curious, I guess.”

His lips quirk into a hint of a smile. “Curious about what, Katniss?”

Yeah, her brain taunts her. Curious about what, Katniss?

Even if she knew, she’s got no clue how to go about admitting it to Peeta, of all people.

“I don’t know,” she mumbles at her empty glass. “Nothing, I guess.”

Now, the concern is back full-force. “You sure?”

Not really, but she’s not so sure why or what or how anymore. “Yeah. I’m sure. But I think I’ll take that drink now, if you’re still offering.”

He flags down the nearest server and says, “Yeah. I think I might, too.”