#augh!!!!!!!!! at least i feel a little closer to knowing what i want to do with myself :thumbsup:

[smile-files]

i should ask my beloved high school animal behavior prof how she got her way into the entomology world. cuz honestly she's been living my dream and thanks to her i've been seriously thinking about pursuing a career in lepidopterology

[itendtothinkalot]

its me or the ps5 (not literally)

summary: gamer bf beomgyu is in the midst of a lol battle with soobin but all u rly want is his attention :(((

genre: all fluff, no plot

characters: gamer bf!beomgyu x f!reader

words: not too many (i havent counted)

warnings: kinda suggestive but other than its pretty fluffy hehe

It had been hours since he last spoke to you. No, he wasn’t angry. No, he wasn’t upset with you. He was just really into his game.

You lay in bed, the soft glow of the screen casting shadows on his back as he sat at the computer, shouting curses between bursts of laughter. His words, loud and rapid, formed a jumble you could only half understand—it felt like trying to learn a new language, each phrase coming out as broken sentences.

“Something something, I’ll go mid, something something.” You managed to grasp this much.

You craved his attention. Sure, your last date was just three hours ago, but it wasn’t enough. He’d spoil you so much during the date that you’d gotten greedy. You needed him now—his attention, his hands, his words. But there he was, locked in with his favorite thing in the world: his pc.

“He missed me! Dude, he missed me!” Beomgyu yelled into the mic, laughing loudly. His fingers flew across the keyboard, the rapid clicking almost rhythmic. Out of curiosity, you peeked around the corner from your spot on the bed and watched him play. You didn’t really know how to play League, though you’d seen him at it plenty of times and had dabbled a bit when he’d offered to teach you.

Your body inched closer and closer, curiosity pulling you toward the screen. You could see his character zooming across the map, darting from one point to another. From what little you understood, he was doing really well—so well, in fact, that it made you feel even needier than you already did.

As you scooted inch by inch across the bed, you unknowingly reached the very edge. Before you realized it, your body slipped off, sending you tumbling to the floor with a soft thud. You let out a yelp, "AUGH!" The sound echoed through the room, catching your boyfriend’s attention. Beomgyu turned, eyes widening as he saw you sprawled on the floor.

"Baby, what are you doing on the floor?" His voice was laced with concern, though you could tell by the twitch of his lips that he was seconds away from bursting into laughter.

“Nothing.” You said, still on the floor.

He chuckled, standing up and making his way over to you. With a playful grin, he lifted you off the floor and gently placed you back on the bed. Leaning down, he gave you a quick kiss on the lips. “You’re an idiot,” he said, his voice overflowing with affection.

“Yours,” you agreed with a giggle.

“CHOI BEOMGYU!” A muffled voice shouted through his headphones.

“Shit. Coming!” he yelled back, giving you one last quick kiss before rushing back to his chair. As he put his headset on, he shot back, “Shut up. You’re one to talk, you fucking virgin.”

You chuckled, knowing they were probably teasing him about you.

You huffed, puffing out your cheeks in frustration. Falling wasn’t part of the plan, but at least you had his attention for a moment. Was that full minute enough to satiate your needs? No. You wanted him in bed, cuddling you and recounting his day—though you had spent the entire day together.

Your phone buzzed.

Soobin: get ur bf off the pc

You: ???

Soobin: hes annoying wtf

You: youre literally stealing him away from me u asshat

Soobin: hes literally rite beside u

You: men r so dense

Soobin: hes SAYING HES WINNING and telling all his friends that he won over me when he didnt

You: why are u so mad its just a game

Soobin: U SUCK

“Baby, is Soobin’s character dead?” you asked.

Beomgyu glanced over, lifting the left side of his headphones. The faint glow of the computer screen reflected in his eyes. “Did you say something, sweetheart?”

“Is Soobin’s character dead?” you repeated, a teasing smile on your lips.

He nodded, a focused look on his face. “Yeah, why?”

You laughed, turning back to your phone. “Nothing.”

“Is he texting you?” Beomgyu asked, a hint of jealousy creeping into his voice, though you probably didn’t notice.

You nodded, rolling your eyes playfully. “He’s just being annoying.”

“What’d he say?”

You shrugged. “Nothing much. He’s just talking about the game.”

“To you?” Beomgyu’s tone was sharper, and you looked up from your phone to see him fully turned toward you now. A far cry from just two minutes ago when he had been giving you only side glances. His complete attention was on you, a mix of curiosity and something else flickering in his eyes.

This piqued your interest. Was he jealous?

“Yes, Gyu. To me.” You laughed, placing your phone on the bed.

“Gyu?” His brows furrowed slightly, and you could see the shift in his expression. You knew that hit a nerve. He was expecting terms of endearment—baby, my love, sweetheart, darling, angel, daddy—but hearing just his name, the nickname you used when you were still friends, made him twitch.

“Gyu?” he repeated, a slight edge to his voice.

“Is that not your name?” you teased, a playful smile on your lips.

“No. Not to you.” He frowned, his focus shifting entirely away from the game. You watched as he pressed a button on his PC, the lights on his headphones flickering off. He had muted his friends, the sounds of the game fading into silence.

He took off the headphones and set them on the desk, then slowly made his way to the bed, his expression darkened as he approached you.

“Hm, really now?” You grinned, knowing you were reeling him in.

“To you, it’s baby,” he pouted, crossing his arms dramatically. “Why are you calling me by my government name?”

“Gyu is not your government name.” You laughed.

“Yes, it is. Y’know who calls me Gyu? My mother. Are you my mom?”

“No I’m not, Gyu.”

“You did it again!” He gasped, eyes wide with mock horror. “Evil has gotten to you. You’ve been hanging out with Soobin too much.”

“Don’t be an idiot.”

“Baby~” he whined, leaning closer. “Do you still love me?”

You rolled your eyes, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. “Aren’t you the one ignoring me for a game?”

“Ignoring you? Baby…” He feigned innocence, and you couldn’t help but laugh. “I stopped my winning streak for you. Now Soobin’s gonna go berserk, posting on every social media that he won. I did this for you.” His expression was a mix of exasperation and affection.

“No. You stopped because you got jealous of your friend.”

“Soobin’s gorgeous. You can’t blame me for being jealous.”

You chuckled, “Soobin’s gorgeous? That’s your defense.”

He nodded aggressively, “Yes! He is. Didn’t you have a crush on him when we were all just becoming friends?”

Now you were confused, “Huh?”

“You had this major crush on him, didn’t you?”

“No. No, I didn’t!”

“Yes, you did!”

“You’re making this up! Are you sure you’re not the one with a crush on him?” You accused.

“Look, he’s gorgeous and all, but… I’m into you. Specifically. If anyone asked me what my preference was, I’d say you. I���d always say you.” Beomgyu sighed, kneeling in front of you, resting his chin between your legs as he gazed up at you with earnest eyes.

You nodded, a satisfied grin spreading across your face. “Looks like I trained you well.” You ran your fingers gently through his hair, feeling the soft strands slip between your fingers.

“Mmf, play with my hair,” he murmured, sighing in contentment.

You always told everyone who asked that your boyfriend resembled a puppy—his big, expressive eyes and playful nature made it impossible not to think so. He loved being pampered, adored the feeling of your fingers massaging his scalp, and thrived any sort of affection you showered him with.

“You sure? You seem like you’re losing,” you pointed out, glancing at the game still unfolding on the screen.

“I don’t care,” he replied, waving a dismissive hand.

“Really now?” You tilted your head, curiosity evident in your expression.

“Mhm.” He nodded confidently. “I’ll let Soobin win.”

“That’s the first.” you said, raising an eyebrow.

He nuzzled his cheeks against your bare thighs, a playful pout forming on his lips. “Please,” he begged, looking up at you through his eyelashes.

“Sure, Gyu.” You teased again, a mischievous glint in your eye.

“Again? Really?” He lifted his head off your legs, feigning exasperation. “Do you want me to start crying?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you replied, trying to keep a straight face.

“Repeat after me. Ba…” He shifted above you, placing his arms on both sides of your legs, propping himself up so you were face-to-face with him. His eyes locked onto yours. His arms held your back, pushing you closer towards him.

You had been dating for years, yet it was almost excruciating how he could still make you feel giddy, even after countless sleepovers. The way he looked at you, the way he kisses you, the playful banter that never seemed to bore you.

“Ba…” You followed, grinning.

“By…” He leaned closer, whispering into your ear, his breath warm against your skin.

“By.”

“Good girl.” He pecked your cheeks lightly, a playful smile spreading across his face. “Now say it all together.” His face was so desperately close to yours, his eyes sparkling with anticipation, begging to hear the words.

“Baby,” you finished, your voice barely above a whisper.

He grinned, his eyes sparkling as he grabbed your chin, pulling you in for a deeper kiss. “Don’t forget that.”

“How could I?” you murmured, breathless under the warmth of his lips, your heart racing.

Lost in the heat of the moment, the two of you spent the next few minutes locked in a deep, passionate kiss. Your bodies pressed together, his hands exploring every inch of you, yet always remaining gentle. The intensity of the connection between you both grew with each second as each kiss grew desperate and needier, you couldn’t help but wish you could see him everyday.

You tapped Beomgyu’s arms as you both slowed down the kiss, exchanging gentle pecks between your playful conversation.

“Baby.” Peck.

“What do—” Peck.

“You think—” Peck.

“About—”

“Mmf, I can’t think right now.” Beomgyu continued, playfully pushing you down onto the bed as he showered you with kisses.

“Baby, this is important.”

“What could be more important than this?” he replied, giving you one final peck before falling beside you, entwining his fingers with yours.

“Well, what do you think about living together?” you asked.

“Hm?” His eyes lit up with curiosity.

“We're already always at each other’s places,” you explained, a hopeful smile playing on your lips.

“You just get smarter each day, don’t you?” he teased, propping his elbows on either side of you as he gazed down, admiration shining in his eyes. “Because I think that’s the smartest thing anyone has ever said. Even Einstein couldn’t figure this out.”

“Baby, it’s a yes or no,” you laughed, enjoying the playful banter.

“As if I’d say no to staying with the world’s most perfect person.” He scoffed in mock disbelief, a grin spreading across his face. “And imagine this: we could stay in bed all day after doing all sorts of things all night.” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

“Gyu…” you looked at him sternly, trying to suppress a smile.

“Again with my government name!” He exclaimed dramatically.

You rolled your eyes, unable to hide your affection. “I love you.”

“And I love—” He pressed his lips onto yours, silencing you with a kiss. “You.”

[sylvaridreams]

Inhales. You know what gets me when I think about Heart of Thorns. The anti-sylvari sentiment in-universe was SO real for a while there. During the period of time where the whole world of Tyria learned the secret that Wynne had died to protect, that sylvari came from the jungle dragon, that they were made to serve it. Everyone turned on them. Friends, lovers, commanding officers, it didn't matter anymore. They COULD turn mordrem at any time, so you had to assume that they would. You couldn't trust something that belonged to a dragon. Even Laranthir (of the Wild) right after the crash, being held captive by his own people, waiting for him to go feral and tear their throats out. The sylvari Commander was granted a little wiggle room, a little space to walk around freely, but it's all very conditional. Prove you're a good one, that you won't fall to the dragon. There's the event in Verdant Brink where they round up all the sylvari in a camp and ask you to interrogate them, to break them down until they confess to being mordrem. And inevitably a few of them are hiding among the camp, but an equal number of sylvari run from you in fear, more afraid of you and the Pact than the certain death of the jungle beyond. The other innocents that stay don't have a choice. It's keep your head down and don't say anything or be killed, one way or another, while the Commander that you've worked under for the past couple of years interrogates a crying novice, asking if they've heard a voice. And who hasn't heard the voice at that point? The Commander admits to hearing it too. Canach likens it to a buzzing fly. Irritating. Nothing more. Strong willed sylvari don't stumble when Mordremoth speaks. But even that's not true; maybe not everyone's played Heart of Thorns on a sylvari Commander, but the closer you get to the dragon, you start to falter, to black out and lose time. In its domain you actually do fall to it. Briefly. Just for a while, you forget who you are and what you're doing there, and mordrem start giving you killing orders. And you snap out of it and never tell anyone, never. They can't know how close you got.

But what GETS ME is that after the dragon is dead, no one talks about it. It all returns to normal. Like the tension was never there in the first place. I'm sure there might be some loaded quips about sylvari in Living World Season 3 right after, but the next time I actually can recall it coming up is in Path of Fire. Right as you get into Desert Highlands; Canach says something about "I always knew this whole human/gods arrangement wouldn't work out" and Kasmeer shoots back "This coming from someone with a DRAGON in their family tree." And that's that. No one actually really discusses it in-game. They all moved on and don't care if you're a dragon minion or not.

Which. Augh. WHAT!!!!! NO ONE CARES? I'm sure it's a better end-user experience than if everyone you encountered as a sylvari player was like "OOOOOH I DON'T TRUST YOUR TYPE... YOU WRETCHED DRAGON PLANT FOLK" but narratively it's a little boring. At least in the sense that it doesn't feel finished. There should still be tons of anti-sylvari sentiment in Tyria and propaganda spread to force them out of parts of society and stupid hoops to jump through to be considered safe. Just as I think that sylvari should still hold anti-asura sentiment--you're telling me their small second generation had a huge group taken away and tortured to death and there's no ingrained fear of it happening again? I want my sylvari commander to have met Gorrik in LWS4 and been like haha. uh. 😥 (do I really have to work with this guy. An inquest...) (and EVENTUALLY come to like and trust him!) instead of the game plowing over it like oh yeah don't worry about it n_n the facility exploded and all so he doesn't work there now don't worry n_n NO I'M WORRIED!-- again I'm sure that the smoothing over of Everything is a better end-user experience. rather than everyone you meet being rude to you or vice versa. However----💥 (I am killed by a sniper from a long distance so that I stop talking before I begin delving into the prejudices that are already baked into the narrative)

[felice-jaganshi]

My Fallen Apple

Lucifer X Reader

Chapter 5

He seemed distant all day, and you didn't know why. “Hey, Lucifer, what's wrong? You don't seem like yourself.” He had been looking out a window at the city, it seemed more on fire than usual.

 

“Hm? Oh, nothing nothing, everything's fine!” He tried to smile at you, but it felt fake.

 

“Does it have to do with whatever that ‘extermination’ thing was last week? What even was that? And why couldn't I visit?”

 

“Wait, you… you don't know about the exterminations?” He was shocked. “The yearly massacre heaven conducts on Hell.”

 

“The what?!” You look shocked and horrified. “No, no one's ever said anything about that!”

 

“Oh fuck. So they just keep all the rest of you in the dark when Adam runs his little slaughter brigade every year?”

 

“Adam runs it?! Oh God, that makes so much sense. That fucking dickbag. I've got to tell everyone! They have to know what he's been doing!”

 

Lucifer suddenly grabs your shoulders, “whoa, whoa! Slow your roll there. That's not a good idea! You could get actually kicked out of heaven for telling anyone! Then… then you'd be stuck here with me. Forever.” His eyes filled with hurt, “I could never do that to you.”

 

You take his hands from your shoulders into yours, “What if I wanted to stay here with you?”

A blush spread across his face, “wha- Becca, I'm married, remember?”

 

“And she's been gone for seven years without a word! Is she really coming back? Besides, you need a friend you can rely on. Someone who's got your back no matter what.” You held his hands a little tighter. He sighed and squeezed back.

 

“I should push you away for your own good… while I still can. But… honestly I'm tired of being alone. So if you really want to stay as a friend , you can. I'll take responsibility for you and you can stay here in my palace.”

 

“Thank you. I'll just have to go back once more and get all my stuff. Next week, I'll move in, and our weekly hangouts can be daily.” You smile and he can't help but smile back, 

 

“yeah, that sounds… that sounds nice.” 

Suddenly, his phone rang and he pulled away, “augh, that ringtone.. sorry this one's important. Work stuff.” He looked at his phone contact and grimaced at it. “Hooo, okay… you can do this, just the biggest idiot you've ever met, and your eternal beloath-ed.” He took a deep breath and answered the call. “Adam. What? You literally just finished. What could you possibly- a fucking meeting? You can't just say what your ugly- HE HUNG UP ON ME?!! THAT BITCH!!” Suddenly Lucifer grew horns and a tail, a little fire lighting above his head. You squeak and jump back a bit. His devil form was out and… you know… the more you looked at it, the less scary and the more… attractive it actually was.

 

After he was done cursing the phone, he turned and looked at you, confused by your staring till he realized his horns were out. “Ah… uh, sorry. This happens when I get too angry.” He returned to his normal form. “I didn't scare you, did I? I promise, I'd never hurt you, I'm not that kinda guy.” He held his hands out in front of himself, pleading with you.

 

You shook off the shock and stepped closer, taking one of his hands. “No, no, I'm fine. I just… that form looks really nice.” You're blushing, you can feel it. And he sees it too.

 

“Oh! Oh. A heh… Well, thank you for thinking I look nice! That's a nice ego boost coming from someone as pretty as you.” He then realized he said that out loud! “I mean I um, hey excuse me a minute while i call my daughter!” He then ran off to hide from you in the palace.

You roll your eyes, well, at least he thinks you're pretty. That's a good first step. Probably the most important step will be getting him to accept Lilith's not coming back… but that would be a hard one. Ten thousand years they were together for… just taking 7 years apart for a break was a drop in the bucket for that long of a marriage. 

 

Regardless, the next step was to move in and act naturally. Get him comfortable around you, enough to introduce you to his daughter. That was something you only do when fully committed to keeping someone in your life. Plus, maybe Charlie will help with the “get over lilith” campaign you were going to eventually need to run.

You decide to wander the palace and see if you could find where Lucifer had disappeared to.

 

It took an hour before you found him curled up in his bed.

“Lucifer? What's wrong?”

“I- I'm a bad father…” He was trying not to sob, tears in his eyes as his head peeked out from a burrito of blankets.

 

“Hey now, what makes you say that?” You walk over and sit on the edge of his bed.

 

“I called her and asked her to talk to Adam for me! I can't even take care of my own shit!” You sigh and lay next to him, pulling him into a tight hug. “Oh you silly burrito… there, there.” You pull the blankets back enough to free his hair and play with it. Eventually the waterworks stop and he starts to calm down, looking sleepy. You can't help but giggle a little, “Uh oh, is it nap time for hell's king? Come on, let's get you back up on the pillows at least.” You adjust him back up with ease and get him comfy before draping one of your own wings over him. He actually starts purring as his eyes close.

 

“Hm… you'd make a great mother.” He said sleepily, and your eyes tear up. You can't help it, and you keep playing with his hair. 

 

“Thank you… I tried very hard in life.” His eyes open back up, and he looks at you in a moment of wonder and curiosity, but decides not to bring up something that might cause you more pain. You two just enjoy a peaceful moment in each others company till you both fall asleep. 

[ebonybow]

oh so we can choose which blog to reply to posts from now but im still sending asks from my stupid dead blog. anyway sex pollen scargrian 👀👀👀👀👀👀 if u dont mind

Augh I KNOW pls Tumblr, catch up!!!

I have a whole bunch of this sex pollen written but it's mostly from the start of this year, and it needs some major rewriting because I feel like I didn't have a proper grasp on their voices yet. Premise: Grian falls into a weird spore blossom cave and comes home feeling unwell, and Scar checks in on him a few times, clueless as the sex pollen fever progresses.

Sex Pollen:

Grian’s various pieces of armor are scattered in the hall outside the bathroom, as though he’d flung himself into the shower or bath the moment that Scar had left the night before, though his elytra are neatly hung in their usual spot near the door.

And then, he finds Grian in bed in his room, tucked into the back of the base, bare shoulders peaking out from beneath his bedsheets. The air is stuffy back there, almost muggy with the windows closed, and Grian is asleep face-first in his pillow.

So Scar does the most sensible thing and checks if he’s still breathing, leaning in close.

“Scar,” Grian startles awake and Scar lets out a hoot of surprise, stumbling backward to avoid being headbutted. “Why? What are you doing here? Why?”

Grian's voice is rough with sleep and confusion as he clears his throat, blearily pushing himself into a more upright position in his bed.

“Checking you’re alive,” Scar intones, as cooly and matter of factly as he can. He’s definitely not distracted by just how shirtless Grian is, as he – seemingly self-conscious – gathers his sheets and pulls them close around his torso. 

Grian is– small is the wrong word, despite the height difference. Grian is strong. You don’t haul blocks around for hours on end every day without building some muscle. 

“It’s morning?”

“It’s morning. Your bedhead is adorable.” That’s a normal Scar Thing to say, right? “Anyway, you’re breathing, so. My job here is done.”

Grian's gaze visibly softens again at Scar's flustering, and he slouches back a little bit in the bed.

"No, sorry. Sorry. I'm glad you're here," he says, and it sounds like an admission. He's still so very pink-cheeked, a reflection of the night before, but now Scar can see that it goes all the way down his chest between his pecs. He looks warm. Hot. "I'm glad you checked in on me."

It's like watching glass fog over, the way Grian's eyes cloud, suddenly hazy. He licks his lips.

"You got any water on you?"

"Well sure," Scar says, slipping his pack off his shoulder to rummage through. "Have you eaten? I have, ooh, I brought an apple."

"You brought snacks?" Grian asks, sounding somehow weaker this time, eyes wide and glossy as he looks up at Scar, accepting a bottle of water from him.

"Of course," Scar smiles, and sets an apple down on Grian's nightstand, and a small tub with some watermelon. "Who else is gonna take care of you?"

Grian suddenly makes a strange and very un-Grian noise, like a choked-off whimper, lips parting on an inhale before he bites down on his lip. Of course Scar is staring at his mouth now. Of course he is.

"Uh huh," Grian says, suddenly intent. "Scar, I need you to fuck me."

Had Scar been looking anywhere but Grian's mouth, he may have thought he misheard. Except, he literally sees the words come out of Grian's mouth.

"You- huh. You want me to check that fever?" He says, moving to get up off the bed as Grian's hand shoots out to stop him. "I might have a thermometer back at my place."

"No, Scar, listen."

"You are clearly delirious."

"I'm not. I mean I am, probably, but listen."

It's not hard to break free from Grian's grasp, and Scar takes a step back to catch his breath. The room is stiflingly warm, even more apparent now than before.

"You- you want to take care of me right?" Grian  rises to his knees just to get closer to Scar again, clutching his bedsheets close over his lap to at least preserve some dignity, Scar assumes.

"Of course," Scar says, but it comes out weaker than he'd appreciate. The words have an entirely new meaning now but his answer is still the same.

[gh0stcav3]

“gonna add onto this bc fuck man i am feeling Emotions. i dont think Troy would ever say any of it out loud either, not to Lint, not to anyone. something something internalized homophobia and needing to keep up his image, even around the closest thing he’s got to a best friend. even if said best friend had already seen the image and mask he puts up crumble he cant let it fall away entirely. i love the idea of what lint feels being unrequited but i also love the idea of when troy says “sometimes i think about guys” he’s specifically thinking of lint when he says it”

GHOST I AM SHAKING YOU!!!!! YOU GET THEM SO WELL AUGHHH

Doubling down on Mayor Lougferd being a bad dad. One of these fights is about Lint and how hes a “bad influence” or whatever and thats when Troy snaps, he doesnt even know why he just does. Hes the type of person to say no homo unironically just because of what hes been raised on. Which leads to Lint. Lint would do anything for Troy, he’d accept as much as Troy is willing to give. Troy tries and tries to communicate his feelings even if he doesn’t want to put a label on it because hes afraid of losing the shred of respect his father has for him, it eats away at him because Lint is so full of love but Troy isn’t ready to accept it because he has to accept himself first. He beats himself up over it because “he shouldn’t be thinking those things about his friend, its wrong” but Lint is there for him and is so willing to make him happy and he finds himself falling but he cant put words to it because if he says it out loud itll be real and he cant escape it. And what would the press think? The mayors son, having a crush on a boy? Unheard of, unthinkable. His father would be even more disappointed in him.

Troy never says I love you back but he screams it with his actions, hoping to get them through. Hoping he never has to say the words. Because hes terrified to.

augh yeah dude ur so right. he cant say it, because what would happen if anyone else found it? how would that affect his image, the family image? he’ll absolutely try to show lint that he loves him and needs him, even if sometimes he falls short. putting up a front in public sometimes too, as even rumors can’t start up. you think he’d ever feel bad about it? not being able to show that he loves lint in the public eye? i dont think he’d ever apologize really, i don’t think he even knows how. but i do think he’d feel at least a little guilty. lint is practically the only person he cares about and yet unless its just the two of them he can’t show it. and even then its incredibly hard. and even though troy is shit at showing it i think lint would understand that troy needs him around. but to troy putting any sort of label on their relationship besides “friends” makes his feelings real, something he can’t run from anymore. so maybe he stands just a little closer to lint than necessary, maybe he always sits next to him when they’re in a group, things that would mean nothing and can prove nothing except to the two of them

[totiredtowrite]

hiiii since you were asking for drabble ideas i give you this:

sakusa emotionally distancing himself from reader because he's developing feelings and kinda scared but reader keeps pushing a friendly agenda until sakusa just gives up and admits that he's starting to fall in love.

if you don't want to write this just lmk and i might write it myself :P

anyhow, hope you have a great day/night!

augh 😖😖 it's kinda short and may be a little crappy but you guys deserve a fic at least once every 3 months 🚶🏽‍♂️ im like a neglectful father

Sakusa admits that he's been a little harsh to you. Of course he would never admit to being infatuated with you, but, well, he was. He didn't know why you were so intent on weaseling your way into his life, but it was starting to grow on him.

"Sakusa," you hummed, turning to pout at him. You had your head in your arms, hair all messed up. He grunted in response, not bothering to look at you. You sighed, chewing on your bottom lip. "Why do you hate me?"

He paused. Maybe he wasn't necessarily expecting that question, but given how he's treated you, he shouldn't be surprised. The feelings for you that brewed in the pit of his stomach felt eerily more like a horrible allergic reaction, so what other option than to push you away as harshly as possible? Though, when faced with such a question he wasn't quite sure how to respond. Did he even actually hate you? You had always found some way to be around him. He always said that he hated you, but he still accepted all of your requests to study together. He found his heart beating at your texts and his stomach curling in knots when you smiled. He never wants to see you hurt or sad, he wanted to buy you things and put aside his germaphobia hold you at night.

Sakusa being Sakusa, however, couldn't (or wouldn't) say it out loud.

"I don't hate you." He wanted it to sound reassuring, but it came out harsh. Almost like the question annoyed him. You frowned softly, shuffling in your seat.

"It's ok if you don't like me." You said softly. "I'd just prefer if you told me. So that I don't have to—you know. Guess."

Sakusa put his book down. "Guess?"

"Yeah. Guess. If you don't like me I don't have to keep hanging around you and annoying you."

He felt his chest start to get tight. Was this why you asked him here? Did he know how to answer you? Did he really want you to leave him alone? He must've been taking too long to answer, because to started to gather your things. "I'm sorry," you said, "I didn't mean to spring that on you. I should get home—"

"I do like you!"

...

"What?"

You stopped, watching him with surprise. He stood up and pulled your arms away from your back, clutching them in his large hands. "I like you. I don't know why and I despise it. I despise the fact that I can touch you and not want to rip my skin off." He moved his face in closer to yours, acutely aware of the tears brewing in your eyes. "I want you. I never want you to leave me alone." The words just spilled out of him like a faucet. It was decidedly very not like himself, but it was a little late to take it back.

Your gaze went a little hazy. "You really mean it?"

He rested his forehead against yours, dropping his voice to a whisper. "Would I be so close to you if I didn't?"

You smiled. "No. I suppose you wouldn't."

~

dont repost my work anywhere without my consent and don't steal it please; imitation is flattery, theft is not

[soleilsuhh]

stray kids reaction : you asking them if they love you.

[✿] — CHAN oh-so-casually says, “‘course i do; i love you very much — sometimes, a little too much even.” he gives you a playful grin and throws his arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer and pressing a sweet peck on your temple.

[✿] — MINHO is unfazed as he’s aware both you and him already know the answer to that clear as day. he jokes with a smile, “no, i just mildly tolerate you everyday.” but later, only when you least expect it, he slings his arm over your shoulders and says, “you know i’m in love with you, idiot.” when you stop and look at him, he just...smirks before ruffling your hair and pulling away.

[✿] — another member overhears the question and casually answers for CHANGBIN before he can. “augh, y/n, he’s so in love with you that it’s nauseating.” changbin looks at you with a blush but an assured smile present on his face as he laces your fingers with his and confirms, “it’s true,” he pauses, “not the nauseating part though,”

[✿] — the sudden question causes HYUNJIN to stop dead as he worriedly says, “of course i do; why? do you not feel the love?” only when you reassure him with a laugh that you just want to hear him say it, the smile returns on his face and he holds you close, whispering in your ear, “love you so much,”

[✿] — JISUNG doesn’t miss a beat when he replies, cupping your cheeks, “yes i do, although you’re a pain in the ass sometimes.” gleeful giggles escape your lips as you look at each other with beaming smiles.

[✿] — FELIX has a joyful smile on his face, the kind that crinkles his eyes. “hell yeah, what’s there not to love.” then this whipped boy taps every feature on your face, “i love your eyebrows, your eyes, your nose...” when he’s done, he proceeds to count his fingers, listing even more reasons why.

[✿] — SEUNGMIN replies immediately, “well, i eat your shitty cooking, don’t i?” he lets a joyous laugh escape his lips when you playfully hit him on the arms. before you can land another hit, he manages to catch your hand and holds it with both of his hands, eyes filled with light-hearted tenderness and an affectionate smile on his face, “i love you.”

[✿] — JEONGIN is caught a little bit off-guard and he looks away for a moment, trying to hide the blushing creeping on his face. but he couldn’t stop himself from facing you with a soft smile, “i do,” he simply says, interlocking your fingers together.

[disticfiction]

"Are you alright?" Milius asked as Cuthbert dragged himself across the floor.

"Oh, yes. Just tired. Taking care of a hungry baby without its mother is hard work." He rubbed the back of his neck, taking a deep, much needed breath. "I'm too old for this, Milius. I don't know what you see in me."

"We're not going to talk like that," Milius said, sternly. "You're not the only one feeling overwhelmed today. It isn't your age."

"Right, the refugees. I'm sorry. How are things looking out there?"

"Dire. We gave what food we could and things are finally starting to quiet down, but I think that's mostly because those poor people are exhausted. I have no right to complain in comparison." He smiled, suddenly, and stepped closer to cup the old man's chin. "But you do. I'd take food delivery over putting a baby to sleep any day of the week. Where is the little sprout?"

"In the pantry. It's better insulted. Keeps the sound out and the heat in, at least a little bit."

"Well, then. I guess we better keep it down." He leaned in and kissed Cuthbert's lips, and the old monk melted into his embrace before pulling away, abruptly.

"N-no, not tonight," he said, looking away. He was blushing, clearly aroused, but he denied himself. "Like I said, I'm too tired."

"Cuthbert?" Milius asked, sensing his conflict.

He sighed. "I can't ... do anything for you. Not tonight. My back, arms, and legs are all sore. I can barely move, Milius. It would be too one sided."

Milius smiled, warmly, then placed several soft kisses on the older man's neck as he pulled his collar down to his shoulder, exposing a patch of bare skin. Cuthbert moaned as he protested, but aside from grabbing the younger man's wrist, he didn't fight back. Tired or not, he wanted Milius. He wanted him to ravage him, kneading out the day's stresses, even if it was selfish.

"It's never one sided," Milius purred, and before Cuthbert could argue, slipped his hand between his legs.

Cuthbert groaned, quickly covering his mouth as Milius brushed two fingers over his sensitive clit. He was already wet, excited the moment his lover entered the kitchen, and Milius couldn't get enough of it. He watched as Cuthbert began to shiver, his tender nub puckering harder as the two digits relied on the friction. His robe was damp in places it wasn't meant to be, but Milius took advantage of that. As Cuthbert's knees instinctively spread, the younger monk attacked, forcing two fingers, wrapped in cloth, into Cuthbert's throbbing hole.

"Augh! Oh God!"

"Shh," Milius teased. "We don't want to wake the baby."

Cuthbert stumbled back, leaning against the counter as his crass, wool robe scratched his insides--and it felt wonderful. He was naturally loose, the result of decades of abuse, but whenever it was Milius, he clamped down, hard. It was different with him. It always had been. He grit his teeth, sweating profusely as Milius pushed to the knuckle, then began to pump.

"M-Milius..." the old man stuttered, his eyes heavy. "N-not so fast." It was maddening. He was barely stable, his hole pulsing defensively. "M-Milius, I mean it. I'll ... I'll cum!"

"That's that point," he giggled.

He pumped faster, deeper, twisting his fingers to make sure the material chafed Cuthbert in all the best ways, and it worked. After a few more thrusts, the old man whined, his toes curling and head arching back. His cries were airy and weak, but passionate, filled with distress; a distress that said his body had lost control, and that was perfect. His robe darkened even more, his fluids soaking through and drenching Milius' hand. Mercy. Finally. As he caught his breath, the younger man pulled out, giving Cuthbert a moment of peace before yanking the bunched up wad from inside him.

"Oh God, my hole!" he flinched, his muscles straining.

"Mmm, yes. Let's take a look, shall we?"

Playfully, Milius flipped the soiled robe over Cuthbert's legs and spread them wider, and what greeted him brought the upmost joy to his night. The older man's hole was red and convulsing, a tiny gape hiding beneath a strip of white pubes. His walls were terribly wrinkled, though neither monk was sure if that was because of his age or his sordid past, and his crease was permanently stretched, his folds distended. But as ruined and disgraceful as that cunt appeared, Milius loved every inch of it, inside and out. To him, it was beautiful. A work of art.

"P-please, don't stare..." Cuthbert blushed, his head spinning. "I hate it when you do that."

"I can't help it," Milius beamed. "It's just so ... devastated. I love watching your spasms. I love seeing how broken you are down here. And I love how, despite the damage, your hole is always praising me with those adorable winks. Do you have any idea how that makes me feel?"

"Milius, I--"

"You're a godsend, Cuthbert. Everything I want and more."

Cuthbert smiled, tears welling in his eyes. "Even though I'm so much older than you? Even though so many men have had me?"

"I don't see other men," Milius said, laying his lover back, comfortably. "I only see you."

"God, fuck me..." Cuthbert huffed. "Don't go easy on me."

"Oh, you want it hard?"

"Yes..." he rasped. "I won't last long, so make it count."

Millius grinned, then, without warning, stuffed his abnormally large cock inside, filling Cuthbert to the brim. The old man howled, the heat rushing through him at a breakneck speed, but luckily he didn't seem to wake the baby. He tried to be quieter as Milius rammed into him, bucking his hips and clutching his thighs, but it was pointless. Scream after bellowing scream tore through his throat, his hole raw and wrecked from the fingering.

"That's it," Milius puffed, his own pleasure warping his mind. "God, you're so tight."

"Augh! I ... I'm going to cum, but keep going!"

"Are you sure?"

"Yes!"

"Cuthbert--"

"Rape me!"

Milius obliged. He knew about Cuthbert's trauma, and he knew he liked to recreate it. It was the best thing for him, it seemed, and Milius refused to question it. He bashed into the old man's end, sending pangs of ecstasy barreling up his spine, until he threw his head back and wailed, his nerves crumbling. Yet Milius thrust through the violent orgasm, his chest heaving as his stomach smacked against Cuthbert's raging clit. It was too much for both of them.

"I'm close!" the younger monk warned, riding the aftershocks with wild fever. "Do you want it inside?"

"N-no!"

Milius knew what that meant. In this state, all of Cuthbert's nos were a yes. With a shimmering smile, he fucked him harder, deeper, making sure he felt it. Making sure he couldn't escape. He thrust so furiously the squishy, soggy sounds echoed outside, making Philip stop in his tracks. Curious, he put his ear up to the door, but his cheeks burned when he heard Cuthbert roar. His cries easily could've been mistaken for pain, if it wasn't obvious what they were up to--and it was obvious. Gulping loudly, Philip crossed his chest and ran back to the cathedral, regretting that he didn't mind his own business.

"Cuthbert?" Milius said, caressing his face. "Talk to me."

"Th-that's enough," he struggled to say.

That was real. Satisfied, Milius pulled out, his cock twitching, as his seed burst from Cuthbert's mangled hole and splashed the stones beneath them. His gape was worse now; an angry red, his spasms ruthless and intense. It felt so good. As he drifted off, Milius helped him stand for a split second, then laid him on the rug next to the stove, keeping him warm.

"Somehow, that baby stayed asleep," Milius said, wiping up the mess. "Maybe raising him won't be so difficult after all." He shrugged, biting his lip as Cuthbert squirmed from his touch. "Still, I'd like to move him to the cloister in a few months. Philip seems rather keen on raising him into the brotherhood."

"Y-yes..." Cuthbert panted. "I'm too old to raise a child, anyway."

"Not that again," Milius scoffed. "None of us were meant to raise a child. We're monks. This is the life we both wanted. No children, no marriage, just a life of pious devotion. You should be proud of what you've accomplished, and what you've overcome."

"Yes..." he wisped, barely coherent. "Give the baby to Philip. So we can k-keep doing this."

"Doing what?" Milius teased. "This?"

He shuffled closer and slid his tongue into Cuthbert's worn out gape, lapping up the rest of his semen. How cruel. Cuthbert cried out, but his voice didn't carry far, not now that he was on the verge of collapsing. For the third time, Milius, the man he loved, was inside him, finding places no one else ever had. No one ever could. No one ever took the time.

"Good God! M-Milius!"

He reached down, brushing back the younger man's hair, only to meet his fiery gaze. Yes, this is what he wanted, what they both wanted. It didn't matter to him how old Cuthbert was. It didn't matter if their time together would be shorter than that of most couples. It didn't matter that Kingsbridge was falling apart. Milius lived in the moment, and at that moment, his only world was Cuthbert.

[birdiefw]

JJ MAYBANK | NOT SO SNEAKY

Summary: You and JJ had been dating for a little over a month and have unintentionally made it your thing to kiss whenever your friends weren’t paying attention.

Warnings: swearing, drug use, sexual innuendos

A/N: It’s been some time since I wrote something like this so I’m sorry for any mistakes! I’d love to make more, though, so feel free to send in requests!

[not my gif]

It all started with a quick kiss late one night. You don’t know what came over you, but as soon as Pope turned his back to you and JJ, you were leaning over and planting a sweet kiss on JJ’s cheek. He was caught off guard by it as you’d both agreed you didn’t want your friends to know just yet, but he’d just smiled and returned the affection — seconds before Pope turned back around and continued to explain why he wanted to be a coroner. From that moment, you and JJ would steal kisses whenever you could when you were around your friends. When it was just you two, there were plenty of kisses, but doing it around your friends — it made it more exciting with the thought of being caught.

At the moment, you and JJ were impatiently waiting in John B.’s Volkswagen with Pope and Kiara while John B. was searching all through his home for his favorite surfboard. You and the Pogues were planning on going to the beach to catch some waves before the storm rolled in, but John B. was having trouble finding his own board. Pope was sat up front and reading a book you’d forgotten the name of already, Kiara leaning against the side of the van, leaving only you and JJ in the back. “Is he sure it isn’t already—”

“Do any of us look like John B. to you?” You teased Pope, cocking a brow towards the boy when he glanced over his shoulder to look in your direction.

“I’m just saying!” Pope defended meekly, shaking his head as he face forward. “It wouldn’t be the first time he forgot it was already on the roof.”

Kiara let out an annoyed sigh, rolling her eyes. It shouldn’t be taking him this long. “I’m gonna go help him look,” she stated, pausing to look inside the van towards you.

You raised your brows expectantly, unsure of what she was wanting. “Okay?”

“Are you sure you wanna be left alone with dumb and dumber?” Kiara asked, unsure as to why you were willingly remaining in the back with JJ as he was expertly rolling a joint you would/wouldn’t be taking hits of later.

You snickered, your smile widening by the offended expressions on Pope and JJ’s face. You nodded, ignoring the sharp glare you were receiving from your boyfriend when you didn’t defend him. “I think I can handle them,” you replied reassuringly. “Besides, this one needs two people watching him at all times to make sure he doesn’t do anything too stupid,” you said, nudging your head in JJ’s direction.

Kiara chuckled, backing towards the Chateau. “Suit yourself, Y/N.”

With that, Kiara jogged off towards the house so they could hopefully leave sooner rather than later. You let out a content sigh once she was out of sight and pulled out your phone to check your notifications. You were going to reply to a text, but you froze when you felt JJ’s breath fan against your exposed neck. You didn’t dare move, afraid it’d capture Pope’s attention.

Your eyes darted aside, but all you saw was a smug smirk on JJ’s face the closer he got closer to you. “Better be still,” he whispered, softly pressing his lips to your skin. Your eyes instinctively fluttered closed, tilting your head to give him more access — it only made his dimpled smirk widen proudly. “Don’t wanna get caught, do you?”

He pressed a gentle kiss to your neck, and you hated how he was affecting you so much with only the little pecks. He was such a tease, and though you enjoyed it at times, so were you. He hated it when you teased him, though. But after all, this was a game for the both of you, and you weren’t going to let him be the only one daring to do something with Pope so close to you two and within eyesight.

You suddenly moved so you and JJ were side by side, your hand going to hold the back of his neck. His eyes widened in excitement, your lips pressing to his lips before he had time to think. He kissed you back hungrily, one of his hands going to your lower back. You playfully bit his lip and he let out a huff, wanting more. However, you pulled away just as quickly and glanced down to your phone as if nothing had just happened.

Pope turned to face you two, noting JJ’s flushed appearance after he heard an odd sound come from the blond. “Dude, are you okay?”

JJ scoffed, clenching his jaw. He didn’t dare look at you, but you knew you’d succeeded. “Yeah, just peachy.”

You smirked to yourself and went back to scrolling through your phone. JJ finished rolling his joint with his heart still thumping loudly in his chest with an ache for more. He carefully placed it to his lips and went to light it, but it was swiftly snatched away by Pope. You winced, knowing JJ didn’t like it when someone did that — especially when he was wanting it to relax him after you’d started something you weren’t going to be finishing anytime soon.

“Bro!” JJ gaped, attempting to take it back.

Pope shook his head and held it further away from his friend, glaring. “Not in the van, bro!”

“I just want a lil taste! It’ll be so quick you won’t even smell it!” JJ defended, trying to grab it again. Pope slid out of the passenger side, daring JJ to make a move.

“Didn’t you already get a taste?” John B. replied instead, cradling his surfboard under his arm with Kiara walking beside him, something unfamiliar on her stunning features. Pope frowned while you and JJ had confused expressions etched on your faces. Surely they didn’t know. John B. rolled his eyes and pointedly glanced between you and JJ, causing your heart to sink. “Are you serious right now? You two aren’t very sneaky.”

Your face paled in realization, lips parting. They knew?

JJ remained calm, feigning further confusion. “What the hell are you talking about, man?”

Kiara moved closer to the van, her arms folded over her chest and head titled. “Cut the bullshit, JJ,” she said, faintly smiling. Then her eyes flickered go you. “Really, Y/N? JJ of all people?”

Your cheeks turned pink, a groan leaving your lips as you pushed your face into your hands. JJ grunted and threw his hands up in the air, eyes pinned to you. “We could’ve fooled them if you’d just tried a little harder, baby!”

“No, you couldn’t have,” Pope retorted, climbing back inside with JJ’s joint hidden in place the surfer boy would never find it; for now. You moved to sit closer to JJ, giving Kiara more room to enter the back of the van while John B. made his way to the drivers side so you all could get going. “I saw you guys at the movies.”

“Movies?” Kiara repeated, face scrunched together. “I saw them at the beach the week before.”

You and JJ briefly glanced to each other, slightly amused. You hadn’t intended for your friends to find out yet, or this way at least, but you were glad they didn’t seem to mind it; you hated the no pogue on pogue macking rule and feared that your friends wouldn’t approve of you and JJ. Thankfully, they felt otherwise. “Wait, how long has this been going on?” Pope wondered, eyes burning into you and JJ for answers.

You pursed your lips in thought, glancing down to your wrist that did not have a watch wrapped around it. “Five weeks, two days, and 16 minutes.”

JJ laughed under his breath, not having any problems with wrapping his arm around your shoulders and pulling you into his side to let everyone know you were in fact his. John B. faintly smiled, but it was suddenly replaced by a frown as he faced the crew. “Hang on,” he said, blinking in surprise, but his eyes were on Pope and Kiara. “You two already knew about this?”

Pope and Kiara nodded in unison. “Well duh. Didn’t you?” Kiara laughed.

“They’re weren’t very discreet,” Pope said, momentarily pausing. “No offense.”

“None taken,” you replied with a nonchalant shrug.

John B. scoffed, his brows knitted together. “I only found out today!”

You giggled, reaching forward to give him a comforting pat on the shoulder. “It’s okay, John B.,” you said kindly. “Despite what Pope and Kie say, we were pretty good at hiding it for a while.”

“Sure, Y/N,” Kie teased.

You gave her a playful shove, making her let out a loittke augh. Your body curled further into JJ’s side once John B. started up the Volkswagen and began heading towards the awaiting beach. You let out a content sigh as you relaxed in your boyfriends safe arms, smiling to yourself when he pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head.

“Hey, just because we know now doesn’t mean you can be all lovey-dovey whenever you want,” Pope playfully scolded when he saw the kiss.

John B. chuckled, stealing a look in the rear view mirror. “Save it for the bedroom.”

“Oh, we will,” JJ smugly said, grinning from ear to ear. You whacked his arm in disgust and Kie grimaced, facing the window. JJ only chuckled and tightened his grip on you, making you feel at ease with the world.

Though your friends now knew about you and JJ, you had a feeling that you and JJ would happily continue to try and get as many kisses in without your friends noticing the exchanges, and you didn’t mind one bit.

————

A/N: PLEASE DON’T HESITATE TO LEAVE OR MESSAGE ME SOME REQUESTS!

[twistedmusings]

A Midnight Prank

[Set during Chapter 5] 

Ace figured that if you were sleeping so peacefully in your bed while he had to spend a good portion of the night on the floor, why shouldn’t he try to get his revenge? A small midnight prank would be a good way to teach you about leaving him laying on the floor like that~ 

Warnings: Lime. Very mild somnopholia and food play with Ace slowly starting to realize that he might have taken a prank a bit too far. 

A/N: What better way to start this writing blog than to reveal myself as an Ace stan. I barely blinked when I first started with this game but the moment he popped up in Ghost Marriage I guess my eyes just suddenly saw the light because this boy has such yan possibilities as well as being a tease about everything. So enjoy this self indulgent drabble, I’ll see if I write more like these ò uó. 

“Oh Great Sevens…my back.”

Ace stands up and stretches, looking down at his best friend’s and Grim’s position on the floor. Of all the things Vil could do, poisoning the food? 

Well not really poisoning but cursing the food? Who the hell cursed food? Especially Trey’s baked goods?! It was a late-night snack, a team bonding exercise! To him, Ramshackle was the place he could get away with being himself without having to follow Riddle’s sometimes ridiculous rules! Yet he had just spent the good half of the night laying on the cold, hardwood floor with Deuce and Grim like some punished first year despite the fact that he was best friends with the prefect of this dorm! 

And speaking of you. 

He glares at the stairs, remembering the helpless look you had sent him as you went upstairs with Vil following short after. You, better than anybody, knew how the floors of Ramshackle were! If you had been laying on the floor paralyzed, Ace would have brought you at least a pillow!

 Maybe!

A grin spreads on his face as his brain plans out a pretty simple prank. He goes over to the chocolate cake he had taken a bite out of and scoops up some of the whipped cream frosting the cake was lavishly decorated with , grinning as he grabs  a napkin and makes his way upstairs.

“This is for betraying the First Year Loyalty Pact, [Y/N]. Get ready to get yelled at, dear manager~”

His steps are quiet on the stairs, knowing where each and every creak would be in the old, wooden stairs. It had been a while since he had pulled a prank on you, the both of you teaming up to pull pranks on others and quickly running away as soon as the plan was executed. A part of him always thought that you, the favourite of Riddle whenever you came over to Heartslabyul, would not be as on board with his pranks but seeing you come up with your own little plans as both of you hid away from your rose garden duties was unexpected and highly welcomed.

Your excited tone, the way you moved your hands. It would get Ace riled up and ready to execute absolutely anything under your orders. 

Cater had described him as being 'whipped' but Ace didn't even know what that meant so jokes on the upperclassmen, he supposed. 

He snickers as he gets to your door, praising the Queen of Hearts that it was only ajar instead of fully closed. Ace had gone over a few scenarios in his head, maybe covering your entire face with the frosting or putting the frosting on your hand while tickling your nose so that you would slap yourself. Nothing too big since he still wanted to keep his friend status with you. 

Yet his best idea had popped up once he reached the side of your bed, looking down at you sleeping so peacefully. 

"Not for long~" 

If he took a peek at the clock he could see that it was three in the morning. He guessed that Vil's curse lasted around four hours. Practice started at eight so they would usually be awake around six thirty to eat a meager breakfast and start walking to Pomefiore-- 

Which meant that if you happened to take a bite out of this delicious frosting that he held in his finger, you would wake up unable to move and miss the entirety of breakfast altogether. He would also add the extra bonus of closing your door so you would have to scream for someone to come get you. 

"Essentially two birds with one stone, right [Y/N]?" he sits down at the edge and leans over you, "Your screaming will piss Vil off so much, probably throw him off his whole morning routine. Heh, even in this scenario you are my partner in crime…" 

Ace moves to trace the chocolate on your lips, a smile on his face as he wonders just what words you would be yelling out first thing in the morning. After this maybe he should go set up his camera to record Vil lecturing you while you were stuck in your bed. 

Ah. 

His fingers weren't moving. Why weren't his fingers moving? 

"Haha...ha. O-Okay, I got this. [Y/N] say 'ahh'." 

A warm hand cupped your face as he used the one not holding the sweet confectionary, pressing his thumb against your lips and swallowing down the rather huge lump in his throat as it slowly made its way past them. Ace pressed down lightly, your mouth parting slowly as his nail scraped against the top of your teeth which allowed him to press down and watch as your mouth parted open for him. 

Shit. Shit. Shit. 

He was sweating, why was he sweating? A normal prank would have him smiling as adrenaline rushed through his body but this wasn't the kind of rush he was expecting. 

Ace was nervous. 

Thumb pressing against your tongue, he stopped his exploring there and not daring to go another step. He remembers back in his dating days during middle school, his girlfriend always insisted on doing the 'cutesy' thing and feeding each other. Strawberries, cotton candy, anything that was just cheesy and picture perfect enough to make him sigh in annoyance. Back then it had all just been a bother. 

But with you, why was it making him feel so--

"Augh!" 

Ace pulls his finger away, your lips still parted slightly as he grabbed his hand as if it was burned. 

Come on Trappola! What the hell is wrong with you!

You! You with your soft lips, warm tongue and inviting face that looked so so peaceful while sleeping. As if nothing would wake you! Just leaving the door open so anyone would come in and take advantage of the opportunity right before them. 

The infamous prefect of Ramshackle...looking so defenseless. 

"[Y/N]." 

Ace leans over you once again, the finger covered in chocolate this time making its way past your lips with no shame as his eyes seem to glaze over with unprecedented confidence. This was all for the sake of a good prank. Hell, he should one up it and sleep next to you tonight. You would wake up to Ace looking over you, unable to move as he teases you for not noticing his presence sooner. 

"You should really lock your door at night." he shivers when he feels your tongue lapping at his finger, "Otherwise next time I'll have to pull an even naughtier prank." 

He presses down on the slimy muscle, eyes widening when he starts getting a reaction. His finger moves up and down, tracing your tongue as your body starts to slowly respond to the attention of something sweet teasing your tastebuds. 

"Mmnnn." 

The chocolate was all gone when Ace pulled his finger back, licking his lips as he saw a faint trail of drool connecting his finger to your lips. You should have the taste floating in your mouth as your body slowly took in the curse. 

Ace barely notices himself panting until he takes a deep breath, fingers toying with the sheets covering your body as he leaned in ever closer. Maybe he should check? After all he wanted to prank you so good that you wouldn't forget about it. The thought making you squirm and open your mouth, begging him to put something inside-- 

"Ace?" 

Blood nearly rushes all the way back up to Ace's head as he hears Grimm's voice, the little creature looking at him tiredly as it floated towards him. 

"G--Grimm?! What--!" 

"My tail and ears hurt! I can't believe [Y/N] just left us there. When they wake up I'm going to--" 

Grimm yawns as he makes his way over to you, gently laying on your chest as the Heartslabyul student quickly stands up and makes his way through the door. He doesn't waste any words on saying good night as he steps out into the hall, gently shutting the door behind him and sliding down to the floor. 

What the hell did I just do? 

He looks at the finger that had done the act, staring at it as if it had a mind of its own. Your mouth had been so warm and now his entire body felt cold. Anf you weren't even aware that you had just left him feeling like this! 

Ace sighs as he runs a finger through his hair, standing up and making his way downstairs to check if Deuce has woken up. 

Not necessarily noticing how he bit at the top of the finger that had become so intimate with you. 

                                                        ~~~~~

Omake 

"Kalim? It's four in the morning why the hell are you awake?" 

Ace blinks as he supports a sleeping Deuce, the other still snoring away as Kalim smiles and places a finger to his lips. 

"I'm going to see if I can sneak in a cuddle with [Y/N]. Grimm mentioned how warm they were yesterday and I've been curious ever since!"  

"Oh, cool. Have fun then." 

The Heartslabyul student keeps walking as the Scarabia dorm leader opens the door to your room, whispering a goodnight. It was only when he heard the click of your door did he nearly drop his fellow student. 

"WAIT WHAT?" 

[rabidpotato]

I have Castlevania brain rot send help

Ho boy. I have FEELINGS.

Season 4 spoilers and (longwinded) Discourse(TM) below the cut

A happy ending? In MY Castlevanias? It’s more likely than you think. With as grimdark as the series has been I fully expected to have my heart torn out and shat on, so to get an actual satisfying happy ending was a whole lungful of fresh air. Gimme that sweet sweet rush of Everybody Lives Nobody Dies, I need that shit pumped straight into my poor serotonin-starved brain.

What a hell of a season. There was enough material there for at least two seasons (and I would have LOVED to have two seasons, but that’s just because I’m greedy and want more…) and I was skeptical that they could even try to wrap up all those threads..and then they DID IT. Hot damn.

Hot Takes:

In this house we stan Greta and will tolerate no disrespect against our sword-and-hammer wielding queen. I love her, and I love her and Alucard’s dynamic with the deliberate parallels to Dracula and Lisa. I think she’s good for him.

TREVOR AND SYPHA UGH I JUST LOVE THEM SO MUCH I’m out here crying ugly tears at how much this stinky himbo and tiny nuke love each other ;______; Battle Couple OTP.

I would watch the shit out of an entire season of everybody building the new village and Trevor and Sypha learning how to be parents and Alucard and Greta getting closer and everybody just being HAPPY. This is because I am trash, not because there would actually be any storytelling value in such a thing. Same thing with onscreen kisses between Trevor and Sypha. Is it necessary? No. Doesn’t mean I don’t want it. But hey, that’s what fandom is for, right? I’ll just be over here drawing beetus-inducing fluff and being vaguely disgusted with myself.

Papa Trevor would be so soft. I think my ovaries just exploded.

I 100% expected Trevor to die and leave Sypha grieving and pregnant with the way they teased it in the trailer and the way it would have thematically fit with the rest of the series, and I am SO GLAD he didn’t. I’m tired of sad endings. I really love that he gets to be part of this world of people who know how to build things.

“I love you.” “I know.”

That single flash of Sypha’s face as he’s fading out knowing he’s going to die and being at peace with it, augh my fucking heart. T_T

Horse is secret MVP. That horse knows things.

Isaac confirmed for a) stand user and b) monster fucker. King out here living his best life, you love to see it.

But for reals tho, Isaac’s arc was one of my favorites. Nice fakeout with the conquest line in the trailer. The philosophical discussions on the nature of humans and night creatures, the way he comes to realize that he (and Hector, and by extension his own night creatures) is/are more than a tool to be used in the hands of others, the way he reclaims his own agency and decides he’s going to live...I fucking loved it. (Also paves the way for post-series forgehusbands…)

SO FUCKING HAPPY FOR STRIGA AND MORANA. I was holding my breath expecting them to get horribly killed the entire time and then they just...weren’t. The hot vampire wives got to literally ride off into the sunset (sunrise?) together, in a way that made sense. The General and the Organizer looked at the data on the ground, discussed, and made the calculated decision to stick with what really matters to them, not just Carmilla’s ambitions. More of this, please! Would have loved to see Striga fight more than once, though. Also I would shank a man for Morana’s cape.

Respect for Carmilla for going out on her own terms, even if it did feel a little heavy-handed. The cinematography of her and Isaac’s fight sure as hell made up for it though- that was one of the prettiest fights of the series.

Reunited trio’s fight was the other prettiest fight of the series. Holy fuck, what gorgeous animation.

I actually liked that St Germain’s lady friend never spoke- it reinforced the way that he has mythologized her to the point where she’s not even a person, just an ideal. It was also exactly what he deserved that she turned her back on him in the end. She’s just not that into you, bro.

Varney is a hoot. A greasy, flea-infested slimy hoot. Nice twist, too. Death’s design is *chef kiss*

Loved the themes of moving on and rebuilding and change and how there’s a pretty clear split between the people who are able to adapt and change (and live), and those “relics of the old world” who can’t or won’t. Ratko was criminally underused in this respect. I think there just wasn’t enough time.

Quibbles:

Pacing. I know Castlevania is notorious for uneven pacing, but in this case I think this is on Netflix- they should have been given a full two seasons to wrap this up, just to give things a chance to breathe. As it was, though, I think the writers did the best possible job given the constraints they were under.

Zamfir should have lived to learn the lesson about caring for the people who are still alive, and been the one to take charge of rebuilding Targoviste for the living. Having her die was straight-up pointless in a predictable way.

Did Trevor just straight-up forget he has TWO weapons with range when fighting Ratko? You have like a 30 foot reach what are you doing bro

Lenore is Problematic, and I wish there had been more tension between her and Hector. Like, I know Stockholm Syndrome is a thing, but he’s weirdly chill with her in a way that glosses over just what she did to him. Also I would have liked to see more self-awareness of “Oh, being a pet in a cage really is shitty, no matter how nice the cage. Now I know why what I did to you was wrong” before she dips. Her ending sure was poetic, though.

Wasn’t Trevor’s left arm broken in that last fight? How the heck is he even able to use it at the end? Also damn dude it’s been two weeks you should probably at least have washed those gaping wounds by now. Do you want sepsis? Because that’s how you get sepsis.

Unpopular Opinions:

Look I love Dracula/Lisa as much as the next shipper but “Hey we’re alive again for some reason!!” was totally out of left field. It felt like something out of a fix-it fic and it was just kinda baffling and jarring. Also go see your fucking kid, jfc you two are terrible parents.

Is Lisa just...kinda fine with the fact that Dracula tried to commit genocide in her name and almost killed their son? That must have been an awkward conversation.

I’m actually cool with Alucard spilling his life story to Greta on the march. He’s starving for human interaction, who’s to say he wouldn’t just want to TALK about what he’s been through? It’s treated in a way that’s a bit flippant for my taste, but we’ve seen enough of his trauma onscreen. I want to focus on his healing.

I’m hesitant to kick this particular hornet’s nest, but I really don’t think the ot3 has to be sexual? If it is, it damn well be an ot4 polycule with Greta. I see them more as two couples that are close friends and found family. But that’s the great thing about fandom! Rock on, shippers of all flavors, there’s room enough for everybody.

In Conclusion (jesus fuck how much did I write)

Castlevania pretty

Have you seen my braincell I think I misplaced it

Moar plz

[xxiamtiebrousxx]

Chapter 5 "The Gentle Yet Brutal (The Gentleman and the Assassin | CBS x Reader x Gentle Spy)

I groaned. Gentle continued to carry me as the heavy rain poured. The car faded from view and it got darker. As we walked deeper into the woods, the temperature dropped, but hey, at least the rain wasn’t as bad underneath the trees’ canopy. I shivered. The cold ran down my spine and I couldn’t stop shivering and shaking. Gentle struggled to carry me.

“I’m s-sorry,” I said with chattering teeth. “C-can’t k-keep  s-still.” Gentle just hoisted me back on his shoulder, adjusting me right. I don’t know if it was to prevent me from falling or to keep me from freezing to death. 

“Here, this’ll keep you warm.” A heavy piece of clothing weighed me down and was wrapped around my body. I recognized it as a vest since the collar stuck out like Christian’s. 

“Um, thanks,” I softly muttered. Christian walked closer and gave me a small nudge on the elbow. I thought I saw him smile before he sneered at me.

“Speak of this, and you’ll lose your tongue, Roo,” he replied. I sighed.

Bad boy mood was back on. For once, I thought he’d be nice. Just for a little bit. 

We continued to walk. Christian’s vest began to warm me up. I yawned. Back home, wrapping me in a blanket or placing one on my feet would cause me to fall asleep instantly.

“Are we there yet?” I asked. “I’m getting drowsy.”

“We’re almost there, cherie,” Gentle responded. “‘Ou can close your eyes.” My eyes felt heavy as soon as he said that. I couldn’t take it, I was getting tired. So I closed my eyes.

“G’night roo,” Christian gently whispered.

It was silent for a while. I was at peace and was relaxed. But the rain pattering on my head prevented it from calming down. I opened my eyes, groaning. So did Christian. “Sleep Roo, Oi don’t wanna deal with your annoying voice.” Yeesh, moody

“Christian, be nice,” Gentle said. “Don’t want to have to carry cherie, now do we?”

“I have a name you know,” I said, resting my chin on my hand. “It’s Y/n.”

“Don’t care,” Christian replied. He flicked my cold nose. I groaned, rubbing it as the assassin chuckled. 

“Jerk,” I muttered, flipping his hat off.

“Hey!” he growled, picking it up. “Hands off.” I smirked. I flicked his hat off again. He picked it up and growled at me. He flicked my nose, I flicked his hat. Gentle sighed. He picked up the pace, leaving a gap between Christian and I.

“Can’t keep me away from the Roo!” he called out. I blushed. Roo, it fits me. I just didn’t realize until now.

“I can go ahead and try,” Gentle replied. Eventually, the spy carried us so far from Christian that he was out of sight. “Alright, let’s take a break, cherie.” Gentle set me down on the ground, feet first. I rested against a tree.

“I’m drained,” I said. “How about you?”

“I can carry on for a while,” Gentle replied. He pulled out a cigarette and lighter. He lit the rolled tobacco and took a smoke. “On the other hand, ‘ou need more sleep than I.” I yawned in response.

“With Christian constantly acting as a child,” I said, “I won’t be able to sleep tonight.” Gentle softly smiled.

“Rest, ‘ou can trust me,” he replied. “No harm will come to ‘ou tonight.” I slid down the tree, resting against the raised roots.

“You promise?” I asked.

“I promise.” 

I closed my eyes, falling asleep instantly.

“There you are!”

“Sh! Christian, cherie’s asleep.”

“Oi don’t care. At least Roo’s not awake. Her voice irritates me.”

“Let’s just get moving.” Something picked me up, I could feel it. I was hoisted onto someone’s back. I subconsciously grabbed on, not wanting to fall.

“Augh, Gentle! Why are you making me carry her???”

“It’s for your own good.”

“Oi don’t see what this has to do with my own good.”

“Punishment for being rude.”

“Tsk.”

There was silence. No one talked. I had completely fallen asleep. My brain shut out all noise.

All but her voice.

“Y/n, wake up,” Olivia said.

I woke up, panting.

Where was I? Was I home? What happened? I looked around. I was in an unfamiliar location.

Olivia wasn’t there. Was she just in my mind? 

I got out of bed. I was without shoes, so whatever grimy thing was on the ground was now on my feet. The room was dark, but I could tell it wasn’t mine.

“Olivia?” I softly called out. Again, she didn’t answer. She really wasn’t here. The tears welled up in my eyes. CBS and Gentlespy were real. It wasn’t a nightmare.

My friends, they really died.

I walked to the door, nearly tripping over my own feet just trying to get to the other side. Christian’s vest was still on me. I blushed. He didn’t take it back or anything, he let me sleep with it. After our tiny flicking feud, I thought he would’ve taken it back. I found the door and opened it. Gentle was asleep, leaning against the wall across from my room. I gasped and shut the door. 

I shook my head and leaned against the door. “He’s not there, he’s not there, he’s not there,” I said. I opened the door just a little. Staring right at me was Gentle. He was smiling while I was wetting my pants.

Yes, even though I’m a kid in college, I can still wet my pants. Figuratively speaking.

“Good morning cherie,” he said. He tried to open the door but I used my body to keep it closed. I squatted down against the door.

“Haven't you heard of knocking?!?” I asked. “What if I wasn’t decent?” Gentle opened the door, moving me gently away from the door. He knocked on the doorframe.

“Are ‘ou decent?” he asked, poking his head in. I groaned, standing up.

“Yeah, I’m decent,” I answered. “Good morning.” I dusted myself off. 

“Ready to get started?”

“Not really.”

[lady-of-the-lotus]

The Undershirt

The Sleuth of the Ming Dynasty - Suitang - 2k - G - first kiss fluff - AO3!

..............

“Hand it over,” orders Sui Zhou.

Tang Fan pouts, a pout somewhere in between his “I’m hungry, feed me” face and “Dinner was an hour late, I almost died” face.

“I ran out of clean ones,” he says when Sui Zhou holds out his hand, “and I had to pack in a hurry—”

“I had only three rules. Rule one: Don’t mess up my house again—”

“Alright, alright,” Tang Fan says before Sui Zhou can lecture him. Leave it to Sui Zhou to take an inventory of his clothes as soon as he got home, all because Tang Fan had left his things just the tiniest bit mussed! “Take your stupid undershirt back; it’s too big on me anyway.”

Sui Zhou turns back to his cooking as Tang Fan slips halfway out of his robe, making a face as he removes the undershirt. Missing Sui Zhou, Tang Fan had pilfered the distinctive draped-neck garment from his things after he’d left on his ill-fated “business trip.” “Happy now, Sui-baihu?”

Sui Zhou glances up briefly from the soup, eyes flickering over Tang Fan. Sui Zhou’s handsome features are soft in the warm yellow candlelight and the orange glow of the stove. “Better.”

Tang Fan stands there with his robes draped around his waist, chest exposed, shyly holding the undershirt in front of him, watching Sui Zhou’s strong, sure hands as they slice vegetables and meat and then, once dinner is cooking, assemble the dessert, grinding the sesame seeds and working the delicate mixture.

A swell of fondness fills Tang Fan’s chest as Sui Zhou puts the finishing touches on the little sesame cakes, decorating each with a pink circle of honeyed flower petals.

"Aren't you going to put the undershirt back on?” Tang Fan asks as Sui Zhou puts the last petal in place. Most of the shyness has worn off as Sui Zhou tells him about how he developed the recipe, his deep voice low and soothing as it fills the cozy little kitchen.

"Later." Sui Zhou glances up, eyes flickering once again over Tang Fan's bare chest before returning to his work. Perhaps it's the warm glow of the candle, but Tang Fan imagines there's a hint of color in Sui Zhou's cheeks.

Too late it occurs to him that he should have at least put his robes back up over his arms and chest. Jiejie had driven it through his head that to wear robes without an undershirt was uncouth and a sure way to get the robes dirty, but…

"Do you still have your prison clothes? That was a good look." The question escapes Tang Fan before he can censor himself. "I mean—your uniform is good too—I mean, your normal undershirt is better than that prison one.” He dangles the undershirt from his fingertips, as if this question was just an extension of him returning Sui Zhou's undershirt. “I mean...”

Sui Zhou cranes his neck away slightly, as if trying to avoid looking at Tang Fan but probably only checking to make sure Dong'er isn't nearby to see Tang Fan in this state of undress. "Be careful with that. You're going to set the kitchen on fire again."

Grinning, and more at ease now that the conversation is back in familiar teasing territory, Tang Fan sidles closer to Sui Zhou, waving his shirt near where the mutton soup is bubbling on the fire. "Oh, that was on purpose. You know, to get you to free Dong'er—"

Sui Zhou gives him that look of his, the one that appears completely expressionless but in fact contains a half dozen emotions from all corners of the spectrum. "You set fire to my house on purpose?"

"Well—"

"What about the time you fell asleep with the candle beside your bed, and the time you tripped and fell holding the lamp—"

"Fine, it wasn't on purpose. But the bad food was! I can cook, if I wanted to—”

"You can't cook."

Tang Fan inches closer. He's not quite sure why. "You could teach me."

Sui Zhou frowns slightly. "You step foot in my kitchen without me here, and you sleep outside with the sheep."

Tang Fan wrinkles his nose. "The sheep has a name ."

"Li Qing?"

Tang Fan almost drops the undershirt on the stove. "How did you—”

Sui Zhou turns away again as if to hide a grin. Li Qing is the main character of Tang Fan's magnum opus, My Sexy Lady .

"You didn't read it!" Tang Fan leans forward in consternation. He's not sure why he's so thrown. It's a brilliantly-written work, like all of his books, but somehow to have Sui Zhou privy to—to all that — "Wang Zhi told you or something—wait till I get my hands on him!"

Sui Zhou is definitely holding back a grin. "I liked the part where the ‘sexy lady’ sets fire to Shi Yang's house after she thinks he stole her necklace."

"That never happened! She never did anything half so crazy!”

Sui Zhou is no longer holding back his smile. "Maybe in the sequel, My Sexy Wife."

Tang Fan laughs out loud. People who don't know Sui Zhou think he's stiff and cold and completely humorless, but Tang Fan knows better. It's subtle, but Sui Zhou's sense of humor and appreciation of the outlandish is definitely there. If it weren't, Tang Fan doesn't think he would get along with him as well as he does.

Which, when he stops to think of it, is rather odd. His getting along with him so well, not the sense of humor. Despite having lived in the capital for years, and having many acquaintances, Tang Fan has few close friends. As he knows he’s a delight to be around, never complaining and generously standing people meals, he can only assume it’s a failing in other people.

A failing that Sui Zhou evidently doesn’t have, to appreciate Tang Fan’s virtues, both hidden and overt.

It’s not that Tang Fan annoys people. That can’t possibly be it, no matter what Jiejie says. But he can’t deny that not everyone appreciates him, and that hurts, sometimes.

A sudden thought, and Tang Fan abruptly stops laughing. Why did Sui Zhou pick that example? Surely it was just a joke after what they'd been talking about—he knows it is—but of all characters to pick—

Tang Fan had based a lot of Li Qing on himself. Like him, she's a beautiful genius often put-upon by those who fail to appreciate her properly, driven to do the right thing at whatever costs, someone who appreciates fine food and faces the world with a smile no matter how she's feeling.

No. Sui Zhou is just teasing him, as usual. That's it. He probably hadn't even finished the book...

He wants to ask Sui Zhou if he liked the book, but despite it being his best-selling work, he’s hesitant to ask. Sui Zhou is nothing if not honest, and what if he didn’t truly like it?

Tang Fan resolves to start work on a sequel that night. Perhaps Shi Yang could enter the imperial guards and, together with Li Qing, solve a series of increasingly exciting mysteries that pit them against the world. Back to back, they’ll chase justice and stand strong against the winds of—

“Here.” Sui Zhou slides the plate of sesame cakes towards him. “For coming to get me.”

Tang Fan grins. “You mean rescuing you.”

Sui Zhou turns back to the soup. "Just eat them."

Tang Fan inches even closer, more to annoy Sui Zhou than anything else, he thinks. "Go on, say it. I rescued you."

"Keep this up, and you're getting kicked out of my kitchen."

" Your kitchen? Why is it—oh, right. It's your house." Tang Fan looks down at the sesame cakes. It's almost a shame to eat them, they’re so beautifully decorated. "Am I allowed to eat them before dinner, or are you going to get all sulky?"

Sui Zhou gives Tang Fan a look as if to say, I'm not the childish one here, and reaches for a sesame cake just as Tang Fan does. Their fingers brush, and tingling current runs up Tang Fan's arm. Startled, he jerks away, dropping Sui Zhou's undershirt on the stove.

Spattered in mutton grease, it erupts in a column of flame.

"Augh!" Panicking, Tang Fan drops the shirt in the soup. “Put it out! Put it out!”

Sui Zhou snatches the shirt out of the soup and drops it in a pot of water. "What did I just tell you about setting my house on fire?"

Smiling weakly, Tang Fan begins sidling in the opposite direction as Sui Zhou comes closer. "You startled me! You grabbed at me just as I was trying to eat, I haven't eaten all day, I was hungry, you forced me to take a cake—"

He bumps up against the wall. Sui Zou leans over him, one arm framing him, his face a mix of exasperation and—and fondness, Tang Fan wants to believe, though it’s hard to when there's a charred, soup-soaked undershirt not five feet away.

"It wasn't my fault I burned your shirt!" Tang Fan continues bravely. Whining has always worked on Old Pei and Jiejie, though he still hasn’t quite learned the exact point Jiejie’s indulgence tips over into slapping-him-across-the-face territory, hence all the slapping. "Tired after weeks of traveling, traveling across half the empire to rescue you, if you recall, weeks of seasickness and danger and unpadded saddles and not being able to finish my rice noodles in the one good restaurant between here and I thought you were dead at one point, and that was almost as bad as the noo—"

Sui Zhou bends forward and kisses him.

Tang Fan goes rigid.

Did—did Sui Zhou just—

Sui Zhou kisses him again, as if to clear up any doubts.

"Well, that's one way to stop you from talking," he says.

Tang Fan's heart is beating like a war drum, but strangely enough it's not from nerves. There's a smile on Sui Zhou's lips (rather full lips, he notices. Until now he's been too distracted by his arms and shoulders and—well—all the rest of him, most likely), and there's definite fondness in his eyes.

"I once talked through an acupuncture session for a sore tooth," Tang Fan says boastingly, more to calm his nerves than anything else.

He’s never been kissed before. Or rather, being a man, perhaps it was more appropriate to say he’d never kissed anyone before.

He’d always changed the subject when Old Pei brought it up. The local girls had never interested him, and he’d never though there were other— options—

"You can ask him at dinner,” he blusters on, pulse fluttering. “I was probably able to give him some good tips and pointers, I once read a book on acupuncture that—"

Sui Zhou shuts him up again, cupping his face in his hand. It smells of honey and spice, the callused palm somehow soft against Tang Fan's cheek, his long fingers curling around the back of his neck as he kisses him.

Tang Fan is suddenly very aware that he's half-naked, but it's somehow nice being around Sui Zhou like that, not uncomfortable as he's sometimes felt in the past around others. Natural, despite his first-time nerves.

He suddenly realizes that Sui Zhou is looking down at him as if waiting for him to say or do something.

"Am I allowed to speak again?" Tang Fan asks.

Sui Zhou half-smiles. "Nothing could stop you from talking for very long."

"I want another one of your undershirts, but a black one this time. I saw one tucked away in the chest, but Dong'er said it wouldn’t match my robes, though what does she know? I want the black undershirt, and—"

"Black to hide any future char?"

"This was an accident! You startled me!"

"The one you were wearing today is mostly black now, after you set it on fi—"

Tang Fan kisses him.

"You're right," he says, grinning at Sui Zhou, who seems to have forgotten how to speak. "That does work."

*

AO3

[square-blunt]

I love my friends, they make me feel alive again, or at least they remind me that I'm not even dead

I am kicking and screaming i must put this one and another Esmp fic out before tomorrow and I am very Nyoom rn so I'm sorry if this one isn't as good, I really liked the way it turned out so here have some clingyduo fluff bc yeah I can writing things that aren't angst?? What? no one dies and their best friend holds them in their arms this time?? fuckin crazy. /lh

TW- Abandonment anxiety, ptsd WC: 2530 words Ao3: :3

It was Tubbo's birthday today. Tommy had been planning something for weeks- grinding, mining, stealing, going through ax after ax getting wood. He even asked Foolish for some help, and after those weeks, he had finally built a perfect replica of the L'manberg bee house. It wasn't in L'manberg, of course, but Tommy was sure Tubbo wouldn't care.

He didn't fill the basement with wolves, but he did get two or three bees in there- he named them. Beeinnit, Ranbee, and Tubbee. Tubbo and his two best friends, but bee form. Tommy was still Tubbo's best friend, right? He knew that Ranboo was more than a friend to Tubbo, the two were married, Ranboo couldn't technically hold both titles, and Ranboo was too dumb- he needs to stop blaming Ranboo. Sitting in the bee dome, planting a few last flowers- cornflowers, poppies, sunflowers, and white tulips, Tommy realizes that he needs to stop blaming Ranboo. He needs to. Because Ranboo was a good… enderguy. And he was good for Tubbo. He had asked Tubbo if Ranboo made him happy- Tubbo nodded, and that was good enough for him. He needs to stop blaming Ranboo, and start looking at himself. Because if he and Tubbo aren't talking as much, of course, he's gonna find someone else to talk to. And he's learning to not blame himself for everything, he does blame Dream for that, but this isn't Ranboo's fault and it isn't Tubbo's. And Tommy knows that he and Tubbo are still gonna be friends. It's been him and Tubbo since the beginning, that's what he said before fighting Dream. And Tommy knows that he and Tubbo will have each other's back. He's just overthinking this, but he is still gonna try and give Tubbo everything he wants or needs. And try to give him the world that he deserves. He's gonna try and make the world a better place for him. And a bee dome is a nice, easy start. It was more tedious than anything- thank prime for Eret stealing the blueprints before Doomsday. They had the plans for every building ever created- they let Tommy have the one for the bee dome. They even brought over the bee that would become Tubbee. Tommy… wanted to forgive Eret. And he would. Eventually. Tommy kind of did that before going off to fight Dream- Eret was the last person he talked to. And Eret looked so relieved when Tommy said that he thought they were the true king. They had been there for him and Tubbo. That was good enough for him. He did think that Tubbo, Ranboo, and Eret, even, were his best friends. He knew that Puffy was his friend, and her griefing his house was just some friendly pranks, and he enjoyed having something to do. Shit was getting too buddy-buddy around here. Wilbur… he wanted to be Wilbur's friend- brother. He wanted the Wilbur who started L'manberg, he wanted the Wilbur who would sit down and play a song. He knew that Wilbur was still there. Somewhere. He stops to touch the petal of a cornflower next to him. Blue and yellow are on opposite ends of the color wheel, but they mean the same thing to Tommy. He loves, and misses, his best friends. They make him a better person. He doesn't have to be the bad guy.

Tommy shields his face, the sun setting and glaring into his eyes through a window. It's almost night, shit. He had put enough lanterns and shroomlights in the dome that mobs wouldn't spawn, but he wasn't so sure about outside. There was some pathing, courtesy of Foolish, and there was some light around, but he wasn't sure. Because mobs weren't the only thing that darkness hid.

Tubbo whispers to you: I'm here boss man

Tommy smiles. He had asked Tubbo to meet him at the community house, after his birthday party in the mansion- Tommy had left early to put the flowers in and told tubbo to meet him there whenever he was ready.

/msg Tubbo: k I gotta do one last thing

/msg Tubbo: be there in a sec

He's almost happier it's night, it'll look a lot cooler from a distance. He plants one more cornflower next to a hive. He brushes his hands off on his pants, and then brushes his pants off, and checks his reflection in the window. It wasn't too far of a run back to the community house, the dome was just to the side of Eret's castle.

"Tubbzo!" Tommy runs up behind his friend, who, unfortunately, had his back turned.

"Tommy!! You scared the shit out of me, fuck you-" Tubbo said, Tommy laughing.

"You fucking jumped, like, 30 feet in the air," Tommy says, a shit-eating grin on his face.

"Fuck you," Tubbo repeats, lightly hitting Tommy in the arm, beginning to giggle as well.

"Come on, I spent so fucking long on this so you'd better like it," Tommy says, beginning to drag Tubbo out by his forearm.

"Yeah, is Ranboo already there?" Tubbo says, walking at pace with the other.

"What? I haven't seen Ranboo since the party." Tommy says, a pit in his stomach opening up.

"Huh, he said he was going to go help you with my birthday gift. You never saw him at all?" Tubbo says, voice laced with worry.

"No, was he going anywhere before coming to me? And- and I never told him where this was- only Foolish knew. So I don't even know how he'd find me." Tommy says, his grip loosening on Tubbo's forearm so he could pull away if he wanted. Tubbo didn't.

"No, he did that weird thing though, he calls me Tubbo and talks to me like you or Foolish would." Tubbo walks a little closer to Tommy.

"What's off about that?"

"Ranboo usually calls me beloved or snow angel, and he'd talk to me like a husband would, yknow?"

"He calls you 'snow angel?'" Tommy screws up his nose.

"Oh, piss off," Tubbo smiles a little.

"But still, we can look for him on our way? Unless you wanna look for him now, the be-irthday gift can wait."

"A beirthday gift, you say?" Tubbo says, smiling.

"Oh, piss off," Tommy mimics Tubbo, "but seriously, if you wanna look for him we can." Tommy stops and turns to face Tubbo, giving a reassuring squeeze.

"No, no, it's- you made it, whatever it is, I'm sure he's fine, and I'm sure he'd want me to go ahead," Tubbo says, looking up and smiling slightly.

"If you're sure. Because fucking Prime, this shit took so fucking long and I had to practically beg Foolish to help…" Tommy continues to talk to Tubbo, trying to distract him from his currently missing husband. Eventually, the moon high in the clouds, they get to the start of the path.

"There's no way you did this." Tubbo laughs.

"I didn't- Foolish did the path but I built the actual thing," Tommy says, letting go of Tubbo's arm, "I'll race you!" and off he sprints.

"NO FAIR YOU KNOW WHERE IT IS!" Tubbo laughs from behind him.

"BYE-BYE BEE- boy-" Tommy skids to a stop, not long after rounding a corner of trees. He can see flames, high over the tree line, the light eating away and the surrounding stars, in the back of his mind he hears explosions- there aren't any explosions, Tommy, it's just a forest fire, there isn't any TNT, there isn't any TNT-

"Oh, is that… supposed to be on fire-" Tubbo stops next to him, Tubbo's hand on Tommy's forearm this time.

"No- no it-" Tommy straightens up, and he catches a glimpse of someone running away- a figure behind the trees, he blinks, and it's gone-

"Tommy?" Tubbo turns to look where Tommy was looking- where the figure was just moments before.

"N- nothing- Tubbo get- get behind me-" Tubbo's grip tightens on Tommy's arm as he pulls Drista's dagger out of his inventory, holding it in his other hand. Together, they creep up the path, until what's left of the bee house comes into view. It’s engulfed in flames, and all of Tommy’s hard work is being eaten away before his eyes. Tommy curses, puts the dagger away, and pulls out his water bucket.

"You've got-" Tommy motions at the bucket

"Yeah- and c'mere," Tubbo says, pulling on Tommy’s arm, throwing a fire res pot up. Tubbo lets go of Tommy’s arm as the shield washes over them, Tommy's skin feeling tingly. Together, they manage to put out the fire and put out a few trees that had caught before it spread anywhere else. They end in the dome, the roof all but gone, one of five beehives on the top floor remain.

"Oh, Tommy-" Tubbo begins to say, sadness heavy in his voice.

"Yeah, yeah, I spent fucking ages on it. Can't have shit- the gods must hate-" Tommy begins bitterly, collecting the last of the water, and putting it back in his hot bar. At least before his knees buckle under an unanticipated pile of weight. He hears Tubbo laughing from right behind him- he jumped on Tommy’s back, “Fuckin- Get off of me-” Tommy laughs, too. He doesn't mean anything by it, there's no malicious tone to anything he says to Tubbo- and Tubbo's one of the few people who actually understand that.

"I know exactly what this is-" Tubbo says, standing straight, a hand on his hip.

"What it was supposed to be." Tommy, out of habit, mirrors Tubbo. "See, why can't we have nice things? Fuckin, everyone else gets cool buildings and kingdoms and shit why the fuck can't we have a bee dome in the middle of the woods- what, why are you laughing" Tommy gestures vaguely at the rubble before raising a quizzical eyebrow at Tubbo's silent giggles.

"What it was supposed to bee," Tubbo says, cackling, and Tommy groans.

"Augh Tubbo, now is not the time-" Tommy rolls his eyes

"It was never meant to bee-" Tubbo laughs harder, clutching his stomach, leaning on Tommy for support. Tommy finds himself laughing a little bit,

"Ok, yeah, that was a good one- you wanna bee a hero, Tommy?" Tommy mimics Techno in a high-pitched voice- sending Tubbo into hysterics.

"We- We-hehehe- We would rather die than give into you and joi- join your SMBee-" Tubbo says between fits of laughter, making Tommy bark out a wheeze, "That was- was beeasier than I thought-"

"My unfinished symphobee-"

"TOMMY-"

"You can't control who lives who dies who-"

"-tells your storbee?"

"Yeah-hahaha! F- for Tommy to bee exiled-"

"That was so fucking stupid why'd I do that-" Tubbo shakes his head, his laughter subsiding.

"Because that's what you thought was best, you had no way of knowing what he was gonna- what he was gonna do to me-" Tommy says, the tone becoming solemnly serious.

"-If I had known I never would have done it, I would have told Dream to shove it up his ass, you know that right?" Tubbo says, reaching for Tommy's hand.

"Of course. We're best friends, I know you'd never do that to me." Tommy squeezes his hand. Tubbo lets out a breath, and he looks like a massive weight has been lifted off his shoulders. As much as he feels guilty admitting it, Tommy's glad Tubbo's been worrying about that. It means that he cares.

"Should he go in there and see what we can rebuild?" Tubbo says, rocking back and forth on his feet.

"If any, but- the bees!" Tommy breaks into a sprint, tugging Tubbo along with him with a yelp.

"Bees?" Tubbo easily gets his footing as they fly down the stairs, and all of Tommy's breath leaves in a sigh of relief. He can see three balls of yellow and black in a patch of flowers.

"Oh, thank prime," Tommy says.

"Oh, the flowers are L'manburg colors!" Tubbo reaches down to pick a poppy.

"Yeah… I tried to think of as many things as possible because I know how much L'manberg meant to you-" Tommy flails his arms out- Tubbo launching himself at Tommy- into a familiar hug, their laughter bouncing off the walls.

"It's fine, Tommy," Tubbo says, his voice bright- and Tommy becomes coldly aware of a memory- the last time Tubbo had roughly tangled him into a hug.

What am I without you?

Yourself?

"Tommy?" Tubbo's pulled back, a- at this point- very familiar concern on his face.

"I'm alright- just, bad memories. I'll be alright-" Tommy shakes his head, pulling Tubbo back into the hug.

"Are you sure? We can stop for a second- sit and talk?" Tubbo says softly from Tommy's shoulder.

"No- not on your birthday, I promise- I promise I'll be alright, this is nothing I haven't done- we haven't done before," Tommy says back, tucking his head into Tubbo's shoulder, trying to chase the pit in his stomach away.

"You sure?" Tommy can feel Tubbo's hand smooth down his hair. Tommy just hmms in response. "Do you think they- the bee's are asleep?"

"What do you mean?" Tommy looks up, he can't see the bees, but he doesn't want to leave the hug.

"The smoke, you think it put them to sleep?" Tubbo muses.

"Maybe," Tommy mutters. "Fuckin- I spent days on this." it was more of an inconvenience than anything at this point. "Do you wanna rebuild it?"

"Not right now, I'm tired, boss man." Tubbo sighs. Tommy realizes how tired he is, too, the familiar ache in his bones.

"Me too, Tubbzo, me too. Let's go home?" He says, making no move to back out of the hug. Tubbo just hums. And so they stand there, until they figure out they can shuffle together- at least to the stairs. Tommy laughs at the image this must make. Two boys, one half-cow, one half-dead, who would rather tear up the ground and trample flowers than break their hug. By the time they do eventually get to the stairs, they both are laughing. Tommy notices that he laughs a lot more whenever he's with Tubbo. He also notices he gets tired a lot quicker. Puffy would say something about Tommy feeling safe around Tubbo, enough so that he shows emotion and lets his guard down, but Tommy knows that. He yawns, he is actually really tired. Tubbo yawns too, and they help each other up the stairs and out of what's left of glass and wood. About halfway down the path, Tommy stops and looks over his shoulder, at the space between trees, where he saw-

"Whacha lookin at, big man?" Tubbo asks from beside him.

"Nothing- I thought I saw someone running away from the fire when we first got here- I think maybe they were the one that did it, but I didn't catch their face." Tommy says, half lying. It was true, he didn't catch their face, but he'd know those two glowing eyes anywhere. He knew who it was. No way he was gonna tell Tubbo about it.

Because he was almost sure it was Ranboo.

[bunnimew]

Too Much, My Love

Fandom: Rise of the Guardians Pairing: Jack Frost/Pitch Black, Nicholas St. North/Krampus Tags: Humor, Fluff, The Talk, Embarrassment, Anxiety, Mild Angst, Krampus has better things to do than this, But North asked nicely so Rating: T Words: 2,545 Summary: North has some tips for Jack on how to date the enemy.

The thing is, Jack hadn't meant for anyone to know.

For @rotgbingo 2021: Dating The Boss On AO3 Here.

For @cynical-bonehead, who gave me the original idea to do this <3

“Jack.”

North’s warm, heavy hand settled on Jack’s shoulder and instantly filled the Guardian with dread. Normally his touch was a comfort, but combined with the tone of his voice and just that one word, his name… Jack pressed his lips together and fought the urge to run.

Whatever it was, North would be kind.

“Yes?”

“We must talk,” North said, sliding his hand down Jack’s back and steering him up the stairs toward the workshop. “It is time.”

This did not bode well. ...Actually, this bode perfectly neutral. Every time North took Jack to the workshop, it was for some serious topic of conversation delivered in North’s particular brand of intense, but it usually worked out okay for Jack. It would just be, you know, intense.

Jack took a breath and reminded himself that he hadn’t done anything to annoy North in at least a month and the man’s patience was near infinite so Jack had no reason to be concerned now.

Jack’s entire self pep-talk flew right out the window, along with his sense of how the world worked, when North opened the door to reveal who would be with them for today’s lecture.

He was tall. So tall. Distinctly reddish in hue, with a standing posture that filled Jack with foreboding just from the shape of it. North’s workshop was the absolute last place Jack expected to find Krampus.

How did he even get in here with horns that big?

North calmly closed the door behind them, and it never occured to Jack that Krampus might not have been invited. The only spirit, to Jack’s knowledge, to make it past the yetis was Pitch, and although Jack didn’t doubt Krampus could get in if he tried, the idea that he would choose to do it stealthily and wait patiently for them to discover him was not on brand.

Also, North didn’t immediately start yelling. That was a huge hint.

Krampus smiled and Jack took a step back. It was only half-voluntary.

“Hello Jackson.”

Wait. Jack’s brows came together and he took his step forward again. “That’s not my name”

Krampus’s whole face tilted, and Jack regretted his step all over again. “Are you sure?”

“...I was two seconds ago.”

“Jack!” North’s voice caught his attention and the tone was so relaxed and friendly that despite the horror in the corner, he felt his muscles loosen out of the knots they’d worked themselves into. “This is what we must talk about.”

Jack was so confused. “Is Krampus joining the Guardians?”

That was definitely a no, because both North and Krampus burst into laughter and Jack felt really stupid for the whole minute it took them to catch their breath.

“Then what?” he asked, irritation creeping up his shoulders at the fact he had to ask at all. Why was North leaving him to guess? More importantly, if North was bringing him here for a talk, why did it feel like Jack was being left out of a big joke?

“No no no,” North said with a shake of his head. His hand landed on Jack’s shoulder again, and this time it felt comforting and inclusive and instantly lowered Jack’s hackles down from high alert. “Is a good joke, Jack. Krampus is not Guardian. He is husband!”

Jack stared up at North, his brain refusing to comprehend. The room sort of darkened at the edges and Jack heard but didn’t really feel the crack in his voice when he asked, “What?”

North moved away from Jack and stood next to Krampus on the other side of the room. It helped—Jack suddenly felt like he could breathe again—but also hurt—what was North doing with a terrifying Anti-Santa spirit all the way over there?—and left Jack more uncertain than he’d been even when he outright rejected the words coming out of North’s mouth.

“We are husbands!” North said again, and at least Jack felt like he heard him this time. “This is how I know, and why I must be who talks to you.”

Jack… just did not understand. “About what?”

North looked at him with concerned eyes in a determinedly jovial face. Great, now they were both confused. “Pitch Black of course!”

Jack was always cold, so he was usually numb to it. Now, the unnatural chill of shock and fear dropped hard over his shoulders and settled heavily in his stomach. "What?"

North reached for Jack with one large hand, but they were standing too far away for him to reach. His smile dimmed as concern took a stronger hold of his features. "Jack? Are you alright?"

"Yeah, of course," he said on instinct. Why wouldn't he be alright? He couldn't feel his hands or feet right now and the workshop was looking a little gray around the edges, but Jack was fine.

North came closer still. He obviously didn't believe Jack. Jack wasn't sure Jack believed Jack. "You look pale."

"That's normal," Jack insisted. Which, it was, so… "Why do we need to talk about Pitch?"

North nodded, back bent in the sort of crouch one assumed when trying to convince a wild animal that you weren't dangerous. "You and him are dating, no?"

The chill flashed to heat in a bare second. Jack's entire head felt hot. "What? No. What?"

"It is okay," North assured, lips pulling into a tentative, calming smile. "I understand. You see? Because I am dating malicious spirit, too!"

Jack needed to sit down. There was a tabletop behind him. Jack sat on that.

He felt it when his hand knocked over a prototype toy plane on its way to his staff, and Jack considered that a good sign even if he didn't react to pick it up again. He leaned on his staff instead, and focused on breathing.

How did North know? They had been so careful, only meeting in deserted places or enclosed spaces. There should have been no way to find out. If North knew, did that mean…

Jack's head shot up. "Who else knows?"

"No one!" North said too quickly. Then, "probably Sandy."

Jack felt betrayal for all of two seconds before he realized Sandy could read dreams and… okay, yeah, that checked out.

"Who knows about you?" It felt fair to ask.

North nodded shortly. "Sandy."

Seemed legit.

Jack felt himself calming now that the initial shock had passed. North wasn't accusing him of anything. He really did seem to want nothing more than to talk about it.

"Okay…" The problem was, Jack still didn't know what there was to talk about. "So?"

"So!" North said with a flourish. Clearly he'd gotten his confidence back. "I want you to know you can talk to me!"

"About?"

"Pitch!" North leaned forward like he was telling Jack a secret, but the volume of his voice made secrets impossible. "Bad guys can be frustrating."

"Tell me about it," Jack deadpanned.

"Is that what I am?" Krampus said, instantly reminding Jack that he was actually going to be here for this whole conversation. "A bad guy?"

North grinned at him. Krampus might as well have been the only person in the room, by the way North was looking at him. Jack got the impression this was a running joke between them. "The baddest."

This was a side of North Jack hadn’t seen before. But why would he? This was North’s private life, and although Jack knew he was important to North, he wasn’t this kind of important to him.

Wait a second.

Jack’s hand landed hard on the tabletop in indignation. “I thought I was top of the naughty list?”

Krampus snorted a laugh and it was the most unsettling sound Jack had heard in a long time, but North’s eyes were back on Jack and his hand was waving dismissively in the air. “Different kind of naughty, Jack.”

“Augh!” Jack pressed both hands to his ears, then his eyes (which did nothing), then his ears again. “Is this how every kid feels when they think about their parents having sex?!”

Instead of the exhausted sort of patience Jack expected from such a display of childishness, North’s eyes grew large and wet with adoration. “You think of me like parent?”

Jack paused his dramatics to really look at North. Did the big guy really not know? Jack’s hands fell away from his ears as he said, “Yeah. Of course.”

The next thing he knew, North had Jack in a tight hug that was all warmth and excitement, with no room in between for things like doubt or air to breathe. Jack’s staff was somewhere on the floorboards behind him, but Jack’s feet weren’t on the ground to help him find it. Jack focused on holding onto North instead, and on the fact that North apparently hadn’t known the role Jack imagined for him in Jack’s life.

“I did not think you wanted parent, Jack,” North said without putting him down. His arms loosened a little, but that was as far away as North was letting him get for now. “Three hundred years is a little old for coddling,” he teased.

Jack laughed. He could admit the situation was a little strange, but they were spirits. They couldn’t help that. “You’ve still been around longer,” he pointed out.

North nodded in that sagely way he did and set Jack down on his perch. “Even better that I be the one to talk to you, then.”

Jack was going to wholly ignore that for as long as he could, because parental talks with their children about dating were never not horribly embarrassing for the kids. He leaned around North’s bulk to look Krampus dead in the eyes.

“I’m calling you Krampapa now.”

It was only fair. He was married to Jack’s dad, right? That’s how that worked.

Krampus didn’t look even mildly upset, which sort of mildly upset Jack, actually. He lifted his horned head in a regal yet foreboding way and simply said, “Acceptable.”

...Man really knew how to take the fun out of things, didn’t he? Jack was going to have to try harder.

After all, they were like family now.

North was beaming at the pair of them, and that made Jack feel better about everything instantly.

“About Pitch—”

Well, there went that.

A sudden cold wind in the workshop shut them up, and while Jack looked around to find the source, he noticed Krampus staring at a very specific spot, like he already knew what was coming. He probably did.

“Now,” a voice echoed hollowly off the wooden walls at the same moment that the lights dimmed in the workshop, and Jack knew instantly who it was. How could he not? “Why did you ask me here, Krampu—”

Pitch Black stopped short barely a second after materializing and stared with wide eyes at his audience full of Guardians.

He whirled on Krampus. “Is this a trap?!”

Unfortunately, Jack’s tone dead, “Yes,” coincided exactly with North’s empathic, “No!”

Pitch sized them up. Krampus wasn’t giving anything away, so Pitch had to make due with the easier targets in the room. Jack figured his defensive posture, curled half-behind North on the worktop, probably gave everything away.

He turned back to Krampus. “What is the meaning of this?”

“That I love my husband very much,” Krampus answered without missing a beat. His voice carried the boredom of a thousand years and the experience of just as long. “And that I would do anything for him, including subject myself to this.”

North was beaming again.

Pitch met Jack’s gaze.

“Explain.”

Jack pressed his lips together. Pitch wasn’t going to like this. “North is giving me The Talk.”

Pitch visibly winced and glared at Krampus. “And you brought me here for this?”

“Of course!” North boomed, arms thrown wide in the air in celebration. “It cannot be just one! Dating good guys can be frustrating, too!”

Krampus was nodding, but it looked like he was nodding to himself. “Some days.”

Pitch’s lip was pulling up into a snarl. The last thing Jack wanted was for him to lash out and make his relationship with the other Guardians even worse, so he slid down from the table and held his hands out placatingly. “Look, it’s okay. They mean well. Alright?”

Pitch didn’t look convinced, but the way North set a comforting and supportive hand on Jack’s shoulder and Krampus outright stared him down seemed to keep his behavior in check for now. He was going to be so grumpy later.

If Pitch managed to behave for this whole thing, Jack would owe him so many cuddles.

North seemed to take Pitch’s lack of retort as consent, because he slapped Jack on the back and loudly proclaimed, “First things first!”

He turned to face Jack and held his shoulders with both hands. “I have noticed in meetings. You react when Pitch Black is said. You should not.”

The hot feeling was returning to Jack’s face. His ears felt particularly on fire this time. “Am I really that obvious?”

North shrugged one shoulder, swaying his head back and forth as if to say ‘not really.’ However, Krampus behind him nodded resolutely. “Yes.”

North gave his husband a look. “Only if you know what to look for.” He smiled reassuringly at Jack and patted his shoulder. “I think Tooth and Bunny think it is to do with Tooth Palace and Easter Incident.”

Jack didn’t feel reassured at all.

“And you!” North said, spinning dramatically toward Pitch. “Work stays at work! You must let Jack be Guardian.” With a theatrical whirl, North turned on Jack. “And you must let him be Boogeyman!”

Pitch was taken aback. It was written all over his face. “But all you ever do is try to stop me.”

North’s hands came up in a very cut and dry sort of gesture, one hand slicing into the other with every word. “Work stays at work!” Then he pointed at Pitch. “When Jack is Guardian, he stops you. When Jack is boyfriend,” North lowered his hand and shrugged, “he does what he wants.”

“What about when I’m both?” Jack couldn’t help but ask.

North’s gaze softened immediately. “Dangerous to think, Jack. You want him to be happy, yes? Then you must let him be who he is.”

That was incredibly profound and Jack honestly hadn’t even considered it before. The shock he was feeling was written all over Pitch’s face when Jack locked eyes with him across the room. Jack did want him to be happy, and they had been working on compromises, but… overall, yeah. North’s words made sense.

"And now about making love!"

"Nope," Pitch said. The assembled group almost hadn't heard him though, because he’d dropped through the floor so fast.

That was his cue. Jack turned on his heel and took the opportunity to yeet himself through the open workshop window. "I'm out."

Left behind, North stared in stunned silence at the place where Jack had been. He eventually turned to Krampus, clearly confused. "Did I say something?"

Krampus took his own time to stare at his partner. North could be dangerously oblivious. It would be annoying if it were not so adorable. He patted North's hair comfortingly.

"Too much, My Love. Too much."