#but I thought it was far funnier to drawn them than any of my other OCs

[astaroth1357]

I don’t know if this’ll make the cut, but brothers with an MC wearing their (the brothers) clothes, and I’m talking full ensemble not just a random jacket or accessory (you can delete if you’re not comfortable of course)

So when left with the question of whether this was a full on clothing theft or a cosplay of some kind, I'm going with theft because that's just funnier to me. Just a little MC marching around in Beel's tent of an outfit… Hilarious. 🤭

MC Steals the Brothers’ Outfits

Lucifer 

It started out like any other morning, Lucifer woke up early in bed - as he always does - but when he rolled onto his side to stir the MC, he found their side of the bed empty… 

Normally, he’d have thrown up the alarm in an instant, but his mind was still groggy as he tried to recall what happened the night before… He could have sworn the MC slept over… unless…

MC: “Good morning, love.”

Their voice was enough to get him sitting up again and he uh… well he was not prepared for what he saw. The MC was sitting with their legs crossed at his desk, attempting to imitate his “I’m-in-Complete-Control-Here” energy as much as they possibly could, but with an added detail…

They were wearing his clothes. His favorite suit to be specific which was tailored to his much bigger frame, resulting in a frankly ridiculously ill-fitting look on their smaller human body...

MC: *picks up a poisoned apple off the desk, continuing their very best Lucifer-impression*  “You should get up, love. We have an early meeting today and we can’t keep Lord Diavolo waiting.”

The MC appeared to polish the apple with his sleeve for a moment before taking a bite, looking pleased with themselves before their eyes widened in complete horror. It only took a split second for them to spit the unchewed hunk of apple into a nearby waste basket and toss the apple away in panic.

MC: “Ah FUCK!! I forgot I can’t eat these!!! SHIT!!”

Their panic only grew as Lucifer could no longer hold in his laughter, the booming volume of which is enough to wake up all his brothers throughout the House.

MC: “Lucifer, don’t just sit there laughing!! Bring me some water or something!!! LUCIFER!!!”

Mammon

Look, Mammon always gets up late so not being able to find, like, any of his normal clothes was a serious problem! He’d already dug through half his closest and still couldn’t find anything!!

He had a photoshoot that he had to get to in less than hour and he still needed to take a shower, get dressed, get his stuff together, then bolt halfway across town before-

MC: *literally kicks open his door Kuzco-style* “Yo, yo, yo!! What’s up, Mammon??”

First off, the sudden loud bang of his door hitting the wall nearly scared him out of his skin, but before he could even yell at the MC for their weird entrance his brain had to process what they were wearing….

Good news! He found his missing clothes, the MC had thrown them on while he was sleeping - sunglasses and all - and now stood before him with a toothy grin on their face.

MC: “What's the problem, Mams? Lucifer got your tongu-EEEK!”

Apparently, they weren't expecting Mammon to literally lunge at them and capture them in a tight hug, practically lifting them off their feet with a laugh.

Mammon: “What'cha think your doin', MC?? I'm gonna need those back ya know?”

MC: *laughs loud and bright, throwing their arms around his neck* “I know, I know... But I wanted to surprise you!” *stops laughing suddenly and blinks* “Huh…”

Mammon watched the MC experimentally lift his glasses off their nose then put them back down, repeating the action several times before snickering.

Mammon: *frowns* “What's so funny?”

MC: “Nothing really but… Mammon, do you wear these just to make everything look like gold?”

Mammon actually had to pause before responding, pulling the MC closer with a devilish grin.

Mammon: “Nah… I ‘cause got all the gold I need right here~”

MC: *chuckles and nuzzles his cheek* “Nice save...”

Mammon: *his cheeks flush and he frowns* “I dunno what your talkin’ about... But could ya go put on a t-shirt or somethin’? They’re paying me big for this shoot and I really gotta go!”

Leviathan 

Another convention, another cosplay far too complex to ever hope to peel out of… Though Levi would never regret wearing his five piece Lord of Shadow cosplay, it’s a heavy thing and certainly not something he can change out of in a bathroom stall…

When he finally got back to the House, he wasn’t looking to do anything but drag his tired body back to his room and change into some more manageable clothes… but… well…

When Levi opened his door, he saw the MC sitting alone at his computer desk playing a game by themselves. That was all well and good but… WHY IN DIAVOLO’S BLACK HELL ARE THEY WEARING HIS CLOTHES???

When they heard the door, the MC whipped their head back and they both stared at each other in an awkward silence… His clothes didn’t even fit them right!-or maybe they did?? His mind was panicking because they had the collar of his shirt covering their mouth and it looked so moe it was actually ridiculous!

Levi: ……….

MC: ………….

MC: …. “I can explain.”

Levi: ……. “Y-yea?”

MC: “I was having trouble on this one level and you wouldn’t pick up the phone… so I thought ‘What would Levi do?’... and it escalated…”

Levi: “You think??”

Levi felt like he could die right there, but he wasn’t entirely sure if it was from embarrassment or happiness… On the one hand, the MC was  literally trying to be him in order to get better at video games - which was flatteringly adorable… And on the other, the MC is pretty much cosplaying as him, right in front of him… and looked so damn cute doing it too… 

MC: “Is this weird…? This is weird. I’m sorry, I’ll go change-”

Levi: NO-agh! *he throws a hand over his own mouth, surprised by how loud he just shouted* … “U-uh… no it’s fine…”

MC: “Okay...?”

MC: “But could you put your phone down? I think you’ve been taking pictures for the past two minutes…”

Levi looked down at his hand and sure enough he unconsciously pulled out his phone in camera mode and has been spamming the “Capture” button long enough to have his thumb cramping...

Levi: “Oh.” *stops for a moment, then seems to second guess himself*

Levi: “Uh… just one more?”

Satan

When you share a house with Mammon, you grow accustomed to not being able to find things from time to time, but an entire outfit?? 

When he woke up one morning to find that he couldn't find any of his normal clothes, he blamed Mammon right off the bat… 

I guess in hindsight, what would Mammon want with his jacket? But anger doesn't always jump to the most rational conclusion, you know?

After searching for "long enough," Satan stormed out of his bedroom on a warpath. He didn't stop his march until he was banging on Mammon’s door with a closed fist!

Satan: “Mammon!! What did you do with my clothes you useless, money-grubbing asshole!?”

When he didn’t get a reply, likely because Mammon was hiding in his closet or something, he was about to kick the door in when he felt a tap on his shoulder...

When he turned his head, much to his surprise, he found his missing clothes!... They were on the MC - right down to the single sleeve - and the MC met his eyes with a mischievous grin…

They had a book in their hands he recalled seeing once at the library: "101 Ways to Prank Your Partner," open like they'd been reading down the hallway.

MC: … Page 47.

They winked at him before bolting back down the hallway in a fit of giggles and oooh, it was on now.

Satan spent the morning chasing the MC through the House, both laughing and dashing around in reckless abandon. He really needed his clothes back and he wouldn’t mind an extra hour or two with the MC when he got them… 😏

Asmodeus 

Asmo isn’t exactly a morning person… Though he forces himself awake so he can perform his wake-up routine, by the time he comes to the table it’s a hit-or-miss on how irritable he’s going to be...

Of course, his favorite outfit suddenly disappearing from his massive closet did not help his mood in the slightest!

Who would take his clothes?? Well, that’s not even a question - surely plenty of his devoted, adoring stans would kill to even have his scarf, so maybe the better question was, “How??” Lucifer keeps all the doors and windows magically sealed at night! (He would know, having been locked out on numerous occasions)

Asmo was tearing through his closet, wracking his brain for any place he might have left his beloved outfit, before he heard someone clear their throat by his bedroom door.

What greeted him was a lovely look at the MC wearing the missing clothing in question, even with all the grace and style he would himself!

Asmo: *jaw-drops* “MC???”

MC: *smirks at his delight and winks at him* “Looking for something?”

They strutted into the room with the confidence of a mock fashion model and took a silly vogue pose in front of the closet, barely holding in a fit of laughter from their actions.

MC: “… Or just at me?”

Asmo, of course, snatched them right up in his arms with a delighted squeal.

Asmo: “Oh. My. Diavolo!! MC, you look just gorgeous!!!- Because you look like me, of course.” 🤭

MC: *laughs and cups his cheeks to pull him closer* “Who wouldn't want to be you, Asmo?”

Asmo: “So true… But you’re already perfect, my love~” 😘

And he went on to prove that to them all morning long...

Beelzebub 

Beel didn't even get the chance to notice his clothes were missing. He had a tournament the night before and was sleeping even harder than Belphie that morning...

What woke him up was the smell of food: scrambled shadowhawk eggs, hellboar bacon, pancakes with nightshade syrup…. 

Beel's stomach had him sitting up long before his eyes ever opened, drawn in by his nose alone.

MC: “Beeeeel. Wake up!”

Beel's eyes dragged open at their request and what he found had his mouth watering... The MC had brought him a dining cart with a complete breakfast spread, brimming with portions only Beel could ever finish, but for once he wasn’t looking at the food.

The MC, for whatever reason, had decided to put on his clothes… And keep in mind that Beel's built like an ox compared to almost anybody. They were absolutely swimming under all that fabric (thank the Devil for his suspenders…) 

MC: “Congratulations!!!”

They throw their arms up excitedly, making the unzipped jacket balloon out like a parachute behind them… It's a remarkably cute image.

Beel: *blinks* “Oh.” *he gets a little pink, still very confused* “What did I do exactly…?”

MC: “You won the championship last night, remember? Or did you forget already??”

The MC takes a step to the side and begins pointing at the plates on the cart.

MC: “I thought we'd celebrate with some breakfast! I brought you eggs, bacon, pancakes, toast, cereal-”

As they continued their list, Beel's hand naturally reached out towards the cart eagerly, before something finally clicked in his head. WHY were they wearing his clothes??

Beel: “Wait. MC, why are you wearing-...?”

MC *holds their hand up* “Hold on!”

MC: “-oatmeal, muffins, banana bread, annnd…” *they get onto the bed and plop down onto his lap with a grin*

MC: “Me! Congratulations, Beel!!”

They lean up to peck his cheek while his arms automatically wind around their waist. The combination of their scents already bringing out a different sort of hunger in him…

Let’s say if this is his reward, he'll never lose a game again. 😏

Belphegor 

Belphie was in the middle of his afterschool nap in the library. The day was exhausting, so he didn’t even bother changing uniforms… The couches there were comfortable and the space was quiet, really nothing should have woken him up...

But somehow, for whatever reason, something did. A tug… Something was chasing away his dreams by tugging on the cow pillow in his arms.

MC: “Beeelllppphie….”

The tugging did not cease and he half growled in response, still keeping his eyes firmly closed.

Belphie: “What now...?”

MC: “I need this…” *they tug on the corner of the pillow a little harder* “Can you let go please…?”

What kind of question is that?? No one takes away his favorite pillow!

Belphie: *hugs the pillow tighter* “Go away, I'm trying to nap…”

MC: “Noooo please…! I need it for something right now…!!”

They started really pulling on his pillow now and he only held on tighter in annoyance. Since they wouldn’t leave him alone, he finally opened his eyes.

Belphie: “MC! Why are… you..?”

His voice trailed off as he finally saw the MC standing there in his usual outfit. His cardigan was so long over their arms that they had to grasp his pillow through its sleeves...

While his drowsy mind tried to catch up, the MC snatched the pillow from his grasp with one swift yank.

MC: *grins* “Mine now!”

They turned to bolt out of the library, but Belphie snatched them by the waist and dragged them back to the couch with him.

Belphie: “Fine, but then I get a new pillow.” 😏

The MC yelped as he flopped on top of them, pulling them close like a body pillow and resting his head into the crook of their neck to enjoy the soothing smell of their scent mixed with his.

MC: “W-wait Belphie…!” *tries to wiggle out from under his surprisingly heavy deadweight* “I was just playing around…! Please don't fall asleep on me!!”

Belphie: *yawns and settles in, already drifting off* “Too late… G'night, MC…”

MC: “Belphie!!!” 😫

They could complain all they liked, he wasn’t going to let them go for a few hours. Cute or not, MC, nobody takes his pillow!

[worth-more-than-two-thousand]

Omega’s Observations

Request:  Congrats on starting the blog!! Pumped to have a new writer's work to read 🥰 If you need some requests, how about an echo/gn!medic reader who he develops a crush on, for a little of that sweet sweet mutual pining action✨ Dunno if you write pre-citadel or just BB echo, but I'm happy with either. Have a good weekend!! :) (@krussyfed)

Author’s Note: Whew! This took a while for me to get to a place where I felt good about posting it. Honestly, as most of my writing does, it got a bit away from me, but that’s because I love fleshing out a story, showing-not-telling, and building on events from the canon. But if I saw this through until the end, I probably wouldn’t end up posting this for months! So I hope what I have here is worth the wait, and if you want more, let me know! 

Story Notes: Unbeta’ed, no obvious warnings. 

🖑 🖑 🖑 🖑 🖑 🖑 🖑

Ask her brothers to describe her, and ‘still and quiet’ would not be two of the words any of them would use. 

Hunter would call her curious to a fault, then ruffle her hair to let her know that he meant it in the nicest way possible. 

Wrecker would boom with laughter, proclaiming her one of them (“Always ready for action and adventurin’! Let’s go get those gundarks!”). 

Tech would probably consider for a moment, then use a four-syllable word. Like effervescent.

Echo would call her young and energetic, but his brow would furrow as though this might be a bad thing. Then he would inevitably follow up with a reminder to stay within sight and keep out of trouble. She didn’t mind. She knew he just worried about her. Omega would always reassure him that she would keep close to her brothers. Of course, whether it actually happened was usually another thing. 

Crosshair, if he was with them, would probably call her troublesome. 

But really, this was a tactical advantage. Her brothers never expected her to be still and quiet, so she could settle in and be observant when it was least expected of her. 

Omega was actually quite accustomed to being taciturn, at least when she needed to be. Her time with Nala Se, after all, was mostly like this. 

Watching over like a stone guardian as Nala Se pored over the capsules containing her modified brothers…

...being as unobtrusive as possible during another endless meeting with Lama Su…

...laying noiselessly and without complaint as Nala Se inserted a needle into her arm for yet another blood sample…

 These days, Omega could be as boisterous and vivacious (two more words Tech had taught her) as she wanted to be, so long as there was no chance of enemies being around. The only time she was obediently still by choice during these times was when she was being treated by Y/N, Clone Force 99’s on-board medic. 

Again, this was mostly out of habit from her time with Nala Se, but it wasn’t as bad. For one thing, Y/N fielded all of Omega’s questions with unending patience. And their hands were less clinical, more gentle than Omega was used to. Nala Se was efficient, not a movement wasted in her examinations. Y/N, however, always offered a comforting touch on the back after a scary encounter, and would gently but firmly place their hands on Omega’s face to look her in the eye to assess emotional well-being. 

The first time Y/N had done this was on the Ordo Moon, as Y/N was finishing wrapping up Omega’s small scratches on her hands and knees from her misadventures in the underground tunnels. 

At this point, not used to such close eye contact, Omega averted her eyes and looked over Y/N’s shoulder for something to distract her from the unusual awkwardness she felt. 

Her eyes met Echo’s. 

Her awkwardness vanished as he seemed to startle, a faint flush appearing on his neck, as he coughed, crossed his arms, and turned away, suddenly much more interested in examining the ship’s ceiling than anything else. 

What an interesting reaction. Her brain filed it away, curiosity piqued.  

Then, over the course of a few weeks, Omega confirmed her suspicions. 

Echo was always watching Y/N. Echo liked Y/N. 

Omega caught him absentmindedly gazing at Y/N’s hands as they tapped thoughtfully on a datapad while Wrecker carried new medical inventory aboard the Marauder during a supply run. 

After Wrecker’s successful inhibitor chip removal on Bracca, and Tech volunteered to go next, Omega watched Y/N’s hands fly across the medical controls, fierce determination sharpening their features. Glancing up, she saw that Echo’s attention was similarly arrested, a look on his face that was bordering very close to adoration. 

He seemed most captivated by Y/N’s hands, however, whenever they were treating him personally for any ailments or injuries. Echo always sat pin straight, almost comedically robotic (it would be funnier, but his history brought a sort of cruel irony to the thought) and allowing Y/N to turn his body and maneuver his prosthetic arm however was needed without any fidgeting or complaint. 

But his eyes were another story. Darting back and forth everywhere their fingers touched, such a stoniness to his face that Omega was certain he was committing every graze, every feather-light touch, to memory. Y/N, as always, was so focused on the medical work that they never seemed to notice. 

Omega saw things, though. Echo was like Y/N’s shadow, often slipping into the same room or area Y/N was in, like a ghost. She observed with fascination how he always angled himself to face her whenever there was a conversation in the cockpit. It didn’t matter if it was just the two of them, or if the entire squad was there and discussing a mission, it was as though he had attuned himself to wherever Y/N happened to be and was drawn to them.

Like a sunflower always facing the sun. 

She saw in the field how Echo, not Hunter, was usually the one to call the Marauder to check in or alert Y/N to any injuries that would need to be treated when they returned. How the space between his brows would crease whenever they would radio in but only receive the static of communications interference. 

Or worse, no answer at all. 

Echo wouldn’t say anything, but Omega felt that her brother’s steps would quicken, just a little. And she wasn’t sure she was just imagining a sudden sense of urgency in the air as they completed the mission, with just a bit more efficiency, a bit more ruthlessness than was usual. 

Omega saw how Echo always let out a tiny breath in relief, as though he had been holding it the whole time, whenever they returned to the Marauder with its medic unharmed. 

And she would never forget that one time they had returned to the Marauder, doors blasted open, interior trashed, with no medic in sight and droplets of blood leading away from the ship. 

Omega had never been in war, had only heard about it passively from the conversations between Nala Se and Lama Su, then a bit more directly from her brothers once she was allowed out of the private lab. 

She had once asked Tech about the war, but his response clearly paled in comparison to the dark look on Echo’s face, as they battled their way through enemy after enemy to rescue Y/N.

Omega felt as though she understood war a little bit more after this. At least its motivations. 

It took longer for Omega to figure out whether her brother’s feelings were reciprocated. Y/N’s affection wasn’t as obvious, but the trick was to watch more for their actions than in body language. 

Since Y/N and Tech slept the least, they would swap bunks and so were usually on opposite sleep schedules. This meant that Y/N would stay up late into the night well after the rest of the boys had retired to their bunks, face alight in the glow of a datapad. They would concentrate fiercely, chewing on their thumbnail and pausing often to tap notes into the margins. 

Omega eventually managed to snatch and break into Y/N’s data pad, and saw that they were working their way through a series of medical journals, detailing the latest treatment for prosthetics. There were also several articles on treating post-traumatic stress disorder for former prisoners of war. 

Omega had even checked Y/N’s search history, and discovered that they had been using an encrypted channel to search for chatter on the whereabouts of the former 501st legion and its various members. Unfortunately, it didn’t seem like Y/N had much luck so far, but if the number of searches were any indication, they weren’t giving up. 

Omega wondered incredulously how none of her other brothers had yet caught on to the two’s clearly mutual affection for each other. Until she realized that no, they already knew.

Once, when Omega had offered Echo some of her Mantell Mix, Echo had sniffed it, much to her amusement. Her giggles subsided immediately when Echo murmured apologetically that he sometimes had trouble digesting pretty much any food that wasn’t nutritional paste, due to half his digestive system being completely artificial. 

Of course, this meant that he must have been experiencing constant abdominal discomfort, as they hadn’t had any nutritional paste on the ship since their escape from Kamino. Hunter once mentioned to her that even the plainest of rations seemed to bother him, but he gamely never complained.

One day, Hunter was giving out rations in the cockpit, and had already given Tech and Wrecker their usual. Then he pulled out a green, unlabeled squeeze packet instead of the usual rations bar, and handed it to Echo, who took it with some confusion.

“What’s this?”

“New brand. It should be easier on your digestive systems than the usual stuff. Tastier, too.” 

Echo glanced at the packet skeptically, unscrewing the cap and sniffing at its contents. 

“It smells...fresh?” 

“Try it,” Hunter urged him, to which Echo obediently tried a small amount. 

His mouth rounded in a surprised ‘oh’. Omega wished she could have captured the look on his face with a holovid. He stared at the packet in his hands, with a look that was a bit like wonder and amazement. 

This didn’t escape Wrecker’s notice, who immediately stood up in protest. “What? Why does Echo get something new to eat?” He glanced forlornly at the slightly crumpled, stale rations bar in his hand. “I want some!” 

“They’re too expensive for your appetite, Wrecker,” Hunter replied, just a bit too quickly, though none of the others seemed to notice. “Besides, you probably wouldn’t like it.” 

“I’ll be the judge of that!” Wrecker proclaimed, swiping the packet from Echo’s hands despite Hunter’s attempt to chastise him. Wrecker took a giant slurp. 

...and immediately spat it out, some of it splattering on poor Gronk. 

“Blech! That tastes weird.” 

“Probably because it’s made of fruits and vegetables,” Tech said dryly, “Your palette likely isn’t sophisticated enough to appreciate the subtle bitterness and natural sweetness that are characteristic of those food categories.” 

Echo eyed Hunter skeptically. “And we have the money to keep buying these?” 

Hunter hummed, closing the rations box and turning away from the cockpit. “Omega’s paying for it from her holochess winnings.” She startled at the sudden mention of her name. “We have extra to spare, for now.” Hunter subtly winked at her when the others weren’t looking. 

“Oh. Thank you, Omega,” said Echo, looking at her with true gratitude. Omega flushed a bit, but mostly because it actually didn’t have anything to do with her. She played along, however, and insisted it was no problem. It did seem to make him happy, so there was no harm in a small lie like that, right? 

She cornered Hunter later, though, and insisted on him telling her the truth. After wearing him down a bit, he finally relented.

“Okay, but you can’t tell the others, all right? Believe me, I’ve already tried to talk them out of it. But Y/N has been doing some medical work on the side, working at one of the clinics near Cid’s bar. They’ve been using the money to buy these.” 

Omega’s face screwed up in confusion. “Why can’t you just tell Echo that?”

Hunter sighed. “Because they don’t want Echo to know. Figures that Echo wouldn’t like them going out on their own to work in the slums for his sake. They’re probably right, of course.” He rubbed at his forehead, a sure sign of an impending headache. 

Omega frowned, then decided to go for it.

“You know they like each other, right?” 

Hunter blinked at her, looking surprised. At her determined stare, he gave a sigh and muttered something like, ‘I’m getting too old for this’. He proceeded to explain patiently to her that perhaps Echo and Y/N liked each other, but pointed out how awkward or difficult it could be to have a romantic relationship in such close quarters, especially when they as a team also had bigger things to worry about. 

It sounded like Hunter had given this exact speech at least twice before. 

So Tech and Wrecker knew, then, but were being polite about it (or, in Wrecker’s case, had probably gotten an earful from Hunter earlier about tact and ‘minding one’s own business’). 

Well. That wouldn’t do. 

By the time Echo got up the nerve to say anything, he’d probably be old! (Omega wouldn’t, but she tried not to think too hard about that particular fact.)

So, she began to scheme. Quietly. 

She had the tactical advantage, after all. 

[askthekuvaqbrothers]

I know you're still working on other prompts, but here me out... the boys meeting Wenzel and Toni for the first time. :)

“Have you considered schooling?”

Hermes withheld his mumbling, “I've…. Considered.”

Taking a tea break with Gizmo had become a regular occurrence during work, letting the two talk without having to take up more time in the day with official meetings. The town's service provider was a trusted confidant to Hermes, and not just because of patient confidentiality.

He'd already offered so much assistance in the wild world of child raising, and he'd probably continue to as the boys got older. There were just a few suggestions that Hermes couldn't see working. Like that one.

“See, I've tried a little bit of home learning, but only Cletus is taking to it. The other two lose interest quickly, cause disruptions, and before you know it the three are off doing something else."

“Well, a structured environment like a classroom, and peers of similar age, might just be the thing to change their behaviour. There aren’t many children in Kuvaq, but perhaps if they could make friends with one or two others?”

The encounter with Burnert and his daughter Toni came to mind.

“Hmm.”

“Even just as a trial. And they know who to call if there's trouble.”

“Well...”

Gizmo poured him another cup, giving his best reassuring smile. He’d been so trusted in all matters around his sons, but he was also a great personal confidant. It must have been years since he’d been able to have someone he could talk with, intellectually, and trust to understand him.

“I suppose we can try.”

---------

“Yeah we're going to school!!" Rufus bounced around the house, bumping into furniture and his family alike. When he shoved into Cletus’ shoulder, the green-haired boy shoved back.

“I bet you don’t even know what a school is.”

“Maybe so! But it means we're going somewhere new, somewhere outside, right Dad?!”

“That’s right, and because we’re going out, I need you all to be on your best behaviour. Understand?”

They all nodded, each at different levels of enthusiasm, with Argus pointedly looking at the floor.

“Good. Now hold hands, and let's go see what school is like.”

Cletus took Hermes' hand, the old man hunching a little further so he didn’t have to reach too far, while Rufus took his free hand and Argus took the remaining one to stop any wandering fingers.They left their small house and made their way across town, heading out the gates and down towards a smaller walled area which has its own gates, and gate keeper, who greeted them warmly.

“Hello there, would you happen to be the Herald family?”

“Yes, I’m Hermes and these are my sons Cletus, Ruf- Rufus stop that.”

He was swinging his arms wildly, to which Cletus was resisting and Argus was competing against. A measured frown got them to calm the motions.

“Cletus, Rufus and Argus. They’ll be trialing school today.”

“Wonderful! I’m Gary, Kuvaq’s main teacher. Most other kids are here already, so if you’d like to come in.”

Gary pushed open the gates, revealing a large flat and open area that looked to have most hazards removed. A large rectangle was drawn in the centre, while off to the left were rows of tables and chairs placed in front of a large board. Towards the back was a standalone building with a large window and an awning, and to the right was another that had various extensions added onto it. There were several children of varying ages playing within the space, once of which Hermes noticed was Toni, who was with another girl looking at a cactus.

“Were you planning on staying for the lesson Mr Herald?”

“Oh, as much as I’d love to, I must get to work soon. Though if there’s any trouble-”

“Haha, don’t worry, Gizmo has informed me of the situation. I keep flare guns for communication just in case!”

Gray pulled the gun from the waistband of his pants, grinning, before slipping it back into place. He then cupped his hands around his mouth, calling out for the children to gather. Hermes knelt to address his sons.

“Alright, now please, be on your best behaviour-”

Rufus slapped a hand on his mouth.

“Shushushu… shu. You have n’uttn to be worried about!” He slung his arms over his brother's shoulders, dragging them into an unwanted huddle, “We’ll be good!”

With a hopeful smile, Hermes drew them all into a hug, praying that nothing would go wrong.

--------

“This is boooring.”

Gary was going on and on about something, which Rufus could only define as completely uninteresting. They were sitting at the tables with all the other kids, who were also at different levels of interest and very much not. Cletus had his eyes focused forward, but his frown was clearly aimed.

“Maybe to a simpleton like you, I on the other hand-”

“Come on, let's ditch.” Rufus turned enough to begin kicking Argus’s chair, “Hey, hey, hey.”

Cletus rolled his eyes, “He’s asleep.”

They stared at their brother, who looked to be staring ahead, but his mouth was slightly open and a tiny drip of drool was forming.

“Drat, how does he do that? I have to use little sticks to hold mine open!”

“Just still still for once and listen to the teacher.”

Rufus faced the front with a pout, swinging his legs. If he swung them far enough, he could see his toes on the other side of the table. And if he spilled down and stretched his toes, he could nudge the chair in front of him. Which he did.

Several times.

Until the kid who was seated in it spun around and growled at him.

‘Growling? Who does that?’

So obviously he growled back.

“Stop that! You’re being embarrassing.” Cletus hissed.

“Alright class,” Gary clapped his hands, “Now we’re going to pair off to do a task. I will give each group a letter, and you’ll have to think of a word that starts with that letter. Then, you need to figure out a way to have everyone guess the word, without talking!”

Whispers went around the group. Argus’ head fell forward before it snapped back to alert, giving Rufus a giggle, to which Cletus further shushed him.

“Now, the pairs will be-”

-----------

Argus kicked at the dirt, completely ignoring his work partner. He wasn’t interested in whatever they were supposed to be doing, he would much rather be playing with his brothers, or napping. Though he napped best around his brothers so really, he just wanted to be home.

“Hey! Are you even listening?!”

The boy he’d been paired with (‘S... Se..Sick? Sike?’) was around a head taller than him, and really thin, probably making him a few years older. Though that didn’t mean anything really, just that he probably shouldn’t look like he was about to throw a tantrum.

“This a baby task, meant for dumb little babies. Since I’m clearly not the baby here, then you should do all the work.”

Argus regarded him for a moment, then went back to kicking the dirt, gazing around the yard to see what the other two were doing.

“Hey, pay attention when someone talks to you!”

Rufus looked to be enjoying himself, waving wildly at the tiny kid he was with. Cletus was with the girl they’d met the other day, but he didn’t look comfortable-

There was a hand gripping the top of his head.

“Hey! What’s wrong with you?! Can’t do anything without your dumb brothers?”

Argus felt his eye twitch. The hand shook his head from side to side.

“I’m surprised I don’t hear rattling. Though, maybe afterwards I’ll go shake the other two to make sure you're not just sharing one bolt for a brain around.”

He grabbed the offending hand by the wrist in a vice grip, and looked up at the older boy.

“Don’t touch them.”

“Or you’ll what little baby-”

--------

Toni stared at Cletus.

Cletus… struggled to match her gaze.

It was really scrutinising.

He hadn’t even said anything to her yet, but here he was, stuck being judged by the girl who defeated all three of them.

“You really are a drago-”

Her expression became a glare.

“What was that?”

“...nothing.”

“Right.”

It softened again, and thankfully this time she turned her eyes to the sky.

“Sooo, what are we gonna pick?”

Cletus turned the metal square the teacher had given them in hand, until the line beneath the letter was at the bottom.

“We got the letter P.”

“Wow, I’m kinda surprised you knew to do that.”

“Someone in the family needs reading comprehension.”

“P… Hmmm…. Oh! I’ve got the perfect idea!”

“What, you’re not even going to ask for my thoughts?”

“I-” Toni was taken back a little by how offended he immediately looked, “...sure, what’s your idea?”

His smile was very proud, “Well, words are my speciality.”

Reading his fathers growing collection of books was one of his favourite things to do, making him much more versed in the world of words than either of his brothers, something he took great pride in.

“Well, for the letter P there is- plagiarize, prosecution, participate, profound, plutonium… pigeon.”

Toni just stared at him.

“And how exactly would we get people to guess those? I mean, maybe the last one, that would be funny, but the other ones...”

“If they can’t guess them, then we’re clearly too smart for them.”

She sighed.

“No, we’re going to do things my way. You just follow along.”

“Hu? But, you haven’t even said what word you thought of!”

She slung an arm over his shoulders, bringing him in close.

“Do as I say, or you’ll be playing ‘pigeon’, by yourself, in front of allll the other kids.”

He gulped, and nodded.

------------------------

“Hi!”

“H-hi.”

Rufus bent over at a 90 degree angle, staring directly into the face of his work partner.

"You're reeeeally small!"

He almost looked to get smaller when he sighed, which was even funnier. He couldn’t stop the grin covering his face, but he did manage to stick out a hand.

“I’m Rufus!”

He didn’t reach for it right away, adjusting his glasses and checking how far away the teacher was, before he accepted the shake.

“Wenzel.”

His whole arm was rapidly shaken.

“That’s a funny name!”

When he was finally released, Wenzel had to also adjust his hair and coat to straighten himself out. He had no idea what to make of this new kid.

“You look like you’d know a thing or two about funny.”

“Yeah I know all about fun! You wanna play?”

“We should be doing what the teacher asked.”

“Oh, right. What was that again?”

Wenzel tilted his head, watching the other boy curiously. He opened his mouth, but then reconsidered, instead holding up the letter square. Rufus just blinked at it.

“We have to pick a word, remember?”

Recognition, finally, as he waved his arms about, “An eff word!”

“Yes. And it has to be something we can pretend for others to guess.”

“Let’s pick something exciting! With energy!”

“Hmmm, energetic, f… what about fire? Teacher didn't say anything against using sound effects, so maybe-"

Rufus gasped.

"Great idea! It's like I thought of it myself! Or maybe I did, and I beemed it into your head- AH!” He grabbed his little round head, "We're connected Wenzel. With you as my sidekick, I’ll be unstoppable.”

“Sidekick-?!”

“Shush, say no more. I know exactly what you’re thinking now, and yes, it’s a great honor. Now we’ll just need a few things to do the best presentation ever!”

Wenzel wriggled from Rufus’ grip, stepping out of his arms reach for now.

“What ‘things’?”

“Well first I need a g-”

“CHILDREN. THIS IS NOT AN APPROVED SCHOOL ACTIVITY.”

“FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT!”

Both boys turned out the sudden shouting, looking to where all the other children were quickly gathering around Gary. Grabbing Wenzels hand, Rufus practically dragged his new friend to the scene, coming up behind their teacher to join the chanting mob.

“ARGH! Make him stop! Make him stop!!”

Gary was trying his hardest to simply push the two children apart, but when it proved useless he had to resort to using both hands to try to pry Argus’ teeth off the other boy's hand. When even that failed, Gary moved one hand to fumble for the flare gun, but had to drop it when Argus shifted his jaw to also bite down on the other invading fingers. Wenzel looked up at Rufus, who didn’t seem to care for the scene.

“Isn’t that your brother? Shouldn’t you do something?

Rufus was wholly focused on the gun on the floor, “Just what the presentation needs.”

“We won’t have a presentation if the teacher is hurt!” When he didn’t look convinced, Wenzel added, “Plus, you’d be showing off how cool you are to the whole class if you step in right now.”

Rufus finally looked at his short friend, then looked around the group. Cletus was watching beside Toni, both talking to each other, not looking like they were going to help out. He sighed, but looked a bit smug about it.

“Guess it all falls to Rufus to save the day.”

He stepped into the scene (while also grabbing the gun and slipping it into his belt pouch), and put himself between his brother and the others.

“Hey. You’re gonna ruin my chance to do a awesome presentation. Stop.”

He pinched Argus’ nose to get his attention. When they locked eyes, Rufus broke out his best pout, the one that alway got Dad to give him an extra snack. He knew that with any luck-

Argus let go, shaking his head to release Rufu’s grip, before spitting blood onto the ground. The boy he’d bit wailed, cradling his hand, and Gary took stock of his own injury, gaze flicking to the brothers in case of more violence. When it looked that Argus was now content with his actions, Gary stood tall to address the class.

“W-well, I hope you all take this as an example of what not to do during class. If you must bite someone, please do it off school property. Now, I’m going to take Sikke to see Gizmo. Argus, please see yourself to the timeout box,” He pointed to a little cage by the nearest building, “And the rest of you, keep working on your presentations until I return. Then we can all show off what amazing words we chose!”

With a grin, Gary left the school yard with Sikke.

-----------------

“I’m so sorry-”

“Please Mr. Herald, all things considered, a little biting should have been expected. A new environment can be stressful and scary to young children. I should have kept a closer eye on how he was reacting to others.”

Hermes wrung his hands, but tried to copy Gary’s smile. Yes, Argus had apparently come within millimetres of taking Sikke’s pinky finger off, but other than that (and a few nicks on Gary’s hand) the boys hadn’t caused any trouble. The school day had been mostly a success.

He’d made the choice to return with Gary after Gizmo had explained the situation, so he could scold Argus while the event was still fresh, and be able to watch Rufus and Cletus’ presentations before they headed home.

As they entered the yard, they found most of the children just playing their own games. When Gary pointed out the timeout box, they did in fact find Argus sitting inside, watching Rufus who was using the cage to climb up onto the building's awning. Wenzel was already on it, trying to help pull him up.

“Okay children! Back to your desks, it’s time to present!”

Once they’d gotten the two off the awning, Hermes collected Argus in his arms and stood where they could watch. Rufus wouldn’t stop squirming in his seat as each pair went up, though it was Toni and Cletus who went before him.

“Just like I said.”

“I know what I’m doing.”

Cletus held up the letter square, Toni cleared her throat.

“We got the letter P. Please try to guess our word.”

He squatted down to set the square aside, then curled his arms over his head and stayed in that position. Toni began to mime; acting like she was carrying something, setting it down, moving something up and down, picking the first again, but it was heavier now, then she shuffled next to Cletus and pretended to pour it on him. Cletus then slowly unfurled, until he was standing tall with his arms in the air, face dead serious.

Rufus lost it, almost falling from his seat with laughter.

To his credit, Cletus scowled, but remained in his position. There were 'umm's and 'ahh's around the group, until the girl Toni had been originally playing with raised her hand.

"Plant!"

"You got it An!"

Toni went over and gave her a high-five, while Cletus went back to his seat, head held high. He bopped Rufus on the head for good measure.

"Nice choice of word and wonderful display you two! Okay, the next pair is Wenzel and Rufus."

"Finally!"

He launched from his seat, dashing to the front with Wenzel following as close as his short legs would let him. When they were both facing the class, Wenzel held the letter square as high as he could while Rufus addressed everyone.

"Our letter was Fff! Watch and be amazed at our presentation!"

Hermes shivered.

"Why do I feel like…"

Wenzel began to mime clicking to rocks together.

"Chk, Chk, Chk-"

"BWOOSH!"

Rufus whipped out the flare gun, firing it at the nearby building, where the flare landed and ignited something on the awning. It only took seconds before something else caught, and quickly the whole thing was alight.

Rufus grinned widely.

"GUESS! Go on, GUESS!!"

Gary leapt forward, moving to usher the children away from the growing inferno, while Hermes stood in shock, feeling years slipping off his lifespan. When Argus began tugging at his collar, he got enough sense back to step away.

"I can guess this one. It's fire."

"... Good job. I think that's enough school for now. "

[blu-joons]

Fairytale Of New York ~ Mark Tuan

A cold hand slipped into yours as you began to walk along the busy streets of New York, the air was a lot cooler than you had imagined, with your scarf wrapped tightly around your neck to match the attire of most of the people you passed. The feel of his hand sent a shiver down your spine as you squeezed his palm to try and warm him up a little bit too.

Throughout the day it had been bitterly cold for you both, but as it neared the evening, and various displays of lights began to light up around the place it only added to the cool temperature. Whilst Mark stood beside you, pretending to be warm, the red tinge to his cheeks told you a different story.

“There’s a store over there, why don’t we get a drink?” You suggested, pointing to a small cabin at the end of the street.

Mark glanced across, his eyes lighting up as he saw a couple walking away clutching to cups of hot chocolate. “It can’t do no harm to go and explore.”

You pulled him through the gaps in the crowds to the cabin, grabbing your purse from your coat pocket and buying two of the largest size hot chocolates they sold, passing the first to Mark before taking one for yourself.

The two of you settled on a bench in the park whilst you let your drinks cool for a few moments, looking out across the city. Since you were little, you’d dreamt about spending a Christmas in New York, it was a story you’d told Mark too many times, but he was always more then glad to listen and see the way your eyes always lit up.

Your day had mainly consisted of exploring, with the weather so cold the two of you continued to walk around to try and keep yourselves warm, a bit of shopping, a lot of food, and albums worth of photos to take back home, the two of you had made sure to make the most of your trip.

And of course, Mark had absolutely loved helping you fulfil your dream. He wasn’t always sure if he was going to make it happen as he always got so busy this time of year, but with the help of the company and his friends he managed to find the time to fly you out. As he watched you take a sip from your drink, noticing the glisten in your eye, he was beyond happy that he did.

With your day so full, you didn’t think there was much more that Mark could do for your day, but as you finished your drinks, he pulled a photo out of his pocket, sliding it across the table to you. You picked it up and turned it over, seeing a picture of the Rockefeller tree.

“How do you fancy seeing the real thing?” He asked, as you let a squeal.

It was the one place you’d always wanted to visit at Christmas, nowhere did Christmas quite like New York, especially the Rockefeller Center. You didn’t even give yourself time to respond, grabbing his hand encouraging him to lead the way for you both.

“I can’t believe you organised for us to go,” you smiled, holding tightly onto his arm as you walked through the streets. It was heaving with tourists like yourselves, but neither of you seemed to mind, just enjoying having each other’s company.

The walk wasn’t too far for either of you as you soon spotted all the lights before even getting too close to the tree itself.

As soon as you were in front of it, you had your phone pulled out, snapping a photo. “It looks so much nicer than any photo I’ve ever seen of it. Look how big it is too, I wonder how much time they put into making this every year?”

“I bet they spend hours on it when it attracts so many people,” Mark mused from behind you, placing his arms around your waist, “it’s a lot bigger than I thought it would be, it makes me feel tiny.”

“I wouldn’t like to be the person doing the decorations at the top,” you chuckled, staring up to the tip of the tree. “It’s just so beautiful, I’d say it’s the perfect place for us to take a photo together.”

With that, Mark spun you around as you flipped the camera on your phone, holding it up. As your finger pressed to take a photo, you felt a chilled pair of lips press to your cheek, followed up by a nervous giggle. “Let’s take another, just in case that one didn’t turn out right.”

“You’re only saying that because now you’re nervous. Let’s see it, I’m sure it looks good,” you smiled.

And as you clicked on the photo to enlarge it, you couldn’t help but chuckle. You had the widest smile on your face as Mark’s lips rested against your cheek, his eyes were tightly shut, with strands of hair covering them slightly that had fallen from his beanie.

“See, you look handsome,” you complimented, saving the photo before Mark could argue any longer. “Maybe we should get it framed when we get home, it’s the perfect little keepsake for us to remember this trip by,” you suggested, watching as his head nodded back at you.

“Have you had a good time here?” He questioned, resting his chin onto your shoulder. “I wasn’t sure if I was going to be able to give you everything that you wanted to do whilst we were here, but I hope it was still magical for you.”

The whole trip had been a massive tick off your bucket list, it didn’t matter how much or little you did, just being in New York meant the world to you. And spending it with Mark, certainly was the icing on top of the cake.

“If you had the slightest clue of how many of my dreams you’ve made come true on this trip, then you’d know that I’ve had the best time ever. I can’t thank you enough for bringing me.”

His lips pressed to your cheek once more, “I had the best time too, I’m glad I got to be here with you.”

The two of you turned back to face the tree, feeling the breeze of an ice skater fly past you both. Your attention was quickly drawn to how effortlessly she moved, you only dreamt of being able to do what she did. Mark caught on too to your eyes following her around, the gasps of amazement that came from you every time she spun or leapt.

His hands tapped against your waist, bringing your gaze up to meet his eyes. “There was final surprise I had for the two of us,” he whispered, nodding towards the ice rink. “How do you fancy getting on and having a skate around too?”

Your voice shouted a little louder earning a few stares from the people around you, wrapping your arms tightly around Mark’s neck. He held onto you securely, blushing as your head nodded immediately in response to him.

“Shall we head round, the slot we have is soon?”

“Just when I think this couldn’t get any better,” you hummed, following his lead to the hut of the ice rink, queuing up behind several other couples and families. “How did you manage to keep this a secret? You’re usually terrible at keeping things from me?”

“Honestly, I’m not sure how I managed to keep it a secret either, but when I was looking at things to do, I saw so many things that said skating at Rockefeller Center. Plus, it looks pretty romantic, and I’ll do anything to get a kiss from you.”

Your eyes rolled, hitting lightly against his padded chest. “You didn’t have to bring me here to get a kiss, but you’ll certainly be getting plenty for bringing me here.”

“As long as one of us doesn’t end up in hospital, I’ll hold you to that,” he chuckled, “I can’t remember the last time I skated, so I’m not feeling particularly confident.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be there to hold your hand,” you assured him, intertwining your hand with his. “And if we do fall, it’ll just make it even funnier to look back on.”

“If you promise not to laugh at me, I’m sure we won’t have a problem,” he teased, “and if you do laugh at me, rest assured that I will definitely find a way to get back at you, especially when you least expect it.”

Your smile only grew as you made your way closer down the line and onto the rink. “I won’t laugh, I promise. Just as long as you don’t fall!”

“Just hold me hand and keep me upright, that’s all you have to do. Just getting off of here in one piece will be quite the achievement.”

“You’ll be fine, just trust me, I’ve got you…”

---

Masterlist

[letsbenditlikebennett]

Too Much || Ariana & Chloe

TIMING: Current PARTIES: @chloeinbetween & @letsbenditlikebennett SUMMARY: Ariana checks in on Chloe and they have a bit of a disagreement.  CONTENT:  Lydia plot CW, gun use mentions, domestic abuse mentions, sibling death mentioned

More time than she would have liked had come and gone since they got everyone out of Lydia’s home albeit not everyone made it out alive. Ariana had meant to check in sooner, but life had been more hectic than she would have liked and she wasn’t even sure Chloe would stay. Her only memories made here were those in Lydia’s prison of a home which were decidedly not pleasant ones. Since she had decided to stay, Ariana knew she could still help and make sure she gets properly acquainted with the town. She walked up to Chloe’s new place with gingerbread cookies in hand and a little hand drawn map in her bag to give Chloe a good run down of the town and where to avoid. She knocked on the door and waved when it opened. “Hey,” she said with a small smile, “Cookies as pr- expected? Not sure that works any better, but hey, cookies!” 

 Chloe had braided her hair so that it sat over her shoulder, tickling her collar bone. Agatha’s place was nice, and when she was at the office the peace and space it offered was a treasure. Lydia’s home had always been too perfect, their living areas impersonal and without trinkets. Whereas Agatha’s felt like a home should, like Agatha herself. Even the couch was soft and comfortable. It wasn’t permanent, but it felt safe, and after four years of sleeping in the same room with other people, being someplace completely by herself felt… wiggy. Which sucked, Chloe could admit to herself, but it was also true. Her foot bounced as she waited for Ariana to arrive, and still startled at the knock on the door. Her first instinct, still, was to hide to avoid the burning retribution of a fae promise broken, but Chloe forced herself to unlock her knees and stand up, walking over to the door and swinging it open. “Hey. Cookies sounds great. Come on in.” She hoped Ariana couldn’t hear her nervous heart trying to escape her chest. 

 Ariana was coming far too familiar with the fact there was no true fix for grief or trauma. Not only was it so different for everyone, but they were also both things that had to be felt through. Subdued with whatever little scrap of solace or hope you could find. It left her all too lost on how to help Chloe in moving forward. Being out of that horror house was a step in the right direction, but she was not naive enough to think it could all be that simple. She could hear the way Chloe’s heart rattled nervously in her chest as she came inside. “Thanks,” she said with a small smile as she walked in. This place was much cozier than Lydia’s home that felt all too cold in all it’s luxury, or maybe that was just because she knew how cold a woman Lydia was. She set the cookies down on the coffee table and gestured for Chloe to try one before fishing a map out of her bag. “So, I made this for you. It’s a little map of town with big red X’s over all the sketchy places… given like half those sketchy places are mime places.” She cracked a smile toward the end. Somehow the mimes managed to be scary and comical all in one. 

 Chloe stepped back stiltedly, revealed her nerves as she gave Ariana a wide berth to pass her by. There were two pictures of Ariana in her mind. There was the blue haired girl under the trees whose dimples sometimes caught the moonlight, flitting around with bats in her hands. That was the image that Sammy had painted for her. Then, there was the other, the monster with fangs and a horrifying maw, that had bitten awfully into Sammy’s thigh. Had done something so visceral to him that sweet, soft Sammy had become frightening to Lydia. Werewolf. Fundamentally dangerous. Chloe couldn’t quite shake that thought, nor make it align with the tiny, young girl in front of her. “You made-” Chloe cut herself off, clutching the back of a chair with a tight grip before lowering herself into it, taking one of the cookies and nibbling at the edge. “That’s… very thoughtful.” Chloe said. There were so many red lines on the sheet of paper. “Mime places, huh? That’s not a phrase you hear everywhere.”

 The day at Lydia’s, Chloe had said her name in a questioning way. It made Ariana wonder how much Sammy had been able to tell her. What harsh words Lydia had likely said about her. She had the feeling Chloe didn’t hold too much stock in Lydia’s opinion. Or maybe she did. Sammy had before he died. The thought made her stomach turn and she opted out of having one of the cookies for now. “For sure,” she said easily, “There’s been a lot of trial and error on that, but I’m pretty durable.” She laughed a bit at the mime part. Somehow, the mimes managed to be a more chilling aspect of the town, especially since they’d even tainted the town’s soccer ball supply. Or football as Kaden would downright insist. “Didn’t you know? White Crest has the most mime per capita of any town in the world.” Her faux enthusiasm faded and she added, “But trust me, I know. I’ve lived a lot of places and most of them don’t have mime establishments.” She looked around the place. It had that distinctly home-y vibe to it. She could see a coffee mug on the counter that had likely been used earlier that day. She was pretty sure she spotted some games on the shelves, too. “How are you adjusting though? It seems nice here,” she asked more seriously now. 

 Chloe looked over the map, her chest squeezing. Sammy should have had this. Sammy had nearly had this. If he’d crept out and stayed out until he was something Lydia had been forced to respect, maybe. If he’d been more careful, if she’d been less cunning. Chloe looked at Ariana without being able to hide how wary she was, wondering if whatever change he’d been offered would really be better. “I keep hearing about that. People talk about their mime hatred online. If I didn’t know- well, it would be pretty funny, if it really was just regular humans dressed up and doing work as regular mimes. Just not… whatever these mimes are.” Chloe shuddered, imagining mimes as just another type of fae, perhaps even more dangerous in their trickery because they never spoke and only listened, so would hear more of the mistakes she knew they could use. “I’m… adjusting. It’s… it’s hard, remembering that I can make choices. Staying with Agatha has been good while I find my feet a little. She’s very… understanding, and very kind.” She looked around, squeezing her hands into her thighs as if that might hide the trembling. 

 Despite the fact she’d experienced a fair amount of pain, Ariana couldn’t even begin to imagine what Chloe was going through. Just that one instance of her free will being taken from her had been damaging and left her filled with dread. That had to be so much worse for Chloe and she wished she could take it all away. But that wasn’t how pain or trauma worked and she hated how easily she could understand that. Focusing on mimes was easier even if they were frightening in their own way. “It would be much funnier if they were just people who were way too enthusiastic about their craft. Since they’re not, better to avoid them… or anything black and white. The soccer balls at the rec center once turned into a bunch of those mini mime monsters which was a big old yikes.” She leaned into the back of the couch and listened as Chloe spoke. All of this sounded incredibly difficult, but she was glad she had a safe place now. “It must be. If it helps to talk about it you can. I know I go back and forth on whether talking feels helpful, but like-- Here if you ever want to and all. I’m glad Agatha has been good. It definitely seems cozy here.” 

 “The soccer balls did what?” Chloe repeated faintly, sitting down by the kitchen table. She traced her finger over the most dangerous zones on the map, watching her fingers tremble. Today, her joints were painful and stiff, it would hurt to hold a pencil to add anything more. When Ariana spoke, Chloe nodded, but when she answered only spoke about Agatha. How could she tell Ariana that the young werewolf made her as nervous as anything else, that the tremors in her hands were because she kept thinking about the bloody stains on Sammy’s clothes even before Lydia had killed him? “It is cosy. I’ve been looking at a couple places so that I don’t overstay my welcome, and because I currently sleep in her office, and I’ve seen some potential places too. Next step is just working out the income, but turns out the unemployment rate around town is very small. People keep going missing, apparently, so there are a decent number of vacancies,.”

 “There’s a mime monster that hangs outside of Yours, Mime, and Ours. I’ve avoided it, but the soccer balls turned into like, mini versions of that. Melted into the same black goo. Wouldn’t recommend,” Ariana said with a shudder. With Lydia gone, the mimes had returned to their rightful place as the most unnerving thing in town. She noticed the slight tremor in Chloe’s hands and frowned for a moment. She wondered how much Sammy had told Chloe about her. Or if maybe Lydia had painted her to be this frightening thing. She shifted and looked around the room. “It is,” she said easily now, “I kind of lucked out with the pricing on my place, but I’m sure there’s other affordable options with… well, vacancies like the jobs. Were you looking for a certain type of job?” It wasn’t what she really wanted to ask. There were so many questions, but she knew how difficult it was for Sammy. The lighting outage in her building and the conversations they had through Blanche were indication enough of that. She bit her tongue and opted to listen instead. Maybe she’d open the floor for questions or whatever it was normal people did, but she still felt so unsure of how to help Chloe. She couldn’t help but wish Sammy was there with them. His awkward rambles to fill the quiet were much preferred to her own inner turmoil around the way things shook out. 

 “A mime m-” Chloe gulped, trying not to envision the paler version of herself that had wrapped her striped fingers around Chloe’s neck, promising an easier escape than the one she’d been granted. “Um, okay. Avoid the mime zones. I won’t forget!” She said, folding up the map to go into her purse, so that she wouldn’t have to look at it any longer. 

 “Yeah, I think I’ll find somewhere soon enough. I have some savings that did okay after not being touched for several years, which I guess is a plus in the being kidnapped column, I kind of feel like I’m intruding.” Chloe could feel herself rambling a little, talking too fast and too high for her lungs. She forced herself to lean back in her chair and take a deep breath, but could not imagine it made her look more relaxed.

 “I- I don’t know. I used to teach elementary students music, but… that has lost its appeal in pretty much every possible way. Even if it hadn’t…. I’m not exactly a desirable hire for working around kids, even in this town. But there are lots of possible jobs, so just applying as they make sense to apply to.” She wrung her hands, idly tracing over the ridges of her swollen knuckles. “What… What do you do? Are you a college student or something like that?”

 It was only natural for the mime stuff to make Chloe uneasy. Hell, most days it made Ariana uneasy and she had a lot more going her way when it came to self-defense. Even so, they were creepy fuckers and she would rather not deal with them if possible. “Good, glad I don’t have to convince you to stay away from them. Some people think it’s a joke.” She let out a nervous laugh. This all still felt strange and being around Chloe brought up some guilty feelings she wasn’t quite sure how to process, so she shook them off. 

 She made herself a bit more comfortable on the couch and listened as Chloe spoke. The small benefit definitely didn’t outweigh the trauma or what she’d been through, but it was good to know she had that small thing going for her. “That’s a good thing to have. Probably one of very few pluses, but you know, still glad it’s there to help you get back on your feet. And I’m sure Detective Keen wouldn’t have offered if she minded. People can be… surprising like that sometimes. My apartment also has a pull out couch if you ever wanted to crash, too. My girlfriend and Sammy’s ghost are both there a lot so uh, full house and all, but you know.” 

 “That makes sense. I can’t imagine there’s much joy left in the whole music thing… which fucking sucks, but it’s kind of one of those things that is what it is. There’s definitely always a lot of job openings so I’m sure you’ll find something soon enough.” Part of all those openings was how often people went “missing”, but it seemed a little bleak to say considering how bleak both of their lives had been. She found herself holding one of the pillows on the couch a little tighter as she tried to shake away that thought. “Trade school student, actually, but I coach kids’ soccer and I have an Etsy shop for my woodworking so I keep pretty busy. Managed to find a steal of an apartment, too.” 

 Chloe smiled with her lips closed, tugging at the fraying end of her sleeve end. “Detective Keen is a good woman,” Chloe agreed quietly, and opened her mouth to politely refuse the teenager’s offer when Ariana mentioned Sammy. Her mouth clicked shut, stunned, even as Ariana kept talking. Chloe knew better than most that young adults responded terribly to dire circumstances, and that this kind of black humour was to be expected but… Chloe had watched Sammy’s brains spatter the walls like goddamn confetti. His ghost wasn’t here, it was haunting the back of her eyelids every time she blinked. He shared the scope of her nightmares in equal measure with Anneliese and Todd and everyone else who had died in that palace if horrors. 

 She nodded along to whatever Ariana said, barely taking it in. She could barely hear it over the ringing in her ears, the grief rising in her chest like a tidal wave. It was as if the conversation had continued without Ariana waiting for Chloe to laugh at her joke, like she’d just slipped it into her conversation like a quiet barb. Maybe she hadn’t even noticed how much Chloe was revealing. “An etsy shop? That’s cool,” Chloe echoed emptily. She squared her jaw. “You shouldn’t joke about Sammy like that.”

 Ariana could feel Chloe disconnecting from the moment as she spoke. Maybe mentioning Sammy had been a bad idea, but his ghost was still hanging around, a fact she needed to speak to Blanche about. While she had regularly visited him for rooftop chats, it had to still feel isolating that he couldn’t respond with one of his signature rambles. It dawned on her how she’d give just about anything to hear one of them again. “Yeah, it’s pretty cool,” she said as she fumbled with her hands, not sure how to address the last part of that. “I wasn’t joking,” she stated albeit somewhat nervously, “My best friend and neighbor is a medium. We’re uh… well, we’re trying to help him move on. Find peace and all that. A little easier said than done considering. I know he’s relieved you’re out of there though.” 

 “Don’t,” Chloe insisted, Ariana’s flat suddenly shrinking around her. The softly decorated walls no longer felt inviting but suffocating, like the curtains might themselves wrap themselves around her throught. “Don’t,” Chloe insisted again. “I know you knew him and that he mattered to you, but you don’t just get to assign feelings to him. He’s dead, Ariana, you can’t just pretend he’s hanging around here like this. You don’t-” A lump in her throat promised to choke her, so Chloe stopped talking, looking at her swollen knuckles.  “This isn’t healthy, Ariana. I think you should probably leave for now.”

“Okay,” Ariana said quietly as she decided against pushing this. Part of her felt frustrated, she hoped maybe helping Chloe would help Sammy move on, but ghosts were too hard to believe in a world filled with fae and werewolves. She didn’t have the energy for this fight, the energy to push that this wasn’t just grief. It’s not like she was seeing Todd or Celeste, not that she saw Sammy, but she trusted Blanche did and there was no way she could have known about him otherwise. “That’s not what I’m-” She started to defend herself before slumping her shoulders and simply nodding. “Yeah, I should go. Just- I don’t know, let me know if you need anything.” And she walked away somehow feeling even more lost than when she arrived. Was it too much to hope that for once her efforts to help would actually be helpful?

[gurestart]

Schrödinger's Elemental

In which Gaster contemplates the anatomy and physiology of a fire elemental, while Grillby is just lazy. A short Grillster fic.

AO3 link

-

It was after hours at Grillby's. Gaster was sitting at the bar, observing Grillby as the bartender cleaned glassware. His gaze was drawn to the elemental's glasses. He knew hidden behind all the light reflected on the glasses were Grillby's eyes.

What would it be like to catch him unawares and take off those glasses? Gaster stifled a laugh behind his hand. Would Grillby's eyes dart around unfocused, trying to see where his glasses went? Or would it reveal a dashing face with smouldering eyes, unfazed by the antics of a mischievous skeleton? Heat spread across his face and his other hand shot up to better hide his blush. He had a hypothesis to test.

"Grillby!" he called out, grabbing the elemental's attention. He signed as he spoke, “Come here for a second.”

Grillby placed the glass on the counter and walked over. The moment he was in range, Gaster reached out and deftly plucked the glasses from the elemental's face, leaving Grillby no time to react at all. And the skeleton saw...

Fire. Bright orange fire curling down into a vague jawline and neck. Flames flickering over where a face should be, but no eyes or mouth or any facial features in sight. Until two horizontal slits of light, slightly brighter than the surrounding flames, shimmered into existence at the middle. It gradually thickened and blinked, forming a pair of shining white eyes that burnt curiously at the silent skeleton.

"Were your eyes closed the entire time?" Gaster exclaimed.

Grillby's eyes crinkled in confusion. "...No? They just were not there when you took my glasses off."

Gaster paused. Then he gaped, hands signing incredulously, "You didn’t have eyes?"

The elemental sighed, though there was a hint of fondness in his exasperation. "No, Gaster. I just sometimes get lazy about showing my eyes when I have glasses on. Others can hardly see my eyes past the glass anyway when there is so much light reflecting around it." He winked. "I’m a being of fire and magic. Just because you cannot see my eyes doesn't mean I am not looking at you."

"Oh," Gaster hummed contemplatively. Interesting. He had assumed Grillby's eyes would always be visible because whenever the glasses were off, he would see those two white slits blinking back at him. The only times Gaster thought he had observed their absence were when the elemental was asleep, the white slits disappearing as if covered by eyelids.

Wait. Grillby's words played through his mind again. I am looking at you when you do not notice. "O-oh," he stammered, no hands covering his blush this time.

Grillby crackled a laugh and plucked the glasses out of Gaster's boneless (hah) fingers, putting them back on. As always there were no discernible nose or ears for the glasses to perch on. They just sat nicely where they were supposed to be. Magic.

His eyes were covered again, but Gaster knew the elemental was smiling because he had parted his lips slightly to let the bright white light of his mouth stand out against the orange flames. Or perhaps... he had formed a mouth just to smile? He thought back to his observations of Grillby's face.

There were times when he could not see the white light of Grillby's mouth or a moving jawline when he spoke, so it was safe to assume the elemental’s mouth was not always visible when speaking. Which lead to the question of whether he actually needed a mouth to speak, or was his voice magically projected just as his sight was?

Yet Gaster had definitely seen Grillby's mouth move in sync with vocalisations before, usually when he was smiling or grimacing or laughing or just generally expressing emotions with his mouth while he talked. So did Grillby only manifest his mouth for certain expressions, or was it simply tucked behind a pair of invisible lips, waiting to be revealed at the right moment?

And what about his lips? Were they always there or were they created on demand? Gaster knew those lips existed somehow. They were a perfect pair of lips: soft, warm, inviting... and very distracting every time he had the opportunity to affirm their existence.

Yet right now he was hard-pressed to actually spot those lips among the flickering oranges and reds of a head-shaped flame. Thus, there was no indication if his mouth was actually in there, right now, as long as his lips were closed. Schrödinger's mouth... Perhaps he should open the box to confirm its contents existed—

"...Gaster."

The sound of his name shook him out of his thoughts. He realised he had been staring at Grillby's invisible-perhaps-hypothetical mouth for the entire time his mind went off on a tangent and was instantly mortified.

"Sorry about that," he laughed nervously, eye lights darting to and away from the glasses that may or may not had white slits behind them. "Got carried away thinking about—" your lips, and how I would like open them "—quantum mechanics."

Oh dear, that was the very opposite of smooth. He snapped his jaw shut and slapped his hands flat on the counter to stop digging himself into a hole.

If Grillby had visible eyebrows, they would surely be frowning now. All he revealed instead was a confused blue flicker of his flames. "My face made you think of... quantum mechanics?"

The skeleton shrugged. "Honestly, I don't know how my mind spun so far away."

Grillby was silent for a moment. Then, slowly and purposefully like the cat that swallowed the canary, he leaned forward and rested his arms on the bar counter, close enough that Gaster could feel the soft warmth of the elemental's flaming head against his cheekbones. The white line of his open mouth curved into a smirk. "I'd like to hear what was on your mind."

Being so close, Gaster could see past the reflections in Grillby's glasses to spot his eyes crinkling in amusement, and something else... deeper. Captivated by some unknown force, Gaster leaned forward as well.

"I was just thinking about how I’m not sure if there is always a mouth behind those lips of yours, especially when," he lowered his voice in what he hoped was a sultry tone—as sultry as he could in an accent as strange as his font, "I can barely see your lips."

"Well, having a mouth would mean there is a cavity in my head." Grillby winked again. "Let's just say I am quite adept at controlling the placement and temperature of my flames. As for my lips..." He was so close now that he only needed to whisper, "If you have trouble seeing them, perhaps you would like to check through other means if they are here or not?"

Grinning, Gaster whispered back, "I would very much like to."

And the box was opened.

-

A/N: This fic is probably a bit silly. I was thinking about how in anime and manga, there is a trope of taking off glasses in a seductive or comical manner. Like how a character would tip their glasses down to woo someone with their eyes, or their glasses get knocked off to reveal eyes squinting so hard they become two pairs of?? lips?? Anyway I thought it would be funnier if there were no eyes behind the glasses, just a blank face of fire. Then it got me thinking if Grillby as a being of fire actually needed facial features to sense the world, or did he just manifest them to let others understand his expressions, because not everyone can read the colour of his flames. Thus this silly fic and its probably inappropriate use of the Schrödinger's cat metaphor was spawned.

[kyloswarstars]

Come on! • Part 3 – „Midnight Talks“

Peaky Blinders • Mini-Series

Vendetta had brought your family back to Small Heath for a while. As a Blinder you received orders from Tommy like everyone else did as well. Your current one: Keep eyes on Bonnie Gold. When you first heard those words you wouldn’t have dared to imagine this order would take a complete turn on you.

Pairing • Bonnie Gold x Shelby!Reader

Words • 1.8k

Come on! • masterlist

/////

Oh boy, had it been a struggle to get permission to leave the city. Tommy was immediately like ‚NO! The vendettaaaaaaaa‘. Arthur ran around the kitchen like a mad cat, expected you to stay sat at the kitchen table as he gave a list of instructions on what not to do. Including not to smoke any of the weeds they might offer you or – and the even funnier one – get knocked up. To complete the protective trio, you imagined John sitting with you and just casually pushing a gun over the table. ‚You never know, kid‘, he said in your head.

It was Aunt Pol who tricked your older brothers into agreeing. You hadn’t asked her about it afterwards, but you could feel that she helped you because she was craving the woods just as much as you were. „We can see how honest Aberama Gold really is. He will prove his sincerity by protecting her,“ she explained. And that worked because on Friday you arrived at the forest. Together with Bonnie.

Friday was the day where he introduced you to his sisters, his father – officially, because you had seen him before but that was rather business wise – and to all his relatives that were staying at the campsite. You had hoped to sneak away for a while and just stroll around, just be. You didn’t get a chance, though. Being the ‚new‘ one there, you were drawn into a conversation whenever you had ended the previous one. Later in the evening you found out that they speculated you to be Bonnie’s new girlfriend, which you denied immediately – exactly like Bonnie who sat next to you. It was a rather awkward situation but everyone just laughed it away – and found the two of you strongly unconvincing.

Saturday was when you were able to sneak away. Bonnie followed you. He scared the hell out of you when he jumped from behind a tree. „Didn’t think I would notice you leaving, hm?“ He had teased you. And again, you turned away because it was flattering. Usually people didn’t pay that much attention. Bonnie wasn’t like everyone else.

He joined you for a walk through the trees. You picked up small twigs, shared childhood memories and didn’t realise all of the memories you talked about had John in them. It wasn’t upsetting when you realised it. later No clouds were lurking. Just Bonnie who patiently listened and then shared one of his memories again.

Saturday night, just like the night before, Bonnie gave up his bed for you again and slept on the floor of his caravan. You had told him it wouldn’t be a problem for you to sleep on the floor instead. It was his bed after all. He insisted you’d take it.

„Y/N? Are you awake?“

His whisper was very quiet in case you were asleep. You weren’t. „Yeah,“ you answered. After sharing all those memories today and being fine with it at first, you had this weird feeling now. It was none of those you were used to. It was something else you couldn’t pin down and it was bothering you to the point where it was impossible to just fall asleep over it.

Bonnie got on his feet, wrapped himself in his blanket and grabbed another one off the pile at the end of his bed. „Wrap yourself in yours and follow me.“

You didn’t react first while trying to answer the question as to why you should follow him.

„Or are you tired and want to sleep?“

„No.“ Getting up and wrapping the blanket around your body, you followed him outside.

Not far away from his caravan, he spread the blanket on the ground where the trees were further apart. Laying down, you could see through the openings in the treetops and were greeted by the night sky and all its shining stars.

Bonnie laid down next to you with his arm touching yours. The blankets were still between your arms but it felt way too close. Also way too good to move away, though.

„You do this a lot?“

„I think I don’t because every time I lay down here, I’m blown away all over again.“ His voice was as quiet as back in the caravan. Something about his voice being so careful and relaxed made you feel warm. „Are you having a good time, Y/N?“

„I am,“ you smiled. When you turned to your left you saw Bonnie staring at you. How long had he been looking at you instead up into the sky?

„I’m glad to hear.“ Somehow, it was impossible to return to the night sky. His face, illuminated by the full moon, felt more intriguing to look at right now.

That’s when this strange feeling hit like a horse’s hoof in the face. It made you question why you were even here. Why you had accepted his invitation. Why did you bring a potential vendetta target, you, here to Bonnie and his family? Are you fucking mad? He was way too good to be pulled into this. He shouldn’t have become a Blinder, his father should’ve never accepted Tommy’s deal.

You turned away from his face, sat up and stared back up through the treetops. „You do know this cap doesn’t come without burdens, right?“ Him being a Blinder, the chance of being used by Tommy if he needed an idiot to do god knows what, was unsettling. Or more upsetting. There was a lot you didn’t care about but Bonnie wasn’t part of that. You did care way too much for him. „Sooner or later you’ll die because you’re wearing this cap.“

This was another proof that you had let this come too far: He caught your sudden change of mood and it would’ve surprised you if he didn’t.

„Y/N, just like you, I make my own decisions.“ His voice was still relaxed, maybe even more so now to try calm you down. „I’d rather wear this cap, accomplish my dreams and die young than scrape a living without ever coming close to follow my dreams.“

„And you couldn’t have looked for someone else to help you with your dreams?“ Because if he had you wouldn’t have to care about if he got hurt one day. Or killed.

Bonnie sat up as well. „If I did… I wouldn’t have met you.“

„Bonnie.“ A deep sigh escaped your lips while your heart had problems to continue beating. You didn’t really know how to handle the conflict you felt right now.

„Did I say something wrong?“ He laid his head on his knees, watching you in the moonshine and was once again way too understanding and careful to do the right thing.

„You’re not doing anything wrong. That’s the problem…“, you admitted, finally looking at him again. 

„Why would this be a problem?“

„Because–“ Yeah, why? „Because…“ Putting your thoughts into words wasn’t that easy. Why was it always so hard to form sentences? Why could you not just send your feelings and thoughts to someone else – if it worked that way misunderstanding wouldn’t be word in the dictionary. „My head is telling me that I’m not good for you.“

Silence spread. You couldn’t stop the thoughts repeating in your head that you should get the fuck out of here and slap Tommy in the face for making you keep eyes on Bonnie Gold. You were unable to estimate what was going through Bonnie’s mind.

He laid down again, arms crossed under his head. „I think you’re forgetting I’m a dangerous man.“

That caught you so off guard, it immediately made you laugh out loud. The exchange of the first day at King Maine’s together popped up in your brain. Never would’ve you thought Bonnie would have such an impact on you.

„Y/N, you said you don’t do anything you’re not enjoying. Sometimes you have to take risks for the things, or the people, you enjoy.“

„You shouldn’t be a risk taker. I don’t want you to get hurt.“

Bonnie tugged at your arm and pulled you down to lay next to him again. Facing his eyes, he locked with yours and keeping them fixed so you wouldn’t dare to look away again, you felt his arm move. His hand was searching its way into your blanket mess and when it found your hand, Bonnie intertwined his fingers with yours. „To be honest: at this point the only one who could hurt me is you. By backing away from me.“

Fuck. Your heart might just burst into a million pieces. But at the same time it couldn’t be true because it beat so rapidly in your chest. He did everything right. And that was the problem. How were you able to resist falling for him if he gave you the feeling that being unconditionally you was everything he wanted you to be? No chance.

Grabbing onto his hand like life depended on it, you noticed Bonnie’s face slowly coming closer. If he was willing the risk to get hurt, you couldn’t deny him to make his own decision. And you could decide not to shy away from his proximity. And you didn’t. Not now.

His nose slightly brushed against yours, his breath hot on your face in this cold night. For all you had done before, nothing had made you feel that anxious before. Not, because you were scared of actually kissing him – you anticipated it – but what it would do to you. It would be impossible to turn around after it. Bonnie would conquer your heart and you wouldn’t be able to keep away from his kind soul that made you feel welcomed anymore.

„You can still get away from the curse Shelby’s bring on the people around them,“ you tried one last time.

„Just, shut up, Y/N.“ It was the first time he eagerly wanted you quiet. Because this time, he pressed his lips on yours. Not lightly, not delicate – his body moved closer to yours and his lips moved against yours like it wasn’t the first time they touched them.

It all felt strangely familiar and so fucking warm. Your free hand, because the other one was still locked with Bonnie’s, moved into his hair. He smiled, when your fingertips were caressing his neck. „Tell me, you enjoying this?“

You were hardly able to answer because Bonnie’s mouth didn’t really let go of yours. Somehow you managed a simple ‚yes‘ through it all. And it was you who had to smile next. You had never felt something so intense before. You didn’t really know how love  would be but you didn’t expect it to be that way. And it to happen so fast. Falling in love with Bonnie had been easy.

Spending this night under the stars was easy. In his arms. With his lips on yours. Your fingers intertwined. It felt like you were at a place where time didn’t exist. You wished you could stay there for as long as possible. With him.

[second-chance-stray]

RP Log: Rising is sick, and Cravs won’t have it.

Cravendy Hound is busy moving all sorts of wooden furniture from her room to a series of boxes that litter the company foyer. It’s hard work, and something that demands her full attention until the task is done. She wipes her forehead free of sweat with the back of her hand. Finally, it was quiet again...and in that silence, perhaps there were subtle things that Cravs would now notice?

Rising Lotus at some point during Cravs moving everything back and forth, Rising had slipped through,  groaning a bit as she was still looking quite ill. She climbed the stairs to get herself some water, groggy curses coming from her mouth as most of the grub was moved up there some time ago. As she made her way to the bottom of the stairs, she leaned against the banister, watching Cravs move the stuff for quite a while, she didn't want to hold her up as she shambled back to her room.

Cravendy Hound: “Eh? Well, if it ain’t the flyin’ flower ‘erself.” Cravs claps her hands together in order to get the last bit of dust off of them, and then quickly jogs over before Rising is able to make it back to her room. Closer now, she’s able to see how much of a mess the other woman is. Clearly sick, and clearly suffering. Cravs stops in her tracks. “Oi bugger, ye look like shite...don’t tell me yer still sick?”

Rising Lotus cocked her head a bit as she was addressed. "Flyin'...oh, I get it." she let out a weak chuckle that turned into cough. "Yeah I guess so... don't usually get hit this...." her hand twirled as she tried to think of the word "Hard..? Ugh." sniffling, she ran her hand over her hair to try and unmess it up. "I'm at least able to walk about a bit now, was sleepin' all day first day."

(Cravendy Hound) I don't know what's worse. When it rains after snow and everything's gross slush, or after when the water freezes, forming ice/snow. And then everyone starts slipping, people + cars both D:< )) (Rising Lotus) The worst part is people that live in it for years that forget how to drive in it the second it starts up again. Also you really got me with Flying Flower x3))

Cravendy Hound crosses her arms with a frown, feeling somewhat responsible. If she had brought an umbrella, or hadn’t insisted on going fishing that day, then none of this would’ve happened. In fact, wasn’t Rising there when they were fighting the Dodo at Dirtpatch?! A judgement forms in Crav’s head...that Rising is just going to get worse if left to her own devices. Cravs shakes her head in concern. “What are ye dealin’ with? Fever, chills, a cough...?”

Rising Lotus nodded slowly after each symptom Cravs listed off "Aye..sneezin' an' uh... head feelin'..." bringing her hand close, she'd pull them apart with her fingers extending "Jus', ya know...pressure-y. Got some things to help with it, jus' still takin' awhile to get uh... " she brought her hand up to rub her temple "all better I guess. Ugh.."

(Cravendy Hound) hope it wasn't too confusing xD ))   (Rising Lotus) It was something where I read it and got it, then it got funnier and cuter the more I started thinking it over lol)) (Cravendy Hound) well here comes more blisteringly sweet stuff xD ))

Cravendy Hound: “Stop figetin’ for a sec, will ye?” Without thinking, Cravs lifts the hair that usually covers her face, and gets close to touch foreheads with Rising. She stays like this for a second, then pulls back looking angier than before. “Bloody scrag, ‘ow are ye even standin’ right now? Yer burning up. Come on, let’s get ye into a bed afore ye set the stairs on fire with that fever of yers.”

Cravendy Hound grabs Rising’s wrist and, while attempting to drag the other woman along, makes a beeline towards the clinic. It’s during this time that her actions begin to catch up in her mind. Damnit, old habits die hard. As soon as she could, she’d have to explain...that.

(Cravendy Hound) it's something my mom used to do w/ me :D )) (Cravendy Hound) ALSO Cravs def sees Rising like a lil sis (which she pretty much sees everyone as) but I'll throw wood onto the proverbial fire for potential goofy hijinks ))

Rising Lotus 's eyes went wide as Cravs was so suddenly touching foreheads with her, frozen as she wasn't quite sure how to react to, whatever was happening. "W-what are..." despite her paleness, there was the smallest tinge of red in her cheeks as Cravs pulled away. "O-oh...That's...huh." still processing, she was easily dragged along to wherever Cravs was taking her. As she watched her door pass by she started to weakly protest. "You don't have to toss me in there...don't want to be..." she lifted her arm to cough into her sleeve " a bother to people actually needin' the, the help."

(Cravendy Hound) ahhaha )) (Cravendy Hound) o we can move to the actual clinic. It looks super cool :> )) (Rising Lotus) Also that was super cute xD and it'll be good for Rising to have someone like that! Hasn't been close in anyone for while since her wife left))

Cravendy Hound chuckles at Rising’s weak protests. “This place is exactly for people like ye!” Cravs tugs her to the corner, and then sets her down on the bed. “Now, lie down ‘ere, and don’t move.” She commands, and then heads off to search the medical cabinets for anything that might help alleviate her friend’s symptoms. After some rummaging, she first comes back with a small hand towel, soaking in a bowl of cool water.

Cravendy Hound - As she lifts her sleeves and gets the towel ready, she rambles on absentmindedly. “I used to do this all the time for my little sis. She was always catchin’ colds and doin’ otherwise dumb shite...stupidly brave, she was.” Cravs pauses for a second, and then grimaces. “S-so that’s what the ‘ead bump was about! Er. Sorry. Probably crossed a line there.”

Rising Lotus plopped down onto the bed, groaning a bit as Cravs ordered her to lay down. She did it of course, but if her friend would ask it would because she wanted to. "You don't have to do all this ya know..." she sounded a bit sheepish "I can...probably.." considering how many days she was out maybe this was the proper course of action. A weak scowl escaped her lips "Gods damn it, we ain't known each other long enough for ya to see me in such a pitiful state." she rested her hand on her forehead >

Rising Lotus: Before dragging it down her face. Crav's explaining the forehead bopping did cause her to smirk though. "O-okay... d-don't do that to a girl without some warnin'..my ma always jus' used her hand back in the day."

Cravendy Hound awkwardly laughs in response. “I wasn’t thinkin’, but yeah. Yer right, yer right....” Memories of similarly awkward misunderstandings bubble to the surface, one after the other like a chain reaction. Cravs becomes as stiff as a board as she recalls a particularly embarrassing moment, one that made it all the way to the bedroom before she realized what was going on.

Cravendy Hound ‘s face slowly becomes beet red as the conversation that followed, terrible and idiotic, plays word for word back to her in her head. As her captain had always told her...she was as perceptive as a log when it came to things of that nature. Cravs abruptly clears her throat.

Cravendy Hound: “We’re both fighters. Nothin’ to be ashamed of. For every battle, there’s recovery.” She then presents the folded towel, pleasantly chilled, to Rising’s face. A gesture that, this time, asks...may I?

Rising Lotus grumbles a bit "I 'spose...won't get any cool scars or tales to tell 'bout it though." she gave Cravs a nod as the towel was brought over, the cool cloth helping to soothe her burning forehead. " Least it's jus' a cold this time...the last time I was, this..." she paused for a moment. "At least this sick...It was cause of a nasty bite." she raised her left arm up. "You can still kinda see it..." she must of thought she was pointing to it, but there was a fait bit mark on her forearm.

Rising Lotus: "Was poisonous too, an' the gobbie potion I took probably made it worse.." she took a deep breath before she continued, coughing lightly "So I was holed up in...the hole I lived in up there. Though Violet came all the way to help me...that was nice..." as she trailed off her eyes drifted towards the wall, staying silent on the matter after that.

Cravendy Hound places the towel over Rising’s forehead, and then peers at the scars on her arm. Healed over, but even still she could get a sense of how bad it was when the wound was fresh. Cravs bobs her head in admiration. “Must’ve been some bite. Were ye fightin’ some manner of ‘boro? Stinky buggers are all jaws, all legs. Bad business.”

Cravendy Hound doesn’t push about Violet. Though Cravs had a track record of bluntly nosing her way into other people’s business, it was only when she thought she could help. Here, she sensed Rising wasn’t ready to talk, and it certainly wasn’t her place to ask.

Rising Lotus "I can't say what it was. I mean, I KNOW what it is...I jus' can't.." she furrowed her brow as she apparently was having trouble with the word for not saying a word. "Ya know.. talk it. Great big bug..the bug folk in Dravania use 'em." she huffed, sounding a bit frustrated. "Gods, even thinkin' is takin' too much energy." a drawn out sigh left her lips, following by some more coughing. "Hey..." she looked up to Cravs "Thanks for..uh.. I guess this...not exactly draggin' me here but..."

Rising Lotus: flipped her hand up, hoping by now the Cravs would understand what she meant. " I 'spose this is probably a better place than my mess of a room.. an' the towel is far nicer than gettin' Hop to sit on my head."

Cravendy Hound: “Stop thinkin’ so much then, and get some rest. I’ll ask the medic to leave some medicine by the table for ye when ye wake up.” Cravs tilts her head, amused. She assumes ‘Hop’ is the sproutling that she’s seen trail Rising in the past, and looks around for it.

Cravendy Hound - Failing to find Hop, she gets ready to leave in order to give Rising some peace and quiet. Before she lets the curtain fall behind her, she turns around for one last thing. “If ye need anythin’, ye can...borrow this.” Cravs places a linkshell by the bedside table. “Don’t let me catch ye trippin’ down the stairs again.”

Rising Lotus nodded "Aye, I promis ya the next time ya see me, I'll be.." she shot Cravs a finger pistol, but couldn't quite get anything catchy out. She eventually gave up and shuffled in bed a bit, getting herself comfy. "I think I'll try restin' a bit till then though." her eyes started to drift closed, how could she feel so exhausted from just a trip up the stairs?

[ellewritesathing]

So Close - S.S. XXVII

Summary: The universe has a funny way of putting the things you want right in front of you, but just out of reach. Stiles and Y/N have been best friends ever since Scott brought him home, but when Stiles realizes that he might want to be something other than best friends, she leaves to go to some fancy private school up North. Now that she’s back though … maybe he’s got a shot? A Teen Wolf AU in which the reader has always been so close to Stiles and yet so far.

Masterlist Prev. | Part 27

Word-count: 3.7k+

A/N: so close kind of fell to the back burner for me for a little while, but you guys have been so amazing with all your likes and feedback on it that it makes me 💕💕 i’m hoping to write the end of this season in the next few days so they should be up soon!! thanks for sticking around and sharing this with me 💖

You weren’t sure what made you feel worse; the fact that Noah was shot or the fact that you weren’t there to help when it happened. You were trying to finish a chemistry lab that was due the next day. It was starting to feel like, no matter how present you were in one aspect of your life, another started to crumble when you weren’t looking. 

And then you felt guilty because of how pretentious that sounded. Your name wasn’t on the deadpool. Your dad wasn’t the one in the hospital with a bullet stuck in his shoulder. Other than some scrapes and bruises, you were the most okay out of everyone in your friend group, so why did it feel like you were handling it the worst? 

You didn’t have time to figure it out as you pulled into the parking lot of Beacon Hills Memorial and gathered up your stuff. It took you a minute to get the nurses - friends of your mom who wanted to know how the new relationship was going because ‘your first boyfriend can be a real challenge sometimes, dear’ - to leave you alone so you could track down Noah’s room. 

When you got there, Noah was lying back in his hospital bed, his forearm barely resting on the book and stack of papers on his tray, and Stiles was collapsed into the armchair, looking tired and defeated, leaning his head in his hand as he watched his dad. 

“There’s my two favorite guys. Don’t tell Scott I said that.” You’d drawn out the first part with a half-hearted smile and rushed to add the second. You closed the door gently behind you and made your way over to where Stiles was. 

He smiled when he saw you but it was an empty sort of smile that left you feeling a little hollow as he straightened up to make space for you on the chair. He wrapped an arm around your waist as you settled in.

“The morphine’s pretty much knocked him out,” Stiles said, looking back at his dad. “I don’t think he’s telling anyone anything for a while.” 

“At least he’s getting some rest,” you said quietly, ducking your head slightly so you tucked underneath Stiles’ chin as you moved your legs over his. “I’m not sure if he ever really sleeps.”

“Do you?” 

You looked at your hands and how they fit with Stiles’ as you thought about his question. There were only some nights when you managed to sleep like you used to, but most of them were now filled with anxiety and a night-light. “No. Not really. Not without you.”

Stiles had a small, lopsided smile when you looked back at him, still playing with your interlaced fingers. “Yeah, yeah, I-” he tilted his head for a second, rethinking his words. “I don’t sleep without you either.”

---

You found Lydia waiting for you on the porch when you and Stiles finally got back to his house after what felt like an eternity at the hospital. Technically, she was waiting for Stiles but she liked that you were there to help connect the dots. 

Stiles was visibly trying to connect them with red tape on his big conspiracy boards, sticking up a photo of Lorraine and Maddy on top of a photocopy of Lorraine’s code, but nothing was coming together in a helpful way.  

“Lyd, I know you feel guilty about what happened with Meredith, but this wasn’t your fault,” you said as gently as you could when she finished talking. “Your grandmother was just trying to find someone like her; she didn’t mean for what happened to happen to Meredith.” 

“That doesn’t change the fact that it happened,” Lydia sniped. She sighed and rubbed her temples, stopping her pacing in front of the board again. In a strained, level voice, she continued, “My grandmother drove her to insanity and I drove her to suicide. The only difference between me and her is that she left me a piece of code, and I don’t know how to crack it.” 

“Hey, it’s okay. We’ll figure this out just like we always do.” Stiles attempted to comfort her by squeezing her shoulder lightly, but she didn’t visibly respond to that. “Why don’t the three of us take a day off tomorrow and figure this out?”

“You mean skip school?” Lydia asked. He nodded. 

“Like, for the entire day?” you asked. He nodded again.

“Yes, that’s what skipping means, people!” Stiles sounded exasperated as he waved around his arms, but then he stopped when he saw you biting your lip. He softened his approach. “Why? What do you have tomorrow?” 

“Detention if I miss another day,” you said, running a hand through your hair. “And probably a failing grade in geometry.” 

“I can tutor you,” Lydia offered, big banshee eyes pleading with you to stay. 

It broke your heart to see her looking so small and hopeful like that. You were about to give in when Stiles started speaking again. 

“No, I’ll drop you off in the morning,” he said, putting a hand on the back of his neck. “I should probably go to at least one of my classes anyway.” 

“Okay. Then I’ll meet you back here at around 09:30?” Lydia asked. 

Stiles nodded and she started gathering up her stuff while you stared at the board. Something was missing but you couldn’t figure out what it was. You just needed one more dot and everything would- 

“Hey.” Stiles interrupted your thoughts and you looked up at him. “Should I move these out of here or are you okay to get some sleep?” 

“Yeah, I’ll be okay.” You stretched out on the bed and yawned. “I’ve got you, don’t I?” 

“No matter what.”

---

“Stiles, I’m serious. Come pick me up and I’ll go to Eichen House with you guys,” you said for the millionth time into the phone. You were in the process of shoving books into your bag in an attempt to clean out your locker while Scott was at practice. “I literally couldn’t care less about some dumb bonfire.” 

“I know, but this is kind of time-sensitive and I thought you were having a day of normal teenager things anyway,” he said. His voice sounded far away so he’d probably started driving again and put you on speakerphone. 

“Yeah, but-” 

“Going to a dumb bonfire is way more normal teenager than going to a mental institution,” Lydia chimed in. How long had she been listening? “I promise I’ll bring him back in one piece, sweetheart.” 

Sighing, you weighed your options. Argue with the two people who knew how to argue circles around you or give up and seem supportive; both sounded horrid. 

“Fine,” you said eventually. “But promise to text me when you get there and let me know when you’re on your way to the bonfire?” 

“Won’t even use abbreviations,” Stiles said. You could hear the sarcastic smile in his voice. For someone who recently almost got killed, he seemed to think your anxiety was a lot funnier than you expected him to. “Don’t worry, babe, Lydia and I can handle this.” 

“I know,” you sighed. You slammed your locker shut and leaned against it. “I love you dummies so you better be careful.” 

“I always am.” Lydia’s sing-song voice drifted to your ears right before the call disconnect chime did. 

You tried not to dwell on the nervousness in your stomach as you went to find Scott. Seriously, what kind of practice lasted until this late in the day? Stomping through the halls, you heard Coach yelling and figured that was a safe bet to find him. 

Instead, you found Coach holding about a dozen printed pages in his hand as he tried to figure out how to shut off the printer, even more pages scattered all over the floor. They looked eerily familiar. You bent down to pick one up and realized why; it was an updated deadpool missing Derek, crossing out the names of the already dead, and upping Liam’s price. 

Liam and Scott pulled you aside just as you finished reading it. 

“What the hell is this?” you asked, echoing Coach and shoving the paper in Scott’s chest like it was his fault the list updated. An action, by the way, that you instantly regretted. 

“Derek’s not on the list anymore,” Scott mumbled to himself instead of answering your question.  

“And I’m not worth three million,” Liam said. “It’s eighteen now.” 

---

Despite the new and terrifying deadpool, Scott still insisted you guys still go to the bonfire. He was the team captain, he said, and this way he could still keep an eye on Malia (if she showed up. None of you had heard from her since that day in the vault) and Liam and any other wolves that showed up. His reasoning didn’t change the bad feeling in your gut and the anxiety you felt when the two of you started walking around. 

It didn’t take long to find Malia jumping around to electro-dance music, flask in hand and looking like she didn’t have a care in the world. God, you wished you could compartmentalize like that.

“Let me talk to her?” you asked, catching Scott’s arm. He was about to say no when you gave him a look. “Please?” 

“Fine,” he said reluctantly. “I’ll try looking for Liam. Meet me at the bleachers in five?” 

“You know it,” you said, squeezing Scott’s arm before heading over to Malia. “Hey, I didn’t know you were coming.” 

“That’s ‘cause I didn’t want to tell you.” Malia kept dancing but she must have sensed your unease because she stopped long enough to look at you. “This is the best place to get drunk on short notice.” 

That made you laugh and she pulled you in a bit closer to sway with her. It reminded you of the trip to Mexico all those months ago - funny how things (and feelings) change with time. “You know that you guys can’t get drunk, right? Werewolves, I mean. It’s something to do with the healing, apparently.”

“Someone should try telling him that,” she said, nodding her head behind her just as she lifted her arm to give you a twirl. You spotted Liam on a bench with Mason holding a bottle covered by a paper bag. He took a huge swig as Scott made his way over to him. 

“I think someone’s about to,” you mumbled, still uneasy. Malia kept dancing, not really paying any attention to you until you squeezed her hand. “You know I wanted to tell you, right? Stiles’s got it in his head that he’s the resident Malia expert but- well, I’m the Hale expert. I knew this thing was gonna blow up.” 

“You know about my family?” Malia asked, thudding back to the ground and stopping to look at you. It was the first time she was still since you and Scott came over to talk to her. 

“Yeah, I-” you stopped when you saw Liam toss a plastic bottle to the side and storm off. “I’ve gotta go, but I’ll send you Cora’s number. You two should talk.”

Her complaints were drowned out by the music almost as soon as you started walking away from her. You had to jog slightly to catch up to Liam, hoping that Scott would go find Malia again. 

“Hey,” you said, grabbing his arm to force him to stop. “Hey, biscuit, look at me.” 

“What?” He didn’t mean to snap as he turned around, but he also probably didn’t mean to stumble when he turned to look at you. 

“I came to tell you that werewolves can’t get drunk, but I think you might be the exception.” You frowned and tightened your grip on his arm once he started swaying slightly on the spot. “Buddy, you okay?”

“Get Scott.” He seemed to have to force out the words. 

“Okay, come on,” you said as you looped around Liam’s waist and he held onto your shoulders. “Let’s get you to Mason and then I’ll go find Scott, okay?” 

By the time you got Liam to the bench where Mason was, Scott was already there with Malia and trying to get her to drink some water. “Oh no, Liam too?” he asked, sounding a little over his head. 

Lucky for him, you went to a prep school before this. You knew what to do. You could hear Scott and Mason talking while you tried to get through to Liam. He might have to throw up before you could do anything. You were still holding his head and making sure Malia was drinking her water when Scott started stumbling. 

“How much have you had to drink?” Mason asked him. 

“He hasn’t had anything,” you said, taking Scott’s hand and trying to guide him to the bench. In a slightly lower voice, you asked, “It’s the deadpool, isn’t it?” 

He nodded and tried to say something. He was feeling the effects a lot quicker than Liam and Malia had. “It’s the DJ. I’ve gotta- gotta stop him.” 

“No, you need to get out of here,” you said, hand on his shoulder to keep him upright. “Mason will take you to the car and I’ll deal with the slice of wonderbread on stage, alright?” 

He was still arguing when you walked away, telling Mason to keep an eye on them and try to get them to the car if he could. He asked where you were going and you made up something that sounded a little less ridiculous than ‘to stop the soundwaves that are killing my brother.’

You managed to get pretty close to the stage before the DJ made some hand signal and a guard tried to grab at you. You twisted out of the grip, pulling him forward, and bent his wrist back. Kicking him to the side, you kept going but his failed attack just caused more of the security to come after you. 

One of them managed to get a hold of you and carried you off to the side, where Mason cut them off and started yelling at them to let go of his friend. It was kind of touching watching him yell at them like that; you didn’t know you were that close. It also provided an excellent distraction for you to kick the guard’s shin and elbow his solar plexus as you landed on the ground. You whacked him with the nightstick and looked at Mason. 

“What are you?” he asked, more surprised than upset. 

“Come on,” you smiled and grabbed his hand. “You ever destroy a power generator before?” 

“No, have you?” 

You didn’t answer as you led him back to the side of the stage that housed all the controls. You handed him the nightstick and told him to go wild before engaging Derek’s knife and climbing onto the stage. The DJ seemed less impressed with you than Mason had been.

“What the hell do you think-” 

He didn’t get to finish because you kicked him in the legs, hard. Cutting the wire of his headphones, you leaned over to the mic on the mix-board. “Hey, guys? Someone called in about real cops heading this way,” you said. “The school security isn’t allowed to make arrests for underage drinking so-” 

Then it was your turn not to finish your sentence. Kids started scattering and Mason finished abusing the electrical equipment, leaving an emptiness of the bonfire and teenage screaming in the space where the music had been before. The DJ started squirming away and you put your foot on his back and pressed down. 

Knocking the wind out of him, you said. “You’re going to stay right here until my friends come back.” He spat some very dirty words at you and you rolled your eyes. You’d been called worse. “Hey, Mason, can you watch him for me?” 

Mason nodded and scrambled on stage to tie the guy’s hands behind him. “Go find Liam.” 

--- 

Growing up, you always heard people on TV talk about how much they hate hospitals, but to you it was just the place where your mom worked. Never anything special, just the place you went when your idiot brother broke a bone or your mom had a late shift and no one to watch you. Now it was where you went whenever someone tried to kill your friends. 

You hated hospitals. 

You got to Stiles’ room just as he finished an argument with your mom. Telltale signs of sulking and parental annoyance were in the air. 

“Like cassettes?” Mel asked him. 

“Yes, tapes,” Stiles said, sounding like they’d been going back and forth for a little while already. He caught your eye over your mom’s shoulder and smiled for a second. 

“Yeah, I’ll see what I can do,” she said, backing up to start walking away before bumping into you. “Oh, hey, sweetie, how was the bonfire?” 

“Killer,” you smiled as she kissed your cheek.

Melissa frowned, clearly not liking your answer but not having the time to deal with it just yet. “We’ll talk later.” 

“Okay, but tapes, though, please,” Stiles called after her as she started to leave and you stepped into the room. 

“Cassettes,” Mel said in her customer service voice before closing the door.

You started walking over to the bed and Stiles’ expression turned serious again. “Hey, I was still going to call but my phone’s in evidence and-” he stopped talking when you wrapped your arms around him and rested your chin on his shoulder, pressing your face to his cheek lightly. “And I didn’t want you to freak out.” 

“I’m just glad you’re okay,” you said softly, adjusting slightly to kiss his cheek as he wrapped a hesitant arm around you. “You are okay, right?” 

“Aside from the concussion your mom says I have,” he said with a sigh. His free hand moved up to hold onto your arm that crossed his chest to meet your hand behind his head. Everything connected. “Yeah, I’m okay. I’m too tired to be anything else.” 

You didn’t know how to answer so you went back to holding onto him, tracing patterns on his upper back with your thumbs. The two of you were so close in the silence that you could hear his heartbeat. It was coming down, slowly, the longer you held him. 

“Uh, Stiles?” you asked a little awkwardly after a few minutes as you shifted away from him slightly. “Do you have something in your pocket?” 

“Huh?” he asked, sounding like you’d snapped him out of some daydream as he looked down. “Oh, yeah, one of Brunsky’s tapes. Did they say anything to you other than that I got almost killed?” 

“I stopped listening after that,” you said as you pulled your legs up to cross them on the bed. Your shins rested on his thighs once he fug the tape out of his pockets. “What happened?” 

“Meredith is the Benefactor. She was using Brunsky as a proxy because he’s an angel of death,” Stiles said as he handed you the cassette. “The serial killer kind, not the biblical kind.” 

“I figured,” you said, pushing your hair out of your face so you could look at the tape properly. It was just a regular cassette with Lydia’s grandmother’s name in sharpie on the top. No different to the way Stiles scrawled the title to the breakup mix on the CD or the play me deadpool tape. “He always creeped me out in the stories you told me about Eichen House.” 

“Eichen House creeped me out in my stories about Eichen House,” Stiles said with a sigh. He watched you turning over the tape in your hands, looking for something that told about what was on it. “But I wouldn’t worry. He’s dead now.” 

You stopped flipping over the tape and looked up at him. He was haunted. Those tired eyes of his had seen too many people die in front of them. “But you’re still alive.” 

“I always live,” Stiles said. He was looking at his hands. Did he see something in them or did he just not want to look at you? “Even when …” 

You reached over to touch his hands when he didn’t say anything else. “Even when?” 

“Even when I shouldn’t,” he said. Stiles’ voice was blunt as he looked up to meet your gaze. “I lived when other people should’ve instead.” 

“You lived because you’re supposed to live,” you said, trying desperately to find some words in your brain to comfort him. Any words. “Because Batman doesn’t die, okay? Not until the story’s over.”

“I’ve been told I’m more of a Robin,” he mumbled, looking away from you again. “Besides I don’t think this story is ever ending. Not until we’re all dead.” 

“Well, until it does, we’re in this together. You and me,” you said, leaning closer to put your other hand on the back of his neck. He looked up at you again, less blunt and more broken. “No matter what.” 

“No matter what,” Stiles repeated, words sounding both slightly more and less sure than before. He swallowed and took a breath. “You know I love you, right? I know you’re not supposed to say that until you go on an actual date but it’s true and I almost died without saying it so. I love you.” 

The question was such a one-eighty from you were talking about before that you had to make a conscious effort not to look surprised at the words that tumbled out of his mouth. “I love you, too, Stiles,” you said with a smile. “And you’re not going anywhere until we go on that date.” 

He laughed lifted his hand to the side of your cheek, pulling you into a kiss. “Thanks,” he said. “I was kind of going crazy there for a second before you got there.” 

“My mom can do that to a person,” you said, nodding slowly as Stiles moved a little closer to you. “She’s sure you’re okay?” 

“They wanna do another CT scan but she’s pretty sure. Just gotta stay awake until the concussion fades. Shouldn’t be too hard, I’ve got like a decade’s worth of practice thanks to the insomnia,” Stiles said. 

“I’ll stay with you until you get released,” you said gently, trying to bring him out of those memories you could see playing behind his eyes. 

“Thanks,” he said quietly. 

You know he meant for a lot more than just staying with him. You squeezed his hand. “Vending machine food and Netflix on my phone?” 

“Like there’s anything else I’d rather do.”

Part 28

[raendown]

Pairing: MadaraTobirama Word count: 5483 Chapter: 41/42 Summary: Not all wars are fought on the battlefield. Some are fought at the conference table, with whispers in the shadows, or even in the bedroom.

In a world where the Senju and Uchiha traditional lands were too far apart to have ever made them enemies, Butsuma and Tajima are the ones who come together and sign a treaty of peace. Madara isn’t happy to have his life signed away for him in a political marriage to strengthen the bond between their clans. He is even less happy to have Tobirama make assumptions of him from their very first night together. What follows from there is a journey of healing, of learning, and finding the places to belong in the places least expected.

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

KO-FI and commission info in the header!

Chapter 41

The first time he sat at the desk he thought to himself that it was much too grand. Hashirama had made it, of course, just as Hashirama had used his mokuton to create another top floor of the administration tower, one very large room to sit atop all the rest, the official command center of everything visible from the massive windows lining one entire wall. And to fit such a large room there needed to be a large desk. Tobirama swiveled in his new chair and peeked over one shoulder. Of all the things he hated about this office, the fact that his back now faced the windows probably bothered him the most. Just another thing to get used to. 

Kagami’s face popping out from underneath the desk brought his attention back along with a smile. If anyone was having fun in his new real estate it was the little scamp he called a student. 

“No one could ever find me down here!” the boy declared. “It’s like a whole fort! Or a cave!” 

“Yes, it is a bit big, isn’t it?” 

“It’s awesome!” 

Lifting his face to gaze around the room, Tobirama hummed. “Not the word I would have chosen but I appreciate your enthusiasm all the same.” 

Everything in the room was brand new, an honor he had only been blessed with once in his life when he was shown to his matrimonial home for the first time. Even the chairs across the desk for visitors were new and the couch on the other side of the room which he assumed was Hashirama's unsubtle way of saying they all knew he was going to overwork himself at some point. He might as well have a place to crash when he did. It was flattering to be gifted so many things no matter the intentions behind them and yet as he took it all in again Tobirama couldn’t help but miss the familiarity of his old office, the desk that always felt too small and yet had everything he needed available within arm’s reach, the chair that squeaked if he turned too fast but sat at just the right elevation to keep his knees from aching. 

Whoever chose this new chair had obviously gone for size over comfort; it was probably big enough to swallow even Hashirama's massive frame. 

“Kaasan says you’re really important now,” his protégé announced, popping up from under the desk again. “More important than anyone else in the village – except for me. She says I’ll always be the most important.” Kagami puffed out his chest and Tobirama couldn’t help but smile a little wider for him. 

“She is right about that.” 

“What’s a Hokage? She says you’re the very first Hokage but I’ve never heard that word before and the old lady next door came over before I could ask.” 

Fingers drumming against the dark wood before him, Tobirama considered how to explain the concept. “It means that the people of Konoha have chosen me as their leader. Almost the same way that the Daimyo is the ultimate authority of Hi no Kuni except I’m only in charge of one village, thank the spirits.”

Just the thought of having to deal with any more idiocy than he was already going to now made him shudder. 

“Oooh. So you’re really super important!” 

“Against my own will, I assure you,” Tobirama drawled. 

“You have to be extra careful then, right? Are you going to have guards now like the Daimyo does? My Obasan says the Daimyo never goes anywhere without at least three of his guards to protect him in case someone tries to come and hurt him. Maybe you should do that!” Kagami’s fingers curled over the arm of his chair, his eyes so wide and earnest one might never guess his training had progressed so well he could almost be considered as deadly as a fully grown adult. 

With a shake of his head, Tobirama huffed. “I don’t think I would enjoy that very much.”

“Now, now,” Madara's voice pitched in as the door clicked open. “The kid’s got a good idea building there. We’ve already lost two leaders and I’m sure I’m not alone in hoping that you survive longer than a single year in office. Maybe we should talk to Izuna about working something out with his ANBU.” 

“Is that truly necessary?” Pleasant as it was to see his husband, he wasn’t thrilled to have the man add his two cents to this ridiculousness. 

Madara hefted the box between his hands a little higher but not too high to cover the disgustingly contemplative look on his face. What a terrible look. Tobirama already knew he wasn’t going to enjoy whatever plans came out of that expression. Getting tricked in to this job was bad enough, did they really need to add more restrictions and annoyances on top of it all? 

“Sensei! Hey sensei!” Kagami tugged on his sleeve to get his attention again. “Can I be one of your guards?”

“You?” 

“Uh-huh! I want to protect sensei!” 

“I see.” Fighting the urge to melt, hoping his face betrayed nothing of his gooey inner feelings, Tobirama gave his student a pat on the arm. “When you’re a little older we can talk about it. You’re still a bit young for ANBU or guard squads just yet but I’m sure you’ll make a fine guard when you get there.” He couldn’t deny that the thought of his own protégé growing up to stand as his protector was adorably heart-warming. 

Madara grunted as he set his box down in one corner of the room, lifting the lid to check on the contents inside. From a distance it looked as though it were full of scrolls and that meant more paperwork. Wonderful. Tobirama was starting to wonder if he might drown under it all before anyone thought to remember the archives built in to the basement floors right underneath their feet. He took at least a small amount of consolation from watching Madara's arms flex, somehow bullied in to doing most of the heavy lifting as they tried to get everything set up in this new office. 

“How are you settling in?” his husband asked, closing the box and straightening up. 

“Already planning my escape routes, if you must know,” Tobirama admitted. To his credit he was only half serious. Right from the moment he stepped in to the room he’d been planning escape routes but no matter how much he griped he knew that he would see this duty through. 

The people had spoken. Just because he thought they had all taken collective leave of their senses by choosing him didn’t mean he was going to spit in their faces for making such a poor decision. 

“Oh, I don’t know, you seemed to be enjoying yourself just fine when I saw you earlier. Bossing the whole council of elders around like that? I wish I’d realized that was a perk of the job, I might have fought you for it!” Madara chuckled to himself while Tobirama grumbled darkly under his breath. If they’d had to fight for the position it would have been a short battle; he would have forfeited immediately. 

“Did any of them speak to you about it?” He asked, curious to know if they were already pushing back against his authority. Thankfully Madara shook his head. 

“I don’t think they were upset, mostly just shocked.” He shrugged. “They’re all clan heads and elders and heirs. Most of them have all but forgotten what it means to answer to an actual higher authority.” 

Kagami tilted his head. “Kaasan says I still have to listen to you, does that mean you’re a higher authority too Madara-sama?”

“Higher than you, brat!” 

“Behave, children,” Tobirama drawled. 

“Are you calling me a child!?” 

“You’re acting like one.” 

The little giggle at his side only made it all the funnier to watch Madara harrumph, moodily crossing his arms in a pretense of ignoring them both. 

It wasn’t all that much longer before Kagami grew bored, however, and Tobirama was more than happy to reach out with his senses and point the boy to wherever his mother had wandered off to. After cheerful waves, drawn out goodbyes, and a half dozen promises that he would be back in a little while the boy tottered off to leave his teacher and clan head alone on the top floor. Without him the room felt as though it had just a little less energy, like he’d taken it with him when he left. The feeling made Tobirama sigh. He wasn’t supposed to be middle aged for at least another decade. 

His cousin had always teased him that he’d been born an old man. 

“Are you disappearing in to your head already?” Madara broke in to his thoughts. 

“Perhaps a little.”

“What are you thinking so hard about?” 

Struggling to find the words, Tobirama drummed his fingers against the wood again. “Just…realizing that perhaps this job will have a few benefits that I might not have considered until now. Kagami may have escaped the necessity of attending the new academy but he’s hardly the only young impressionable mind out there. I was thinking that it might be nice having the chance to guide the next generation.” 

“You’re gonna be a bit busy for taking on any more students, I think.”

“I meant leading by example but thank you for the reminder that my free time has been effectively dismissed for the foreseeable future.” He glared but Madara only chuckled and trundled across the floor towards him. 

Tobirama wondered briefly if he was aware that he walked exactly like his own sensei, a habit most likely built entirely without conscious decision. Then he found himself distracted as the man slipped in to his lap and that was much more interesting to think about than walking patterns or anything else really. 

“Out of all of us I think you’re the best choice to guide the people,” Madara told him. 

“Because I’m the smartest?” 

“Hey! I’m smart! I don’t just mean because of your overly big brain. I mean because you have all the qualities that we need. Only instead of having those qualities spread out they’re all together in one person.” 

Confused, Tobirama frowned in to the middle distance. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You know how Hashirama makes a good leader because he really listens to people? And I’m a good leader because I think ahead and try to consider how things will affect more than just myself. Touka’s a good leader because she knows who to delegate to and trusts her captains. But the people of Konoha chose your butt for that seat because they know that you have all of those things – and more. Not only that but anyone who’s worked with you before knows that you’re not going to waste time trying to prove anything; you’ve already proven what you can do.” 

For almost a minute breathing deeply was all Tobirama could do, unsure how to function under the weight of so much blind trust. Except it wasn’t blind, he supposed, if so many people seemed to think that he had already shown these qualities. 

“I’m not even twenty yet,” he pointed out very quietly. “Not even twenty and I stand authoritatively above the people who have decades more experience than I do.”

“They’ve also had decades of getting set in their ways,” Madara pointed out. He was right, of course. The council of elders were rather infamous for being a bunch of stubborn bastards. 

“Did they vote? They would have been allowed to unless they put their name on the ballot but I can’t even begin to guess who they might have thrown their support behind.” Tobirama knew as well as anyone else how many different opinions there could be in just one room when the whole council gathered. Having less than no control over the outcome, he hadn’t even bothered to check and see how many names were on the final list to be voted on or how the numbers had tallied. 

“You’re not going to like this. But I think most of them voted you in. Which means that most of them will have no trouble at all following wherever you lead them.”

He wrinkled his nose. Madara was right, he didn’t like that. If there had been dissent in the ranks he might have held on to the faintest hope of impeachment but alas. Apparently he really was stuck here.

“If you could go back in time,” Tobirama murmured, “back to the night before our marriage or even the day we were betrothed, would you? If you had the chance would you tell yourself what was to come?” He could feel the other man’s eyes on him but didn’t bother to meet them, busy as he was asking himself the same question. It was something that had been on his mind lately but no matter how much he turned it over in his mind he never seemed to land on one answer. His husband, evidently, was much more decisive than him. 

“No,” Madara answered after a few heartbeats. 

Tobirama finally looked over at him again. “Just like that? No?” 

“I’m proud of the journey we went through together. If I have known that everything was going to turn out alright then maybe I wouldn’t have tried so hard to get to know who you really are. And then maybe I wouldn’t have fallen in love with you. What we went through was a long process but it was…necessary, I think.”

With a hum he pulled Madara in for a kiss. “Look at you being all wise. I think I’ll make you my chief advisor.”

Before his partner could scowl and grumble that he’d already accepted the role of chief advisor there came a knock at the door and both of them scrambled to separate themselves. His first day in office was not the time to be starting rumors of defiling the place or anything so scandalous. Only when it opened a moment later to admit Hashirama's smiling face did he remember that he could have just stretched his senses again and he would have known whether or not they needed to panic. 

“Hello!” His brother called out in greeting, wiggling the fingers of his free hand. With the other he carried something large made of clean red and white cotton. 

“Dare I ask what you have there?” Tobirama grumbled. 

“You’ll like this! I thought you should have a badge of status or something so I made you a special Hokage’s hat!” 

Something dark like horror filled him as Hashirama pressed the hat in to his hands to be inspected from all angles. It was massive and well-crafted with a veil of white hanging down to protect the back of his neck from sight. When he looked back up his brother was beaming at him with pride, innocent and entirely empty of any ill intentions. 

“Thanks,” Tobirama told him. “I hate it.” Hashirama wilted like a flower. 

“But I designed it myself!” 

“Ah, that must be why it’s so hideous.” 

“So mean!” 

Madara snatched the thing out of his hands and flipped it around. “I mean, at least he used the right kanji for fire. Carrying around a spelling mistake over your forehead wouldn’t be a great impression to make on any newcomers.” 

“I thought it was really nice,” Hashirama sniffed. 

“You wouldn’t know style if it ran up and bit your wife on the bottom.” Tobirama sighed, eyeing the new accessory in mourning. His words were unkind and yet he just knew he was going to be guilted in to wearing it at some point. For all his bluster he was soft like that for the ones he loved.

After sticking out his tongue Hashirama snatched the hat back for himself and began picking off invisible bits of lint. “You’ve really grown up since we came here, you know? Even if you say mean things I know what you really feel. So I wanted to get you something that would remind you whenever you need it how proud I am of everything you’ve become.” 

He peeked up with those big brown eyes and for a moment Tobirama could only damn his own heart for clenching inside his chest. Those words meant so much more to him than he would ever be able to admit. 

The two of them were all they had left, really. He was closer to Touka, even Hashirama knew that, but she would never mean quite the same thing to him as his immediate family did. She would never be the brothers that crawled in to bed with him when the nightmares woke them, the quiet voices that whispered their secrets when father wasn’t around. There was something irreplaceable in Hashirama as the last of his siblings that not even Touka could ever be. 

Of course, in a way, Hashirama had been the last of his family long before Butsuma passed away. Watching his brother mourn a man who treated them as little better than soldiers had been a strangely painful thing. Like watching him grieve for something that had never been, a dream that fades at waking yet leaves behind some deep impossible yearning. He couldn’t help but want to take the man in a gentle embrace and explain to him that it was all so much wasted emotion but he knew better than that, knew that Hashirama needed to expel these feelings to move on, and so he’d been doing his best to simply stay away from the subject.

“I appreciate the gift,” he murmured eventually, trusting that his brother would understand what he was really trying to say. Hashirama smiled and reached out to ruffle his hair. 

“You deserve the whole world, do you know that?”

“Do try to praise me whilst keeping your hands to yourself,” Tobirama grumbled. 

Madara snickered so he turned to glare at his husband too, though the man didn’t seem all that terrified by his ire. 

Surprisingly Hashirama didn’t stay all that long. Despite his usual habit of dragging every conversation out three times longer than it needed to be he ducked out fairly quickly once he was sure his gift wouldn’t be shredded as soon as he was out of sight. Either he had developed a new enthusiasm for paperwork overnight or he was having a bit too much fun deciding how to decorate his own new space. In an effort to prevent either man from sitting in the echoes of unwanted memories Madara and Hashirama had each moved in to the now empty offices of each others’ predecessors. Evidently his brother had been enjoying the chance to fill once blank walls with tacky décor.

“A quick visit, that,” Madara noted as well once they were alone again.

“Indeed. And I do believe I’d like to make my own visit quick. All I wanted was to come familiarize myself with the new office, I didn’t mean to make a full day of it. There will be plenty of days ahead for me to be trapped in here.” He sighed just thinking about it

When they left Tobirama was careful to leave that horrendous hat behind, tucking it off in a random corner and hoping that no one else would notice it before he had time to think of a better hiding spot. Having his ears frozen in a biting wind was preferable to wearing that monstrosity. He entertained himself instead with the smug look on his husband’s face as they made their way home. In almost the same way Hashirama's regard had done, Madara's overwhelming pride to walk at his side touched him in ways he refused to speak out loud, warming him from the inside out to see how his partner puffed up like a happy peacock even though the citizens passing them by weren’t paying their respects to him. 

He deflated only slightly about halfway home when his steps faltered with the expression of someone who just thought of something they were supposed to remember several hours ago. 

“Didn’t Kagami say he was coming back at some point?” he asked. Tobirama waved him off with a quiet smile. 

“We both know he’s already forgotten. I can feel him dashing around the marketplace with his friends; he’s not going to be thinking of his boring sensei for quite some time.”

“You’re not boring,” Madara said. “Kagami doesn’t think so either. He wants to grow up to be just like you.”

“Poor taste,” Tobirama noted. 

His husband thwacked him on the arm, never one to appreciate a bit of good self-deprecation, and then his expression turned hesitant. A bit thoughtful. “If he’s distracted it usually takes him a while to remember what he was supposed to be doing. So you’re saying I have you all to myself for now?”

“It seems that way, yes.”

“Don’t suppose I could convince you to, ah, take advantage of that?” 

Heat shot through his body, very different from the subtle warmth he’d been floating in before. This was a fire, a burn, a tightness in his belly that made him quicken his steps in such a way that turned Madara's ears pink with a mixture of shame and pleasure. He’d brought it on himself really. If he was going to offer such things Tobirama was not the sort of man who would turn him down. 

Conversation was a bit stilted from then on as they continued. Now that they had a reason to hurry it felt as though half the population wanted to stop and offer Tobirama their congratulations and as touched as he was to see so many people supporting him all he really wanted was for the lot of them to go away so he could bend his husband over the nearest piece of furniture. Madara kept his mouth shut for the most part, nodding along when anyone asked him if he wasn’t just the proudest he could possibly be, clammed up tight as though he hadn’t just been strutting about like a peacock five minutes before. 

If nothing else the amusement of watching his desperation mount higher and higher was almost worth feeling the same. 

Tobirama could feel that his gait had gotten a little stiff by the time they both pushed inside their home. When Madara pressed him back against the wall of the genkan he struggled to return the affections while also kicking off one of his boots, uncaring for the snow and slush that he must be splashing everywhere. Not even the feeling of cold water soaking in to his socks was enough to deter him from pulling the other man closer by the hips and grinding their bodies together. 

Fighting their way out of the various boots and coats and scarves protecting them from the weather outside took much longer than Tobirama would have liked, long enough that when they were free at last to stumble their way inside the rest of the house he simply didn’t have the patience to move any farther than the couch. Out of all the times he had jokingly threatened to bend this man over their various pieces of furniture he’d only ever been about half-serious a few times. Having had no experience before their relationship, Madara seemed to consider intimacy anywhere but their actual bed to be filthy in the same way he thought of spanking as incredibly kinky. 

He didn’t seem to have any complaints about filth or shame at the moment as he was pushed up against the back of their couch. Lewd sounds of appreciation spilled from his lips as his fingers pulled at whatever pieces of cloth they had the coordination to latch on to. 

“Should have brought the damn hat,” he mumbled in the non-existent space between them. 

“You cannot tell me you found it attractive?” Tobirama meant for his words to come out as a demand. Instead they were breathless, absent, whispers soaking in to pale skin as he moved down his husband’s neck. 

“Not really- nnh, feels good. S’just, dunno, it’s kind of hot that I’m…sleeping with the Hokage?” 

Tobirama pulled away far enough to stare in to his partner’s eyes, drinking in the way Madara shivered under his gaze. If the look on his face was even half as hungry as the heat in his belly then he couldn’t blame the man.

“Oh?” he purred. “Does my beloved husband have an authority kink?” 

“S-shut up.” Madara turned his head away but his protests had very little impact when followed with a deep moan, body melting under the sensation of teeth scraping along the lines of his neck. 

Nipping his way up just far enough to nibble on a defenseless earlobe, Tobirama allowed himself a vicious smirk. Finally a preference to work with. This alone was more than worth the trouble of being forced in to the limelight. With a sharp nip that drew a gasp he whispered in a voice that rasped with all the want inside him on naked display. 

“Don’t tell me what to do; you’re not in charge right now, anata.” When Madara shivered under him Tobirama felt bold enough to add, “Turn around.” 

“Need to reach over here anyway,” his husband mumbled as though to justify following the directions they both knew he wanted to anyway. As soon as he had spun to face the couch back he was stretching one arm out and leaning over to wriggle his fingers, trying desperately to reach the little tub of lotion he’d taken to leaving out for the evenings when dry fingers began to crack and bleed in to whatever book he was reading. 

“How resourceful of you,” Tobirama praised him. 

Although he was kind enough not to comment on the blush that followed his words he was slave enough to his own hormones to enjoy it, reveling in the knowledge that it was him and only him who could put such heat on that face. Married men they might be but that did nothing to stop many eyes in the village from admiring a shapely form and Tobirama knew exactly how many others wished they could be in his position right at this moment.

Which only made it all the more delicious listening to his own name fill the room in a desperate chant as he spread the man open and pressed inside, curling over Madara's body with some half-formed animal drive to keep him safe. His teeth bared in a grimace of pleasure, skin prickling where the chill of the room warred with the heat of their joining, Tobirama rocked his hips in an impatient rhythm. The world around them was lost to his consciousness as he took and took and gave back everything he had. Every gasp and cry that fell from his husband’s lips was a sweet chorus calling for more, a call he was all too happy to answer. 

Curled so tightly as he already was, it took little more than a tilt of his head to whisper against the shell of Madara's ear, hips snapping with every rock forward. 

“I love you,” he breathed. Madara whined, legs stiffening as he too drew close to the edge. “I want only you like this; I want no one else to ever see you in these moments. Come for me, anata.”

“Gods.” His husband gave up holding his own weight and folded to allow the couch to bear their movements. Tobirama tightened his fingers on the hips in his grasp and bit an ear already hot and fever red. 

“Do as I say, hm? Come for your Hokage.” 

Later he might ruminate over the possibility that Madara's arousal had been triggered by the idea that no one else had ever stood above him in authority like this before, a thrilling new dynamic he hadn’t encountered until he was outranked by his own husband. But that was later. In this moment Tobirama choked on his own breath as Madara clamped down around him and cried out in a filthy rasp that tumbled both of them in to ecstasy. 

In the brief seconds when the world turned white and fuzzy Tobirama knew only the clutch of the passage stealing his sanity and the husky mantra of his own name, the sensation of Madara's body quaking beneath his own. Fading back in to reality came with the realization that he was also mumbling over and over, sweet nothings and praises, every secret emotion inside his heart slipping between his lips as though the very world depended on him to fill the air with such nonsense. It took effort but he managed to clench his teeth and silence himself in the damp skin of his partner’s neck. 

“Never ever speak of this,” Madara's voice grumbled quietly. 

“Of the incredible sex we just had?” Tobirama asked without moving. “I’m hardly the type to brag about my exploits, you know.” 

“That’s not what I meant! I just- you can’t- no making fun of me for this!” 

With one eyebrow already lifting Tobirama cracked his eyes open. “Nor am I the type to mock you for your preferences. I am, however, going to shamelessly exploit them. If you thought I wasn’t going to take advantage of that little slip then I regret to say you may have misjudged me, anata.” 

Madara's answering grunt sounded more like eager capitulation than a protest. 

Cleaning up after themselves was slightly more awkward in the living room with no master bathroom a mere handful of steps away but eventually Tobirama managed to sort them both out enough that they could collapse down on to the sofa together where he found himself trapped in one corner as Madara leaned back against him with loose limbs and heavily lidded eyes. 

“Falling asleep on me?”

“No. I’m just resting my eyes for a bit.” 

“Ah, I see.” Tobirama smiled, running his fingers through the mane of hair between them. “Strangely enough I think you may have been right about all this.” 

“Well that’s not something I hear very often. Are you feeling alright? You don’t normally admit when I’m right.” 

Smacking him gently on the arm did nothing but elicit a snicker but Tobirama didn’t have the energy to do anything other than roll his eyes. “I am perfectly fine, thank you very much. All I meant was that perhaps this detestably unwanted duty may not be as terribly bad as it seems. With you supporting me I think everything will turn out alright.” 

“I will always support you,” Madara told him quietly. 

Feeling his heart clench inside his chest, Tobirama bent his neck to press a kiss against the back of his partner’s head. 

“I know. And I will always be lucky to have you.” 

“Damn straight you’re lucky to have me. I am quite the catch.” Madara harrumphed and rolled his head as though trying and failing to gather the energy for a flip of his impressive hair. 

Tobirama said nothing but in his silence there was an agreement. He might not say it aloud very often but he did recognize precisely how blessed he was. Not only to have a man like Madara in his life but to have won his honest affection, to earn his place in a heart so closely guarded. Surely there could be no higher honor. 

“We can bring the hat next time though, right?” 

“If you like.” Swallowing his laughter, Tobirama decided then that he knew the answer to his earlier question. And oddly enough his husband appeared to be right about this as well. Given the chance to go back in time, to speak to himself eight months ago and forewarn of everything that would happen in the future, he would choose to do it all again exactly as they had. Madara's love meant so much more to him now that he knew how deeply the man had searched his own soul to allow himself such emotions. To be handed a prize meant so much less than to win it for himself. 

“Are we having a nap now?” Madara asked. His voice didn’t sound particularly sleepy; if anything he seemed to be looking for an excuse to just not get up for a while. 

“Mn, if you like,” Tobirama said again. 

Listening to his husband grumble at him for being cheeky, he let his eyes fall shut and his head tilt back, basking in the scent of his most beloved person and the security of knowing that everything would turn out alright in the end. What end that might be he could not say but with Madara there at his side he found that what mattered the most was not the destination, it was the journey. 

[theradioghost]

FUN PODCASTS FOR THE MORBID AT HEART

You want some death? You want some death podcasts? Some ghosts? Some psychopomps? A little melancholia, a little black humor? I’ve got it. Of course I do. I don’t know what else you expected.

FICTION

Glasgow Ghost Stories -- A young Glaswegian looks a little too closely during an encounter with a ghost, and is drawn irrevocably into the previously-invisible world of the dead who haunt the city’s streets. Haunting, moody, and beautiful.

LIMBO -- David is dead. Now he has to deal with what comes after. A more personal, philosophically-leaning concept of one person’s afterlife; also a very short self-contained miniseries (less than an hour long total). (You might know the creator, A.R. Olivieri, from any of the multitude of other podcasts he’s involved with -- 2298, Magic King Dom, Girl in Space, Janus Descending...)

Middle:Below -- Taylor Quinn is the only person who can open doors between the Middle (the land of the living) and the Below (where restless ghosts dwell). Heather is a woman who has somehow fallen into the realm of the dead. Gil is a ghost. Sans is a cat. And between the four of them, they’re going to have to fix the problems faced by the denizens of the Below. Bad things will happen. (That’s the show’s tagline, but it’s actually been rather sweet and funny so far.)

Gal Pals Present: Overkill -- When preteen medium Madison accidentally summons the ghost of 19-year-old murder victim Aya Valasquez at a Girl Scout camp, it’s up to Aya to finally figure out what exactly has trapped so many ghosts like her in Harding Park -- and why she was murdered there. Four words: sarcastic lesbian ghost narrator.

They Say a Lot of Things -- When a curious ghost hunter leaves her tape recorder in the legendarily-haunted mansion Arborwood Grove, resident ghost Caroline Carr takes the opportunity to tell the story of her life, her death, and the many lives she’s seen pass through her abandoned home over the years. Short, sweet, and lovely.

Death by Dying -- In the idyllic town of Crestfall, Idaho, people die. Often in bizarre and inexplicable ways. And when they do, it’s the job of the local Obituary Writer to tell the story of how it happened -- but in the process of finding out those stories, he is drawn into a much darker and more mysterious story of vanished homes, monsters in the deep woods, lonely hearts, haunted bicycles, and man-eating cats. Alternately hilarious and heartbreaking.

The London Necropolis Railway -- Barney is an unusually harried ghoul, an employee of the supernatural railway that removes the spirits of the newly deceased from London. Agnes is a stubborn private detective who was recently murdered in her office by a mysterious monster. And together, they’re going to have to dodge netherworld bureaucracy long enough to track down her killer -- before Agnes has to take her own train.

Wooden Overcoats -- Antisocial twin siblings Rudyard and Antigone Funn, with the help of their hypercompetent assistant Georgie and a mouse named Madeleine, have been running a funeral parlor on the tiny Channel island of Piffling for years. The secret to their success? It’s the only one. Or at least it was -- because Eric Chapman, who may or may not be the world’s most perfect man, has just opened up his own funeral parlor right across the square. Cue sitcom nemesis shenanigans and all the morbid black humor you could desire.

& Midnight Radio -- requisite egregious self-promotion! A woman who never expected to return to her hometown writes a letter to a long-dead radio host who never left it. But when she somehow receives an on-air reply, the two of them begin an unlikely correspondence that digs up long-buried questions about the meaning of home, the way our lives touch others, and what it means to be a ghost. Remember: all ghost stories are love stories. (This is a completed ten-episode miniseries, I promise it’s good, please listen to my podcast)

NONFICTION

Death in the Afternoon -- If literally anything on this list appeals to you, then you should go to Youtube right now and subscribe to Caitlyn Doughty’s channel, Ask A Mortician. Then you should buy her books. Then you should listen to this, her podcast, in which she and her colleagues Louise Hung and Sarah Chavez from The Order of the Good Death discuss death and how human beings have dealt with it, now and in the past, across the world. Their storytelling is fascinating, thoughtful, compassionate, and sometimes a lot funnier than you’d expect, especially when they’re talking about subjects like the man who had to sue to get back his own severed, mummified leg (he’d left it in a barbecue smoker in a storage unit; seriously, just listen to the podcast). This is quite probably my favorite nonfiction show and I am very excited for season 2 to come out in March. Highly recommended.

Spirits -- The inimitable Julia Schifini and Amanda McLoughlin, along with occasional guests, pour a drink and discuss legends, folklore, and mythology from around the world, including quite a few stories about death and the undead. But if you have even a passing interest in folklore, or just in content that is good, you should listen to this show. Everyone should listen to Spirits. That is my official recommendation.

Macabre London -- Exactly what it sounds like: interesting and obscure stories of the macabre and odd in the history of London. They’ve covered stories like the actual London Necropolis Railway (a real thing which carried dead bodies out of the city to new rural cemeteries), disastrous fires on the Underground, cholera epidemics, the sinking of the Princess Alice, and a wide variety of ghost stories.

The Marble Garden -- Rather than focusing on deaths, this podcast tells stories of the incredible lives of the obscure but extraordinary who have been buried in the cemeteries of Toronto. I love this show a lot for personal nostalgic reasons, but I also find it generally lovely and thoughtful and really interesting. My favorite episode is probably Episode 3, The Blackburns, but this is one of the few shows, fiction or nonfiction, that I’ve listened through multiple times.

[ghostspideys-moved]

We’ll Have Tomorrow

Chapter Eight

A/N: It’s finally Christmas time this chapter! Since I have this all typed out already, I can say that we’re a few chapters away from finishing this series.

Pairings: Steve Harrington x OC, Nancy Wheeler x Jonathan Byers x OC (eventually)

Word Count: 3k

Summary: Christmas is finally here, and everyone is really just trying to have a good time after the chaos they endured together.

Hawthorne had been deep asleep until he felt someone shaking him awake, followed by the eager squealing of, “It’s Christmas!” It was El, and she had the brightest smile on her face, which he could just make out through bleary vision as he started to wake up. 

Once El ran out of his room, he groaned and dragged himself out of bed. Naturally, El and River were both sitting next to the Christmas tree already. From the looks of it, he hadn’t been the only one dragged out of bed seeing as Hopper was slowly making his way out of his room as well. 

Hawthorne sat near the tree, still partially half asleep. Of course, El was the most excited of the three of them. Not that he was too surprised considering this was her first proper Christmas. River and Hawthorne, at this point, hadn’t celebrated a whole lot of holidays in general seeing as their father hadn’t cared too much about them anymore. More than anything, both of them were just excited to do some sort of celebrating for once in a really long time. 

Hopper bought each of them a few presents, figuring none of them would really care too much so long as they got anything at all. Of course, he’d been right. Hawthorne now had some more books to add to his collection, and he’d definitely need them to help his reading. He wasn’t bad at it, but he certainly had some trouble here and there, so he needed the practice. 

There was a knock at the door, and River set down the Walkman she’d been looking at curiously before racing to open it. Steve came in with bags of more presents, which Hawthorne definitely hadn’t expected. But he wasn’t going to complain at this point.

El was more than excited to see Steve, but she was also drawn to the bags of presents, hoping a decent amount of them were for her. Steve ruffled her hair and brought everything in before he started handing out more presents. 

Hawthorne was more than surprised he’d even bought as much as he had, because he really didn’t have to. Of course, he kind of remembered River saying she’d invited him, but this was more than he would have expected from Steve. 

It occurred to Hawthorne that Steve had a decent amount of money, so that was probably why he’d even bought so many presents. 

Of course, most of El’s presents were a bunch of toys and other things she might have found interesting. Not that it was hard considering how new everything was to her, and therefore, everything was interesting to her. She’d given Steve a tight hug in response, a good enough indication for him that she more than appreciated the gesture. 

Hawthorne wasn’t really sure he’d known, but Steve gave him a book full of information on lots of different plants. Of course, he suspected he’d just asked River. Not very many people knew that he really loved plants. Gardening in general was a favorite of his, even if he hardly got to do it outside of the botany club he’d joined. Nonetheless, he appreciated it, and he even gave Steve a slight smile, which might as well have been Hawthorne’s version of a hug by his own standards.

River, of course, received more comics, which she was more than excited to read later. If she didn’t already have a lot of them before, she definitely did now. She seemed especially over the moon to have more Superman comics. 

At some point, there was another knock, but a shared look of confusion told Hawthorne that River didn’t know who it was either. He got up to answer it and was surprised to find Jonathan at the door. In fact, it wasn’t just him, but also Will and Joyce. He let them in, and it seemed they also brought a few presents. Not nearly as many as Steve, of course, seeing as they didn’t really have much money to go around, but it was still appreciated. 

Joyce immediately joined Hopper, who must have been the one to invite them. He could already see Joyce trying to help out with dinner, which was probably for the best. Hopper wasn’t a bad cook, or anything, but he didn’t do a whole lot of it, other than breakfast. 

Hawthorne took his spot back on the couch as El was flipping through channels nonchalantly with her powers, hoping to find a good Christmas movie. 

Jonathan took a seat next to him, neither of them really saying anything right away. Neither of them really seemed to know if they were supposed to talk or not, or what they’d even talk about. It was quite an awkward moment of silence, and Hawthorne decided to be the one to say something first. 

“How, um...how’s Will doing?” he asked quietly. The kid seemed okay so far. He was sitting next to El, debating over what to watch. Of course, he knew better than to think Will was totally okay after being possessed by the Mind Flayer. The kid didn’t seem to like people worrying over him too much, so he wouldn’t be too surprised if Will was doing his best to seem like he was okay. He didn’t particularly blame him either.

“Fine,” Jonathan replied. “Mostly. I mean, he hasn’t complained about feeling strange. He might still be a little...rattled, I guess.”

Hawthorne nodded, figuring that might be the case. “You know him better than anyone, but if there’s anything I can tell about him already, it’s that he bounces back quickly. At least to some degree.”

He’d never really talked to Will before, but he could already tell he was a tough kid considering half the shit he’d been through. Even if he didn’t know he kid well, it was easy to see he could hold his own well enough.

“Yeah, he’s a lot tougher than he looks.” Jonathan even offered a smile, which Hawthorne had to admit looked nice on him. Why didn’t he smile more?

Hawthorne smiled back and turned when El and Will had finally agreed on Rudolph the red nosed reindeer. 

What might have made this moment even better was finding out Steve knew all the words to the song, which almost made Hawthorne laugh. He wasn’t bad at singing at all, but it was hilarious watching him sing along dramatically, and River looked more than embarrassed by his theatrics. She was laughing, sure, but she also had an exasperated look on her face. Probably because of how loudly he was singing.

Steve certainly didn’t seem very ashamed, but then again, he might have been doing it to embarrass River even further. Hawthorne couldn’t say he wasn’t guilty of doing the same, and he was finding it very entertaining. 

The look of relief on River’s face when they were all called for dinner might have actually been funnier. 

At the table, food was being passed around, and there was some light conversation here and there. It was kind of nice, actually. Especially when compared to how horrible things had been only a month ago. They weren’t exactly trying to forget so much as they were trying to keep some sense of normalcy in their lives. For that, Hawthorne couldn’t blame anyone, and it wasn’t like he hadn’t been doing the same. 

As Hawthorne was eating, he listened more than he actually talked. 

“I thought you said you guys don’t celebrate Christmas?” Steve asked River, his brows furrowed in confusion.

“Technically, we don’t,” she answered. “But El was super excited about it, and we haven’t really celebrated Hanukkah properly in a really long time, so this is just as fun, honestly. It’s just less days of celebrating.”

“Wait, don’t you get presents all eight days during Hanukkah?” Will asked. “I think I remember someone in my class mentioning that.”

Steve gasped and turned to River and Hawthorne. “You mean this whole time, I could have been getting you guys presents?”

“You brought a whole bag of them. I think that more than makes up for it,” Hawthorne pointed out. “Besides, no one said you had to.”

“I say I had to. If I would have known that, I would have given you guys presents on all eight days.” He almost seemed a little sad that he hadn’t had the chance, which was amusing on its own. 

River shrugged. “We kind of didn’t really pay attention to the days while we were settling in, so I didn’t even realize, in all honesty,��� she said. “So don’t worry about it all that much.”

Steve didn’t seem any less sad about it, but he let it go for now. At this rate, Hawthorne wouldn’t be that surprised if he tried to give it a shot next year.

“First I miss your birthdays, and now I missed a whole eight days of a holiday?” He shook his head and stuffed his mouth with ham. “Such a wasted opportunity,” he mumbled between bites.

“Well, if it makes you feel any better,” Hawthorne said as he finished his plate, “this year the last day of Hanukkah is tomorrow.”

“When did it even start?”

“Last Tuesday.”

“That means it was going during the Christmas Party!” Steve exclaimed, turning to River.

She sighed and gave an apologetic look. “I told you. I forgot.”

Steve shook his head. Hawthorne could practically see the gears in his head turning, which almost scared him. Whatever  Steve might be planning, he wasn't sure he wanted to be around for it. He might not know him too well, but Hawthorne was sure any plan of his was bound to be...interesting to say the least.

Dinner went by quickly, and while everyone was socializing, Hawthorne slipped outside. Even in the warm flannel he wore ninety percent of the time, it was freezing. He could feel the cold air biting at his nose. It had to be red even if he hadn't been out terribly long. Despite the cold, he stood on the porch, leaning against the rail as he let his mind wander.

Hawthorne hadn't even heard the door open. Admittedly, he nearly jumped when Jonathan suddenly joined him. 

"Shit, don't give me a heart attack like that," he mumbled.

Jonathan snorted and stuffed his hands in his pockets. "What are you doing out here?" he asked. "It's cold as shit out here."

"I could ask you the same."

"I asked first."

Hawthorne chuckled and shrugged. "Fair enough. I'm just not much of a social person," he said.

Jonathan nodded. "Yeah. I can't really say it's really my scene either."

Hawthorne offered a small smile. He found his eyes wandering over Jonathan's figure. There wasn't any particular reason why, and he wasn't entirely sure why he was having the thoughts he was having. He had to admit, Jonathan was surprisingly easy to talk to, or maybe that was just him, and he wasn't unattractive by any stretch of the imagination. Of course, Hawthorne's face grew red the moment he'd been caught.

"Do I have something on my face?" Jonathan asked, a slightly teasing tone in his voice. 

Hawthorne's mouth went dry for a moment. "What? Oh, no. Sorry I just...I was thinking," he said.

"About?"

Sighing, he crossed his arms, his gaze turning forward again.

"Do you think...do you think everything will go back to normal now that everything's over?" he blurted out. "You know, after the Demodogs, the lab." He hesitated for a moment, turning to face him again. "Everything with your brother."

Jonathan smiled weakly and huffed, his breath escaping in a visible cloud that quickly dissipated. 

"The first time this happened, it took awhile for everything to go back to normal," he answered. "And even then, it was never truly the same. By now, I think I've accepted that it never really will be."

Hawthorne rubbed the back of his neck. "I guess you'd be the expert in this situation."

"I don't know if I'd say that," Jonathan said. "But I think I'm definitely qualified to give some advice at least." He grinned, and it was quite possibly the most genuine look Hawthorne had ever seen him give. It was almost strange how weak that look almost made him feel.

Hawthorne turned away from him again, not wanting Jonathan to see just how red his face was. He might be able to easily blame it in the cold, but it wasn't worth the risk at this rate. He wasn't even sure why he was suddenly thinking the way he was. At any rate, it became clear to him that he was going to have a hard time focusing near Jonathan.

~

Christmas quickly came and went in a rush. Even after several days, at least half of the decorations were still up. The tree, of course, was still standing, though a number of the decorations had either been removed or came off before someone put them away.

Hawthorne was busying himself with making breakfast. At least this way he could keep El from eating more Eggos, at least until lunch rolled around anyways.

He placed a plate in front of El when there was a knock at the door. Unsure who it might be, they both shared a look before Hawthorne went to check. Of course, he logically assumed it had to be any of El's friends, or Jonathan, or anyone else who would actually know where they were.

When he opened the door, Steve was standing on the other side. He should have been surprised perhaps, but it wasn't much of a shocker at this point.

He stared at Steve for a moment before turning inside the house. "River, Steve's here." Hawthorne felt it was safe to assume he was here for her.

"Actually, I have a bit of a surprise for everyone," Steve cut in. Well, there was first for everything, including Hawthorne being proven wrong.

El perked up at the mention of a surprise, and River was just coming out of her room when she'd heard him.

"A surprise? What kind of surprise?" she asked.

Steve grinned and motioned for all of them to follow him. The three of them shared a confused look before following.

He led them out to his car and stopped them. "Okay, so I was thinking about how you guys didn't get to celebrate Hanukkah," he started, excitedly fidgeting. "And I thought, 'what makes up for eight days worth of presents?' So, I think I finally figured it out."

Of all the things Hawthorne was expecting when Steve opened the car door, a dog was certainly the last thing.

A German Shepherd hopped out and jumped up at Steve, scratching at his legs. He was small enough that he picked it up, the grin on his face never leaving.

"So, what do you think?" he asked.

Hawthorne's mouth fell open. "You...got us a dog?"

"Yeah! Pretty cool, huh? I figured I'd have to go big to make up for missing eight days," he said, as if that truly explained everything. "And don't worry, I bought food, a bed, all that other good stuff."

El seemed a little hesitant at first, but when Steve handed the dog over and it licked her face, she laughed and pet it.

"Steve, this seems like a lot to throw at us this early in the morning," River sighed.

"I know, I know. And I'm sorry about that. I just...I wanted it to be a surprise."

Hawthorne turned to the dog, still content to be in El's arms, its tail wagging wildly.

"He also doesn't have a name yet. I thought you guys might want the honor," Steve added.

The three of them shared a look, trying desperately to think of a name they could agree on. After some debate, El tossed in an idea they all seemed to like.

“Why don’t we call him Rexasaurus Rex?” she suggested.

Of course, they weren’t going to tell her that was a weird name, especially because she didn’t have any concept yet of how naming worked. That, and she was a kid. It was cute, at least.

"How about we call him Rex for short?" River chimed in.

El seemed more than happy with that, so they decided that was a good enough name. Hawthorne felt like that fit him well enough.

"Shit, we should probably see how Hopper feels about this?" Hawthorne realized.

Steve shrugged. "Don't worry. If he hesitates, I've been known to be persuasive."

They all went back inside where, luckily, Hopper was watching TV as he usual did on his days off. He looked up when he heard all of them, though he paused when he spotted Rex. 

“That’s a dog,” he said rather observantly.

“Yeah, about that. Steve bought us a dog,” River said. “We can keep him, right?”

Hopper seemed rather hesitant, but before he could refuse, El cut in. 

“We’ll take care of him ourselves.” She gave him a pleading look. Her big, brown eyes mixed with a pout were enough to crack anyone, even Hopper it seemed. 

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Fine. But you guys will have to take care of him,” he said. “And we’ll have to set some rules, because he’s not allowed on the couch, for starters.”

They cheered and went to help Steve take in everything else. Hawthorne helped set up once it was decided Rex’s bed would go between their rooms. Once they were good to go, they let Rex sniff around a little as Steve was on his way out. He let them discuss how they were going to divide up their responsibilities, which, of course, took some debate.

It took a while, but eventually the three of them came to an agreement. The general agreement seemed to be that none of that they’d take turns with the different chores involved in taking care of a dog. They were also in agreement that the only thing they really cared about was that they actually had a dog now.

Hawthorne realized this was probably the most normal he’d felt in a long time, and he could definitely get used to it.

Taglist: @bravest-at-heart​ @musicalytrashpanda​ @queenofthehairharrington​

[shesawriter39049]

|THE PLUG|M|JIMIN|21QS|

SUMMARY: Jimin's your "Plug" whose low key kinda becoming your man... so the two of you decide to play a deep yet equally cheeky game of 21 questions in an attempt to get to  know each other deeper than JUST sex!

SMUT/ANGST/ FLUFF

PART 1 OF 3

They’ve both been through some shit, and I think secretly they could always sense that, which is part of why they're drawn to each other.

They're also still coming down from there “Post sex euphoria” so everything's a little hazy

Jimin’s just fuckin perfect….and he can’t keep his hands off the OC to save his life, so there is a lot of kissing and touching mixed in!

Jimin does not have the typical gang-related backstory..so your in for a treat

5K- ISH

You CAN read this as a stand-alone but “The Plug” is a series

NON-SEXUAL WARNINGS: Language, Mentions of abuse, drugs, mental illness, death, violence, coming from a broken home....

SEXUAL WARNINGS: Just a lot of touching, kissing, teasing, light dirty talk,mentions of kinks ...implied smut...it’s gonna end with some actual smut though lol

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`

“ I cannot believe you really won't share your Slurpee with me, after I stood there, mixed your 29 thousand flavors. Strategically layered in your random ass gummy candies in the processes..mixed it so damn well you would've thought I was a certified mixologist! Yet you won't share?!”  Both brows completely furrowed in the middle of his face...

I don’t know what’s funnier, the fact that he was genuinely offended or the level of unbothered that danced along your face as you laced your lips around your straw! Accompanied by an almost possessive hold on your cup, from under the over-sized fabric of your hoodie, well Jimin's hoodie actually! You were gripping that cup for dear life, the more he talked!

"Ugh exactly, you had the opportunity to make your own..you didn't…” Shrugging nonchalantly unbothered actually wasn’t even a strong enough word to describe you right now! “I'mma teach you something real quick Y/N is an only child...I don't share.."  

A snort leaving his lips at that "Fuckin brat.." This man sounds far too fond for you to even be offended.

 The minute the two of you approached the light he gripped you by the front of your hoodie. Effortlessly licking his way through your mouth with a low groan that almost sounds impatient. I guess he decided if you wouldn’t actually share..he'd taste it one way or another. A slight moan leaving your lips as you recline your jaw giving him more room to explore your mouth.  I think Jimin's new goal when kissing you was to leave you completely and utterly breathless. The slow, yet skilled languid roll of his tongue against your own, it’s crazy how well he knows your body already! Then, like clockwork, once he has you damn near clawing at his shirt to pull him closer…..

 "Traffic lights are around 120 seconds by the way..." Pulling back with an amused smirk just as the light turned green...you actually wanna choke him out at this point!  

FIRST OFF, I don't think you've ever seen someone look so effortlessly sexy as they drove, posture laxed, seat reclined. One hand on the wheel the other gently stroking your bare thigh, hair slightly wavy, messily tousled out of his face. The angle also reminded you how disrespectfully sharp this man’s jawline is...then your eyes traveled down to his sinfully thick neck, and that's when your first question popped into mind.

(1)“Why do you like to be marked?” The words zipped through the air, thankful that your first question seemed to pop into your head naturally! You didn't want this to feel forced...you just wanted the two of you to almost flow off of each other...

A slow exhale left his chest, reaching over to turn down the radio, licking his lips “I thought we were saving all sexual questions for last? " Brow quirked in your direction as he glanced over briefly, just enough for you to be reminded that Jimin was fine as fuck.

"We are...but I don't think your reasons purely sexual..." Adjusting your posture so you were almost laying on your side. Gazing over at him a little too fondly for your liking ...but you couldn't help it...

You could already see the smirk playing on his face even though he wasn't looking at you "It's not that I like to be marked...I just like to be marked by you…” Turning his head just enough to catch your expression as he said what you kind of already knew. Still, you can’t help but find yourself repeatedly baffled by how straightforward this man was. Throat feeling dry as all hell, regardless of the fact that you’re currently inhaling your Slurpee as we speak! “And your right… I've grown to realize ..the reason stems deeper than just my dick getting hard every time you do it …though...that’s diffidently a plus”

Humming low around the straw, you’re all ears…and if you didn't know any better the man next to you may have been blushing!

”Do you remember what color lipstick you had on the first time we met?” Eyes going completely wide at the question, mind drawing straight blanks because what!? The lack of response triggered a low chuckle to rumbled in his chest. “I do,it was a deep red..almost burgundy actually...”

The fact that he even remembered that, you’d be lucky if an ex remembered your damn birthday nevertheless a lipstick hue....

”We were both drunk as hell, but I’ll fast forward because I have another question for you separately in regards to that night in general…”

Already well aware of what he was getting at, whelp, the chances of you getting through this without crying are completely out the window now!

“When we were making out, and dancing all over each other in the club, you ended up kissing me every damn where..one place, in particular, was my neck. Which is common” Shrugging slightly, pausing to temporally focus on the road as thee was someone in front of you going negative two!, So Jimin opted to swerve lanes. 

“I didn't even notice until the morning but when I woke up it was like...I still had little memories of you crawling all over my skin. I couldn’t get you outta my head even if I wanted too....” Now theirs no hiding it, he, is blushing and it has your toe curling. 

“ Then...months later when I came over for the delivery, and we ended up actually having sex, the first thing you did when I slid you onto my lap was latch onto my neck like it was yours! As if to mark your territory.” Turning his head to yours lightly a slight smirk before bringing his attention back to the road. “Of course sexually it felt amazing because I like pain, and you went, in..fuck” A slight moan fell off his lips as he released the moment, and suddenly you really wanted to straddle his lap again. 

“...Then the next morning even though you were gone..you really weren’t, every time I looked at my shoulder, or my neck...it was like I could  feel every second of that night, over and over again....” Suddenly Jimin went from just rubbing your thigh to kneading them between those skilled fingers of his....edging higher and higher. 

Fuck.

“ I was never one for hickeys or bite marks, not because I think it’s trashy or anything clearly I'm not one to judge. But because I never liked someone leaving their mark on me. I didn't like the idea of someone looking at me and knowing someone’s had me..that someone left a piece of themselves on my skin...until you…”

There was a slight pause that felt like it lasted for HOURS, why did you wanna do this again!?  This was only the first question and you felt light headed!

“For some reason I just really liked the idea of having you on my skin, of knowing you were there and that spot it just as much yours as it is mine…” Sinking his teeth into his bottom lip trying to hide the very timid almost bashful smile that moved up his face “I don't know...even from jump there was just always something very intimate about that..with you… Something that’s stemmed a little deeper than just a pain kink..”

Fuckkkk, your face was hot, your entire body was hot, and not even in a sexual way...just ...damn, Jimin just flat out admitted he likes the idea of almost “belonging to you” in the most primal sense of the word! You know he’s very open, not one for games which is refreshing to a the least but that doesn't make his bluntness any less dizzying!

Your eyes screamed how flustered you were, as you gazed up at him, not even sure how to respond to that, but before you even had a chance too…..

(2)“Why do you sub for me...effortlessly....beautifully actually...when your clearly not a sub by nature?” His pause was intentional...trying to read your body language a little. 

“ And yes, in the same notion...I’m pretty sure your reasons not purely sexual either baby…” Continuously rubbing soothing circles in your thigh as you slouched down in your seat even more….it was like he knew he was probing at a sensitive topic even before he gauged your reaction. 

“Well, ugh..fuck” A shaky breath fluttered through your chest and you can’t help but chuckle at how awkward you currently feel...Believe it or not, you actually didn't see this one coming/ However this was your idea, he didn't hold back so neither were you!

“I’ve always felt the need to have control in my life which isn’t necessarily a bad thing but sometimes it’s exhausting to be real. Honestly, it’s because I’ve been let down a lot, so I find it hard to just...let go...” It’s actually a little sad how nonchalant those words left your lips, as if you aren’t even phased by disappointment anymore!

The slow nod he gave as you spoke was comforting, almost as if to say he kinda already figured that played a major part in your sexual preferences.  Your issues with being in “control” trusting people…his coloration also shows that both of you were actually very much in tune with one another ..more than just sexually! Even if you’d never realized it until now.

“So ya know the saying…”if you want something done right, ya gotta do it yourself…” I guess I applied that to my sex life as well!  I’ve always wanted to be able to just lay there, and let my partner have free reign and control over my body ...” 

A pregnant pause fluttered through the air and it wasn’t at all intentional ..for some reason you felt felt..nervous...being this open and honest and he could tell right away…

“Take your time, it’s just you, me and the highway for another 30 miles baby...I got nothin but time…”

Clearing your throat before continuing, voice a little shakier this time around, “I’ve always wanted to be able to give someone full control and still be comfortable and confident enough, that I didn’t have to be in control to get what I need. Of course, shit like that doesn’t flow well in one night stands, because you don’t have time to get to know one another. So I am speaking in the instances of a reoccurring partner, somebody that could take over and I  could still be purely satisfied because in case you can’t tell I’m not one to fake a damn thing…” An airy chuckle fluttered into the air breaking up the tension a little.

“Up until I met you I never felt like I could just kind of “be”...in the moment ya know? Not think about a damn thing...or HAVE to give instruction to feel like my needs would be fulfilled.”

The cool breeze wisping through the car was a good filler..as you stumbled through your thoughts.. The slight hum from the wind silenced any awkwardness that tried to linger in the air.

“I don’t know how to explain it..my mind and body was just naturally at ease with you...I just felt safe....which is odd because I didn't really know you. Yet for some reason I could just tell..that in “that” moment..when we were tangled up doing whatever..I didn't have to worry or think..I could just close my eyes and feel. Have a little escape from reality..live in a world where someone else was in control and it wouldn’t all go to shit! I don’t know...It probably sounds supid but-” Flagging your hand in the air almost as if to disregard your entire statement.

“What??!” Turning his head so his eyes could meet your briefly, he actually looked offended, to be honest, “Nothing about that was stupid, Y/N thats what sex is...it’s pleasure but it’s also an escape...it’s meant to make you feel good..to relive your body of all it’s stress and bullshit! There’s nothing wrong with you just wanting to...be in the moment, and just let yourself be used in any way you want…anyway you need” His entire delivery changed within seconds your thighs were instantly humming, as Jimin’s bedroom voice slid through the air.

The circles he was tracing up your thigh with his fingers..started edging higher and higher up your leg “Aye..” Pausing until you made eye contact with him, “Do you know how sexy that is!? How damn good that makes me feel?” I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again...this man’s voice...just the right about of need laced through his tone. Just enough to make you wanna give him whatever the hell he wanted! 

“To know that I can be that for you..that you trust me enough when I’m wrapped around you to just do whatever the fuck I want? Be the one to give you everything you need.... and then some….”  There was just the perfect blend of genuine care, appreciation, and of course pure, PURE smugness that moved between his tone and his face. Ya know what!? You couldn't even be mad because dammit he deserved it!

“I mean...there’s a reason I keep comin right??” Brow quirked at the blatant innuendo laced within that…. Biting down on your bottom lip tentatively as you pondered how to transition to this next question. Placing your hand over his..intertwining his fingers with yours instantly….

A humm leaving his lips at that, kissing the back of your hand...

(3) “Ummm...hopefully this isn’t too personal but you were the one that brought it up earlier so of course I’m curious. What’s the deal with your family, you don’t have to share more than you’re ready to but I am just- “

“My dad’s a total piece of shit” Was the first thing that slipped past his lips more casual than expected….. Your lips forming the “O” shape...as you stared back at him...not sure how to process that actually…

“He was barely around, and very, very abusive... “ The emphasis on that had your stomach doing 386373 knots “I’m first-generation Korean -American...so both of my parents are Korean born with very thick accents, they struggled with jobs. My sperm donor did manual labor and my mother often cleaned houses ..and or waitressed.” The grip on he held on your hand only got tighter the more he spoke.

“When I was 15, my father left for 5 months, so my older brother and I both got jobs to help support my mom. Luckily the house was paid off so we didn't have many bills..but my mom fell into a very..very deep stage of depression ...” Bringing his hand up to your mouth..kissing it gently which made him smile a little. Even though it was clear he was letting himself fall back into that headspace..almost as if he were reliving it all over again...

“ She was one of those women that I think... felt like she needed validation from my father and felt as though there was something wrong with her because HE couldn't pull his shit together.  One night I got a call at work, my “dad” had beat my mom to the point of her almost going unconscious…” You could literally hear the lump in his throat at that..slowly running your thumb over his palm….repeatedly. Dusting your lips over the back of his hand...as you watched his jaw, and grip on the steering wheel tighten.

“She cried to me and my brother, that she couldn't afford to leave him...I had saved up some money...from working at a bowling alley...and at multiple little mom and pop restaurants. We moved her into a trailer...so she could have freedom! It was low income the rent wasn't shit! She went back to waitressing...shit was cool for hell I don't know maybe 2 months! Then I come home one night after working a double at fucking 16 years old..and all his shit is moved back in...”

You had a gut feeling this was going one of two ways...neither were the most warming

“We got into it..bad… real bad…” Eyes cutting over to yours briefly and they were almost pitch black “I beat the fuck outta  him, and I still don’t regret it, he’s lucky I didint kill his ass. He’s probably the only person I could kill with my bare hands and have no regrets…” It was utterly terrifying how calm he got when he said that, no emotion left to be read on his skin..yet you got it...you really really did. Not even able to fathom how he must’ve felt seeing his mother like that!

“I told her I was done! I can’t and I won’t fuckin do this...so it’s him...orrr me…” Eyes glancing over to meet yours again, a dry scoff leaving his chest…

Not even trying to hide the hurt laced within your eyes, as you gazed back at him like a sad puppy, you weren’t trying to pitty him but fuck!  How can you not after hearing that!? 

“Yuppp, cops were called so I dipped...at 16...I went back days later to get my shit..and when I realized nothing changed..my mind was made up! I’ve tried over the years to smooth it out but...nah….Nah…” Shaking his head in disgust at just the thought of it..there was so much more..you wanted to unwarp from that. But you didn't wanna  pry...this was about the two of you sharing what you felt comfortable sharing...nothing more nothing less

A deep slow exhale left his body as he slipped his hand away from yours..the pout more than evident as you lost his warmth. Reaching over to grab a joint, placing it between those dangerously plump lips of his. Lighting the tip with him even asking you to ...taking a long drag inhaling the smoke through his lips, blowing it all out of his nostrils…

“I’m sorry..” slipped past your lips before you even had a chance to think about it...a faint smile tugging on his lips, shaking his head disapprovingly at your choice of words

“No need to be sorry, I wouldn’t be me if that shit wouldn't have happened ...I've learned not to question my battles..”  Placing the joint back between his lips, you could see it in his eyes he was thinking of his neck question.

‘Well since you got me all in my feels, before we get a little light-hearted...I mideswell ask the question I implied about earlier…” Cocking his head to the side, blowing a cloud of smoke in your direction as you waited anxiously for the words to spill off his lips.

(4) “Why were you falling apart outside of Johnnys the night I first met you??? What had you so broken that you were crying alone behind your car?” His tone and his eyes got extremely soft as the question rolled off his tongue..leaning over slightly welcoming the joint between your lips before responding because fuck if you didn’t need it right about now…

Letting the smoke just fill your lungs before you reclined your neck...puffing out a cloud...eyes fluttering shut in the process “It was my dad's birthday...and he died when I was 20...during my junior year of college.”

You watched Jimin's eyes flutter close briefly, dropping his head a little as you two approached the traffic light. I  think he was hoping for something more along the lines of “My ex dumped or cheated on me” Not something this heavy…

“Y/N...baby I’m sorry I didn't think it was anything like that, if you don’t wanna-”

“Hey…” Gripping his chin slightly ‘I told you I wanted us to get to know each other...If I can let you come in me I can open up a little….” A nervous chuckle fell from your lips before pulling him in for a quick kiss..which wasn't so quick. “Come’re”  Pressing down hard on the breaks, using his opposite hand that was on the wheel to grab you by the back of your neck. Tongue toying around with yours almost teasingly because he didn't have time for much else. Luckily for the two of you no cars were on the road this time of night, moaning against his tongue at just the taste of him. His palms warm against your skin..already had your body at ease, little did he know how fucked this entire scenario really was. But at this moment, you were calm...heart rate slowing down with every languid roll off his tongue.

Stroking your cheek with his thumb as he pulled back tentatively it was written all over his face he didn’t wanna let you go…”You are.so.damn.beautiful...fuckk…” He almost sounded breathless as he gazed back at you, not even trying to hide the smile that stretched from ear to ear.

“ I’m really happy you choose to be my rider tonightt...that were getting to do...”this”..that I’m getting to explore your mind in the same way I do your body....”” Was it nessicary for him to be this smooth??! Just curious...Biting down on that plush bottom lip of his before leaning over to place one more kiss along your lips. Forcing himself to bring his focus back to the road.

“Me too” fell from yours in nothing more than a whisper as you got readjusted in your seat, you weren't sure if  the two of you were still in post-coital bliss or what! But this vibe was such a mood and you never wanted it to end! Placing the joint in the hand that was gripping the wheel so he could reconnect his fingers with yours.

“I grew up a daddy’s girl my mother actually had some mental issues that only got worse with age! She refused to get help so for my safety, my dad got soul custody. It was bad...like sneak in my room and try and kidnap me bad …”  You couldn't help but laugh at Jimin’s expression as his eyes damn near bugged out of their sockets...that's typically the way most people react...and or ask you when your “LifeTime” special was coming out!

“My father had a heart condition, it’s not genetic..it was a defect because his mom was a drug addict ...so with him playing super dad on top of being a firefighter! He never put himself first and I think he didn’t want to worry me while I was away at college. So shit got a lot worse than he lead me to believe..like I thought it all crashed and burned at once ya know? But as the years go on, and I really step back and think about the way things were..I don’t think that was the case…”

Jimin could feel the tension in your body as you squeezed down on his hand, thighs pattering against the floor anxiously “Sometimes I just feel...guilty... “ there was nothing subtle about the way your voice started to waiver in your chest...suddenly feeling almost light headed…

”- Because we were so close and I guess I feel like I should’ve been able to tell something was wrong...and to be honest deep down I think I did I just-Fuck-” Breaking your hand away from his, placing both of your hands over your face as you felt your chest swell, you really hated crying in front of people. Though you were completely silent your muscles were tensing painfully hard, almost as if your body was caving in on itself.  It’s been a minute since you’ve talked about this...

“Hey, heyyyy” Voice sitting barely above a whisper as he spoke, you didn't even realize it because you were too busy trying to stop yourself from falling apart!  But Jimin pulled over ...Putting the car in park, and throwing the joint in the ashtray  “Shhh, it’s okay, it’s okay...I got you…”  All you could hear was static zipping through your head as he unbuckled your seatbelt.

Effortlessly lifting you over the center council in one motion placing you on his lap, body naturally melting into his. Which only made you cry even harder once you felt his chest flesh against your cheek, legs dangling across the car in the process. Chest rising and falling painfully hard as your breath hiccuped in your chest. Jimin’s hand soothing up your back..lips pressed firm into your hair as he tried to keep you calm. Feeling like complete trash for even bringing that night up...not that he could’ve even fathomed  it would turn into this!

“I’m soo sorry, really I wouldn't have mentioned-” Shaking your head furiously cutting him off, finally pulling your face from his chest wiping it hastily with the sleeve of your hoodie. Nose and eyes bright ass red...cheeks already puffy…

“Fuck- no, no, it’s not your fault, I don’t know where this came from  I jus-Shit…” Your temples were pounding, your chest was tight you felt like you were damn near suffocating, every breath managed to knock the wind out of you repedetaly! 

“Just breathe..breathe for me baby, like I said..I got all the time in world I told Brandi and Tim I’d be to them before 7AM...they work midnights. I’m not rushing you, your my only concern right now!” You'd never met someone with such patience, he sat there silently… as you tried to pull your shit together! Stroking his hands up your back, giving you your space to do, and feel whatever you needed too.

“In reality, there's no way I couldve known...nobody’s a mind reader, and it’s clear he didn't want me to know, in retrospect I know that. It’s just really hard to make myself believe it sometimes…”  Stroking his jaw, forcing a timid smile to move up your face as you felt him lean over and kiss your fingers.

“ The day we met, I had just gotten a promotion..finally doing what my degree was for and not just someones damn assistant. I just really wanted to call my dad..and hear him tell me how proud he was of me-” Everything died off your tongue at that point..voice shattering .....you were done..next question PLEASE!

You kinda just gave up at this point...there's no way in hell you’d be able to get this story out..not right now at least...reclining back a little so your back was resting against the steering wheel. Trying to stop your breath from hiccuping in your chest! Letting your eyes flutter shut in an attempt to do as he said… breath… you felt Jimin’s hands soothe up your thighs before his lips connected to the bulging vein on your neck. Painting kisses on every inch of skin he could reach, his motives weren’t sexual...he was just trying to relax you, and he knows his touch does that..effortlessly…

Slipping one hand up under your hood, soothing his palm between your chest and your shoulder before settling on the curve of your breast, resting casually over your heart. Taking mental note as it slowly started to even out the more he kissed you. So he didn't stop...thumb gently stroking your skin...he’d do it for hours if need be.

(5) “ How did you go, from working at a bowling alley..to this??” The question broke through the silence, voice slightly husky from crying..finally letting your eyes flutter open, only to be met by the beauty man in front of you. Who was smiling fondly back in your direction

“Because of a man..named Tim, who's the only person in my life...that has ever gotten me to the point that you were just at...when talking about your dad.”

The reference alone made you smile, just thankful to know it seems Jimin DID have someone in his life that gave a fuck about him!

“He would frequent the alley at night, typically play a couple of rounds with two kids that were a couple years older than me named Yoongi and Namjoon. They actually worked for him, Tim ran his own construction company… he also grew his own bud.”

A smile spreading across his face as he noticed you already starting to connect the dots as he spoke. “They’d drink beers and just dick around a little, I met him two years prior to me moving out of my mom’s, my original plan was to just sleep in my car until I figured it out. That lasted about a week...then one night I was off, and drunk..and playing pool with Tim and Yoongi and it spilled out..Tim asked..well, told me to come move in with him!”

“Oh thank fuck!!” Fluttered from your chest with the biggest smile imaginable because the idea of 16-year-old Jimin roughing it in his car damn near broke your heart.

He graced you with that smile again, the one where his eyes disappeared into his face...the cutest shit you’d ever seen in your damn life!

“ Mmmhmm...graduated early at 16 actually, then I started working for Tim, because it was cash he’d let me work as many hours as there was work..and Tim always had work!  While living with him we’d smoke..but he also taught me how to properly trim plants! He tried to teach Yoongi and Joon but neither of them had the patience for it! I’m a night owl by nature..I guess because I got used to hearing my damn parents argue all fuckin night….”

There was a blatant shift within him at just the mention of his parents, the sudden fondness he had while speaking of Tim ...was long gone.Stroking his chin with your thumb, almost as if you were trying to pull him out of his thoughts!

“He’d take me along on his more..civil drops I guess you’d say….”

“Ahh so he’d take you with him to see his “Brandi or Tim” You chimed in playfully reaching for your Slurpee which was all syrup at this point.

“Exactly…:” Eyeing the gummy shark you had wedged between your teeth...leaning in slightly allowing him to bite half, but in true Jimin fashion there was no way in hell he’d let you get that close without stealing a kiss. Oh how easily this man got distracted when you were around! Catching the tail of the candy with his teeth before briefly slipping his tongue past the seam of your lips with a slight moan, as the two of you volleyed the piece of candy between your tongues. Laughing into the kiss which ultimately ended up pulling the two of you apart, because he reallyyyy wasn’t trying to let go anytime soon…

“Finish your story sir! No cliffhangers allowed! !”

Eyes rolling to the back of his head with an exaggerated sigh before complying “ Fineee, Long story short….because I can go on for years about that man! I don’t know what I would’ve done or where I’d be without him, honestly I’d probably be in jail right now..” Chest getting painfully tight at his blunt honesty, slightly because you could somewhat relate to it! Especially once your dad died, and you suddenly didn't have a house to come home too...you had to figure shit out reallllllll quick!

“ He had lung cancer, and of course his line of work is really hard on the body regardless, he found out he had it when I was 19. That same year he looked at me and said “If a day comes and I’m not here… I need to know your sleeping under a roof every night!”

His eyes left yours briefly gazing out the window as he nervously grazed his bottom lip with his teeth...placing your drink down so you could let your fingers get lost in his hair. Just gently massaging his scalp as he talked...hoping it would put him at ease.

“So, I had saved up a couple of thousand dollars, between working on houses...and ... other things that you may not wanna know. I used the cash and bought a really shitty, 2 bedroom house off the auction list . Obviously it needed a ton of work, but Tim , Yoongi, Joon, and some of his other guys would come over and help me fix it up for damn near 6 months straight. Even after we just worked a 10 hour day..and the only payment they’d accept was bud, beer..and pizza!” You could see him smiling through the glass, though he still wouldn't look at you,  you weren’t gonna force him...when he was ready he’s make eye contact again. You were just happy he was smiling and not crying…

“Honestly those were some of the happiest years of my life...I never thought I could be happy until I met them.” Unfortunately the smile started to fade, and again..your gut already told you why!

“As I got older and Tim got a little weaker, I got more involved with “that” side of the business. I started doing 90% of his drops,both in and out of state. He taught me how to plant them, clean them, feed them...make sure they cured properly...how to make the perfect hybrid..how to turn it into wax..butter..oils..you name it!”

Ahh so Tim was not only a father figure...but a mentor as well….

“Early 2016, his cancer got really really bad and he was in hospice and we all knew he wasn’t going to make it ! He didn’t have any kids and he hated his kinda sorta ex-wife…”

That’s when Jimin eyes finally met yours and you wished they didn’t those big brown puppy dog eyes of his were completely glazed over. “I was at the hospital with him, and he told me he wanted to stop all medications and treatments and just let whatever was going to happen, happen…:”

You watched his head recline against the glass, eyes swelling...he didn't even try and stop the single tear that fell from his face. Jaw twitching in the process…”That was the hardest shit I ever had to go through...I didn't even cry that hard when I walked away from my parents. He just- I wake up and think about him every.damn.day...shit fuckin sucks man...” You could tell he was holding onto those tears for dear life, trying his damndest not to let them leave his eyes....

Men were tricky when they were vulnerable...you weren’t sure how to read him, until he grabbed you, positioning your head in the crook of his neck. Not sure if he just wanted you there for comfort or if he just didn't want to make eye contact while he cried..either way you compiled ... Especially once you felt how hard he exhaled once your body made contact with his, almost as if he was holding his breath prior. Kissing “your spot” repeatedly as he talked, the feeling of a couple stay tears landing in your hair had your chest swelling in the meantime!

“He told me to take his spare key and take whatever I wanted.. And more importantly, make sure his plants make it to harvest and make sure I make some damn good money off of them.” You couldn't help but laugh at that..your breath tickling the side of Jimin's neck which pulled a tentative chuckle from his throat that was much needed. You heard him sniffle a couple of times, the slight shift let you know he was wiping his face on his sleeve, but you didn't look. Respecting his space..just soothing his chest, and kissing every inch of skin you could reach…

Again you wanted this to flow..not feel forced..if Jimin’s not ready to cry in front of you then he’s not ready..hopefully, someday he’s comfortable enough to do so! 

“ So that’s what I did I took pretty much all of his crop..and some other substances that he often played with...” Eyes suddenly going wide as if he just had a very vivid flashback..hoping he’d share with the class...

“Now I’m not gonna lie...shit almost got reallll ugly when I went to sell his other….” products” but that’s a long story that will save that for a different day…”

Nooo fuck no...why would he do that!? Now he knows it’s gonna flood your mind until he actually explains what the hell happened! And more importantly what was it? Coke? Heroin? Ecstasy?!  

“Real shit, I didn't take anything materialistic, except a couple of shirts, hats, and hoodies that he wore a lot. Items that just reminded me of him like I didn’t care for his TV or anything. But now, fast forward... it’s been 3 years since he’s been gone and it’s just become my thing. Tim didn’t commercially but he always wanted to, he said that would be his retirement plan, he’d stop working on houses, buy a farm and get licensed. So that’s a big reason why I eventually did it, once I had enough saved for a license and everything.... I’m just naturally good at it, I enjoy it and more importantly, I don’t look like the type to have an eighter in his trunk, soooo that helps!!”

Hell yeah I’m sure it does, when you first found out he was a dealer even years ago you legit thought your friend was joking..like is this the porn hub version orrrrr!?

“Thankfully, a lot of Tim’s clients knew me because I've been doing drops for him since I was like 17...once they realized my crop was up the par..they stuck with me. Then of course over the years, I’ve made some of my own clients too, clearly the dispensaries and stuff I got on my own. I’ve rendered a lot of really dope customers though, including this really sexy little thing I met out at Johnny's damn near 8 months ago now...! She just can’t get enough...”

The sudden change in pace had your lips heading on a different mission, not sure if Jimin just worked like that...where his moods could shift quickly or if he just needed a distraction from how deep shit was getting...either way...you decided to give him what he needed. 

“Mmm..oh yeah???” Finally doing what he’s been mentally begging for as you licked a stop up the side of his neck, before sinking your teeth right into the patch of skin right beneath his jaw. Grinding your hips down into his hard..until you pulled a restrained moan from his throat. Hand slipping up under hoodie so smack your ass, only to find.. you’re not wearing panties because of course, you aren't. A low growl slips past his lips as you bounce on his lap slightly, blunt nails digging into your bare ass. “Behaveeee..daddy..we still got like 13 questions left…” Wrapping your lips around his skin until it was your desired shade of purple, pulling back with a satisfied moan.

“Then you need to get the fuck off my lap before I just say fuck this game and make you come all over again…...it’s only been a couple of hours..I know you are still nice and wet for me” Yanking your hair until the sting traveled from your scalp to your core...nipping on the hinge of your jaw. Instantly regretting starting this little game with him..because now you wanted him...really fuckin bad!

“Now back to your game…” bringing his lips over to the side of your neck..tugging the tiny hoop that danced in your ear between his teeth. Letting the metal bar from his piercing dance between your skin and the piercing.

(6) Why do you keep coming back to me?” Pulling back letting his forehead rest against yours “ What do you want from me?”

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

THAT’S ALL SHE WROTE FOR NOW...LOL if you guys want more and you want me to do the other questions spread out over 2 more parts..show this some love and lemme know!

”FINAL NOTE- Hopefully you guys enjoyed my twist on Jimin’s drug dealer backstory! Probably not what you expected, but what would explain his more chill, open personality. As opposed to that stereotypical, angry, passive-aggressive, closed off , gang member facde your use to when dealing with a drug dealer.  His journey to where he is now is a little different than most in his position! For him he wasn’t forced into this...it almost saved him in a way....gave him a sense of purpose...if you will! 

Also, take note that he’s not stupid, he may not be afraid of his emotions but he hasn’t shared anything that could be “Used against him” if you will. Everything that was discussed has been past tense….

SOME upcoming questions

FOR JIMIN

"Have you ever gotten caught/ almost caught/any transactions gone sideways?"

" Is there anything you'd like to do in the future..outside of ”This”? "

"What changed that night that made you finally ask me out?"

"Why do you like to be called "daddy""?

FOR THE OC

"What do you want from me?"

"Do you think you can actually handle all of this? Me going MIA at night..or even out of the state for a couple days.!? Or just knowing I'm not some corporate guy in a suite?"

"What do you actually do for a living"

"Do you feel safe with me? If you get in this deep are you worried about your safety in anyway?"

“When you called me at midnight for that delivery...was it your intention to fuckk me?”

[ordinaryschmuck]

What I thought about Adventure Time: Distant Lands-”BMO”

Salutations random people of the internet who probably won't read this. I am an Ordinary Shmuck. I write stories and reviews and draw comics and cartoons. And today, I'm going to do one-fourth of what I do best by reviewing "BMO": The first hour-long special of Adventure Time: Distant Lands. Seeing how it's been a week since the special premiered, and that most fans saw it by now, I thought I'd share my thoughts on BMO. Keep in mind, if you haven't seen the special yet, you're final warning against spoilers stops here. Because I'll be spoiling the heck out of this special, by listings everything I like, and don't like. Things like characters, plot elements, and little touches that I thought were worth mentioning. Without further ado, let's start this review off by listing-

WHAT I LIKED

The Animation Quality: You know how Steven Universe: The Movie had animation quality that was ten percent better than the original series? That's basically what the animation in “BMO” is like. It's not the smoothest I've ever seen, and probably not the best Adventure Time has ever looked, but it's still pretty good. There's definitely more attention to detail, shading, and lighting to help make “BMO” look more cinematic than the series. There is one issue I have with the animation, though. But I'll get into that with the dislikes. For now, it's safe to say that the animation is still pretty darn good.

BMO (The Character, not the special): What can I say about this little rascal that hasn't been said already? BMO is still his adorable little self, and more so. There are times when his naivety can be kind of annoying, at least to me, but I'm sure BMO fans will love how he's presented in the special. Especially given the fact that this is the most active BMO has been in the entire series. Throughout most of Adventure Time, BMO has primarily been a source for comedy as well as a tool for characters to use. Even in episodes when BMO does save the day, it's either by accident or by him not understanding the situation. In "BMO," the little robot purposefully solves many problems, and fully understands the situation. The special still manages to keep his naivety by having BMO just not completely understanding how serious the problem is. Weirdly the writers found a perfect way to make BMO a more active role while not giving him a different personality. And personally speaking, the writers executed that idea well.

Y-5: This special may be about BMO, but Y-5 is the real star here. Y-5's personality, design, and overall arc as a character was so much fun and downright adorable to see. It was so surprising because I did not expect to like any new character introduced in Distant Lands. I just assumed that any newcomer would divert attention from the main character that the special would focus on. And while Y-5 does do that, I'm ok with it for three reasons. First, BMO is not a good character to work on his own. He actually needs characters that fully know what's going on for the plot to progress. Second, while Y-5 can hijack the story, sometimes, there are still segments that make it clear that "BMO" is about BMO. Third, Y-5 is already an incredible character, so I'm not going to waste time complaining about her inclusion. She plays the perfect straight man to BMO's antics, and it was so endearing to see her grow as a more confident character. So much so, that I actually consider Y-5 as one of my personal favorite characters. Not just in the special, but in the series overall. Also, I’m sure that there’s some symbolism behind her wanting to be called Y-5, but I’m not touching it. Mostly because I have no idea what I’m talking about in that regard.

The Comedy: There's not much to say here. The jokes are all worth a good chuckle but were never funnier than anything in the series as a whole. Except for that hard-cut to the elf looking angry as he drifts off into space. That was pretty hilarious.

The Drift: I love everything about the Drift. From its design to the background characters, and even the backgrounds themselves. Everything about the Drift just screams hard work and dedication from the cast and crew. It's almost as if everyone involved knew this would be the last time they would work on Adventure Time, so they just poured their hearts and souls into it. And given the fact that they worked so hard on the first special, makes me even more excited for the other three.

Martin returns...sort of: Let's be clear: It is understood by everyone that Mr. M is Martin Mertens. He has the same voice actor, the same mannerisms, and even the same body type. However, what I like isn't the fact that Martin returns. What I love is the fact that "BMO" never reveals that it's Martin. I'm sure some fans might be upset about not getting an official reveal, but I personally don't think it matters. Mostly because it doesn't matter to BMO. BMO doesn't know who Martin is, and has very little connection to the scumbag. So making a big reveal that Mr. M is Martin would just be unnecessary. Overall, I'm ok with the fact that the writers had Martin return to be nothing more than a glorified easter egg. Because honestly, it's what he deserved.

Hugo’s backstory: Again, there's nothing much to say here. It's yet another twist reveal about how a character who seems nice turns out to be quite the twat. There are two things worth mention, though. One, Hugo's personality stays the same. Look back at all Disney twist villains who become vastly different characters before and after the big twist. Compared to Hugo, he seems like a twist villain done right. Once you figured out that Mr. M is Martin, it should be pretty clear that Hugo's not a saint to be partnered up with the guy. Plus, when it's revealed Hugo really is, he still keeps up this charming persona that he uses around people...up until he ditches them like a twit. Another thing worth mentioning is the animation used for the flashback. Dedicated fans might remember that it was the same style used for "Water Park Prank," which might be the worst episode of the series. So it's nice to see the art style used for something good rather than something...not as good.

The solution to “save” the Drift: Most people use the special as an allegory for climate change. Which is why I put "save" in air-quotes because the citizens didn't really save anything. Similar to how we all play our part to save our planet. What the citizens do, though, is come up with solutions that might work as long as they have hope. And I. Freaking. LOVE that! The lesson that "BMO" is trying to teach is incredibly important, both to children and especially to adults. It's so easy to assume that the best solution is to abandon once it gets too hard and take the easy way out. Same as how some people believe it's better to just abandon this planet we call home, rather than put in the work to save it. And to those people: Let me ask you a question. Do you really think that you'll shoot off into space with the people planning to colonize another planet? Or do you think that those people are going to be like Hugo, who will only take along close friends and the rich? Personally, I think it's more likely going to be the latter. Which is why I adore the lesson being taught in "BMO." It might be hard to save the planet at this point, but it's still worth doing. And I can hope everyone else will come to agree with that conclusion.

WHAT I DISLIKED

Olive: I feel bad for saying I don't like Olive because the truth is that I'm more indifferent to them. To me, Olive feels less like a character and more like a plot device. This is because Olive has little to no personality, and all they do nothing but be something that furthers the plot. Although, I do like how Olive can stretch, as well as how they are overprotective over BMO. Other than that, there's not much to work off of.

Inconsistency with Character Designs: This was the problem I had with the animation. At times, characters are pretty inconsistent with how they're drawn. Some scenes, Y-5's eyes are large and cute, and other times they're normal-sized. There also times when BMO's height and width can be pretty inconsistent with what scene he's in. Now to be fair, this is nothing new to Adventure Time. It's a problem that the show has had for quite some time, and fans have come to accept it. However, just because you accept a problem doesn't make it any less of a problem. If anything, it makes it worse because the showrunners still refuse to fix it.

KS-2: Is it weird that the best character in "BMO" is the daughter of the worst character? Because to me, I don't understand how someone as amazing as Y-5 came from someone so rotten as KS-2. To be fair, I get what the writers were going for. They wanted to make a mother who was just another adult that "just doesn't understand." I can see that, but the problem is that the writers went too far with the idea. The way that KS-2 just constantly berates Y-5, as well as refusing to listen, comes off as too cruel. And the fact that the father pointed out how KS-2 never said the words "Y-5 was right," does nothing more than add fuel to the fire. But what's tricky is for all I know, this could have been the intention. And if it's true that the writers wanted to make KS-2 so unlikeable, then they more than succeeded. Although, I will give the crew credit for subverting gender norms by making KS-2 buff and the dad scrawny. I just wish that good intention was put into a good character.

The first chase scene in the Jungle Pod: This is mostly a nitpick, but it's still something that bothers me. Because having BMO getting chased away from his radio, to then have him end back where he originally was, felt like padding to me. Because why else would you have BMO go through all of that danger, only to have him end up at square one. Maybe the writers included the scene to build tension, but even if that's true, there could have been a better way to do it. Like while BMO's being chased, he somehow gets closer to his goal, rather than end up in a loop. And if the scene really was just for padding, then pad that time with literally anything else. Like maybe use the time to show KS-2's gentle side, or doing more to tease Hugo's true self. I know it would only be a few minutes, but actually make those minutes count for something. 

It’s a Prequel?: After my initial viewing, my reaction to the ending was, "Oh, BMO found Finn and Jake's descendants." Then when actual smart people pointed out that "BMO" was a prequel, my reaction became "Oh, that makes way more sense." But then I started thinking about the fact that the special was a prequel, and the more I thought about it, the more holes I found. Or, at least, two holes that I found. First off, why does BMO have a heroic nature in this special? At first, I thought that maybe the years living with Finn and Jake taught BMO how to be a hero, but BMO hasn't met Finn yet. So I guess BMO felt like a heroic personality the entire time? Even though he never acted like this before in the series, unless he thought he was playing a game? Another thing I noticed is Martin's line about kids calling out their deadbeat parents. Why would he say that? Martin hasn't met Finn yet, either. Therefore Martin doesn't have the experience of being called a deadbeat parent. So does this mean that Martin has other children in the universe who calls him out on his crap? Or is it most likely that the writers wanted to give another clue that Mr. M was Martin, but briefly forgot the series timeline? I think it's most likely the latter, even though the former sounds way more interesting. And before people want to kill me because they actually love the story being a prequel, I want to point out, this is another nitpick. The fact that "BMO" is a prequel doesn't bother me too much, but I still can't help but feel confused when thinking about it.

As a whole, I give “BMO” an A-. BMO is as adorable as ever, Y-5 is an astounding character, I love the moral that the special is trying to teach, and the entire thing just screams effort. Is it perfect? No. Does it have problems? Yes, but not anything that makes me think the special was unwatchable. I enjoyed it, and something tells me that if you're an Adventure Time fan, you enjoy it too. "BMO" was a great introduction to Distant Lands, and here's hoping the other specials will be even better.

(And here’s also hoping that “Obsidian” will deliver that sweet, sweet Bubbline goodness that fans have been demanding for years.)

[fanficsandfluff]

Emotions Get the Better (3)

So, writing these reader insert fics is hard for one reason: POV. I don’t want to make the writing look sloppy by constantly switching over POVs, but there are so many times where I wanna express Arthur’s thoughts as opposed to the reader’s. So I tried it out in this part. Please let me know if it was too confusing or hard to understand. 

~~~~

You dealt with your boss when you got home that night you dropped Arthur off at his home. He knew you were a loyal employee so he wasn’t overly upset. So you made sure to get to work early the next few days just to make it up to him. On your walk from the train to the theater, there was no sign of Arthur. You hoped he was healing and resting. Still, you couldn’t help but look down the alley where you found him last time, just in case. 

Finally, it was a Thursday night. You didn’t have work all day. You and some friends were meeting up for dinner and then you planned on going over to Pogo’s comedy club downtown; well, more downtown than where you lived. The comedians there were usually pretty funny, especially after you’ve had a few drinks. 

After a pretty fatty and delicious dinner, you and two other girlfriends made your way to Pogo’s. The first comedian of the night was halfway through his act and you all were seated at a table by the bar. You ordered all your friends a round of tequila shots to start off. 

One of your friends was finishing up a story that was way funnier than anything the comedian was saying at the moment, so the three of you laughed uproariously, enough to turn some audience members’ heads. 

Arthur had been watching the stand-up in relative silence, since the crowd around him was dull and wasn’t fueling any real reaction from him. Then there was a sudden burst of laughter from behind him that apparently not only didn’t make sense to him but to many people around him as heads turned. He sought for the source of the laughter and his eyes landed on a table of a group of three women. Even in the dim light, he recognized a face at the table. He hardly had to think before he stood up and approached the table. 

As your giggles died down, someone approached the table and stood right in front of you, blocking any view of the comedian struggling to get through his set on stage. You looked up in the dimly lit area of the club and saw a man, smiling face looking directly at you.

“Hi, Y/N,” he said your name. 

You studied him for an extra second, and you gasped the minute you figured it out, “Arthur?”

“Yeahah,” he chuckled, happy you remembered him.

“Hi! Nice to see your real face,” you smiled at him. 

“Well, you said we have to stop meeting when I’m dressed up, so I guess I delivered.”

You nodded, still smiling, the booze in you already making images slightly fuzzy, “Mmhm. You did. Oh, these are my friends, Emma and Sam. Do you wanna sit with us, or--?”

“No. No, I have my own table. I just wanted to say hi,” Arthur said. 

He wanted to say she looked beautiful, but those bold words were far from his tongue at this moment in time. He could only think it.

“Well, thanks for saying hi,” you said, giving him a wave as he returned to his table. Once he was safely seated at his table towards the stage, you turned to your friends, “So, that was the guy I told you about. The clown.”

“Jesus Christ! That was him?”

“Kinda cliché for a clown to go to a comedy club, no? You think he’s stealing material for himself?”

You rolled your eyes and watched as the first comedian of the night stepped off the stage and handed it off to the next, “You never know. I mean, he told me he was a comedian.”

“So I was right. He’s borrowing jokes for his own act.”

You sipped at your martini and immediately laughed at the new comedian’s first joke. He was already a much better presence than the first guy, and the whole audience could agree. 

This guy was really on fire. Joke after joke he was having the crowd roaring. A few minutes into his set, in the lull between setup and punchline, there was an extremely high-pitched yowl of a cackle. It came from in front of you. 

You couldn’t identify where the sound came from until the next joke. Same thing happened. Silence and then that laugh. You saw Arthur and your eyes were now drawn to him. 

You could see he was scribbling into a notebook in front of him. Hm, you guessed Sam was right about the taking jokes part. And when he looked up, he wasn’t so much focused in on the comedian as he was nervously glancing around at the people around him. It was like he was waiting for their reactions to the jokes. And then he laughed. You were completely fascinated by this behavior by this point that the comedian’s jokes were basically drowned out by your own laser focus on when Arthur would choose to laugh. Was he making a statement of his own by not laughing at the right parts? You could only wonder. 

“So, I took my car into the shop the other day...”

Laugh.

“There was this mean looking guy, I’m talking mean...”

Laugh.

“And when we opened the window...”

Laugh.

You snorted at that last one. The more you focused on Arthur laughing, the more it was dawning on you how out of place they were, making them all the more funny. Then again, it could’ve also just been the alcohol. But shit, you were surprised no one else had started to laugh along with Arthur, I mean, his laugh was so contagious. 

“We’re road tripping all over the midwest, you know? South Dakota, Oklahoma...”

Laugh.

And this time, you laughed a half second after Arthur’s laugh pierced the silence. It was just too funny to you. The guy had a great laugh. And thinking of the punchline as being “Oklahoma” made it all the more random and funny to you.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” your friend asked you, looking at you like you were crazy.

“Wahahait, wait, you gotta listen to him,” you pointed at the out-of-makeup clown, “It’s the funniest shit I’ve experienced in a long time.”

The next joke was delivered in full, but Arthur didn’t laugh. He was busy writing. But the next one he was right back in the swing of things. 

You waited for your friends’ reaction as you found yourself laughing again. And even after the next one, you were holding your stomach, your laugh coming out in wheezes by this point. You were starting to feel lightheaded.

“You belong with him, you know that?” your other friend rolled her eyes, grinning at her own joke. 

Arthur was focused on what made his jokes so funny. This wasn’t a new struggle for him, but here he was again, trying his hardest. But what was different about this outing to Pogo’s than any other was that he was actually hearing someone laugh when he laughed. He slowly turned in his seat to see who is maybe on his side, who feels as disconnected as he does. To his surprise, and pleasure, it was Y/N. He smiled brightly, seeing her laughing to herself at this point, her friends shoving her and telling her to shut up. It was all somehow very charming. Best of all, Arthur could tell she had a fantastic laugh. 

The night went on, and your friends decided for you that you had enough to drink, even though you knew you could pack away a few more. You eventually settled to be boring and normal like everyone else and laugh at the right punchlines. Still, your eyes flicked to Arthur when he’d get a joke that no one else on the planet would’ve understood. 

The last act of the night finished up and audience members started to clear out of the comedy club. You yawned and stood, stretching. You threw your coat over your shoulders and walked out with your friends, bidding goodbye to them right outside the club since you all lived in different directions and had to split up. 

You remained at the corner, inhaling the chill Gotham night air. The club was feeling a bit stuffy to you, so you wanted to enjoy the ‘fresh’ air before heading into another stuffy subway car, sure to smell of piss and burnt rubber. 

“Did you like the show?”

You were startled for a second, not expecting a voice to speak that close to you. You looked Arthur in the eyes and smiled, “Yeah, I had a great night. Partly because of you.”

“I heard you,” he smiled back at you, seeming giddy to the point of bursting.

You blushed but still grinned, trying to keep some dignity, “I don’t doubt it, I’ve always had an obnoxious laugh. A lot of things about me are actually obnoxious--”

“I don’t think obnoxious is the right word. You sounded truly happy.”

You nodded, “Well, I was. When I’m a little happy, I’m usually all the way happy. When I’m a little sad, I’m all the way sad. Does that make sense?”

Arthur tilted his head, his eyes seemed to be scanning your whole face, “It kinda does, yeah.”

You pulled your coat tighter around yourself. You shared a silence together before you snorted in thought, “Can I ask you why you were laughing like that? At the parts that weren’t the punchline?” you asked with genuine curiosity, really wanting to know the answer.

Arthur paused and his face fell. He didn’t know how to explain himself. You could tell he didn’t want to answer that, so you let it go.

“Well, I’m gonna start heading home. It was--”

“Do you want to get something to eat?” he asked. 

“That’s... That’s a nice offer, but I actually had dinner already and the drinks I’ve had probably mean I should turn in for the night.”

“We can just go for coffee or a donut,” Arthur pressed more. You just noticed he was holding that notebook he was writing in, as he squeezed it in his hands. You looked into his eyes and you had to admit there was something in them that was very welcoming. Maybe that’s what kept you interested in him. 

“Sure. I can do that,” you said to him and you saw his face light up in relief and happiness. 

“I know a place,” he said and started to cross the street. 

And you followed him and his surprisingly quick yet languid pace. Coffee with a clown. That could be the title of your memoir, you thought. You grinned to yourself and kept up with Arthur. 

[mistydacat]

Cursed || A Felinette Story || Chapter 1

Who would've thought that a seemingly ordinary Thursday afternoon, a letter would arrive in the mail that would change their life?

Marinette sure didn't.

So she was surprised when her parents called her down from her room, claiming that a letter had arrived in the mail for her.

At first, she was confused. It couldn't be from any of her friends; they could just text her. Who would send her a letter?

It must be something super important. Marinette thought to herself. People were only sent letters these days if it was an invitation to some sort of fancy event. Though, she supposed schools sent out letters sometimes as well.

Marinette tried to rack her brain for anything she could have done that would have been worth sending a letter home for, but came up with nothing. Maybe Lila had come up with another lie to get her into trouble again? However, she hadn't been in school for a while, so that didn't make sense.

But one look at her parents' faces destroyed that theory, much to her relief. They were smiling at her.

So now, she was back to confused. Instead of further dwelling on it and jumping to conclusions, like she usually did, Marinette decided to just ask.

"A letter? Who is it from?"

"Do you know that art school that's not too far from here? Lycée D'Arts en Hausse?" Her mother asked.

"Yeah?" Marinette responded, unsure of where this was going.

Her dad handed her the letter with her name printed on it. A similar envelope lay on the counter, opened. She could just make out her parents' names on it from where she was standing.

She opened up hers and began reading. 

Miss Marinette Dupain-Cheng,

We, Lycée D'Arts en Hausse's talent scouts, have found the exceptional work you have done as a designer. We have seen the world-renowned rock star, Jagged Stone's new album cover, and the Pigeon Feather hat you skillfully created for a recent Gabriel fashion show. We have unanimously agreed that your talent is something we would happily accept at this school.

Attached to this letter is a pamphlet that features some of the many things Lycee D'Arts en Hausse offers to its design students.

If you think that this school is fit for you, you can send an email to lyceedartsenhausse@gedsb.fr so we can book you an interview and start the school transferring process.

Sincerely,

Lycée D'Arts en Hausse

Marinette jaw dropped.

"No way," she breathed out, looking wide-eyed at her parents.

"It's your choice if you go or not, of course. I know you'll probably miss your friends, but you can always meet up with them on weekends and after school. You could even arrange to spend your lunch hour with them if you'd really like to," her mother said, offering her a comforting smile.

"This could be an excellent opportunity for you to get a head start in the fashion industry." Her father butted in.

Marinette, still in shock, could only nod at her parents. She was still trying to process what was happening. 

She weighed the pros and cons. On the plus side, her dad was right, this would be a great opportunity. She could go to class with other young designers like her and have a professional teacher. She would probably learn things that she wouldn't have been able to teach herself!

But, on the downside, she was moving to a new school. At her new school, she could get away from Chloe and Lila, although they don't really bother her as much as they used to. She didn't know anyone there, and, unlike what would happen if she transferred at the beginning of the year, she would be the only new student. People had already established their friend groups. What if no one wanted to talk to her? Or worse, what if there was someone ever more awful than Chloe and Lila? What would she do then?

"Marinette?"

Marinette blinked back into reality, created by her parents' worried faces.

"Sorry, I'm just... taking it all in, I guess."

Their expressions relaxed. "You can take a few days to think it over if you'd like. This is a big decision." Her mother comforted.

"Thanks, Maman. Thanks, Papa." She kissed both her parents' cheeks. "I love you both so much."

"We love you too, sweetie." Her mother smiled.

»»————- ⚜ ————-««

Marinette went up to her room. She felt that she needed to ask Tikki for her opinion, then she would video call Alya and ask for her advice.

"I'm so happy for you, Marinette!" Tikki beamed.

"Do you think I should go?" Marinette asked her.

"It would be a pretty significant change for you, but not necessarily a bad one! Think of all the new experiences you'll go through!" The kwami of creation cheered.

Marinette sighed. "I don't know. I guess I'm just..."

"Nervous?" Tikki finished for her.

She nodded.

"You have to go through changes in your life, Marinette. It's inevitable. But it makes you a stronger person." Tikki assured her.

"You're right." The young designer smiled at her. "I'm still gonna call Alya and ask for her opinion, though."

Tikki nodded. "Go ahead!"

Marinette unlocked her phone and texted Alya.

ThatOneDesigner: Hey, I need to talk to you about this super important thing.

Alya responded quickly.

ThatOneLadyblogger:???

ThatOneLadyblogger: What is it??????

ThatOneDesigner: Can I call you?

ThatOneDesigner: Sure.

Marinette hit the call button and watched as Alya's face filled the screen after she accepted.

"Hey girl, what's up?" Asked Alya.

"So... I don't know how to say this, but..." Marinette started.

"But what?"

"There's this super awesome arts school that liked my work and offered me a spot there in design!" She blurted out quickly.

Alya gasped. "Oh my gosh, Girl! That's so awesome! I'm super excited for you! Did you respond to them yet? Do you know when you're gonna start? I'm soo jealous! Oh my gosh, tell me everything!"

Marinette smiled at her best friend's reaction. How could she ever have thought she would react otherwise?

She quickly filled Alya in on all the details she knew of.

"-So, I called you to ask for your opinion." Marinette finished.

"Girl, there is no way I am letting you pass up this opportunity! Do you really have a reason not to go?" Alya told her.

Marinette pursed her lips. "Well, I was scared of what you'd think. I didn't want it to seem like I was abandoning you."

Alya let out a fake gasp. "How dare you think so lowly of me!" She yelled dramatically, striking a classic 'woe-is-me' pose. "What kind of best friend would I be if I wasn't extremely over-supportive of you going to this school? Marinette, you should be ashamed! Ashamed, I tell you!"

Both girls simultaneously burst into a fit of giggles, which then erupted into roaring laughter. They didn't stop until they were struggling to breathe, tears forming in the corners of their eyes.

Things always seemed a hundred times funnier when they came out of the mouths of your best friends.

"You know what would totally be awesome?" Alya began after (mostly) recovering from their laugh attack. "You should definitely introduce me, Nino, and Adrien to any new friends you make at your school. That way, we could have one giant friend group! Also, I'll need to run a background check and approve of all your new friends. I don't want you to befriend anyone that could potentially hurt you."

Marinette laughed. "Alya, I don't even know if I'll make any new friends."

"There is no way anyone could meet you and not instantly want to be your best friend. Literally, our whole class loves you, except Chloe, but I don't think she loves anybody. You'll make tons of new friends."

"Alya, you know what? I think I'm gonna go."

Alya squealed. "I knew I could convince you! But you have to call us every day and have lunch with us at least once a week. Also, if you're not busy, we have to meet up on weekends."

Marinette rolled her eyes playfully. "Obviously. Those are all given."

"I can't believe you're gonna go to a fancy art school!"

"Why do I feel like you're more excited about this than I am?" Marinette teased. 

"That's because I am. Overly-supportive best friend, remember?"

Marinette laughed again. Talking to Alya had really hyped her up for the move.

"I've gotta go help my mom with some stuff. See you tomorrow?"

Marinette nodded, giving her friend a little wave. "Bye!"

"Byeeee!" Alya blew a kiss at the screen, then hung up.

»»————- ⚜ ————-««

The next few days went by rather quickly. Marinette had come home from school on Friday and told her parents that she had made her decision. The next thing she did was send an email to the school telling them that she was interested in enrolling. They sent their response back rather quickly and scheduled an appointment for her, which she attended a few days later.

They mostly just gave her a tour of the building and introduced her to some potential teachers. She met the principal, Mme. Ambroise, who had seemed to be a very kind woman who genuinely cared for each one of her students.

A week later was her last day at her current school, Collège Françoise Dupont, and boy was it emotional. 

Her classmates gathered around her, offering their goodbyes and wishing her good luck. Some have even brought gifts. Rose had handed her friendship bracelet with her name on it, and a quick glance showed that the entire girl squad had one as well.

Mylene, Rose, Juleka, and Ivan had also gotten Luka to help them make her a song that she downloaded and vowed to listen to on her first day. Nino had also made a few remixes of it, so she had a variety.

Nathanial had drawn a portrait of her as a half-phoenix, to represent rebirth and starting over.

Alya had gotten her a set of brand new charcoal pencils, and Adrien had gotten her the prettiest sketchbook she had ever seen. It had the Eiffel Tower on it, which he said was because he had heard her say it inspired her. He and Alya had thought that since she would be starting at a new school, she should have some new supplies to really start off fresh. 

The gifts really touched her heart, and when it was time to hug everyone and say their last goodbyes, half the class was almost in tears.

»»————- ⚜ ————-««

Marinette was very tempted to collapse onto her bed the second she got home and contemplate her entire life, but she needed to get her things ready for the next day.

She emptied her backpack of all the workbooks and papers from her old school, but then she decided to dump everything else out so she could clean her bag. There were a lot of crumpled up papers and even if you stray pencils.

Once she was done, she put in her pencil case and a few other supplies, along with the new sketchbook and pencils she had gotten.

When Marinette was done, she realized how much spare time she had since she didn't have any homework to do, and decided to clean her room. Tomorrow was a new beginning, why not start off with a tidy bedroom?

She cleaned up and put away some stray fabrics, yarn, and thread. She also took the time to hang up the art Nathanial had given her.

Marinette stared at her walls, hesitating. Should she take the pictures of Adrien down? 

This was supposed to be the start of a new era for her, right? Adrien didn't seem to have returned any of her affections, so maybe she should move on?

No, what was she thinking!? Just because she was moving to a new school doesn't mean she was giving up!

But at the same time, what if she met someone else? Adrien was clearly uninterested, maybe she was thinking these thoughts because she had already partially moved on. She had even gotten over her stutter. 

Marinette's hand hovered over one of the pictures, then she shook her head. She would just wait and see if her feelings changed the next time she saw him.

»»————- ⚜ ————-««

Marinette spent the rest of her day helping her parents in the bakery and working on a leather skirt. She didn't usually work with leather, as it was one of the more finicky materials to sew, so she was getting some practice in.

Marinette went to sleep early that night, grateful that Hawkmoth had decided not to release an akuma that night. She hoped that maybe tomorrow she'd actually get to school on time. »»————- ⚜ ————-«« 

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