#carrying vintage toys in his pockets

[anotherdescentintomadness]

Wang YiBo X Young Chic (2019):

A Retro Curio Aesthetic

[m-jelly]

DIY Daddy

Levi x fem!reader

Modern AU, Dad Levi, fluff, romance, girl dad, DIY job, married, pregnant reader, small town life.

Levi and you run a DIY company where you clean, repair, decorate and move things for people. Levi and you take your little three-year-old daughter Lilly to a job because she wants to help the two of you out instead of going to grandma's.

@ladycheesington @levisbrat25 @nyxiieluna @li-anne @galactict3a @youre-ackermine @thebobaprincess @2moth-anon2 @cypidity @nbinairyn @bts-spnlvr12 @darkstarlight82 @emilyyyy-08 @notgoodforlife @demonic-bird @searriously

You walked over to Lilly and cleaned her face after she finished eating. "Those pancakes okay?"

Lilly grinned. "Yummy mummy! Thank you."

You kissed the top of her head. "You're welcome."

Levi chuckled when Lilly reached over and held his hand stopping him from turning the page of the plans for the current home he was working on. "What's up, Lilly bug?"

She bounced in her seat. "Daddy, may I have a hug?"

He picked her up and out of her seat then sat her on his lap. "Of course." He hugged her tightly. "You can get all the cuddles you want."

She looked over at you. "Mummy?"

You hummed as you sipped your tea. "Yes, little Lilly love?"

She sucked on her bottom lip a little. "May I help today?"

You looked over at her. "You want to come with Daddy and me today?"

"Yes please!"

You gazed at your husband. "Up to you honey, what's on the job list?"

Levi looked at his wide-eyed daughter and smiled. "Well, I do need our super duper painter today and an assistant."

Lilly gasped. "I can help!"

Levi laughed. "Well then, I think we can take you with us."

You tapped away on your phone. "I have texted Kuchel to let her know."

"Thanks, bunny."

You smirked at the pet name. "You're welcome." You winked at him and then gazed at your daughter. "Do you want Daddy to help you change?"

Lilly nodded. "Please!"

Levi stood up and carried his daughter to her room. "Let's go!" He popped her on her little feet as she giggled. "What would you like to wear today?"

"Same as Mummy!"

He smiled and grabbed a shirt with bunnies on and some dungarees. "Your Mummy will wear something like this. She always wears dungarees." He picked a pair of socks for her. "Here you go, little Lilly bug. I'll do your hair after."

She huffed as she pulled on her shirt, but then struggled with the dungarees. "Daddy, help."

He knelt in front of her and did the clips. "There you go. You even have a pocket at the front for snacks or a little cuddly toy. Mummy puts snacks in hers. What do you want in yours?"

She hummed in thought. "Bunny!"

He grabbed her little bunny and put it in the front pocket. "There, you can work together." He combed her hair and tied it up on top of her head making him chuckle, it looked like a pineapple top. "Perfect. Lastly is socks, do you need help?"

She sat on the floor and wiggled her little feet. "Please."

He slipped on her pretty socks and smiled. "All sorted, the little beans are safe."

She clapped her little hands. "Beans!"

The two of them hurried over to you as you waited by the front door. You all wore your work shoes and climbed into Levi's vintage pickup truck. All three of you sang along to songs playing on the radio causing a lot of laughter and smiles.

Once you'd arrived, Levi spoke to the shop owner to let them know that Lilly was with him and if it was okay. After getting a very happy and excited yes, the two of you introduced Lilly to the shop owner. The owner told Lilly what she wanted done to her shop and asked if Lilly could do it all.

Lilly gasped. "I can do it!"

The lady giggled. "Wonderful, thank you so much. I will happily pay you in ice cream or cookies."

Lilly grinned. "Thank you!"

You watched Levi and Lilly run inside the building. "Thank you so much. She was so excited about helping today."

The owner watched fondly as Lilly carried in small tools for Levi as Levi carried in a large number of things. "It makes it more meaningful knowing a whole family made my dream shop a reality. I can't wait to come back later and see it. You Ackerman's are so talented and incredible. This town is lucky to have you."

You welled up and hugged her. "Thank you."

As soon as you went inside you were overwhelmed with how cute Levi and your daughter were. The radio was on and the two of them were dancing and singing together as he started setting up the room for painting. Lilly was holding onto the tap as Levi was putting everything in place.

You had to take things easy because you'd recently found out you were pregnant. Levi and Lilly wanted you to relax more, so you were going to do as they said. You opened paint cans, poured paint into the right trays, and set up the tools.

Lilly walked over to the paint and picked up a roller. "May I?"

You smiled at her. "Ask Daddy."

"Daddy?"

Levi picked up Lilly making her squeal with laughter. "Let's do this!" He smiled when you held up the paint tray. "Thank you, Bunny. Now Lilly, roll the roller in the paint."

She kicked her little legs as she did. "Got it!"

He carried her to the wall. "Now roll up and down on the wall."

She squealed in delight. "I'm painting!"

Levi kissed her puffy cheek. "You are. You're a natural."

"Like Mummy?"

"Yes, like Mummy."

Lilly moved the roller up and down. "I did it!"

Levi moved her over to you. "Again, little Lilly pad."

You hummed a laugh as the two worked together to paint the wall. After some time, Levi had to put Lilly down because he needed to be careful and he has to speed up. While he was working, you were getting Lilly to help you put together some furniture. You would tell her what to hand you and she would give it to you.

When a few hours passed, Lilly stopped working and whined. You smiled at her. "What's going on little one?"

She rubbed her eyes and hiccuped a little. "Tired." She crawled over to you and flopped on your lap. "Mummyyy."

You wrapped your arms around her and held her. "I got you. I think it's time for a break."

Levi had made massive progress, so a rest was okay to have. He walked over and lay on the floor next to you. "Let's rest together."

You lay back with Lilly and cuddled up to Levi. "Naptime."

Levi watched Lilly and saw she fell asleep quickly. "Cute."

You played with her hair. "She's had a busy day."

"She has." He looked deep into your eyes. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm okay, a bit tired as well."

He leaned over and kissed you. "Rest as much as you need to, okay?"

You hummed. "I will. How are you feeling?"

"You know me, my bunny, I feel great because I have you and Lilly with me." He reached over and held your hand. "And our little cute bun growing."

You giggled. "You're right."

He moved your hand to his lips and showered it with kisses. "I love you."

"Love you always."

[mintywolf]

A Long Road Home - Page 80 Author's Notes

Page 80

This was one of my favorite pages in the script. :)

It was inspired by two actual events — the first is the origin story of the real-life Calamari (whose real name is Baby), whom I found like 15 years ago at a tiny, cluttered, wonderful shop in Charlottesville, VA that sold exclusively cat-themed items. I dearly hope it’s still there. On one of the shelves were 3 or 4 of these cute little cat plushies, one of them wearing a sticker with “$4 as-is” written on it. When I picked her up I realized that they had meowing voice boxes in them but this one was broken and then I had to give her a home. (I had an OC at the time with selective mutism so it felt particularly fitting. She is the perfect size for a pocket.)

(That's her on the left with some friends.)

So I’ve had this character detail in my head for years — the idea of someone finding a broken, silent toy cat in a shop and loving it even more for its brokenness and afraid that if they don’t buy it, no one else will and it will sit unloved on the shelf forever — waiting for the right situation and character to write it for. And it’s Laudna! Of course it’s Laudna!!

The other is a family story and one of my favorite examples of the tendency of the English language to confound even its native speakers.

Some of our relatives from Ireland were traveling in Alabama and driving behind a guy carrying a load of gravel in the back of his pickup truck. A chunk of it flew off and hit the windshield of their car, cracking it. They flagged the guy down and got him to pull over to discuss the problem.

“Excuse me, but a bit of rubble fell off your lorry and cracked our windscreen.”

In response they received a blank stare and a puzzled drawl of, “Whuut?”

“A bit of rubble fell off your lorry and cracked our windscreen!”

Eventually they managed to get that mess sorted out and went to an auto repair place to get the windshield fixed. As they were leaving, the clerk amiably called out a typical Southern goodbye, “Y’all come back now, y’hear?”

So they of course turned around and went back.

Other details on this page include vintage-style advertisements (genuinely one of my favorite genres of art) for Zenotha’s Throat Elixir,* tuskpaste for orcs, Eisfuura air mail, whatever the Exandrian equivalent of Coca-Cola is with a polar owlbear mascot, handy haversacks, and immovable rods.

* This was mentioned in the previous chapter, where it was out of stock. It was meant to evoke dubious Victorian-era patent medicines which often carried the name of a real or fictitious creator to lend them an air of authority. Because I was pressed for time owing to the ELABORATENESS of this page, the poster child is unused art of one of my Elder Scrolls Online characters. Her real name is Peaches Sweet-Whiskers but I’d always imagined the unseen Zenotha to be a Katari and used the UESP page on Khajiit naming conventions as inspiration for naming her.

[rcreveal]

The Trouble with a Keen Manager

A canon typical story set in the early 1990s just barely pre-Anti Christ S1 where Crowley loses most of his powers and needs help from new friends and old while he fights to regain his old power and autonomy...and just not to get discorporated! Banter, humor, drama, pining. Ch 1 of 22: This one is finished, so I won't leave you hanging, too long. Psst-Crowley in a kilt most of the story...

Chapter 1:

Aziraphale puttered about his bookshop dusting the stacks and looking over at the door from time to time. Drifting past his desk, he glanced at a book seller’s catalog laying open with colored ribbons marking his new purchases. Humming to himself happily, the angel’s fingers hovered over one of his most anticipated new selections.  Then he shook his head and set himself off to reorganize the Jane Austen.  Every time a new movie or television adaptation came out he had to guard his first editions from the depredations of the book buyers!

Oh he just couldn't wait!

Recently…

Crowley toyed with a self-addressed order postcard of the kind that might be “blown in” to a magazine or journal.  The kind of postcard that was an advert for double glazing, questionable self-care products, guaranteed cubic zirconia jewelry, and books not yet available in local shops.   They’d fall like raining frogs out of the magazine of the poor soul that just wanted to pilfer a little look at an article without buying the whole magazine AND they were each little temptations!  It’d been wicked fun suggesting ‘blow ins’ to the advertising blokes.  The little irritation to millions of people forced to wrestle with scooping up the pieces of paper or being inveigled to litter was a bonus for his reports.  Sometimes he’d sit across from a magazine stand just to watch it.  

Crowley had been sitting on a bench across from a magazine stand smiling to himself as the blow ins fluttered down, seeing the familiar crease between the brows and shuffled stooping and swatting for the little cards.  They even got away from people purchasing a magazine.  Littering thus tarnishing an otherwise upright citizen.  The rather excitable university student with the baggy jumper over baggy non-descript pants hadn’t noticed the card falling out when she’d stuffed the magazine into her bag.  From over the road it looked like she was taking home a deadly dry scientific journal of some sort.  During a lull in shoppers, Crowley had poured himself up from the bench and sauntered over to see what adverts had added to the litter on the city street, grinning to himself as he riffled the debris with his pointy toed shoe.  It was another bad day for double glazing!   Leaning over to see what sort of advert could possibly be in that dry old magazine, his fingers closed over the little bit of cardstock he’d marked falling from the student’s bag.

Flipping the little card over, he’d let out a ‘huh’ as he read the advertisement over the top of his sunglasses to better see the colored picture, looking more like a middle aged man who’d eschewed his readers than a debonair demon.  Pocketing the card, he wondered if he might just find a copy there…where had they moved now?  Oh, right, Carlton House Terrace, he turned to cross St James Park.  He could do with a brandy and they still had a clubroom there, surely.

Well that was a disappointment.

The tea room choices weren’t exactly what he’d remembered from the Royal Society, but the zip and tingle of all the thinking going on in the building was headier than most vintages as he meandered through the public exhibits.

“Pardon me, but would you carry this book?” Crowley asked the young man at the Royal Society book shop, flipping the card in front of his nose.

The fellow peered at the little card in Crowley’s hand and a smile broke over his face.  “Oh, I am so excited to see this one, sir!  Can’t wait to get my hands on it!”

“So, you don’t have a copy here?” drawled Crowley.

“Nooo, sir, that’s an American publication.  I don't know when we’ll get a copy.  You could ask your local bookseller to order one for you, if you don't want to wait,” the young fellow added helpfully.

A slight grimace on his face, Crowley pocketed the card again, “Thanks anyway,” waving a couple of fingers at the building,  “Like what you’ve done with the place,” Crowley sauntered away affecting nonchalance.

But the demon was thinking, ‘Yeah, he might, but…nah, not worth the risk.’ Crowley had rarely asked for anything from him outside the bounds of the Arrangement, and the business with the holy water made him even less likely to expose himself like that again even on a much smaller scale. Definitely not right now.  There were other ways.

The advert marred the perfect black austerity of Crowley’s huge desk.  It was a temptation, so that should be alright, plausible deniability and the like.  Pity Crowley was currently the focus of the temptation.  Worse, he could feel the laconic eye of the Pit on him more often these days.  Someone seemed to be going through a keen phase, so he’d been toeing the line more than he liked lately.  Made more difficult by some of the recent administrative changes.

Running his thin fingers over the address side of the card, Crowley pushed the card away and strove not to look at it.  Failing that, grumbling in the back of his throat, Crowley flipped the card over and let his eyes rangehungrily over the advert.  Holding the card up to eye level he looked at a red and yellow swirl on a deep black background and ground his teeth.  

A fruitless day of calling booksellers found that no one was planning on getting a copy of the book he wanted anytime soon.  Most had asked if he had inquired at the Royal Society.  

As he worked through the Book Sellers listed in the Yellow Pages from A to Zed (skipping the first shop listed under A, of course) some of the older shop owners started to offer ‘helpful’ suggestions.

“If it’s an unusual book that you’re after, you should check out A. Z. Fell’s in Soho.”

“You know, that Mr Fell gets books from across the pond pretty frequently,” another offered. 

“Mr Fell has connections for discerning patrons like yourself.  I can give you his number, if you like.”

After a few more exchanges like this, Crowley’s frustration was rising, as was his speculation that ‘Mr. Fell’ might not have always been entirely above board with his book collection.  With rising spirits, Crowley imagined the ‘dangerous’ ideas hidden in books and pamphlets banned over the years now lying in wait in the dusty corners of the book-hoarder’s shop to spring upon some unsuspecting mind.

Finally accepting that no bookseller in London was getting the book any time soon, he dialed the angel’s phone number by memory.  But he still had to figure out a way to get the book without letting his traditional adversary know it was for him.

***

Aziraphale strolled into St James park with interest piqued, just stopping to pick up a bag of breadcrumbs before making his way to the lean figure of Crowley who stood over by the pond with hands deep in pockets staring at the ducks.  Walking up to the duck pond some way away from the demon, Aziraphale started feeding the ducks and by pure happenstance, I assure you! drifted down to stand next to Crowley.

Without looking at him, Aziraphale murmured, “It’s been a while!  How’ve you been keeping?” politely, but a little cooly.  The angel had not cared for finding his home city surrounded by the dread sigil odegra.  Aziraphale didn’t much care for motorways in the first place, (too fast) but he suspected that Crowley might have had something to do with the M25 turning into an evil prayer wheel.

Making a sour face, Crowley replied, “Nnggh, gotta new manager.  Keen.”

“Really?  Keen how?” Aziraphale asked blandly.

Crowley grunted, “Some actual new ideas!” he said, sarcastically, “Memos requesting line item audits of miracles performed and how each upheld the glorious Great Plan for Satan’s supremacy.”

“Oh, that’s a blow,” Aziraphale replied solicitously.  “Home Office did that to me once.”

“You? Why?” Crowley replied, surprised.

“Said I’d made too many ‘frivolous’ miracles.” Aziraphale explained.

“Yeah?  Why would they say that?” Crowley replied with a little sarcastic smile, reminded of all the little restaurants and cafes the angel enjoyed.  Remembered rescuing Aziraphale from the Bastille when his miracles had been cut off.

Aziraphale hmmphed a little, turning to cast breadcrumbs in front of the demon, and noted the unaccustomed shabby look of Crowley’s clothing and his shaggy, tousled hair, it couldn’t be said to be a style (which wasn’t actually true, Kurt Cobain fans would have considered Crowley’s hair the height of fashion, except that they didn’t do high fashion).  That was odd.  Crowley kept his wardrobe pristine and took more care with his coiffure than Aziraphale.  

“Did they, ah,” Aziraphale inquired delicately, “‘Tighten the purse strings’ on you?”

After blowing out an expressive snort, Crowley slouched further, turning this way and that, “I’ve had to maintain clothing!  Do you have any idea how difficult it is to maintain silk while performing assignments in a rainy environment!?”

Raising his eyebrows and rolling his eyes to the side, Aziraphale smiled a tiny smile and said, “Well yes, dear boy, I do have some little facility in that department,” which the demon knew very well.  They’d had endless little disagreements about why Aziraphale kept his clothing fresh and tidy the human way and Crowley constantly cheated with miracles.  So, something was definitely amiss, but what?  “Why don’t you come by later and I can give you some tips.”

“Dunno.  It’s like someone’s staring at my back all the time!” 

So they would have to be extra cautious, “I’ve just gotten a new wine in from the New World, supposed to be rather special?”

“Mmmm,” Crowley wasn’t going to risk Hell’s new attention for a Pinot Noir.

“And a Scottish single malt.”

“MMmmm, yeah, alright,” Crowley acceded.  Risking Hell’s attention for whiskey was another matter.  The angel only drank that particular type of ‘demon drink’ with him.

“Well I’ll be off then,” Aziraphale said airily, passing just in front of Crowley as he walked purposefully out of the park.

Turning back to the ducks after the angel’s abrupt departure, Crowley looked down, only then noticing that Aziraphale had tucked the half empty bag of breadcrumbs into his pocket.

Shaking his head with a warmer smile on his lips, Crowley took out the bag and enjoyed feeding the ducks.

[pareidoliaonthemove]

The Harmonica

Gordon sat at his desk, admiring the newly polished sheen on his gold medal. Although, strictly speaking, gold didn’t need polishing as it doesn’t tarnish like silver or bronze (definitely a perk for first place, in Gordon’s opinion), it didn’t feel right to simply dust it off like he did knick-knacks and souvenirs. An Olympic medal demanded a measure of respect, gold more so than others.

Gently replacing the medal in its rightful place – centre eyelevel – in his display cabinet, Gordon smiled as an incongruous object surrounded by trophies, medals and ribbons caught his eye.

A child’s toy harmonica.

The Tracy brothers had had many musical instruments throughout their lives, often passed through the ranks from Scott to Alan (although Virgil often proved to be a speedbump on that progression, as his love of music and innate need to know how things worked intersected).

Gordon’s harmonicas were an exception to this rule. Gordon, and Gordon alone, played the harmonica.

The one on display was only the first of many.

At first (or indeed, second, third, fourth, fifth ...) glance a harmonica was not what someone expected to find in a swimmer’s trophy cabinet. Trophies, yes. Occasional swimming goggles, yes. But a harmonica? Not so much.

Gordon gently picked up the harmonica, gently dusting down the outside, and bringing it to his mouth. A quick scale slide up and down, and the harmonica sang out, as brassily cheerful and out of tune as the day his first swim coach had given it to him.

In hindsight, it was an ingenious solution to an unusual problem. Coach Saywell had never really been given the credit she deserved.

Gordon had been maybe all of five when Coach had given him this toy, telling him he couldn’t return to training in the pool until he could perform five up and down scale slides on one breath.

A brilliant delaying tactic, and invaluable breath control training for an impatient little boy just starting to recover from severe bronchitis and hell bent on competing in the pool.

Gordon had been ecstatic, he now had something he could do to make him better at swimming, even if he couldn’t actually swim. It was a goal he could work towards. And work he did.

His family had been less impressed.

Surprisingly, it had been Virgil who was first to crack; Scott and John desperately holding him back as Gordon ran to hide behind their parents as Virgil swore the destruction of his tormentor with all the fervour a seven-year-old could summon.

A compromise was quickly found, and Gordon was soon in possession of an actual honest-to-god grownup harmonica.

And music lessons.

Coach may have had a fine bead on how to motivate and support swimmers, but she was tone deaf when it came to musicians.

It turned out their mother had been as tortured as Virgil by the out of tune racket – she just held it better.

It was to the surprise of many that Gordon had stuck with the harmonic, although it was a distant second to swimming; but it had seen him through some of the worst times in his life.

It had been a comfort when he had been sick and unable to swim, a little piece of training he could persist with out of the water.

It has been a piece of home for the twelve months he spent underwater in the bathyscaphe.

It had been one of the few things he could do during the earlier stages of his post-hydrofoil recovery, helping him relearn to control hands, mouth, tongue and lungs.

And it had been with him some of the best times of his life. It was amazing how well people responded to someone whipping out a harmonic and blasting out a few tunes, and so much easier to carry around than a guitar, or piano, say.

Gordon smiled, and gently wiped the mouthpiece clean, before replacing the harmonic back in its place and closing the cabinet.

A quick glance at his clock, and Gordon opened a drawer in his desk, pulling out a smallish leather embossed box. Flipping it open, he pocketed his favourite harmonica, a vintage Hohner Billy Joel Signature diatonic.

He grinned heading out of his room. Johnny was down, and lurking in the lounge, with the rest of the family, and Virgil was due to start his piano practice.

Time to see if their resident vocalist and pianist remembered the old classic Piano Man.

Notes:

Growing up with serious asthma (as in, thank god for modern medicine, or I’d be dead many times over) in the late 80s, one of the favourite proscribed ‘lifestyle treatments’ was breath control. To this end, I was often given a harmonica (it encouraged deep and sustained breathing, apparently) and told to go play it out in the yard.

I had mostly forgotten this, until I recently inherited the beautiful chromatic harmonica my grandparents used to give me to play with.

And it got me thinking, swimming was also a favourite lifestyle treatment for asthmatics (it’s no coincidence so many Olympic swimmers are also life-long asthmatics), so it didn’t seem to be a far stretch to put a harmonic in Gordon’s hands.

I never learned to make anything other than an ungodly racket (I’ve tried online tutorials, but they just don’t work for me), so Gordon got the music I’ve sometimes wished for.

The standard disclaimers, I do not own Thunderbirds, either the Original Series, the Movies (both Supermarionation and Live Action), or the Thunderbirds Are Go Series. (Although I do own copies on DVD.)

I do not do this for money, but for my own (in)sanity and entertainment.

[napkinscrawls]

.Weird/Silly shared habits. ."No one understands me like you do".

Aether & ghoul!oc | 656 words | allusions to chronic illness & dissociation | spoon based harassment (pos)

Inspired by this post.

Aether understands spoons (kinda), he shares this knowledge. AO3

Aether hands Nimo a small silver spoon. It's certainly a very nice spoon: fancy handle, swoopy lines, moulded casting, filigree. But why he has given them it & why he looked so accomplished after doing so has Nimo reeling. They begin to panic about some obscure ancient ghoul rituals they'd not been prepped on. Luckily, Aether answers for them.

"You looked like you had no spoons." His elbow nudges them as if the sentence made sense.

"...I didn't have any on me, no." Nimo agrees tentatively.

"Don't you worry! See, I learnt about this human need for spoons, it's like an effigy thing for them, right?" He doesn't wait for a response "Which is where I come in." He pulls his hand out of his back pocket to reveal a handful of more spoons, each unique & clearly taken from different places. He grins conspiratorially & waggles the fist full of cutlery.

Nimo blinks "That is very… thoughtful… of you." Still lost, but locked into a situation they have no bearings for they err on the safest path of no resistance. Aether claps a hand on their shoulder. "If you need more, just ask." Hearing a whistle down the hall Aether slaps Nimo on the back once more & trots off.

Standing there holding a spoon in an empty hallway Nimo decides this is a joke at their expense & buries it deep in a pocket to be disposed of once they finish Sister Imperator's endless errands.

Throughout the next month, as soon as Nimo felt the fog descending, Aether would pop out of the ether brandishing a new spoon. Everytime he'd pass it to them with a brisk nod & a by-your-leave. They began to assume teleportation is a Quintessence skill & stopped flinching at his arrival. The ghoul had gained a small army of utensils back in their room; consistently too tired to make the journey to the main kitchen where they assumed the majority of these are being lifted from. Reasoning it would be more efficient to wait for the hazing to end so they'd only need one trip.

By the 3 week mark they had resigned themself to being complicit in this spoon laundering scheme:

When Imperator had Nimo stood outside her office, their shoulders sagging in the heat. They shifted their feet in hopes of keeping from locking up & sure enough, turning the corner was Aether, flagging them down with a wave, a toothy smile & a vintage spoon.

When they leant against the garden wall & watched the clouds, on a rare 5 minute break that they spent pretending their head wasn't trying to float away. A shiny spoon pops into view & contrasts the luminous blue sky with a reflection of their mask, warped into a sad frown by the concave surface. Looking to the base of the outstretched arm was of course Aether, who then booped Nimo's nose with the offending spoon & grinned.

When they watched the gaggle of ghouls tear up the field during their scheduled 'enrichment time'. Their louds screams & yelps carrying on the breeze as they chased each other around. The ghouls simultaneously were trying to catch & escape the small red stuffed toy they were tossing around, the rules either draconian or nonexistent. Instead all Nimo heard was a phantom scoff at the damage being done to the property 'only for the fleeting joys of ghouls' echo in their mind. Nimo felt their tail curl around their leg but it wasn't apart of them. Conversely: spoon.

Only later when Custos Eulogy caught them putting the now excessive amount of spoons into the appropriate kitchenette drawer did she explain Aether's misunderstanding of the colloquial term. She didn't tell them to keep the spoons, only that they weren't from the ministry & would no doubt cause some sort of unknowable inventory meltdown if Nimo did try to sneak them in. Regardless Nimo felt compelled to hold on to them, feeling just a little bit more prepared with one in their pocket.

[imaddicted2hs]

Part 2 ;)

Hey im here finally with part 2!!

Tell me if u want a part 3 cuz im always so nervous b4 i post XD

Word Count: 1.5k smth AGAIN

Warnings: None (yet hhehe)

read part 1 here

Happy Reading

-------------- :3 -----------

Loud music is blaring from her speaker as Y/N mindlessly walk around her small, cozy apartment, yawing with a pen in her hand as she tries to find that from where should she start tidying up the place. Last two days haven't been the best for her. From the hardest psychology test she has ever seen to her favourite dress getting stained so badly that even three whole washes, with a tear streaked face during the third one also couldn't remove it. From her comfort bringing bakery getting closed down because the owners were in debt to getting partnered with the worst dick hasn't helped either. At this point she has started to think that all the bad luck has decided to spend time with her every second of her life. So to relax her mind which was running non-stop and made the nights restless for her, she picks her phone from the table- switching it on for a second to take a quick glance at the time- she heads out of her apartment which automatically disconnects her phone from the bluetooth speaker. As she starts to walk around the neighbourhood, her nerves start to calm down, her mind gets peaceful and Y/N can't help but feel really refreshed all of a sudden. A rush of positive attitude takes place because of the chirping of birds, cute little dogs on walk and the sweet weather. The weather was extremely soothing today, her favourite one too. She was sure -as her feet carried her body lazily towards the zebra crossing- that it was the sky's colour and the soft breeze which had her motivated to do something new. She argues with herself in her mind about what place should be her next stop. Try to explore the surroundings and find a new bakery or visit the old place and see if any other shop took the place now. She desperately wants the old place to be a good shop atleast because her heart definitely doesn't want it to be a boring, mediocre store that sells out dated stuff with no trial options or return policy. She reaches for her phone as it makes a notification sound, the message being from her psychology professor. Before the brain can overthink about it, the phone is shoved back into her side pocket. Her mood is supposed to be good right now and she has a feeling that the message from her professor will have her going down a different lane. The walk is short. In no time she's at her destination, her assumptions being right. A new shop is in front of her, a big, artsy one and she looks up at the name of the shop with a spirit of inquiry. It's a shop that sells..... a lot of stuff. One glance in the right, she see soft toys and one to the left her eyes could literally become heart shaped because of the cutest jewellery she has ever found. She is liking it so far because in no time her legs themselves start to make their way inside. It's a gift shop she realises when a big box being wrapped by some old lady at what looks like a counter, comes in her sight. It's nothing like what she was afraid of seeing. It's a totally opposite place. It's cute, with an old vintage record store type of aesthetic. The walls painted with a biscotti colour are decorated with unique frames and creeper plants at the entrance. This is not like the old bakery at all but she still likes this aura. Wasting no time, to cure her curiosity she starts looking at the shelves around her, a big jewellery stand at the corner and even some handmade thank you cards. She's so lost in touching and feeling the feathery earrings that she doesn't notice a little boo sound literally right into her ear making her squeak loudly and jump on her spot. She's too startled as soft giggles catch her attention and she whips her head to the left, her features becoming soft at the sight of the curly headed boy she hasn't seen in two days. His eyes crinkle up as he giggles boyishly with his hands covering up his mouth. She face palms herself softly, uncontrollably smiling at his childish but still so adorable act. "Well hello there stranger" he starts the conversation looking into her eyes that were peeking back at him from the spaces between her fingers. "That was rude" she replies, rolling her eyes at him. While turning around to keep the pair back in it's place she mutters "why you haven't been showing up to the psychology class lately?" Her question catches him off guard as he struggles to let out an answer. "Nothing i- its just I'm finding it hard an- wait, how'd you know that? Aren't you in Sophmore year? I'm your senior y/n, have you been stalking me? Because," She could hear the smirk in his voice as she turns to face him, "from what I remember, we just had a joint English class." "No you dumbo, I have been taking psychology classes with the senior batch because apparently the studies of last two year classes were kinda easy for me, according to my old professor not me!" She yells the last part a little causing him to chuckle, standing there with already wide eyes. "So you are telling me that here I can't do my grade studies and the girl here, a smartass definitely, is taking senior year psycho? Wow I'm dumb huh?" He teases her as a blush appears on her cheeks because she definitely made the impression she was trying her best to avoid. "No no stop, you aren't dumb! Psychology can be hard. For me too it is, but I just have a deep interest in it. Plus you didn't even show up last two days, I had the worst test ever!" She exclaims trying to convince him something that he doesn't want to believe. "Well then I would have failed in it if it was the worse test for our Miss y/n here." She groans because now he probably thinks she's some book worm always studying that one subject. "Spend more time with me and then you will know just how stupid I'm." "Oh so now you are inviting me to spend time with you?" He grins knowing what he is doing. Her eyes widen and she rushes out "No I-" "Relax oh my god, you are so cute." He snorts making her too flustered for her own good. And what can she even say? First he embarrasses her and then calls her cute. She's liking this bullying a little too much and she is definitely angry on herself because of how she's feeling. "What are you even doing here anyways" she asks him, changing the topic. "Oh me? This is my mum's friend's shop and I needed some money so I decided why not work here on weekends." "Oh that's good." Y/N says not knowing how to react to the new piece of information she got. She definitely likes it though. "And since you are our first customer of today, I want you to have this as a gift from me," he says holding out the earrings she was looking at earlier. She gasps at his actions, surprised because she didn't even see him take it. "You liar! I myself saw a kid getting his stuff packed when I entered." "Oh you smart little thing," he rolls his eyes as his little attempt to lie fails. "I still want you to have it as a gift from me, please? I'll not take an no for an answer," he hands her the earrings ignoring her efforts to give it back. "I'll pay for this back somehow" she sighs shaking her head because of the boy in front of her. "I'll see about that" he replies grinning at her. As he hears his phone chime, he stops looking at her, a message from his professor pops up making him sigh. "I swear to god this guy wants me to set up with a tutor so bad" he grumbles as he starts walking again, ignoring the message. "Tutor? Which subject are you talking about?" she questions him. "Mr David. He knows how I almost didn't pass psychology last year. He mentioned earlier that he knows some girl who is really good at this and he will ask her if she can tutor me." Not thinking of it as a co incidence, she let's it slip out that she too received a message from him which she ignored. "What? Oh lord he was talking about you!" Harry says being too sure. "No it can't be" y/n shakes her head, reaching for her phone, unlocking it with the face ID. As she reads through the message that she got earlier her mouth parts a little "see, I told you!" Harry gasps, peeking at her phone. As she pinches her eye shut, sighing deeply she hears him say "Oooo I guess Miss y/n will tutor me now. I'm a psychology topper in progress." "I didn't even agree to do it yet" she mutters. "You want to be the only topper don't you? Promise I'll not beat you up, I'll stay second always." He shows off that dimple poking smile and now how can she say no to that.

THE END. SO QUICK IK but if u liked it please gimme feedback I’ll appreciate that and don’t forget to reblog. Thanks for reading :)

[incorrectbatfam]

What are all the batfam doing on Christmas Eve/Christmas Day?

Placed under the cut for length

Kate swings into town after a few months of world travel with gifts for everyone, including but not limited to: a vintage revolver for Jason, a lightsaber for Duke, a Belgian waffle maker for Steph, an unreleased Nintendo game for Tim, a penguin for Damian, and cashmere socks for Alfred

Gotham doesn’t see as much snowfall as it usually does, so Harper builds a snow machine and turns the Manor into a must-visit ski resort

Alfred won’t admit it, but his favorite Christmas film is Grandma Got Run Over By A Reindeer

Cass tries to teach Cullen to snowboard. Keyword: tries

Tim give the coffee a break and switches it out for hot cocoa and a well-deserved nap

Carrie, Dick, and Duke tie their sleds together with scarves. It doesn’t end well

Jason invites Roy and Lian for dinner since they have a ton of food and two extra people’s not that much. Jason buys Lian a toy fishing rod with his spare cash but quickly regrets it when she follows him and Roy around with mistletoe

Speaking of mistletoe, when the Kents fly by, Kon’s carrying a bunch in his pocket. Every time Bruce confiscates one, another appears

Lois and Alfred decorate the tree together, with Krypto adding the star on top

Jon mirrors Damian’s gift last year by getting a matching Monk-E-Monsters toy for him

In the twelve days leading up to Christmas, Tim takes photos around the Manor while Duke rewrites the Twelve Days of Christmas song, and they compile it into a holiday scrapbook

Babs gets the girls together on Christmas Eve eve and they watch Hallmark movies, eat cookies, and turn unused batarangs into ornaments

Clark gets a card as tall as Bruce. It’s the only way he can ensure that everyone’s names and personalized messages fit

Tim also takes close-ups of snowflakes. He sends them to Damian, who draws them. Then Dick traces them on cardstock, Steph adds glitter, and Jason hangs them from the ceiling

Selina shows up fashionably late with cat-themed sweaters for everyone

Bruce puts a Santa hat over the cowl and makes his rounds giving food and toys to everyone along the way. Everyone else is an elf—except Jason, who dressed up as Krampus

Dick makes one of those cowboy fringe shirts with tinsel

All the pets have bells on their collars

Kate does the best rendition of Jingle Bell Rock

Bruce and Selina, on the other hand, kill it with the Baby, It’s Cold Outside duet

Cullen and Steph get into the age-old debate of whether The Nightmare Before Christmas is a Christmas or Halloween movie

Meanwhile, Harper counts Die Hard as a Christmas movie

When Damian hears about Santa’s reindeer, he demands to adopt them all and free them from their “capitalist-driven labor prison”

Nothing happens in Gotham. There’s no exploding Christmas tree in the plaza or bombs disguised as packages. Bruce lets himself relax with a hot cocoa as his fianceé nestled against his side and his kids open their presents by the firelight. All is good in the night

[neonponders]

*sigh* catch me projecting on a Saturday.

I read this post ( @lazybakerart you wizard - ALSO IT’S YOUR BIRTHDAY?????? HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!! 🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹) and am now thinking about a sugardaddy!Billy with an ace!Steve. (*emphasis on grey ace*)

* Please nobody attack me for writing about leather fashion. I’m vegetarian and it’s fiction. Live a little. *

Read on ao3 ~

🌹 🌹 🌹 🌹 🌹 🌹 🌹

Steve just kind of stared at the box on the restaurant table. It wasn’t a ring box, but it was velvet. Goodness knew how many of these he’d seen in his life.

Steve knew wealth. He knew money, and all of the material variations therein.

He’d gotten pedicures with his mother before his father declared such a thing unfit for a boy coming into puberty. If you look like a man, act like a man. As if men didn’t have feet, or something.

Then he went to the salon. That wasn’t so easy to take away. Ventures with her son seemed to be the only things keeping Mrs. Harrington from being connected to her husband’s hip, so Mr. Harrington let them both have this one. Steve, fresh out of graduation, being given a hairdresser’s chair to accomplish summer-fresh highlights.

Mrs. Harrington was also the type of woman to enjoy shoes. Everyone has a thing. For some, they had bags. Others, jewelry. Vintage furniture. Designer wallpaper. Mrs. Harrington enjoyed shoes. It was where Steve learned to carry a woman’s bags, but he didn’t stay outside of the store. He learned how to clean suede, the difference between a 130 So Kate and an ordinary heel. What fetish meant in terms of fashion. He can convert heels sizes in millimeters to inches faster than a cashier calculating change.

Tommy and Carol had joked about Steve’s father having a different kind of fetish. Nothing to do with fashion, and everything to do with sex. Steve had foolishly let them into his mother’s bedroom and they were having a field day with a shoe closet that cost more than both of their houses combined. Still smelling of Nancy and pool chlorine, Steve as good as ended that friendship right there.

Because they didn’t get it.

Mr. Harrington certainly didn’t get it. Could never have such a sexual inclination because he didn’t understand pampering or indulgent interests.

He understood favors. Material apologies.

Mrs. Harrington had a collection of pearls and diamonds that she never wore.

Steve knew she liked opals and pink, pink rubies, because Steve liked opals too. Because he used his father’s money to buy ruby studs his mother actually wore. Because he gets her oldest, broken bracelet with green amber fixed, and she wears it until it breaks again. And then she presented Steve with a thin, gold chain to go around his ankle. With a gleaming, green amber stone flanked by two opals.

The green goes with our eyes, she said. Someone special will see the green in all that brown. It’s why we look good in reds.

Steve was still looking at the box on the table.

“It’s not going to catch fire, the longer you glare at it.”

His dark hazel, creek water eyes slanted up to the man sitting opposite him.

Billy Hargrove.

Stubborn to a fault. Gorgeous as Lucifer with wings freshly burnt off. And just as dangerous.

“I thought I said no more gifts.”

“And I ignored you. Open it.”

Steve went about it like ripping off a bandaid. He sighed at the window beside their booth, wrenching the thing open to see -

Diamonds.

He shut it with a loud clap and set it on Billy’s placemat. “No, thanks.”

The man’s features froze in tolerant stoicism, but he eased the box inside his suit jacket pocket. “You’re a hard one to shop for.”

Steve’s eyes widened dramatically over his wine glass of water. Not because he was sober - he’d willingly pay for an overpriced red, himself, if the handsome asshole weren’t trying to wave his wallet everywhere. “You can stop trying to buy your way into my pants any time you want.”

“If that’s all I wanted, I would’ve stopped three months ago.”

Three months ago,

When Billy breezed into Steve’s life as easily as he had senior year of high school. The two of them certainly deserved some kind of award for having a bizarre history.

Within a handful of months, Billy had arrived upon a turbulent time in Steve’s life, and then left nearly as quickly. Billy witnessed Steve and Nancy’s break-up, Steve’s fall from Hawkins High grace, and even beat his face a little bit. Because that’s what teenage men with bad emotional processing and even worse communication skills do.

Now, almost ten years later, Billy had some kind of empire behind him and Steve, well, didn’t. He had no idea what Billy’s job consisted of, but he got little hints. Mostly the negative space from Billy’s lack of discussing his job told Steve a whole lot.

Steve, who worked two jobs and occasional gigs wherever he was needed. During one such time, while Steve managed the cables and sound boards for Robin’s band, Billy Hargrove sauntered up to him with just as much charm mixed with hauteur as he’d ever displayed.

It wasn’t like meeting an old friend, because they had never been more than acquaintances, and roughly ten years was enough time for a personality to evolve ten different ways.

Steve couldn’t say how much he and Billy had evolved, really, but there was a point in there somewhere.

Maybe it lived in the, “I never expected to see you in a dyke club, pretty boy,” since it was all the coming out either of them needed.

Or the wanton kisses and fervent hands underneath the neon rainbow on the venue’s wall.

Maybe the point sat in the things Billy wanted, and what Steve was reticent to provide. Because Billy was a king who knew what he liked, and seemed particularly talented at walking into Steve’s personal crises like an anniversary.

Steve craved.

But he didn’t know what he craved. What he yearned for. He knew Billy’s kisses made his brain go molten and fuzzy. He knew Billy’s smell brought him just as much comfort, excitement, and anxiety. He knew finally being outside of sex-crazed high school had deflated something in him. The expectations to perform. He knew losing Robin’s stupid game of You Rule / You Suck gave him a secret gift of relief.

But he still craved. He wanted touch but he wanted to be alone. He wanted companionship but he didn’t want sex. But he did enjoy sex, except he didn’t want the expectation of it.

Well.

That was it, wasn’t it?

Billy Hargrove, who could have anyone he wanted plastered to his stupid, unbuttoned chest, had sought out Steve. Steve, king of mixed signals, Harrington. It was only a matter of time before he got his face beaten again. For wasting Billy’s time. For refusing Billy’s advances even though Steve clearly enjoyed Billy’s lips on his neck, and Billy’s hand on his inner thigh. For wanting Billy’s company and flirtation without the rules that finished in the bedroom.

So Steve refused the gifts. The material favors he could’ve sold for a better apartment. Fucked his way to owning a house that his mom would feel comfortable visiting. Be an unfeeling toy who could pay for his mother’s shoes and his own pedicures.

“Steve?”

He turned away from the window and the city’s electric constellations. “Hm?”

“Where’d you go?”

The back of Steve’s throat ached. He looked down at their appetizer plates and decided, “I think I’m going home.” After a second of them both hearing it out loud, Steve said with more conviction, “I need to be home right now. I’m sorry. Thanks for dinner.”

He almost reached for his wallet to pay for his half of the artichoke dip, but reconsidered. He took his old prom tuxedo jacket off on the way to the elevator, waiting for the doors to close before he pressed his face into the old fibers.

It would be easier if Steve didn’t know money. If wealth were a foreign pillow he had never slept on; could be spoiled into never giving it up again.

Like a true mother with a sixth sense, Steve withdrew a package from his mailbox when he returned to his apartment building. Mrs. Harrington’s versions of care packages were fashion magazines, a subscription to The New Yorker, polaroids of her latest closet pieces, and Steve’s favorite candy.

He loved it all. He didn’t need laminated recipes, bags of rice, or resupplied hair products. He went up to his bedroom, stripped down to nothing, and fell into bed with the hefty parcel. Fruity hard candies fell out like confetti, and he stuck a green apple square inside his cheek while he looked through her baggie of polaroids.

Peach suede 130s. Steve felt a warm tickle in his belly at that. She only wore 130s if she was pissed at his father. A woman in 130s walked with the force of a storm, mostly because the damn things were nearly intolerable to wear without a platform.

Another pair of diamond earrings. One of these days, people were going to realize how boring clear rocks were.

Dark, amethyst Miu Mius with the heel and toe encrusted with pearls. Steve’s dad must’ve really pissed her off to warrant that apology.

The magazine subscription had piled up, so he had three New Yorkers to read, but he opened the tome of Vogue first. His mother dog-earred her favorite articles, scent samples, and spreads. She often favored the androgynous and male fragrances. Steve liked that a whole lot. He wasn’t sure if she did that for him because he liked them, or if he liked them because she did that.

He held the magazine to his face as he went to the kitchen, smelling the first fragrance sample while he reached for his cache of boxed cake mix. It was a funfetti kind of night. He rattled the package of sprinkles in his hand while reading about some summer collection where the runway happened in a Greek ampitheatre. Sounded fun. Sounded like a great vacation. Beach, wine, and then modern art fusing with ancient architecture.

Steve didn’t excel in chemistry, but he knew a different kind of magic.

Which didn’t actually include baking. The cake emerged a little dark, but he cut off the burnt top, iced it to glorious, sugar perfection, and took a slice to bed with him. He turned the parcel upside-down for the last of the candy to come out so he could throw the envelope away -

Two bottles of nail polish landed heavily on the bed. Steve lifted the darker bottle to see a purple so ebony he thought it was black until he opened it to see the paint up close.

Purple and peach. To match his mother’s shoes.

Not many people understood his parents’ methods of producing or avoiding affection. But Steve did. He shook up the poison violet and painted his toenails in between forkfuls of cake.

He didn’t hear from Billy the next day.

Or the next.

As bad as Steve felt, he couldn’t say he minded. Nor would he be surprised if Billy never called him again. The idea brought a lonely peace during the commute to work, reading his magazines on the train before keeping them safe in a folder that he stuffed inside his backpack. Even if Steve’s chest felt like a cold balloon, with its latex worn thin and tired, he had his little things to keep him warm.

Then a knock on his apartment door.

Steve answered it with a cheek full of cake, interrupted from making his grocery list of actual nutritional value - 

Billy had never visited before. Steve stared at him long enough for him to ask, “Are you going to let me in?”

Steve glanced at the box under his arm and turned into his apartment with a sigh. Billy closed the door behind him as he remarked, “You don’t know what’s in it yet.”

There wasn’t exactly anywhere for Steve to theatrically storm off to. His kitchen was also his living room, and a half-wall partitioned the bedroom off to the side. His apartment was one long rectangle, and Steve remained stuck in the middle of it.

“Billy, I don’t know what you want from me that you think you can get from expensive things.”

“I don’t recall asking for anything in return,” he drawled while removing his coat.

“Don’t take that off,” Steve retorted.

“I’m taking it off.”

“This isn’t going to be a long visit.”

“Would you at least open the damn thing first?” Billy presented the box on the flat of his hand like a waiter’s tray.

Steve knew a shoe box when he saw one. He swatted the lid off the box before he even meant to. He was so tired of this game. Of these rules. He doesn’t want to see some snotty designer sneaker that isn’t to his taste. Some item the rules would dictate he accept without complaint. Or some chunky, foamy plastic, glorified tennis shoe that is over hyped . . .

He sees the red first.

It’s not a sneaker.

Hot Chick heels. 100mm. Black suede on top, red bottom. The leather around the heel scallop-cut like minimalist flower petals.

Steve’s breath has stopped in his chest. The pad of his thumb moved across the soft, matte leather before he stops himself. He tries to look stern when he dares to peek up at Billy, but those water-turquoise eyes are steady on him, absorbing his every reaction.

“These don’t exist in suede.”

Because they didn’t. Hot Chicks came in patent leather only.

“They do now.”

“Louboutin sizes down.”

“Then we’ll have them stretched.”

Steve is losing. Billy knows he’s losing. Billy - he -

“How - ?” Steve begins but stops. He closed his eyes and swallowed, only to flinch a little when Billy grasped his chin, holding him in place as he leaned in to lick the corner of his mouth free of icing.

“Will you try them on for me?”

Steve feels a mixture of defeat mixed in with petulance and vulnerable glee as he warily takes the box to his humble couch. Billy looked at his bed, and then to the kitchen on the other side of the apartment. He strolled into it and lifted the knife for a slice.

Steve, meanwhile, took his time. He opened the paper from where it had floated back over the shoes. He lifted the box to inhale the leather. He took one shoe out just to...see it. Look at it. Read the number stamped on the red arch.

Steve had to remove his socks, revealing his lacquered toes as Billy sat next to him with a plate. He eased the coffee table out of the way, giving Steve room to wiggle his foot into the severe 100mm heel.

They were hardly glamorous under his old, cut-off sweats.

But.

He’d never actually seen his feet in heels before. Never bothered to try to find his size.

Billy handed him the other shoe, and stood up with a ready hand. Steve wiggled into it and accepted his hold as he stood up.

How do you walk in those? he’d once asked his mother.

Trust the heel, my love, she’d answered, strolling around her bedroom in her 130s. If you’ve paid enough for it, it better hold up your entire form, and your dating baggage.

Steve had laughed, but listened to her every word. Move like a wheel barrow. You pivot on your toes, like the wheel, and rest on the heels.

“I’ve got you,” Billy purred when Steve teetered. Just a little.

“Why did you get me these?” Steve had to ask while he began to ease his arm off of Billy’s shoulders.

“Might’ve had a look inside your mail,” he admitted shamelessly. “I thought you might’ve ordered something and I could finally see what you liked. Instead, it’s the one thing I’ve seen you accept.”

“You’re a creep,” Steve declared, but he couldn’t look away from his feet as he strolled around the coffee table.

Billy laughed and sat down to his cake. “This is good.”

“It’s from a box.”

“It’s still good.”

Things . . . changed, after that. Billy came over just to come over. And he pestered Steve with endless questions.

“Do you like these?” he asked with his nose against the magazine pages.

Steve towered over him in his heels, but he’d wash dishes in whatever he wanted, thanks very much. And leather needed to be worn, as his mother taught him. Plastic is trash. If it comes from a living creature, it lives on a creature.

Steve snorted beside him. “My mom crimps those pages.”

“But do you like them?”

“They’re fun in magazines, but perfumes were never really my thing.”

“What is your thing?”

“Right now? You, elbows deep in here.”

Billy perked right out of the magazine only to lock onto the sink. “Because you’re having trouble reaching it now?”

Steve meant to have a witty come-back, but he got caught up in his own giggles. “Yeah.”

Then,

“Can I stay the night?”

Something must have flashed across his face, because Billy added, “Not for sex. I’ve taken the hint, all right?”

Steve slowly unfolded his socks where he sat on the foot of the bed. “Why do you want to?”

Billy wiped his hands on the dish towel and padded across the room to sit beside him. “Because I want to taste you before I sleep. And I wanna taste you when I wake up. I want your snark in my ears all the time - ”

“All the time?” Steve repeated, deadpan.

“Yeah, all the time. I can’t believe it either.”

Billy’s features were warm, unbelievably warm as he watched Steve laugh. “Of course I want to have sex with you. But I miss you when... I miss you all the time. It’s embarrassing.”

Steve rolled his eyes onto him, to which Billy defended, “I have things to do.”

“Yeah, ‘cause you’re the big man in town,” Steve babied, pushing his chest so he toppled backward.

“I am, actually,” he crooned, his hands finding Steve’s legs easily when he straddled him. “I’d work better with you on my desk.”

“My hairy legs and scraped up heels?” Steve threatened breathily, holding Billy’s cheek and jaw in one hand while he leaned over him so all Billy could see was Steve.

“All of it,” he exhaled, and pulled Steve’s head the last inch for a kiss.

Billy’s next gift was a pair of slippers. Plush, soft, and perfect after an afternoon in 100s.

Then he gave Steve a massage. Steve could accept those with ease. The balls of his feet hurt and even blushed a faint indigo from being so unused to heels. The warm attention of Billy’s hands on the arches of his feet, heels, and ankles; as well as the cold tennis balls he stored in Steve’s freezer to roll along his feet.

By then, he’d seen Steve’s anklet. So the next shoe box Steve opened were dark green suede, as poisonously dark as his mother’s violet heels. The toe was bare, but the heel was encrusted with opals. The milky stones flashed green and orange as Steve walked in the 120mm heel.

“How do they feel?”

Steve, with far more mastery over heels now, pivoted on his toes and planted one on the couch in between Billy’s thighs. His warm hand cradled Steve’s ankle immediately.

“What if I shaved for these?”

“Then I’d never take my hands off you.”

“So nothing would change,” Steve giggled, teasing gone as he landed on Billy’s lap. The man underneath him hummed his mirth into Steve’s mouth, his other hand burying in Steve’s hair while he let Steve control the kiss, explore his mouth.

“I thought they’d go with your eyes,” he said when the kiss petered off and Steve kissed his nose. Billy touched the pad of his thumb high on Steve’s cheek. “There’s a little bit of green there.”

Steve let Billy fuck him in those shoes.

Because he finally craved all the way, beyond fear of rules. Beyond the existence of toys. He craved Billy deeper than skin, and Billy gave it to him.

And when Billy got him a pair of 130s . . . blood red and spiked with tiny, crimson points, he let Steve fuck him.

[miracleonice87]

Magic in the Hamptons

a Mat Barzal song fic

a/n: this one has been a long while coming. very loosely based on the song Magic in the Hamptons by Social House (woo, Pittsburgh!) feat. Lil Yachty. obviously I don’t own any of this music/lyrics. mostly based on Matt Martin and Sydney Esiason’s wedding, which totally doesn’t make sense timing-wise since I mention the TikTok dance to this song, but we’re rolling with it!

summary: Mat Barzal and his girlfriend travel to the Hamptons for the Esiason/Martin wedding, where their relationship takes a big step, too.

warnings: alcohol. swearing. brief mentions of sex. cheesy singing and dancing. cotton candy fluff.

______

The New York state wedding of the year had finally arrived.

Matt Martin and Sydney Esiason, Mat’s teammate and his fiancé — who were both your close friends — were tying the knot at last, and you, Mat, and the boys were Southampton-bound to ring in the occasion. Mat had rented out a house for a group of you — Jordan and Lauren, Anders and Grace, and Tito, who had chosen to fly solo in hopes of wheeling a single girl at the reception. Other Islanders, both current and former, were staying either in their own Hamptons summer homes or in places they, too, had rented for the weekend, all within a short distance of each other, so the next few days were about to be quite the affair.

You and Mat had flown in on a red eye from Vancouver, and you were grateful that you’d actually caught a few hours of shuteye on the plane, because Mat was now absolutely buzzing with excitement about seeing so many of his past and present teammates in the middle of the summer, not to mention celebrating Marty and Sydney, who had taken the two of you under their wing, affectionately calling you “Baby Matt and Baby Syd.”

On the way from the airport to the property, Mat had stopped at a market to stock up on the essentials — namely, cases of beer, bottles of wine, handles of liquor, and, of course, plenty of champagne. Mat heaved it all into the SUV, and minutes later, the two of you were pulling into the driveway of the sprawling Cape Cod-style abode where you would be staying, the first portion of the crew to arrive.

The two of you unpacked the car, Mat insisting on carrying the majority of the load, and staked your claim on the master suite, which was sure to be something Mat’s older, married captain chirped him about later in the weekend. The two of you walked through each room of the house, soaking in the summer cottage vibes, before making your way back to the kitchen to set up shop.

After Mat poured two flutes of champagne and proposed a toast to Marty and Syd, the two of you sipped the bubbly and discussed plans for the rest of the day, including Mat accompanying Marty to pick up the wedding bands from the jeweler in town. 

Soon, Mat found his way into the living room and spotted the stereo.

“Time to turn up, babe,” he announced, truly a frat boy at heart, pulling his phone from his pocket. When he finally finished fiddling with the Bluetooth sound system, Mat theatrically spun your way as you stocked the fridge with your enormous alcohol order. You smirked at him when you heard the first few beats of the song.

“C’mon,” Mat coaxed, nodding his head toward the open concept living room floor. “You gotta come dance with me to this song right now!”

You tipped your head back with a chuckle, shaking your head as you watched your clown of a boyfriend, who always made time to sing and dance because he loved the way you lit up when he did. As you left the grocery bags on the island and sauntered his way, he started to perform.

“Spot a little hottie when I flipped up the shades,” he began, giving you his best sexy eyes, making you snort and immediately cover your mouth with one hand. “Lookin' like a red ‘Rari sittin' in a driveway…” Mat continued, taking your hands and dancing around the room as you took turns feeding the lyrics to one another animatedly.

“Me and you should get a room right now,” you sang to him, pushing your chest up against his and watching his eyebrows quirk in that endearing way that made butterflies erupt within you. You toyed with his ever-present chain as you delivered the next lyric: “’Cause if it's gold, I'll throw it away, you're worth more than every single chain…”

With that, Mat spun you around, pulling you back into him and situating his lips right above your forehead as he said, “Best drink I take is when I sippin' you…”

Automatically, the two of you broke apart and launched into the TikTok dance for the chorus, mirroring each other as you tried to focus on each move without bursting into hysterics watching one other.

After you danced through the next verse, Mat pulled your back to his chest, hands gripping yours tightly as he said into a low voice into your ear, “…next trip I take is just me and you.” You turned your face toward him and smiled warmly, then both repeated the moves to the chorus that you’d learned together from the cool young kids on social media.

Mat tore up Lil Yachty’s rap verse as you danced in front of him, giggling.

“This is how I feel about you when I’m away…” Mat spoke before switching back to his rap persona, jokingly getting in your face, arms thrown behind him in a playful confrontation. “I'm tired of looking at your pictures, wanna be up in your face.”

You shook your head at his antics, laughing as he continued, spinning you around again and again with one hand like a ballerina. “I wanna dance with you, I wanna laugh, I wanna sing. Take you on the road, have you rockin' all my bling. Don't know if you're the one but if you are, you'll get a ring…”

Mat smirked at you as he said that particular word, throwing a flirtatious wink your way and causing your heart to flutter. You rolled your eyes and tried to play off how excited that statement coming from Mat’s lips made you, even if it was just a line in a goofy song.

Unbeknownst to you two, Tito had just stepped through the front door and lifted his sunglasses to rest atop his head when Mat delivered the final line with an amusing passion.

“And you look so classy, come through with that magic. You know that I'm ‘bout to smash it, it's true.” With that, Mat grabbed a generous handful of your asscheek and bit at your earlobe, your hands finding his face as you squealed, trying and failing to pry him away from you and stop his mischief.

“TMI,” you heard from the entryway, causing you to jump in Mat’s arms as he laughed at his friend’s statement, eyebrows high on his forehead. Tito walked over with a smirk, shaking his head, and Mat wrapped his arms around your waist tenderly.

“Oh, you two,” Tito teased, kissing your cheek and dapping up Mat as the three of you made your way to the kitchen for your second of what would prove to be many rounds of drinks that afternoon.

_____

Mat was content.

He sat beside you two days later in the breezy Southampton afternoon air, long arm wrapped easily around the back of your chair, fingers lightly caressing your shoulder as you listened to Matt and Sydney deliver their vows to one another. You’d been dabbing at the corners of your eyes with a handkerchief throughout the entire ceremony, Mat’s heart swelling at your evident love for Marty and Syd.

As you lifted the hankie once more to your face, Mat leaned in and delivered the most tender kiss to your temple, his eyes fluttering closed as he breathed in your scent and the pure sweetness of the moment. He felt you melt into his touch, your hand shifting from his thigh to grasp his hand tightly in your own, smoothing your thumb over his knuckles. That simplest of gestures intoxicated him, and despite the wedding going on before you, he couldn’t keep from telling you exactly what he was thinking.

“I love you,” he whispered into your ear, breath tickling your neck and sending goosebumps down your exposed arms. You hummed softly in appreciation, leaning further into his body, resting your head on his shoulder.

“I love you, Maty,” you whispered back, squeezing his hand.

As he looked down to your left hand, entwined with his as they lay in his lap, Mat smiled, thinking of the new addition that would soon adorn that one special finger.

And the best part?

You had no idea.

_____

You were feeling yourself.

It could be the alcohol, or the blue satin dress you donned that suited you so well, or the intense way Mat had been staring at you all night, or a combination of all three. You didn’t know for sure, but either way, you were feeling the best you had in a long time.

Which is why you didn’t hesitate to follow along when, as you stood next to Mat at the bar, his arm slung around your waist and hand resting teasingly just above your backside, Tito hustled up to you as London Bridge by Fergie began to flood the room and grabbed your hands, pulling you away from your boyfriend as he looked on with a pout.

“He,” Tito started, pointing at Mat, “can get you a drink. We,” he motioned between himself and you, “are gonna dance to this right now.”

You threw your head back in a laugh, tossing Mat a look that told him you were only slightly sorry, which quickly faded when you and Tito joined everyone on the dance floor. A crowd naturally circled around the two of you, a pair of the most fun-loving of the entire group, who often kept the others entertained at such events, along with Mat, who was currently enjoying just soaking it all in from afar.

Mat couldn’t keep his eyes off you as you mimicked Fergie’s drop-it-low moves from the now-vintage music video, watching how your hair — not to mention your perky butt and breasts — bounced each time you moved. What made him smile, though, wasn’t how gorgeous your body looked — it was the radiant glow on your face, in your eyes, as you goofed off with many of your closest friends. His closest friends. Though Mat loved you just as much on a rainy morning on the Island, wrapped in his sweats and makeup smeared across your face, these were the moments that made you shine the brightest, your love of life bubbling over onto everyone around you.

As Mat admired your magnetizing charm, Marty approached, playfully rubbing Mat’s shoulders like he was a prizefighter in a ring. Mat reached a hand up, which Marty firmly smacked and squeezed before settling his elbows back against the bar, watching his own love on the dance floor, only feet away from you as the two of you laughed together.

“She get suspicious at all the other day?” Marty inquired with a smirk, nodding gratefully at the bartender who knowingly poured another whisky for him and a fresh vodka cranberry for his bride, after setting down Mat’s beer and your rum ginger in front of him.

Mat couldn’t keep the smile off his face. “Surprisingly, no,” he answered, chuckling. “She really bought it when I told her that Syd asked me to go to the jeweler with you to make sure you got the right rings.”

Marty threw a hand to his chest in mock offense. “Wow!” he exclaimed. “Your girl really must have no faith in me. Syd thought it was hilarious, honestly. And she’s so excited she can barely take it.” Mat nodded. “So... when you gonna do it?” Marty asked, nudging an elbow into Mat’s abdomen.

Mat looked down to his shoes bashfully, a flush spreading from beneath the collar of his dress shirt up to his cheeks.

“Soon,” he said firmly. “I’ve already talked to her parents, and I know her sister can barely keep it together, ever since she helped me design the ring,” Mat added with a grin. “Think I wanna plan a little getaway for just the two of us here in the next couple weeks or so. Do it then.”

Marty backhanded Mat’s bicep and let out an excited “whoop!”

“That’s awesome, buddy,” he told Mat. “I didn’t know you were popping the question so soon!”

Mat turned his gaze to you once more as he and Marty made their way back to the dance floor, drinks for themselves and their favorite women in hand. He smiled at Marty before making his final comment on the topic for the evening.

“Would’ve asked her day one if I had the guts.” Marty nodded in understanding and sent a wink Mat’s way before kissing Sydney’s cheek and handing off her drink, Syd squealing her thanks.

Mat did the same, and you were in a fit of giggles as you hooked one arm around his neck and accepted the glass with your other hand, the last strains of the song fading into another. Suddenly, your brows shot up as you gasped dramatically.

“Hot shit!” you exclaimed along with Nelly over the speakers. Mat laughed loudly at you, kissing you before you turned around, grinding against him slightly — had he told you today that you were pure evil, he wondered — and began dancing to the tune.

And there, swaying along with you to Country Grammar, Mat knew that he had chosen the right girl to dance with, tonight and for the rest of his life.

[getitinbusan]

Locked -

Taehyung 

Smut with Taehyung in Paris what could be better? 19+

Happy Birthday Taehyung! You are my sun my moon and all of my stars.

Part of the The Juis Suis Fou de Toi Universe.

Artist Tae AU. 4213 words.

While convincing his girlfriend he should paint her, things get a little sexually abstract.

Contains sex (M/F), Oral (M) Mutual Masturbation (M/F), Swearing, Slight Dom Tae, OC is insecure. Do not be fooled before the read more, there is no cheating in this fic. 

"We're almost home, please don't make me carry you."

Yeontan looked up with big eyes as he defiantly sat in the middle of the sidewalk. Crouching down to his level in defeat you tore a piece of your pastry off and began bargaining.

"It's strawberry your favorite, you can have some if you just stand up."

He let out a little bark seemingly in agreeance with the bribe and stood, tail wagging frantically.

"Tannie," Taehyung scooped the excited dog into his arms while placing a kiss on your cheek.

"Camille, this is my girlfriend Y/N and this," Yeontan wiggled in his arms while licking his face, "is Tannie."

"Oh, Hi."

Shocked you took in the tall gorgeous blonde who accompanied you boyfriend. Why Taehyung was walking around the streets of Paris with her you were unsure, and honestly not very happy. 

"It's really nice to meet you Camille."

Suddenly feeling self conscious you pulled your coat tighter around yourself.

Taehyung, noticing the sudden shift in your mood wrapped his arms around your waist.

"Camille is helping me with the gallery opening. We were going to grab some dinner before we started. Do you want to join us?"

Your mind raced, what do you do?  He hadn't invited you in the first place so obviously you'd be intruding.

If you stayed he'd be looking at you side by side, comparing Pomme to Pomme De Terre. But, if you left they'd be alone, getting to know one another or worse. Maybe they already knew each other better than they should.  

In either scenario your insecurities would be winning. 

"Tannie's getting pretty tired and I was going to stop at the Butcher to grab us dinner." Your eyes fell on his searching for guilt and found nothing but adoration. "But I guess you've already got plans so I'll just catch up with you later." 

He passed the dog back to you, a new look of concern on his face.

"Okay, I guess I'll just see you at home later," he kissed your cheek. 

"Bye Tannie, bye Y/N."

The woman smiled and looped her arm through Taehyung's as they walked towards the cafe. 

"That doesn’t mean anything right Tan? It’s just a French thing I’m sure.” You must be going crazy standing in the street talking to your dog. “So, how do you feel about stopping for some wine?"

You frowned at your four legged companion and for once he seemed sympathetic offering a head tilt and a whimper.

"Don't worry, you can have his Steak." 

Walking home in a daze you searched your memory, had he told you about this? Taehyung liked to work alone, surely you'd remember him mentioning he'd hired an assistant. 

Your feet had suddenly become as tired as your mind. The blue mansard roof of your apartment peeked through the greenery of the blowing trees urging you forward, calling you home.  

Rounding the last corner, the Pont Des Arts had been covered in gaudy yellow caution tape. In the hour and a half you'd been out, workers had begun pulling off rail sections of the love locked bridge.

You felt dizzy, was this a sign? The lock that you'd placed on it signifying your commitment was being taken away. Helpless you stood watching thousands of couples promise's to one another being disassembled.

Pulling your phone from your satin lined pocket your first instinct was to text Taehyung. 

Y/N: I can't believe it, they're dismantling the bridge and taking away our lock 💔 I'm so sad Taehyung, It really meant so much to me. 

Tears rolled down your cheek as you reevaluated the message. Instead of hitting send you deleted and replaced your words

Y/N: The bridge is under construction, maybe take a different way home later. 

You hadn't heard him come home and had no idea how late he'd been out. With sadness and worry getting the best of your brain, sleep seemed like the only way to curb your anxiety. It had been quite an effective method until you found yourself wide awake tiptoeing through your house in the wee hours of the morning. 

The worn floorboards creaked underneath your slow step, the vintage wood was cold to the touch of your bare feet. The old apartment was drafty on the best of days but 4 am carried its own specific type of chill.

A shiver ran up your spine, perhaps one of Le Marais famous revolutionary ghosts had joined in on the quest to find your boyfriend. Or maybe it was just the ominous feeling in the pit of your stomach that the universe was trying to tell you something. 

A faint light glowed yellow under the warped door at the end of the hallway and the sounds of Thelonious Monk's piano drifted through the air the closer you got. 

The painted metal door handle gave way opening to a wall of heat from the radiators lining the enormous windows. 

"Go figure I'd find you in the warmest room in the house."

He was shirtless and seemingly debating the fate of the canvas before him.  With his paintbrush clenched between his teeth he turned, a huge smile warming you instantly. 

"Why aren't you in bed?" He set the brush down and walked over to wrap you in his embrace. 

"I don't like sleeping without you, you're the only thing that keeps me warm in that freezer of a bedroom." 

You stood on your tiptoes to place a peck on his lips. 

"What are you working on? Is it for the gallery?" 

He sighed heavily, "Just another Lavender Field I guess. I'm so uninspired. Why won't you just let me paint you, hmm?" 

His fingers splayed over the lace covered small of your back pulling you in tighter. "What are you so afraid of."

"Tae," you buried your face into the crook of his neck. "Isn't the point of art painting things that people want to look at? You should be painting women like Camille not me."

Pressed to his chest you swear you heard his breath halt. He seemed to be choosing his words carefully before he spoke softly.

"Camille is pretty but there is absolutely nothing unique or inspiring about her."

He kissed the top of your head before tugging on your chin to make you look at him.

"You are the most beautiful woman in the world, but you are a terribly uncooperative muse." 

"I don't want to be Tae, I'm just afraid" 

"What is there to be afraid of? It's just you and me, If you don’t like it I'm the only one who will see it." 

"That's it though, what if…" a tear slipped from your eye, "What if you don't like what you see, what if painting me makes you see all my flaws. I can't stand looking in the mirror for 5 minutes and you want to immortalize my every imperfection on a canvas." 

His face was soft and serious, the lights from the city streaming through the large windows across his honey skin. 

"Sweetheart, how do I make you believe me? I never want you to be uncomfortable but I think if I can show you how you look through my eyes you'll understand what my heart sees every time I look at you.”

Stepping back from him you nodded. Sliding the thin straps off your shoulders you stepped out of the white lace puddle that now lay at your feet. 

"Okay." 

His face lit up like he'd received divine inspiration.

"I have an idea." 

He scurried for a palate, squeezing colors on it like a man possessed. Rummaging for the right brushes he returned presenting them to you like a cat who'd dragged home a mouse. 

"Trust me?"

You nodded, "I do." 

Loading his brush with paint you stood waiting for him to lay the first stroke to the oversize canvas leaning on the wall beside you. 

Raising the tool to his mouth he exhaled a warm breath over it as if trying to take the chill off.

"I've never seen this technique before" 

"It's because I've only just invented it." 

He ran the paintbrush down your torso sending a shiver from head to toe. 

You gasped, "You're not just painting me... you're literally painting Me?"

The biggest smile overtook his face, "You said you trusted me." 

Trying to remain still and not ask questions you watched him work. Diligently mixing colors and trading brushes his design slowly revealed itself. 

"Are you painting me as starry night?"

He stepped back to admire his work. "Like the stars, you guide and inspire me. I think it captures your spirit." 

He shifted the canvas so it was flat to the wall. 

"Come over here." He reached for your hand, "Are you ready? I want you to press yourself against it." 

"Here?"

Sliding in close behind you he raised your arms into position, holding them up.

"Like this, right here." 

His breath felt hot on your skin and your nipples hardened with his words. Gently he used his body weight to press you onto the canvas. 

"Now step back to me slowly." 

Pulling back, the paint had transferred to the canvas. It was stamped with starry breasts, stomach and thighs, it was you and it was beautiful. He dragged his lips down your shoulder as you stood looking at it.

"Now let's do the right side." 

You repeated the process but this time you could feel him growing hard against you. His hands trailed down your sides and his lips moved warm against your ear.

"You've never been sexier."

His rumbles of admiration set your insides on fire. 

"Taehyung I want you."

All the gentle brush strokes and touching had left you aroused aching for him to fill you. 

"Do you need me to take care of you baby?" 

He slid his cloth covered cock over your bare ass, grinding, teasing, slowly torturing your needy cunt. 

"Fuck you until you're screaming my name?" 

Sliding two long fingers deep inside you he held them there motionless. 

Leaning over you, dominating, he growled into your ear.

"Show me how you like it, fuck my fingers like you want to fuck my cock."

You clenched immediately around his digits and he laughed, "that's my dirty girl, now use me to make yourself feel good." 

Throbbing wet and desperate you used his hand to pleasure yourself. Harder and deeper it felt good but it wasn't him.  

"Tae, It's not enough I need your cock."

He snickered again, "why is that, maybe you should tell me." 

He reached his free hand around to pinch your nipple. 

The truth was, nothing could satisfy you once you'd had him inside you. He was huge and perfect and he knew how insatiable you were for him. 

"I need you to stretch me, wanna feel you against my cervix fucking me so hard."

You sounded whiny and it flipped the switch inside him from teasing to wanting instant gratification. 

Pulling his hand away from your breast he undid his pants and kicked them away. His erection fell against your ass as he pressed you back to the center of the canvas. 

"Right here, arms up for me." 

You did as you were told as he took a stance behind you lining himself with your entrance. He could be the most generous gentle lover when needed but right now you both wanted something animalistic and dirty. 

Thrusting hard and deep your whole body slid in an upward motion streaking the paint vertically onto the canvas. 

"Fuck."

It was pleasure, it was pain and it was satisfying to your core. 

"Is that enough for you?" His large hand feel heavy against your ass. 

"Harder." 

"Such a greedy little girl you are." 

Another thrust and you were seeing stars. Splayed across the canvas your cheek dragged through the midnight blue acrylic.

Trying to desperately catch your breath your mouth hung open panting the words fuck me and faster while he pumped furiously into you. 

His fingertips traveled from their grip on your hip to the protruding bud engorged with arousal that lay starved for attention between your thighs. He pressed and rolled your clit softly in contradiction to the rough pounding your pussy was taking. 

"Tae."

His name moaned out of your mouth and it was the only signal he needed to know he'd done his job. He slowed his hips and pulled you down impaling you onto his cock until your walls convulsed around him. He held you there, still for a minute until your senses had come back and you were able to stand on your own. 

His mouth hung open in a grin while his erection still stood hungry for more. 

Pulling the canvas from the wall he laid it on the ground. 

"I think this painting needs some pretty little knee marks on it."

"Show me where." It was your turn to tease. 

He pointed where he wanted you to kneel and shoved his finger into your mouth.

"Right there, and right here," he stroked your tongue with his thumb. 

He pulled his finger away and rubbed his tip around your lips. 

Opening up wide for him he gently began fucking your mouth. Head was always a challenge given his size so it was never rushed.

Gingerly you wrapped your hands around him stroking the length that didn't fit in your mouth. His head was thrown back, eyes closed as puffs of air heaved from his chest in pleasure. 

He was getting close, his now careless thrusts began making you choke around him.

"Fuck, sorry," he pulled back.

You kitten licked and sucked at his tip while he wrapped his hand tightly around himself and began rubbing. 

You looked up at him from the position on your knees. His beautiful body was covered in paint splatters everywhere it had connected with yours 

"Fuck Tae, I love watching you touch yourself." 

"Yeah?" he took a long stroke thumbing the tip. 

"Yeah," you could feel yourself getting worked up again. 

"Lay back. "He stood over you, "Can you see how beautiful I think you are now?" His hands wandered between his legs and he rubbed his balls with one while he resumed stroking with the other. "How sexy I think you are?" 

His words washed over you, arousal peaking you nipples. 

"When I can't find inspiration I imagine you just like this and I masturbate thinking about your perfect tits." 

Your pussy was pulsing at the thought of him in here clearing his head by milking himself. 

"Can you touch yourself for me? Give my imagination something to use next time I'm stuck in here?" 

You nodded, breath heavy in anticipation of cumming again for him. 

"Stick your fingers in your pussy for me." 

You did, moaning instantly. You were sensitive, every nerve was lit like a fuse ready to explode. Pumping your fingers in time with his strokes you were both unravelling quickly. 

His exasperated breathing got louder signaling his immanent release. Picking up speed he came in warm droplets that landed on you and over the canvas on which you lay. 

So turned on watching him you finished your own orgasm mere seconds after he did.

Opening his eyes looking down at you shocked he smiled, "Did we just do that?" He held out his hand to help you up. 

"Yeah, I think we did." you blushed.

Grabbing a clean drop cloth from the shelf he draped it around you as you both stood looking over the painting. 

"It's really not bad, I can still make out the important parts. The way the stars smeared looks intentional like their shooting through the sky." 

Laughing you shook your head, "It's definitely an abstract." 

"As are you," he turned you to the mirror. Painted cheeks, wild hair, dried yellow stars flaking off the skin of your stomach.

"Let's go out!” He abruptly declared. “I want to see you all messy and fucked out with the Eiffel Tower as a backdrop." 

"You're crazy Taehyung, What will people think?" 

"They'll think they're in Paris and that an artist and his muse just made wild passionate love in the wee hours of the morning because they couldn't stand to keep their hands off of one another."

He grabbed his coat from the corner and tied the belt tightly around your waist. 

Placing his hands on your cheeks and cradling your face his lips pressed and lingered against yours.

"They'll think, that must be what true love looks like and they’ll all be jealous."

Taking leisurely steps across the bridge the quiet of dawn was only broken by the water lapping beneath you. The absence of the locks amplified the little wakes and you tried to mentally record them as one of the many new memories you'd made tonight. 

Coffee in one hand and Taehyung's in the other. He pulled pieces of chocolatine from the bag tucked under his arm and fed them to you as you walked.

"I don't think I'm ever going to get over the fact you don't like coffee." You took a big sip. 

"It's strategic. If I had to hold a coffee and the pastry bag I wouldn't be able to hold your hand."

He stopped abruptly lightly jarring your arm. 

"Hey, Did you know that right here, this is the exact spot we first met."

His dark eyes reflected the lamplight just like they did as he looked at you that night.

"You were leaning over the rail," he pointed, "right here, waving to the passengers in the boats."

"Ughh, I was such a tourist." You laughed in retrospect. 

He took the coffee from your hand and set it on the base of the lamppost.

"Go pose for me, I want to take your picture so I can paint you from the night we met, I'll even add the locks back in."   

"It won't be the same." You sighed, "I'm covered in paint, my hair's a mess and all I have on is your trench coat."

"You're crazy if you think I don't remember everything about the way you looked. How that loose strand of hair fell," he tucked your hair behind your ear, "and still falls over your eye.  You had on that green sweater, I remember It was so soft against my fingertips when I reached out to hold your hand.” 

He kissed you and whispered, "Let me have that moment again." 

"You're such a hopeless romantic my love." You smiled fondly and obliged. Leaning over and looking down you re-enacted the opening scene of your meeting. 

After a few minutes of waving to an imaginary boat you turned giggling. "Did you get what you wanted?"

He was kneeling on the ground a few feet away looking pensive.

"Almost."

"Do you want me to do it again?"

His smile grew as his hand reached into his pocket and he held up what appeared to be a padlock. 

"No," He paused. "I want you and I to be locked together forever."

Turning back towards the rails you inspected them closely. "I don't think we can Tae, they pretty much made them lock proof." By the time you'd spun back to face him he was standing beside you. 

His large hand was wrapped around the lock with only little glimmers of metal peeking out.

"But this is a magic lock. I'm going to give you the key and you're going to have to make a decision, just like when we first met." He pressed the lock's pronged companion piece into your palm while simultaneously unfurling his fingers. 

"Marry me?"

Shocked floored, not even an ounce of intuition had told you this was coming. Hooked onto the shackle an enormous pear shaped diamond awaited your answer.

"Tae," your hand shook and tears blurred your vision as you moved to free the ring from it's restraint.

"Of course, Yes." Turning the key Taehyung pulled the lock apart and slid the diamond onto your finger.

Under the lamp, on the bridge in the middle of Paris it was like lightning had struck twice. You stood kissing the man who'd once again changed your life.

"But what are we going to do with the Lock?" The bridge was stark under the first rays of sunrise and heartbreakingly void of the promises it once guarded.

"So superstitious." He put the lock back in his pocket. "You're just going to have to hold on to that key until the time is right."

Fresh paint overwhelmed your senses. Guiding you with his large hands he steered you forward for what felt like forever.

"Is the blindfold necessary?"

"In order to surprise you, yes, yes it is."

He'd been working hard on his new exhibition and it had been kept tightly under wraps. One advantage of sleeping with the artist was the private advanced viewing from the curator himself.

"Are you ready?" he stilled you adjusting your angles. "Hold out your hand."

"Oh, it's an interactive piece?" you chided him. "I agree to do one painting and suddenly we're Marina and Ulay."

Placing something that felt like cool metal into your palm he slipped the blindfold off. 

Before your eyes stood a huge section of railing, thousands of padlocks adorning it. Behind the rail, a life size painting, a girl in a green sweater. Leaning forward she waved, looking happy, as her hair blew softly. Her eyes naïve, not knowing she was about to fall in love.

The words on the wall named the piece, "Locked"

"Tae," a tear fell in awe at his recreation. "You made me look beautiful."

"No mon petite, you make you look beautiful. Do you have your key?"

Lifting the chain from around your neck you held it up for him.

"Let's find our lock. It was closer to the top if I recall correctly."

"There's no way? This isn't a recreation? This is the real bridge?"

He laughed, "I know what it meant to you. They were selling pieces for charity. That's what I was really doing with Camille that day. She's a broker for the auction house."

The memory of your insecurities came back in a flash and your cheeks blushed pink at how foolish the notion of him straying seemed now.

"Here it is!" He crouched down holding it in his hand, your inked initials a little worn but still visible.

Slipping your key into the new lock you popped it open and knelt down beside him. Hooking it through the original it stood out higher than the rest and you both smiled.

"You're stuck with me now, triple locked." He fiddled with your ring suddenly shy.

"I don't need metaphors to know we'll be together forever Taehyung." You kissed his soft lips. "but I really like them."

The gallery had been taken over by a hum of excitement, the air hanging heavy, was full of compliments and bids. Everyone was clamoring for the chance to own a Kim Taehyung original.

You hadn't seen the man of the hour in a while. You'd been kept dutifully in one spot regaling everyone with the romantic story behind the girl waving on the bridge. 

Finally breaking away you grabbed a glass of champagne from the nearest waiters tray and made your way to the back of the gallery. He stood by a painting you'd yet to see with an eclectic looking woman in large red framed glasses. Her bangle bracelets chimed together as she theatrically asked him questions about his work.

Noticing you moving towards him, his face pleaded silently with you to come to his social rescue.

"Ah, the girl in the Green Sweater!" She pulled you into her side grabbing and holding your hand. "Are you also The Reluctant Muse?" she pointed to the secretly cum splatterd piece.

Taehyung held back his smile, biting his lip.

"Yes, I guess I am."

"The abstract way he displayed your body, it's very sexy. You know I used to be someone's muse." She patted the back of your hand. "From the size of this ring I'm guessing you're not nearly as reluctant anymore."

Knocking back your champagne you reached for another, "I'm currently working on lowering my inhibitions."

Focusing back on Taehyung she continued, "I simply have to have this painting, it reminds me so much of my younger days."

He shook his head to reinforce what he was about to say. "Unfortunately this one has already been curated to a private collection." He winked nodding discreetly in your direction.

"Don't be silly, I'll give you $20,000."

You choked on your drink surprised while he reiterated his statement.

"I'm sorry, It's just a very special painting to me."

You had to interject, "Let's not make any hasty decisions."

Taehyung raised a scolding eyebrow, "The piece is simply priceless, I've put too much of myself in it to sell." 

You smirked at his secret admission. "What if," feeling emboldened with confidence you put forth the suggestion, "we make it a series?"

Taehyung's eyes lit up as you explained.

"It'll be one of a kind, just for you madam."

Her bangles declared her excitement as she clapped. "Yes, I love that! But I have two conditions."

Leaning forward you both eagerly waited.

“I want extra splatters, I really like the way they look. And I'm going to need it finished in time for my party next week.”

Taehyung shook the woman's hand and grinned proudly at you.

"No problem, we'll start working on it tonight."

[stardustintheabyss]

BNHA Headcanon!

How Kaminari, Bakugo, Todoroki, Shinso, Dabi and Kirishima ask a certain question 💍 x fem!reader, y'all in your 20's

Warnings: cursing, long af(I couldn't help myself, I love all kiri's and non kiri's equally) no regrets.

Kaminari:

Haha boi proposed on the first date tbh

You laughed at one of his cheesy pick ups. You did you unrestrained 'ugly' laugh. Like someone has to make you reeeaaallllyyy laugh.

Bb fell hard for that laugh,"marry me, y/n"

You fell just as hard "alright"

Him blushing like crazy 👍🏻⚡👍🏻

Fast forward a few years

If you don't think he's gonna do something big and romantic and on the verge of embarrassing, lol your wrong

This guy proposes with a fucking flash mob

1. How did he organize this? Bakusquad unite!

2. How'd this beautiful loud blonde keep it to himself? Mina threatened his existence & Bakusquad

So there you both are surrounded by family and friends, Denki down on one knee, opening a small box with a gorgeous ring inside.

"Y/n, can I do you the honor of telling you pickup lines for the rest of our lives?"

*swoons*

"You, dummy."

He falters a little. Um what? Sad boi

"I told you on our first date I would." You leaned down giving him a kiss.

Bb shines brighter than the three great sunshines combined. Yk who

"I love you, y/n."

"I love you too, Denki."

Your guy's version of ily is some random pickup line unless your in a serious mood

Everyone collectively groaned at your guy's wedding vows lmao

They were literally all cheesy pickup lines, terrible puns and bad jokes.

Bakugo:

Bakugo fucking Katsuki is a closet romantic and you can't change my mind

He takes you hiking on one of your dates

You find a gorgeous spot accidentally you just had to take a short cut

Crystal clear lake w/ cherry blossom trees and a mt view? Heaven

This becomes your spot

You think nothing of it when katsuki suggests getting away for a weekend see romance

Getting in the car he throws a blindfold at you. "What's this for?"

"Just put it on idiot."

You roll your eyes, grinning like a fool but does what he asks

You drive for a bit then feel the car stop

"Can I take it off now?"

"No, I'll tell you when you can take it off." 😳 "I'm going to put noise cancelling headphones on you, do you trust me?"

You've learned to roll w/ his shenanigans cuz they are rare but always welcome. "Don't ask stupid questions, babe." Last thing you here is his 'tch'.

He gently tugs you out of the car and then sweeps you up into his arms. You can't help but smile.

He's been carrying you for at least 2hrs. "Kat, do you need a break?"

He just kisses you in response and silences you #1 hero bakugo doesn't do breaks

Al-righty then

Another hour goes by and you feel bakugo set you down softly, making sure you have your footing. He takes off the headphones

"Take off the blindfold."

You do. Your at your spot. You turn around to find your boyfriend toying w/a little black box

*heart palpitations ensue*

You look at him wide eyed.

He opens the box and you see a ring that is his mom's family heirloom. It's a vintage beauty that you've adored.

Tbh when he asked his mom for it he almost said never mind when she started asking a bunch of annoying questions.Old hag

"Will you marry me or whatever..." he's still bakugo lol

"Whatever." You say with the biggest grin

Bb narrows his eyes at you confused. "HUH?" Cuz how dare you???

"Saying 'yes' is too ordinary an answer. And you katsuki bakugo are anything but ordinary." You say as you slip the ring on your finger. Your man is stunned by your answer to do it himself. Lol

Just cuz you got him flustered and blushing does not mean he won't pull you into a passionate kiss.

Who's the mess now, dumb dumb?

Instead of saying 'I do' at the wedding you both say 'whatever'.

Nobody knows what the fuck is going on except kirishima because he's the one marrying you two.

Todoroki:

You've know eachother since high school and started dating your 3rd year

Now years later, your both well established pro heros

Did you say vacation?

Because Shoto heard 3 week romantic dream vacation w/ a proposal ending

He worked so hard for this. He didn't want to use his father's money for once. This was going to be all him, no one else.

Well except his mom and sister helped pick out a ring. Clueless bb

He took you to all the places on your bucket list, ending in greece.

It was your last night there.

On a cliff overlooking the moonrise over the sea, you were snuggled up next to him. Warm wind gently caressing your skin.

You've noticed him being antsy and fidgety the last couple days.

And that is not like your shoto, at all

"Sho, you okay? You've been acting weird." You ask gently.

"Um, yes. Can I ask you something?"

You give him a kiss and nod.

"Would you do me the honor of becoming mrs. shoto todoroki?"

At least that's what you thought he said. He was so nervous it came out a jumbled mess.

He pulled a ring out of his pocket.

It was perfect. In fact it was exactly what you and fuyumi talked about in one of your guy's games of crazy hypotheticals. Haha jokes on you

You definitely started crying

Your sweet oblivious sho "If you don't like it-"

"No. It's perfect, I love it. Just like you." You pepper his face with kisses. "And yes I will marry you."

He has the biggest smile on his face as he takes your hand and slides the ring on.

You thought the Todorokis and your family were chaotic before? Lol let's throw in wedding planning 🙃

Two months before the wedding you two are sick of everything. Everyone trying to do everything the way they want this wedding. You both wanted a somewhat small gathering. Yeah no *insert monamas hysterical laugh*

Elope? Elope.

You gather a small group of your closest friends. Ok. More like all of class 1a

Shoto buys first class tickets to greece for everyone. No qualms of using his dad's credit card this time lol

SHOTOOOOOOOOO!!!

You and shoto get married in front of all your friends on the cliff where he proposed.

It was beatiful & perfect. Exactly what you guys wanted.

So when the 'real' wedding (endeavors words) happens you and shoto fuck with it any way you can.

You both have the best time messing around. Your guy's parents not so much. But they end up seeing how happy you both are so they give up on having the perfect wedding.

A few years later when you find out your pregnant you both seriously debate faking your deaths and going into hiding. Wouldnt be the first Todoroki to do so

Shinso:

You guys frequently visit the animal shelter to give loves to all the animals

He saw how attached you were with a bonded pair of ragdoll kittens he loved them too

This gave him an idea, he had been having a hard time of thinking how he was going to pop the question

It was pur-fect don't judge me

It was early in the morning, you were still in bed when you felt something tickle your nose

"Mmh,...toshi. Your hair is tickling me." Still sleepy, not even bothered to open your eyes.

You were greeted w/ small meows

Your eyes never snapped open so fast in the morning

Two tiny kittens before you. The ones from the shelter

Wide awake now you began petting them and playing with them

Haha shinso who?

He was silently watching from the doorway smiling, waiting for his moment

You looked at the kittens collars. Scribbled in shinsos handwriting "marry" on one "me" on the other.

You gasped and your mouth formed a little o.

He was waiting for this. He walked over and got on his knee, ring in his hand

"Y/n, please, will you be mine, forever?"

Leaning in lips almost touching "only if you'll be mine."

Say no more, boi is putting a ring on it and closes the gap between your lips.

The only thing that breaks the kiss is a soft tiny paw patting your cheek and another playing with shinos hair

You giggle. "You got them for yourself just as much, didn't you?"

He just rubs the back of his neck and gives you a smirk

You spend the rest of the day trying to pick names.

You guys decide on satori & kotaro haikyuu reference ftw

The day ends. You come to find your two new bbs sleeping on a sleeping hitoshi a miracle ikr

A photo shoot? Hell yes! Dadzawa needs to see this.

You take the pic and send a quick text along with it to Aizawa. Your future f-in-l. 'Guess how toshi proposed?'

You get a quick response "I'm a grandpa now? I get them twi-three times a month."

Your snort woke your fiance

Him seeing your phone. "Did you take a picture of me? Creep."

"No." You say slyly. "I took a picture of my boys." You show him. As you set it as your wall paper.

"Send it to me please." You do, what you don't expect is a pic in return from him

It was of you in bed the s'morning. With your new kittens, kotaro and satori, before you even knew they were there. also his wallpaper

And damn if you don't smile "who's the creep?"

"What's this text from my dad about 'custody of his grandchildren'?"

You laugh and explain

Yes you had your cats in the wedding. They started all this yk.

They were ring barers. Complete w/little tuxes shinso insisted

Lmao it was like the hunger games when deciding who was going to take care of the cats when on your honeymoon.

Shota won obviously

"They are staying w/their grandfathers and that is final." *scary hair whoosh*

Dabi:

When you joined the LoV, you confused dabi.

You were kind and caring to everyone. Wtf?

Even when they didn't deserve it

Why are you with the villians? Are you stupid?

That is until he saw the rage and hurt in your eyes the first time you fought together.

It reminded him of himself

Of how he got where he was

Slowly you had unconsciously worked your way into his heart

You caring for his wounds(new and old), your soft smiles and warm eyes. You never looked at him with disgust, fear or malice.

You were the first to ever do so in a long long time. Since his childhood.

He never wanted to fall in love but here was fate pushing you two together.

You fell just as slowly. You thought you were never really worthy of love. But it didn't stop you from giving it to those around you. Loophole you thought.

But you would find dabi doing little things. Things that made you feel something you shouldn't. Things you didn't think you deserved.

Throwing a blanket over you if you fell asleep on the couch.

Getting your favorite snacks

During fights he would casually move between you and your enemies. Protecting you.

Well shit here you both were. Madly in love, but still apprehensive.

But when he asked you to call him by another name and you did?

That's when dabi kissed you for the first time. It shocked you both tbh

It wasn't rough like you had imagined. But soft and sweet. Nothing like the mask he wears for everyone.

After about 8 months of dating dabi realized he wanted to be yours forever. And you his.

So fuck proposing. He did a surprise wedding. He didn't want to give you chance to change your mind. because insecure bb🥺

He got everything ready.

Now he just needed you

Their was a beautiful knee length white lace dress laying on your bed with a note "meet me here. Kurogiri will warp you.-t"

Running your fingers over the dress, you smiled. You always did like surprises from him.

You got yourself ready for your date with the love of your life and went to find kurogiri.

He met you with a blindfold that matched dabi's eyes

"He requested you wear this."

You nodded and let him tie it on

Next you thing know you feel dabi's warm hand in yours.

"You ready, doll?" You can hear the smirk in his voice.

"Until the end, babe."

He slips off the blindfold

You're in a forest with twinkle lights strewn about and a blue flamed candle walkway to a beautiful arch covered in your favorite flowers. Your closest leauge friends are here too.

"Will you let me stand by your side, until the end?"

You gently cup his cheeks in your hands, brushing your lips against his. Whispering for no one else to hear

"Yes, toya. For you, even longer."

He doesn't even need to smirk. You can see the overwhelming happiness in his eyes.

When you say your I do's surprisingly enough all your friends have happiness written on their face too. Even shiggy

The next day he gets a new piercing on his ring finger and you a small blue flame tattoo on yours.

Kirishima:

You've had eijirou kirishimas heart since your first year of UA together

One day he was feeling insecure about his quirk and you showed up changing the way he saw himself.

"Kirishima, you're the unbreakable Red Riot. It's not about how flashy a heros quirk is, it's about their resolve. Your tenacity to protect and save people..." you smile, "if that isn't the making to be a great hero I don't know what is."

And tbh he had yours since that 1st yr too. You always admired his courage & his dedication to his friends even if they didn't want it cough bakugo

For two years you both danced around your feelings for eachother. Flirting but never taking the next step.

That is until bakugo not mina, & yes shes jealous she wasn't the one that set you 2 up got fed up one night of your guys flirting.

And I quote "Oi! Would you two go on a fucking date already. I'm tired of listening to shitty hair pine after you." he did out of love for his bestie

It was the only time you've genuinely seen kirishima want to kill bakugo

Shyly you answered, "I'd like that."

Bb turned his head around so fast he almost got whiplash.

You've been together 5yrs now and it was your birthday. Kirishima wanted to make it extra special.

A picnic in your favorite park, he was lucky your bd was at the same time as the cherry blossoms blooming. You loved them.

Setting up the picnic kirishima reminisced.

It was your favorite park because that's where your first date was. It was unusually hot. He got you both popsicles.

It was the first time he had seen you eat one. *crunch crunch*

boy was staring, shook

You blushing "I know, people say it's weird to eat popsicles like that."

"I dont think so." He smiled as he crunched his own. Must be fate.

Now here you two were cuddled laying down on a blanket, your head placed on his chest and his hand around your waist. Finished with lunch

"Thanks for the birthday lunch, babe. I loved it." You sighed contentedly.

What you didn't notice is that he was fiddling with a little red box. "Its not quite over yet. I have one more thing." He sat you both up and looked deeply into your eyes with so much love. " Y/n you-"

Just then a downpour of rain happened.

Kirishima scrambled to pick up the picnic supplies. His hair beginning to fall from its signature style

He turned to grab your hand to pull you under cover. So manly

You were a few feet away. Your eyes closed and head tilted back. A warm smile on your face. Letting the rain wash over you.

He'd never seen anything so beautiful

Picnic supplies forgotten. He knelt in front of you on one knee. He grabbed your hand with one of his.

You opened your eyes and looked down at your eiji. Your rock, your home.

"Y/n, you give me the strength to be unbreakable. Would you make me the happiest man on earth and marry me?" He opened the little red box.

Your heart beating as wildly as his

Inside was the most beautiful ring. It held your favorite gemstone. Long ago in hs you and mina were doing girl talk while the guys played video games. You'd told her diamond engagement rings were lame and what you preferred.

He remembered? That was before you were even dating...

You smiled through happy tears "yes eijirou, yes I'll marry you."

"There's an inscription." He said softly.

You looked closer at the ring, even after 7 years of loving him he still found ways to make your heart flutter

'forever unbreakable'

"Oh, Ei, it's perfect."

He slipped it on you and pulled you into a kiss. "Let's get you out of this rain. Wouldn't want you to get sick." we stan a gentlemanly king

"Just a little longer, I hear rain is good luck for this type of thing." You wave your newly ring adorned hand.

"Anything for you." He whispered before kissing you again.

You've never loved the rain more

The wedding day came

You stood before the love of your life and he his

You slide his wedding band on

Engraved inside

'my rock, my home'

"Now the bride." said the person marring you.

"Here you go shitty hair." Said the best man, handing kirishima the ring.

Did you think bakugo wouldnt want to be best man? Haha he's the one that got you two together your welcome or whatever

Kirishima tenderly slipped the ring on your finger.

Of course it decided to pour just then

Everyone ran for cover but you two

Bakugo, "tch, those idiots are going to be sick for their honeymoon." he cares ok

Mina sighing, "so romantic."

You tilted your head to the sky laughing, "babe, the universe is wishing us good luck."

He gently grabbed your chin, making you look at him. "guess we were meant to be." He whispered as he pulled you in for a long passionate kiss in the rain, him still making your heart stutter.

[allicekitty13]

Trick Or Treat

Read On Ao3

Read On FFN

Alice has to take her little sister trick or treating, Jasper has a surprise in store.

Friday, October thirtieth

It was Friday afternoon, and Alice Brandon was impatiently waiting for her final period math class to end. She chewed absentmindedly on her bottom lip in anticipation while tapping the eraser end of a pencil against her desk, eyeing the clock hanging above the classroom door with frequent glances. She wordlessly willed the arms to move faster when she was finally granted reprieve as the bell rang, indicating the end of the school day.

Alice swiftly gathered up her books, shoving them messily into her messenger bag before she fled from the classroom, making a break for her locker. Today wasn't just any Friday; it was October thirtieth. The day before her favorite holiday, Halloween. She'd felt a surge of energy from the excitement all day, causing her to be distracted and restless. All she wanted was to go home, put the finishing touches on her costume, and sit back for her yearly marathon of vintage monster movies after Cynthia went to bed. 

She fumbled through her locker, taking little consideration into what items she placed into her backpack, totally enraptured within her own world. She was so preoccupied with her own excitement that she didn't notice when Jasper leaned against the locker next to her own.

"Hey, Alice." He greeted, causing her to jump in shock.

"Whitlock." She responded, hand over her heart as she steadied her breathing after the slight scare.

"You know... you sure scare easy." 

"Don't sneak up on me, then jerk." Alice playfully shoved him in the chest with a giggle. "What's up anyway?" 

"Perhaps I just wanted to talk to my favorite accomplice?" 

She smiled slightly at the moniker, excited about the idea of pulling off an elaborate prank with Jasper and Emmett. "You've got a hells night prank planned then?" 

"Maybe," He tucked a stray hair behind her ear. "Maybe I just wanted to hang out with you."

Alice was mildly disappointed by the revelation that there would be no pranking tonight as well as annoyed by the continuing game of flirting they played.

It had started out as a fun joke between the pair back in middle school, but Alice had begun to develop actual feelings for Jasper over time. The flirting, always just a game, never anything more, was starting to make her heart ache.

She slammed her locker shut in annoyance before leaning her head against the cool metal as she looked up at Jasper. "What do you actually want, Jazz." 

Jasper looked away from her and took a deep breath before answering, "Are you going to Rosalie's party tomorrow night?" He seemed nervous, but Alice assumed it was her imagination. There was no reason for the popular Jasper Whitlock to be anxious about a party. 

"Oh, I'm actually taking my little sister trick or treating tomorrow. We're going to watch some movies after; it should be a good time... Have fun, though; maybe I'll see you at the next one."

"But you love parties?"

"If I don't take Cynthia, no one else will." 

"Oh..." 

"It's okay," She cut him off. "I'll make the next party." With that, she walked away. Yes, she loved parties, but she loved her sister more. She wondered why Jasper was making a big deal out of the whole thing.

"Do you want a ride home?" Jasper asked, having followed her outside into the school parking lot.

"Isn't my place a bit out of the way?"

"Normally, yeah, but I need Emmett's help with something, and since your place is along the way." He gestured west in the general direction of both the Brandon and McCarty households as they approached the spot where he'd parked his truck. "It's not a big deal. Do you want the ride or not?"

Alice shrugged as she opened the vehicle's passenger's side door; she threw in her bag and attempted to climb in. After a few short seconds of struggling, Jasper came around, picked her up, helping her inside. 

"You know, I could have done it myself." She glowered at him in a huff when he got in the car himself.

"Of course, but I don't have all night if I'm gonna make this work." His words were distant, as though he had something urgent he needed to get done. 

"Make what work?"

"That my darling is proprietary information that cannot be released to the general public at this time." He flashed her that charming smile of his that made her melt.

"You can tell me I won't spill. Pinky promise."

"Nope, this one is between me and Emmett." 

"Fine, I'll just ask him what trouble you're getting yourself into this time."

"Not a prank." He smirked in her direction with a side-eye. 

"What could the two of you possibly be up to that doesn't involve chaos and ending up grounded for at least a week?"

"I can't tell you." He grinned at her as he pulled up in front of her house.

"I hate you."

"You know you love me."

Her heart skipped a beat at the comment as they locked eyes, the air feeling suddenly thick with tension. "Maybe I do, maybe I don't. That is proprietary information." She finally joked with a mischievous smile as she threw his own words back at him before grabbing her bag and jumping out of the vehicle, gently closing the door behind her. 

Jasper rolled down the passenger's side window shouting out in amusement. "That hurts, Brandon." 

Alice rolled her eyes with a smile before blowing him a kiss as she ran inside.

"ALICE!" Cynthia shouted upon her entrance, tackling her in excitement. 

"Hey, kiddo." 

"Come, look what I made!" The ever excited eight-year-old tugged on her older sister's hands, pulling her over to the kitchen table where construction paper and crayons were strewn about the surface. "Esme helped me make a map of town so we can move faster and get ALL the candy." 

"Yes, she did," The woman in question entered the dining room with a bowl of steaming macaroni and cheese. "But, it's time to put your art supplies away and eat your dinner."

"Hey, Esme." Alice greeted her sister's nanny as she helped Cynthia gather up her crayons. "Did mom get called into the hospital?"

The older woman nodded in affirmation as she gathered her belongings. "Yes, and don't you dare say you'd have come home sooner if you knew. Cynthia is your sister, not your daughter; I don't mind watching after her while you spend time with your friends." 

"Thanks, Esme, tell Eddy I said hi, and I can't wait to see his Romeo costume in action." 

"Of course, sweetie." Esme paused at the door. "Are you sure you don't want me to take Cynthia tomorrow so you can go to Rosalie's party?"

"Yeah, there's plenty of parties. Cynthia only gets so many Halloweens to trick or treat. We'll have fun."

"Okay, goodnight Alice. You've got my number if you change your mind." With that, Esme took her leave.

Alice remained in the hall momentarily to reflect on life; her parents had split up four years ago. While it had been the best thing for the family, Esme had a point. Alice stepped up immediately without being asked to help care for her sibling, with her mother spending much of her time at the hospital working as a nurse. She loved her sister more than anyone, but maybe she should put herself first more. Deciding those were thoughts for another time, Alice ventured back into the dining room, where Cynthia was finishing her dinner. After cleaning up, she helped the younger girl finish up her homework as she finalized the last details on their costumes. 

Around nine, Alice noticed Cynthia, who had long since finished her word search on the solar system, was starting to drift off to 'The Wolf Man' DVD Alice had put on the TV. "I think it's time for bed, little miss."

"I'm not sleepy." Cynthia yawned.

"I beg to differ, come one." She scooped up the tired girl carrying her to her room and setting her on the bed.

"Are we gonna watch movies tomorrow?"

"Of course, silly." Alice reached out to ruffle the younger girls' hair. "It wouldn't be Halloween without 'The Great Pumpkin' now would it."

"And will you make those sugar cookies with the ghosts on them?"

"We're going to have cookies with ghosts and pumpkins. But," Alice reached over to switch off the lamp sitting on the table next to Cynthia's bed. "You have to go to sleep so it can be tomorrow." she grabbed her sister's favorite cat plush off the floor. Cynthia took the stuffed toy squeezing it tightly to her chest with a sleepy smile.

"Night Alice."

"Goodnight, little sister." Alice pecked the top of the girl's head before pulling the blankets over her sister. 

Saturday, October thirty-first

"Alice, hurry up! We're going to miss all the candy if you keep taking forever!" Cynthia stood in the doorway of Alice's room, hands on her hips. She donned the Ariel costume she'd impatiently put on three hours ago to her sister's protest. Rather than purchasing off looking costumes from Target, Alice had opted to make both of their costumes herself that year and consequently was protective of her work.

"I'm finished, you hyper little mermaid," Alice responded, capping her lipstick and giving her hair one final check in the mirror; satisfied with her work, she donned the tiara, completing her look as Rapunzel at the end of Tangled. 

"What do you think?" She asked, doing a little twirl for Cynthia.

"You look JUST like Rapunzel! Now let's GOOOOO." 

"Okay, okay." Alice straightened out her sister's red wig that had been knocked off-kilter during a round of hide and seek with Bella, who'd been kind enough to look after the girl before heading to Rosalie's party while Alice got dressed. 

"But first." She pulled out her phone from one of the hidden pockets she'd sewn into the skirt of her dress and crouched down to Cynthia's level. "Pictures for mom." They snapped a few poses before an impatient Cynthia had enough, grabbed her bag, then dragged her sister out the door. 

They went to a few houses before ending up three doors down at The Cullen's, where Carlisle and Esme had a king-size Kit-Kat waiting for Cynthia, who took the candy excitedly; happy to pose for yet another photo in exchange. They made their goodbyes, making their way back to the streets.

The siblings had been out for an hour, hitting up every house with a light on collecting candy when they reached the impeccably decorated Hale residence. Alice beamed with pride, noting a few projects she'd worked on for Rosalie in art class as they made the trek up the path to the door. 

Cynthia had hardly just rung the bell when the door opened to reveal Emmett dressed as Gomez Addams. "Alice! Cynthia! My favorite Disney princesses." He pulled a candy bowl from a table sitting by the door. "Rosalie said only two pieces, but I think you deserve a handful." 

Cynthia excitedly reached out to grab as much candy as her small hand could hold but was shushed by Emmett. "No, not a Cynthia handful." He reached into the bowl filling up his own much larger hand to overflowing proportions, and dropped the exuberant amount of candy into her bag. 

"Did I hear you say, Alice and Cynthia?" Rosalie exclaimed, appearing seemingly out of thin air beside Emmett. Alice had no idea how she'd done it but appreciated Rosalie's commitment to her part as Morticia. "You guys should come in for a second." Rosalie beckoned the pair inside by dramatically reaching out a hand palm up and curling her fingers inward. 

"I don't know..." Alice looked down at her eight-year-old sibling. "Cynthia probably wants to hit up some more houses and increase her candy stash." 

"Nope," Cynthia gaze up at her sister with a devilish grin. "I wanna go inside. Emmett will give me lots of candy. Please, Alice, let me show your friends my costume." 

"Yeah, Alice, please?" Emmett chuckled as he leaned against the doorframe holding a full unopened bag of candy. 

"Fine, but just for a second." She relented, pulling Cynthia behind her as she walked past Rosalie into the crowded entry hall as Emmett slipped the full bag of candy into Cynthia's bag.

Bella, now fully decked out in a Juliet costume, spotted the pair as they entered into the crowded home, immediately ending her conversation with Leah, who was dressed as Pikachu to come over and greet the pair. "Hey guys, you made it! Have you gotten lots of candy?" 

"Emmett gave me a big bag of candy, and Esme gave me a whole entire big Kit-Kat bar." 

"How nice of Emmett." Rosalie glared at her boyfriend, who wore a sheepish expression.

"Rosalie, mon amour. Please forgive me." He dramatically threw an arm over his eyes. 

"I suppose I can let this one slide. For dear Cynthia's sake."

"Cara Mia!" Emmett exclaimed, grabbing Rosalie's arm pecking kisses from wrist to shoulder. Alice had to admit, The Addams Family costume idea suited the couple perfectly. 

"Alice darling, you should go mingle while you can. Let me take care of our lovely little mermaid for a moment."

"You don't have to, Rose."

"I insist, my dear." She waved her hand dismissively in Alice's direction. "Now go."

Confident that her sister was safe being doted on by her friends, Alice relaxed, allowing herself to enjoy the party as much as possible in the short amount of time she would be there. She made her way through the large house. Stopping to chat occasionally with friends, receiving compliments on her outfit. She laughed at some dad jokes from a zombie Eric as witch Angela rolled her eyes from his side. Complimented Jake, who donned an extremely impressive hulk costume.

Eventually, she found herself at the back of the room where a snacks and drinks table was set up. Mike and Jessica, dressed as Woody and Bo-Peep respectively, stood talking to Jasper, who, to Alice's shock, was not dressed as a cowboy despite wearing the same costume every year since childhood. In fact, he seemed to be dressed as... Flynn Rider.

Unable to believe her eyes, she tapped him on the shoulder with a raised eyebrow. "No cowboy costume?" 

Jasper stiffened at the comment, slowly turning around with blushing cheeks. "Yeah... I wanted to do something different this year."

"Okay, but Flynn Rider? You definitely fit the part, but I didn't take you as a Tangled fan." 

"ohmygosh." Jessica piped in before Jasper could defend his costume choice. "Flynn and Rapunzel, you guys like... match. It's too cute." 

"Isn't it crazy!" Jasper responded a bit too excitedly. "How Alice and I randomly got matching costumes. What a coincidence!"

"Yeah, definitely a coincidence." Alice crossed her arms. "What's going on here, Jasper?" 

Unfortunately, once again, the pair were interrupted, this time by Bella and Cynthia. "I'm ready to leave, Alice." The youngest of the pair bounced up to her sister. 

"Wait a second! Is Japer dressed like Flynn!" Cynthia's eyes widened in joy at the realization turning her attention to the tall man who appeared extremely uncomfortable with all the attention. "Jasper! You've gotta come trick or treating with me and Alice."

"I don't think Jasper wants to go trick or treating Cynthia." Bella giggled at the child's outburst.

"But he has too!" Cynthia crossed her arms and stamped a foot on the ground. "He matches Alice!" 

"I'll go." The man in question cast a nervous side grin at the sisters. "Who am I to deny the request of princess Ariel. Besides, I haven't been trick or treating in years. It'll be fun."

"You really don't have to." Alice turned to look at him with apologetic eyes. "She'll get over it as seen as she gets more candy."

"Nope, I'm going. Come on, Alice." 

The now trio made their goodbyes to the party guests and made their way back to the streets. 

To his credit, Jasper did a great job keeping up with Cynthia's high energy as she dashed from house to house. Alice smiled happily, watching her crush happily interact with the most important person to her. The scene caused her heart to flutter as he fell for him just a bit more. 

"So," She'd asked as Cynthia made her way through the first floor of an apartment complex. "Are you going to explain yourself?"

"Explain what?"

"Why you're dressed like Flynn Rider?"

"Do I have to?"

"I would like to know the answer, yeah."

"Okay, um." He abashedly placed a hand behind his head. "So, I know this is your favorite holiday and all. Because of the pranks and scares and wanted to..."

"Alice! Jasper! I got all the apartments we can go now!" Cynthia appeared, cutting him off. The small mermaid grabbed both of their hands and pulled them out the door back to the streets to continue the candy hunt. 

Alice tried at every opening to find out what Jasper was going to say. Unfortunately, Cynthia cut the moment short every time. Turns out, it's tough to figure out why your best friend is acting weird when you're trick or treating with an eight-year-old.

After another two hours of candy collecting, they were nearing the end of their journey. They'd run out of houses, consequently resulting in Cynthia's excited energy wavering as they made the way back to the Brandon residence. When the group was a few blocks from their destination, the two teenagers noticed Cynthia started getting tired. Alice was getting ready to assure her they were almost home when Jasper surprised her by asking the younger girl if she wanted a piggyback ride. The smaller girl was elated by the idea and readily agreed. 

The action made Alice happy; she loved that he was willing to be so kind and placate her little sister. He really was a great guy, even if he rarely let others see; she felt lucky to witness the sweet moment. After everything she'd witnessed that night, her heart fluttered at the idea that maybe... just maybe it was all for her.

Once they'd reached the girl's home, Jasper swung Cynthia off his back and set her back down gently. "That was fun!" She'd exclaimed.

"Okay, little one. Run along inside so I can talk to Jasper for a second." Alice nervously instructed her sibling. 

"Alice and Jasper sitting in a tree." The girl had begun to sing the popular children's rhyme between giggles.

Alice swiftly but gently clapped a hand over Cynthia's mouth in a panic, finishing the classic rhyme with her own edit. "B E D T I M E." She chuckled awkwardly as she picked up her offended sibling. "I'll be right back, just gotta take Ariel inside." 

"But The Great Pumpkin and cookies!" Cynthia protested as Alice sat her back down inside the house. "It can't be bedtime yet!" 

"We'll do those things, Cynth, I promise. I've just gotta tell Jasper goodbye first. Go put on pajamas." Shooting her sister a warning look, she jogged back outside where Jasper was still waiting under the tree. 

"Okay, Mr., there's no more little kid to interrupt you. Please tell me what this is all about." She crossed her arms over her chest, determined to get answers this time. 

He took a deep breath and stared at his feet. "I was going to ask if you'd go with me to Rose's party... like as my date. But you had to take your sister trick or treating, and I know how important she is to you. So... god, I feel so stupid."

"So what, Jas?"

"Emmett said I should do a couples costume with you as a surprise and when you guys stopped by to trick or treat at Rosalie's comment on what a funny coincidence it was and leave with you. But then everyone was watching us, and I got nervous because I really like you. I know we play that stupid flirting game all the time but I kind of really want to go out with you..."

"Why didn't you just... ask if you could come with?" 

"Emmett said I needed a big romantic gesture."

"Why would you listen to Emmett?"

"I'm an idiot?" She shot her an embarrassed smile. 

"You're lucky; I like idiots."

"You do?" He looked hopeful.

"Yepp, at least I like the kind of idiot who does something as sweet as dressing up as a character from one of my favorite movies and goes trick or treating with my sister just because he wants to spend my favorite holiday with me." As ridiculous as his actions were, she really did find the gesture sweet. 

"That's the kind of idiot I am!"

 "So here's what you're going to do. You're going to call me tomorrow, and you're going to ask me if I want to go get a coffee with you. I'm going to say yes, and you're going to take me to that shop on main street that I like."

"Did you just plan a date I haven't asked you on yet? How do you know I'll even call you?" He was teasing her now. 

Alice stood on her tippy toes to peck jasper on the cheek... or rather the lower jaw as even at the highest she could stretch, she still couldn't actually reach his cheek. "Goodnight, Jasper; I'll see you tomorrow." With that, she skipped back into the house.

[sereisstuff]

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚔𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜 4

Demon!Taehyung x chubby reader

Intro -  you accidentally summoned the prince of darkness and now he wants something in return, so he makes you his fiance to trick his father Hades into giving him the crown

summary - Taehyung embarks on a journey to get the potion that will mask your mortality, but he prefers to do other things during the day.

(A/N) - I finally updated yay!! this literally made me contemplate a bunch of shit so it took me hours on end to finish but for you guys, I managed.

!!ENJOY!!

Taehyung didn’t stop following you around wreaking havoc across the playground that plagued your thoughts, he cast aside your frustration and toyed with it in amusement using anything against your whim to force a reaction out of you.

he was here in search of a spell to cover up any sign of mortality that stuck to you like a leech, and of course to brighten his day the young demon decided to use you as his little puppet, constant desires spread like wildfire and Taehyung was the cause.

“I can feel your tension, darling” he advanced to you, you curled your hands into tight fist rolling your eyes in the process, frustration gripped your insides as you glared at the man “touch me and your dead” he paused looking at you with a suggestive stare.

taking the saying with a hint of lust “now that would be fun to see, my little mortal pet” he teased sitting bored on the chair that laid sprawl as a decoration in your home, you should have thanked him for returning you home last night.

but you could only avoid his eyes when he made his appearance, last night wasn’t something you would occasionally do, remembering the hot wave of heat his body gave off amid your dropping warmth you could only snuggle up against him for your own life to be saved.

or so that's what you wanted to think.

“I'm not your pet” you growled, throwing on a pair of shoes to leave the home, not warning Taehyung knowing he, himself would follow anyways. he made it his job to annoy you the entire day and he always completes his missions.

“oh, you're leaving great, now we can both go see that witch” Taehyung followed closely behind you making you want to pull your strands, sucking in a deep breath letting the air course through your lungs as you imagined positive energies flowing through you pushing out the negative.

“I'm going alone” you snapped, wanting to push him out of view but locked your aggressive thoughts into a cage of suppression, now was not the time and by the looks of it, demi gods definitely underestimated the strength of a mortal especially the mortal standing in front of him.

“you're cute when your angry” he flirted, you held the bridge of your nose to calm yourself harshly slapping your sides when you let them go “fine, where to” The ethereal man interlocked your hands with his own, placing a hand on your forehead.

“Remember to breathe,” he said, you had no time to reply before a bright red unnoticeable flame embraced you both consuming your forms to place you elsewhere in the world, dropping you in the middle of a forest.

you coughed loudly regaining your composure, running towards a tree to help you stand “I told you to breath didn’t i” he said with curiosity and an undertone of laughter, poor mortals.

“I'm this close to summoning hade’s to drag your ass back to where you came from” you choked on your words, whatever Taehyung did stop you from breathing for what felt like centuries being able to breathe again made you feel like a fish out of water.

He chuckled “Darling that old man can’t step on earth, and I came from my mother-” you stopped him before he could carry out that sentence “okay, I get it can we please just get this over and done with” you complained following him to the destination.

on the journey, you admired the birds feeling blissful being able to catch their melodies as you walked aimlessly through the forest staring up into the trees hearing the universe speak to you for a few seconds.

“need I warn you about the witch, she can be a bit how should I put this” Taehyung searched for answers, not wanting to degrade his former witch but at the same time wanted to inform you about her ways “-normal”.

you laughed sincerely from the rawness of your tone “none of this is normal if you didn't notice, I'm currently carrying out a deal with the son of Hades and you warn me that she’s not normal.”

“I guess we won’t have any hiccups then” he cheerfully said, waltzing into the shaggy home. upon entering you noticed the walls full of paintings the home having many succulent plants dangling from every wall, corner and inch of this home, the home felt light in a sense that you felt welcome in away.

“Taehyung dear” a youthful voice called through the home, taehyung hoped you wouldn’t act weird but unlike him, you weren’t familiar to his ways as you eyed every bit of the home in admiration, 

“I could see you coming this way and already had prepared your wish” the door squeak causing you to wait on edge for the woman to make her appearance, she steeped out slowly in vintage clothing, her curly locks bouncing with every step she took.

in her hand she held a small bottle of purple substance, she hadn’t looked up yet but there was no need to she already knew of you and your purpose so all she could do was pray to her deities for the best “make sure she swallows it all”.

“I could say that in two ways if she likes-” 

Taehyung glanced at you choking back a form of laughter “but sure, I'll make sure she does, thank you very much” the young woman looked at you with eyes black as night itself, you jolted back in fear not wanting to cause any informality you hesitated to introduce yourself but she held her hands up.

“its okay dear, I wish you all the best for what’s to come” you frowned at her saying, what's to come what does she mean??.

she left the room without another word uttered, shuffling back to her chambers where she finished off some business of her own leaving you once again alone with the young demon and now multiplied with a train of confused thoughts.

“can we go now” you stood from your place heading for the exit.

“I thought we should have a bit of fun, anyways you’ve done nothing but bore me the last few days a drink or two won't be a crime” he suggested running a hand through his hair, you both eyed your outfit grimacing at the attire you would be the center of attention if you went and for all the wrong reasons.

“no” you sternly replied leaving the home with new dominant energy. searching the forest for a way out but it only seemed to lengthen your walk amongst its people, the dazzling man groaned behind you. putting his hands to rest in his pockets so he could tail behind you.

“rejection isn’t much of my thing so could we maybe do something more appealing to one's excitement” you stiffened turning to face him when you realized the only way out of here was to jump with him out of it.

“fine if you can get us out of here” you instantly regret your words when you watched how brightly his eyes shone in anticipation, and instead of teleporting you both home. bright flashing lights blind your eyes as you've come to a realization that you're now at a party full of demigods and rich people.

“now we, my little mortal pet are here to convince the others of our-” he lifted his hands to make air quotes, “-marriage” you blushed at the thought, gagging as you realized what you did, today wasn’t very fond of your emotions and now you had no idea how to react to them.

you groaned “Please stop with the pet names”

“sure, for now, I will. but act like your my fiance” you nodded to his question, you both walked through the area full of people easily like fluid through the party. people came up to you and questioned your existence beside him many wishing you good luck which you mentally noted.

Taehyung offered you a drink, but in a state of anxiety, you denied his offerings as he shrugged his shoulders downing it himself. he moaned in pleasure closing his eyes to enjoy the taste. forgetting that a mere mortal was in his presence dark red hues stared at you with uncontrollable fury.

“I'm surprised my dear cousin, this is your fiance how lucky are you, I've been patiently awaiting your arrival” the sudden voice made you tilt to the call, there stood a man in his early twenties, his hair pure gray with pink luscious lips, he was covered in expensive attire and looked all most god-like, now measuring his features you were sure he was the son of one god leaning more to the goddesses in this situation.

“jimin,” Taehyung said with annoyance he clenched his jaw as jimin came to introduce himself “Jimin son of Aphrodite” he pressed his lips to the pals of your hand in a gentle manner, you didn’t stir in annoyance but clearly enjoyed his mere presence.

which of course was one of his many gifts being the son of the goddess of love

“Taehyung here forgot to mention-” he leaned in to whisper against your lobe, hiding his words from the other immortals that wandered the building “that your a human, I can smell it” he shifted back with a smug look, you hadn't been fazed by his words but continued to fall into his enchantments.

“You understand the meaning of this right, Taehyung” jimin sparked looking everywhere but the sinful red eyes of his cousins, he wasn’t blaming anything on you but his cousin's foolishness “The prophecy can kiss my ass” Taehyung growled.

“and can you please stop” he begged with displeasure.

“stop what” jimin replied acting clueless to his powers, “I know you're enchanting her so she doesn’t hear a thing we say” Jimin sighed, releasing you from the cage you didn’t even realize he locked you in.

“do i have to remind you to be careful with her or are you already too much of an idiot to accomplish anything but twisted in your life” the demigod grew angry with his cousin, he understood you, he could see right through your dictionary of love the memories that attached themselves to you were full of them.

and his cousin could take that all away in an instant everything you’ve ever dearly held close to you in life will be ripped to shreds without notice.

“Don’t worry, she’s not gonna get hurt” you frowned at the conversation the two were having, tapping your foot anxiously against the floor.

“I hope so cousin, I truly do” Taehyung perked up in his seat his ears catching on to a sound only he would be able to hear, a warning.

“We need to go” he got up from his seat, but too late the screams had already begun, your eyes widen in horror fear crippling your heart as it raced from the adrenaline now pulsing through your system, jimin ran off to protect himself and make sure others were fine.

Taehyung didn’t want to search for the source already knowing what it was “ grab my hand” he said in anticipation his face going pale at the source if there was one thing he would ever be afraid of it was those things destroying the party.

not daring to go back to his past.

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

TAG LIST - 

@sugarrimajins @camilaxpolanco @bluemooncnblue @nabo39

@alex--awesome--22 @fivesecondsofsarang @sununicorn @damnedandbroken @aylinstrash @thealexalcala

tell me your thoughts I would love to hear and answer some questions, but feel free to do whatever.

.

[kenzieam]

Destroyed - Chapter One (Chris X OC)

Rating: M

Warnings: Violence, language, drama, angst

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@iammarylastar​​​ @captstefanbrandt​​​ @jewels2876​​​ @moonbeambucky​​​​ @badassbaker​​​ @everythingisoverrated​​​ @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123​​​ @oliviastan17​​

I KNOW I’M MISSING TAGS, PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT IN

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What happens if Chris survived the bank robbery?

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Five Years Later

The sun beat heavy on his bare shoulders, the skin pulling slightly with the beginnings of a sunburn. Chris tightened the final bolt then straightened, ducking out from under the reach of the truck’s hood, stretching his spine with a groan as he dropped the wrench with a clatter in with its mates then pulled a rag from his back pocket to wipe his hands.

He let the sun warm his face for a moment, eyes closed and contemplated; should he get a start on figuring out what was making the Adler’s van run so rough, or go eat lunch?

That was his life now, and he was content with it.

He’d just made up his mind, lunch first, Adler’s van second, when a new sound pierced his thoughts. Dropping his head from the sun’s warmth, he turned to look over his shoulder.

A late seventies Toyota Land Cruiser wheezed towards him. Although old, it was in decent shape, either an older restoration or just plain well cared for, but right now, it needed help. Chris watched as it wound down, seemingly like a wind-up toy petering out, and gasped one last time before stalling a few dozen feet away. All clearance lights, already dimmed, died instantly and Chris, although not a betting man, not since gambling with his life five years ago, would have laid odds on what the Toyota’s problem was.

The driver’s door opened as Chris approached and he felt a sudden jolt of electricity. Not even Erin’s kiss in that bar as they’d learned their cover had affected him like this. A woman stepped out, no… scratch that, an angel appeared.

Long auburn hair, faint strands of blond catching the sun; thick and wavy and just perfect for Chris to card his hands through. Sunglasses of probably the same vintage as the Cruiser were pushed up into that glorious mane to reveal a set of cat-shaped eyes in the most unique and breath-taking shade of lilac-grey Chris had ever seen. Faint wrinkles of worry marred the smooth heart-shaped face and then she was looking right at him and Chris felt like he’d been kicked in the guts.

“Hey- , uh. Car trouble?” He stuttered, feeling his face start to flame.

The faintest of smiles. “Yeah.”

“Sounds like your alternator.” Chris scrambled for steady ground; known terrain when the earth was practically shaking beneath his feet.

“I thought so,” she murmured, sounding resigned. She met his eyes and Chris felt a fresh jolt. “Do you think it took my battery out with it?”

A lopsided grin, the majority of people he helped had no idea what an alternator even was, let alone knew how it worked.  

“I’ll check that, if you got it here fast enough, it should be okay.”

She bit her lip for a moment. “How long will it take? I have to get to work.”

“Not long, I can have it done by this afternoon if I’ve got the part laying around.”

The woman flinched slightly. “I work late, I won’t be able to come back until tomorrow.”

“That’s fine. You said you had to work? I can take you-“ Chris was babbling and he knew it, forced himself to shut up. “I mean, if you’d like.”

The faint smile again, a hint of pink in her cheeks. Maybe he wasn’t the only one being thrown off his axis right now. “I can’t ask you to do that.”

“No, it’s fine.” Chris was inexplicably terrified of losing contact with this woman and if he’d had more time to think about it, it probably would have bothered him, this sudden attachment. “I’m just heading out to lunch; I can give you a ride. Where are you going?”

Her eyes met his, that strange lilac-grey seeming to pierce into his soul. After a heartbeat, something flickered in her gaze, something Chris would swear was fear. “No, thank you.” Her voice was firm now, insistent and Chris felt an unexpected and unexplained pang of disappointment. She reached into her purse and pulled out a flip phone.

Chris stood rooted to the spot, frozen, until the woman raised her head. “Would you like me to sign anything first?” Her voice was tentative again, as if she worried she’d angered him.

Chris swallowed hard, hating that she was slipping between his fingers and at the same time, absolutely stunned that it mattered so much to him already. What the fuck is wrong with you, King? “Yeah, follow me. I’ll make out a work order.” He turned and strode into the shop, heart hammering a frantic tattoo in his chest. Reaching the counter, he grabbed the necessary paperwork and a pen. “Uh, name?”

The woman had reached the other side of the counter and now shifted her weight, almost uneasily, as if she was leery even of giving Chris her name. “Raen.” She finally answered, pronouncing it like ‘Rain’. “R A E N Casteel.”

“And a number to reach you at?”

Another pause, as if weighing her options. Chris had studied body language and received more than enough training in the F.B.I. to read this woman’s behaviour. She had been hurt by someone in the past, badly, and was either running from it still or was just permanently marked, forever cautious around strangers, especially men. His heart ached with a sudden desire to pull her close and crush away all her bad memories, show her that not all love and all men meant pain; and track down the ratfuck that had made her this way to begin with. Finally, she offered a number, chewing on her bottom lip.

“Okay,” Chris scrawled the number, mind racing as he tried to organize his thoughts. He’d never been so thrown by someone in his life, not since her. In the space of only a few minutes, he’d gone from content and hungry, his biggest decision of the day being when and what to eat, to being absolutely swept up in a mysterious woman, ready to fight for her and kiss away her sorrow. But no.

He couldn’t.

He’d fallen hard for a woman before, and it had nearly killed him. He could not do that again.

“Alright.” He cleared his throat, forcing a casual tone. “I’ll look at it and give you a call and an estimate.”

“Thank you. If I don’t answer, please leave a message.”

“Sure.”

The woman gave him one last hesitant smile, then dropped the keys on the counter, turned and almost fled the shop, the door banging closed behind her. Chris watched her hurry away and disappear around the corner.

Jesus wept.

He wanted to help her, and not just by fixing her vehicle.

As soon as his doctors discharged him from the hospital, as soon as it wasn’t abject agony to move anymore (because Chris had gone cold-turkey on all hard drugs after), he’d left the F.B.I., taking all the compensation and bonuses offered to him for his service and sacrifice. Breaking the lease on his apartment, he’d loaded his truck (not the monster he’d driven as Undercover Chris, but his own) and pointed it east, intent on leaving L.A. and California and the west coast entirely, not stopping until the icy dread that ran rampant through his veins finally ebbed and he could draw a deep breath again.

Staying in L.A. meant memories, it meant driving past old haunts and neighborhoods, remembering his shitty past and even shittier career as a Special Agent; one that had started promisingly enough, especially for a delinquent kid who had more in common with the thugs he chased than the agents who hunted them, but had cratered hard when he’d accepted his last assignment.

Deep cover, a chance to advance and take out an asshole at the same time. Dangerous, but definitely worth it; and then he’d met her.

Erin Bell, his awakening and his ruin. His rise and his downfall. In her he’d found a partner, a fellow survivor of a hellish childhood and for a time, he’d been in love. Blinded by the light, as the song went.

He’d let himself believe he could have it all, that he and Erin could give the middle finger to Silas’ gang, to the F.B.I., Sheriff’s Office and the whole fucking world and just run off together with a shit-ton of stolen money.

How wrong he’d been. At the last moment, his conscience had finally intervened, and he remembered the fright and tears in that blonde teller’s eyes as Silas had screamed at her, the abject terror in her innocent face. As he’d watched Silas drop the duffels, spewing tell-tale purple clouds and storm back into the bank, the haze had lifted from his mind and even Erin’s horrified, pleading stare hadn’t been enough to bring it back.

No one gets a fuckin’ scratch. He’d vowed, but he’d been the naïve one then.

“F.B.I.!” His words hadn’t had the desired effect, Silas hadn’t fl0undered in shock or dropped to his knees in acquiescence; it was like he’d known and, looking back, he probably had, trading Arturo for Chris at the last moment, the psycho had at least suspected someone was a mole and Chris had been the one to break cover.

The memory of the burn from the bullets was something that still woke Chris up from a dead sleep, multiple points of agony in his torso, a line of fire on his scalp. That last bullet Silas gave him, aimed as the kill shot to his skull as he lay gasping and already dying on the grimy industrial carpet of the bank; had, depending on your viewpoint, either saved or doomed Chris, missing his brain and splitting a line on his scalp instead. Silas hadn’t noticed as he’d stalked out and Chris carried that scar to this day, visible at all times because although he hated thinking about his past, he’d kept the shorn head and facial hair.

If asked, he couldn’t explain why, but maybe it really was to remember, even though he hated to. Seeing Undercover Chris, with a buzz cut and goatee everyday in the mirror was his penance. He couldn’t, he didn’t deserve to go back to the neatly-groomed man he’d been before, hair longer and fluffy and worthy of a woman running their fingers through it; he wasn’t that man anymore, for better or worse.

He’d driven until his truck had made the choice for him, quitting in this mid-sized town in New York state, lasting long enough for him to limp it into this very mechanic’s shop. A chance comment from the owner, that he needed a new mechanic, had been the catalyst for Chris to stay, at least for awhile.

As a kid, knowing through bitter experience that his own mother was an unreliable source, Chris had kept himself alive with his hands. More specifically, using his hands to fix and tinker. A few hours working on the neighbor’s broken lawnmower earned him enough to eat for a week, the car he’d traded a day’s worth of small engine work for and spent two months of weekends working on before selling to the plumber down the street helped him make it when his mother finally OD’d and he’d needed to keep himself afloat, keep the nosy housewives on the block from calling CPS and reporting a child left alone. Not that they’d have been overly concerned for Chris’ wellbeing, his mother had supported her drug habit by spreading her legs for anyone with cash or drugs, and most if not all of these women’s husbands had partaken at one time or another, meaning Chris was practically guaranteed abandonment when the real object of their fury and indignation was gone, and only her son was left to blame.

That history had been his fuel for a time, spurring him to apply for the F.B.I., encouraging and driving his ambitions to make something of himself, to be more than the fatherless son of a crack-whore.

And, for a time, he had been. He’d been more. Chosen for the assignment, entrusted with the delicate task, but he’d fucked it up, as it was in his genes to do and it still burned sometimes to think about it.

And now, working at the shop had kept him busy, tired him out enough that sometimes he was even too exhausted for the nightmares. So, when the old man had announced his retirement two years later, Chris had offered to buy the place.

For almost three years now he’d been here, running his own business, continuing and building on the shop’s reputation in town, paying Karma back with steady and honest work.

But was Raen another Erin? Another flash fire that would only leave him staggering and burned, another paradigm shift in his already jagged and torn existence?

He’d worked so hard to rebuild his life, was he ready to risk it all again?

[smokeysister]

The Stepford Game: Part 1

(This story features brainwashing, mind control, stepfordization, and unintentional reality warping)

Carrie wandered through the mall, trailing after her friends as they talked excitedly to one another. She was of average height for a 20 year old college student, albeit a bit plain looking. She kept her blonde hair in a pixie cut, and wore the bare minimum when it came to makeup. She didn’t even paint her nails or do anything with them beyond clipping them when they got long. Even her clothes were unremarkable. Just jean shorts, flip flops, and a red crop top. Carrie stuck her hands in her pockets and sighed. Normally she enjoyed mall crawling with the girls, and it was spring break too! But she just felt so listless and bored. Nothing could really excite her. Even her last few dates with her boyfriend, Kent, had ended with her going home early and wondering if she should just end the relationship. But out of the corner of her eye, Carrie saw something that did interest her, at least a little bit. There was a new store, or at least one that she had never seen there before. It looked like an old hobby shop, with dusty windows and old toys and games in the display. Little toy cars and train sets that seemed to be from the 1950s, all made of painted wood and metal. Probably lead paints, she realized with a wrinkle of her nose. Still, the store had caught her attention. All of the other hobby shops and toy stores in the mall had been closed down and replaced by tech stores years ago, so it was an odd duck out. And it seemed to be empty.

“Carrie? Why are you lagging?” Vivian asked. She was Carrie’s best friend, ever since they were little kids. If Carrie was unremarkable and plain, Vivian was anything but. She had ivory skin, with heavy black and red makeup that never seemed to leave her face. Her straight black hair hung down to her shoulders, and she was always wearing black leather and lace. Silver studs dotted her chin, cheeks, and nose, and she had large black gauges in her ears. She wore a black band shirt, which advertized one of the endless list of heavy metal bands she listened to, and which showed off her sleeve tattoos. She had ripped jeans and combat boots to complete the edgy look. And of course, she always looked dour and grumpy. “Huh? O-oh, I was just… Looking at something,” Carrie mumbled. The other girls turned around and joined her, looking the store up and down, with varying reactions. “What is this place?” Linh asked innocently. “Who cares? I gotta head to the apple store and get a new phone!” Mariah complained. Linh and Mariah were Carrie’s other closest friends. Linh was tall, asian, and had long black hair that reached all the way to the bottom of her back. She was wearing an oversized purple t-shirt that hung off of one shoulder and a pair of black and white gym shorts, as well as a pair of glasses with thin wire frames. Mariah was the shortest of the bunch. She was black, and wore her hair in bright, multi colored dreadlocks. The most athletic of the group, she wore a blue basketball jersey and a pair of mesh shorts, as well as some worn out sneakers. “Can we look inside first?” Carrie begged. She wasn’t totally sure why she wanted to check it out, but it… Well, it called to her. “Please?” “I’m with Carrie. It could be fun!” Linh agreed. “I don’t really care one way or the other,” Vivian said with a shrug. “...Alright, fine!” Mariah agreed. “But we’re going to the apple store after! I promised Mark I’d text him tonight when I need a ride home.” “I told you, my mom could give you a ride if you needed,” Linh offered. “Sure, she’s got work early tomorrow morning, but I could probably convince her if we really need to.” Carrie felt a pang of sadness when Linh mentioned her mother. Linh’s mom was always busy with work, ever since her dad had left them. As a result, Linh was just about always at home alone, or spending her time at their houses, but Carrie knew that she missed being able to spend time with her mom. But as much as she’d like, there wasn’t really anything Carrie could do to change that. “Let’s go inside then,” Carrie said, trying to shift over to the less serious topic. She walked into the store, and the other three followed after her. The inside of the shop was just as musty as the outside, and it seemed as though nobody had shopped there in years, if not decades. In fact, the only person inside, aside from themselves, was an old man behind the counter, keeping watch over an old metal cash register. “Talk about old,” Mariah said, wrinkling her nose. “I dunno,” Carrie said. “I think all this old vintage stuff is kinda cool.” “I was talking about the guy,” Mariah snorted. She looked down her nose at an old train set from the 1930s and rolled her eyes. “So what do you sell here?” Linh asked the owner. He was a short, stocky, warm old man, with thick rimmed glasses and a forest green sweater vest. “Oh, old toys and games, mostly,” he explained with a friendly chuckle. “I don’t get too many customers, but whenever I do, they always manage to find something to enjoy.” “I somehow doubt that,” Mariah snarked. If her remark offended the old man, he certainly didn’t show it. He just kept on smiling fondly, as though he were talking to his grandchildren. “I have to agree with Mariah,” Vivian said, speaking up for the first time since they had entered the store. “I haven’t met anyone, our age or younger, who has even a passing interest in a game that doesn’t involve a CPU.” “Ah, people can surprise you!” the man claimed. “Why, just last month, I had a little boy come in with his mother. Just like you say, he wasn’t interested in anything other than his fortnights or call of battlefield, but then he found this little wooden car, over on that wall. The second he laid eyes on it, he couldn’t think of anything else. He begged his mother to buy it for him, and then he ran right on past the game store down the way, because he couldn’t wait to get home and play with the car.” “Suuuure he did,” Mariah muttered under her breath. She gave up on even pretending to be interested in the store’s contents, and so she stayed by the front entrance and leaned against the doorframe with her arms crossed. “I can believe it,” Carrie said, smiling at the old man. “There are still people who like this old vintage stuff. Collectors, you know? They’ve gotta start somewhere.” “I guess…” Vivian agreed, tentatively. Linh, however, seemed to be fully on Carrie’s side. While Linh and Vivian looked at a few old toy soldiers, Carrie wandered off, towards the back of the store, where there was an array of board games stacked in a pyramid. At the very top of the pile was one with a name she didn’t recognize at all. Even the brand on the box, the people who made it, didn’t ring any bells. Milton Bradley they were not. But the cover of the box is what caught her attention, as well as an odd name, which clashed with the date that it was made. “The Stepford Game?” she asked nobody in particular. Wasn’t that story from the 1970s? But the game, from it’s production date to the scene on the cover, dated the game to the early 1950s, roughly twenty years earlier than that horror film her cousin showed her. But the box seemed so interesting, so unique. It had an idyllic image on the cover, showing a group of six housewives chatting on a patio. They were all different races, which seemed surprising, given the era. But they also looked so happy. Genuinely happy, too, not that fakey happiness that old advertisements always involved. Carrie didn’t even have to think twice about it. She was going to buy the board game. Like the old man said in his story about the little boy, she was transfixed. She knew that it was now or never, somehow. If she walked out of the store without it, she would never find this piece of history ever again, no matter how hard she searched. She picked the box up and hugged it close to her chest as she raced back to the counter. “I’ll take this, please!” Carrie said with an eager smile as she set the box down on the glass countertop. “Huh? Really?” Vivian asked, looking up from a pack of baseball cards that the man had been showing to her and Linh. “Oh, cool! I haven’t played a board game in ages!” Linh said. “We can play it back at my house tonight!” Carrie nodded enthusiastically, happy that her friend was down with trying it out. “C’mon, Viv, play it with us?” Carrie asked. It didn’t take much encouragement. If it made Carrie happy, Vivian was willing to do just about anything, no matter how hokey. Vivian gave the box one last suspicious look, but then she sighed and relented. “Alright, I’m in. It’s gonna be weird, but whatever. Weird is my middle name.” What she didn’t admit was that the image of the happy housewives on the cover seemed almost… interesting? She didn’t have the faintest clue as to why, but Vivian had a hard time avoiding looking at them, no matter how many times she forced her gaze away. “That’s the spirit!” Carrie said. “So, um, how much do I owe you, sir?” she asked the man. “For that one? Just $5.” “Wait, really? Even Monopoly costs, like, $20, and that’s new. This has to be worth more than that, right?” Carrie asked, shocked at how cheap the offer was. “Everything here goes for the original sale price, dear,” the old man said with a smile. “And in 1952, that board game was $5, so $5 it is.” “Alright, awesome!” Carrie said as she handed the man a five dollar bill. “Seriously, mister, thank you so much!” “Thank you, my dear! Have a swell time!” “Believe me, dude, we will!” Linh said with a laugh as she threw her arms around Vivian and Carrie’s shoulders. Carrie picked the box up and hugged it close to her chest again as the three headed to the exit, where Mariah joined them. “You’re forcing me to play that dumbass game with you, aren’t you?” she asked, dreading the answer that she knew was coming. “Yes, yes we are,” Carrie insisted with a bright and cheery smile. She had a wonderful feeling about this game. She hadn’t been this excited in a long, long time. ********************* “Mom! We’re home!” Linh said as the four girls climbed out of Vivian’s black Tesla. Her mother was sitting on the front porch, typing away on a laptop. “Mhm. There’s some leftover pizza in the fridge if you’re hungry. But try to be quiet tonight, okay? It might be my day off, but I still have to review these case notes, and I don’t need any distractions,” Linh’s mother said coldly. “Right. Sorry, mom. We’ll try not to cause too much noise,” Linh said, looking a bit crestfallen for a moment, before she put a smile back on her face and led the others inside. They headed straight up to Linh’s bedroom, on the top floor of the house. She was the only one of the group who lived at home year round, since she lived close to their college, and so her room looked, well, lived in. The bed wasn’t made, and there was a pile of dirty clothes in the corner, which Linh shoved into a closet to deal with later. Meanwhile, Carrie set the board game box down on the white carpet, in the center of the room. Vivian sat to her right, Linh sat to her left, and Mariah sat across from her. Carrie opened the box and set the top off to the side, then pulled out the game board. It was set up to look like an idyllic 1950s suburban neighborhood, with white picket fences and green hedges separating rows of identical houses. The starting point was the local grocery store, and the ending point seemed to be a lively barbecue in someone’s backyard, attended by the whole neighborhood. There was also a small speaker set into the center of the board, though it didn’t seem to have any buttons connected to it. Carrie grabbed the rulebook and started skimming through it, reading aloud for everyone to hear while they all picked out a character piece to represent themselves. The tiny plastic figures were all identical, being little housewives with poofy skirts and beehive hairdos, but they were set apart by their colors. Vivian grabbed the black piece, while Linh grabbed the purple one, and Mariah grabbed the blue one. Vivian picked out the red piece for Carrie, knowing that it was her favorite color. “The Stepford Game. Two to eight players. Roll the dice, yada yada, pick up cards from the appropriate piles… Always read the card out loud… Event spaces, chore spaces, reality spaces, and wardrobe spaces… Fail a chore challenge, get a punishment… First to reach the barbecue wins, but the game doesn’t end until everyone arrives. Sounds simple enough, yeah?” “Yep. So who goes first?” Vivian asked. She still couldn’t believe that they were actually playing this thing. The things she did to make Carrie happy… “It says that we have to roll for turn order,” Carrie explained, after finding the appropriate rule. Carrie got a six, Linh got a five, Vivian a three, and Mariah a two. “Okay, so I go first!” Carrie said with an eager grin. She was hoping that she’d be the first one to get a turn. Carrie shook the dice in her hands and then rolled them along the carpet. She got a four, and so she picked up the little red housewife piece and moved it to the fourth spot, which was marked as a wardrobe space. After double checking the rules to make sure she was supposed to do so, Carrie took the top card off of the wardrobe deck and looked it over. The card had a drawing of a woman’s hand, with long, perfectly manicured nails, which were being lovingly painted. There was also text on the card, which Carrie read for the group. “Fresh Coat of Paint. You spent the afternoon taking care of your precious little digits, and now you’ve got a lovely manicure and a new coat of paint to go with it! Keep good care of those nails, dearie!” A second after she finished reading the card, the speaker in the center of the board played a happy jingle, and Carrie felt a little tingle on the tips of her fingers. When she set the card down, she noticed something peculiar. Her nails, which had been cut short and unpainted just a second ago, were now long, perfectly manicured, and colored cherry red. Her eyes went wide with shock, but she played it off as if nothing odd had happened, and set the card aside, then folded her hands in her lap. Nobody else seemed to notice the sudden change, but she had to wonder… What kind of game had she bought, exactly? “Alright, my turn!” Linh said as she snatched up the dice and tossed them again. A three. “One, two, three… Reality space? What’s that mean?” Linh asked once her game piece landed on the tile. “You’ve gotta draw a reality card,” Carrie said, reading from the rule list. “Here you go.” She picked the top card from that deck and handed it to Linh, who began to read it aloud. “Like Mother, Like Daughter: Being a housewife runs in the family. You grew up with a mother who is the spitting image of a 1950s sitcom housewife, and you’ve always wanted to be just like her when you grew up.” Suddenly, the lights in the room dimmed, and everything was swamped in a strange darkness. The hair on the backs of the girls’ necks stood on end, before the lights flickered back on and everything went back to normal. “Well of course I want to be just like my mom!” Linh said, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. “She’s always been my role model!” Suddenly, a voice called out from the other room, and then Linh’s mother poked her head in to see how the girls were doing. “Are you girls having fun?” she asked in a voice as sweet as apple pie. Her hair was freshly permed from a trip to the salon that morning, and she was wearing a bright red shirtdress, with a ballooning skirt pushed out by several petticoats, and a white apron tied around her waist. In her hands, she held a tray of chocolate chip cookies. “I baked you some treats, in case you were hungry!” “Thanks mom! You’re the best!” Linh gushed as she took the plate off of her mother’s hands and set it down on her bed. The four young adults all began munching on the cookies with blissful smiles on their faces. Linh’s mom really was the perfect housewife! No wonder she wanted to get married and become a homemaker herself. It was all she ever talked about! Carrie was so happy that her friend had such a caring, doting mother. Even Vivian and Mariah liked Linh’s mom, even though she was so old fashioned. “Your turn, Vivian!” Linh said, handing her the dice. Vivian tossed the dice onto the carpet, and came up with a six. She moved her little black housewife piece six spaces, and ended up on a wardrobe space. Following what Carrie had done earlier, she grabbed the top card off of the pile and looked at it suspiciously. The card had a drawing of a cartoon housewife on it, with natural red hair tied back in a high ponytail. “Dye Job: You spent a day at the salon, and now you’ve got a brand new style. Being a redhead suits you, doesn’t it?” The little speaker on the center of the board played a jaunty little jingle, and all the girls watched Vivian with wide eyes, surprised by what they saw. A wave of light orange-red color swept across Vivian’s hair, from the top of her head down to her shoulders, until her jet black hair was gone, and she looked just like a natural redhead. Even her eyebrows changed color to match! And once that was done, a black ribbon seemed to appear out of thin air, and tied itself around her hair, pulling the bright red locks up into a ponytail, identical to the one on the card. “Uh… Did everyone else just see that?” Mariah asked, unable to break eye contact. It was just too bizarre. “I think she looks nice! You make a cute redhead, Viv!” Linh said with a giggle. “Yeah!” Carrie agreed enthusiastically. “It really suits you.” “No, seriously! Her hair just changed color!” Mariah exclaimed, pointing at Vivian, who was blushing a bit. “Well, yeah, it did. But it’s cute!” Linh giggled. “Maybe it’s a magic board game?” Carrie proposed. The idea had been swimming around in her head since her turn, when her nails had transformed. She took a deep breath and held up her hands for everyone to see. “My nails changed too, after I drew my card. See? They were normal before, but now they’re manicured, just like the card said,” Carrie explained. Vivian looked a bit relieved, seeing that she wasn’t the only one who had been affected. “Magic?” Mariah asked, baffled. “You think you bought a magic board game?” “Do you have a better idea?” Vivian asked. For her, the idea of a magic board game wasn’t absurd at all. She was Wiccan, and so magic was perfectly normal in her mind. “Old games like these, someone might have cursed it or something.” “So we’re playing a cursed board game, and you’re all just… Fine with that?” “Well… If you find a magic board game, why not?” Carrie asked. “It’s like something out of a movie!” “I guess…” Mariah said. Still, she wasn’t sure this was the best idea. “But if this game goes all Jumanji on us, I’m out.” “My only question is why nothing happened to Linh,” Vivian said, looking at their unaffected friend. “Carrie’s nails were painted, and my hair changed color, but Linh’s card just said a fact about her life. Right now, that’s the weird part.” “Well, it is a reality card, so maybe it knows something about the players, and is saying it?” Linh offered as an explanation. It made about as much sense as anything else. “But seriously, though, Vivian’s hair is SO. CUTE. I love it, Viv!” “Um… thanks, I think?” Vivian said. She could feel the change as it occurred, the tingle that swept across her whole body, wherever she had hair. But she wasn’t upset by the transformation, for some reason. Logically, she could just dye it black again if she really wanted to. And really, it just didn’t bother her. “My turn, then,” Mariah said as she grabbed the dice and rolled, scared of what might happen. With any luck, she’d get a reality space like Linh, and she’s just get a card that talked about how she nearly flunked her statistics course. But no, she got a one, and groaned in frustration. She moved the blue housewife forward one space, onto a wardrobe tile. Vivian handed her a card, which Mariah read out in a worried tone, cursing her poor luck. “A Gift From The Hubby. Your husband bought you a pretty new dress, and it would be terribly rude not to try it on for your date night!” Again, there was a cartoon housewife on the card, though this one looked more like Mariah, with long dreadlocks and dark brown skin. She was wearing a fancy, low cut evening dress, made of a seafoam green satin, with a full skirt and a sheer silver shawl. Once again, the speaker on the board played its jingle, but this time the effect was much more pronounced. Mariah’s clothing vanished in the blink of an eye, but she was only nude for a split second before the outfit from the card had entered the real world and wormed its way onto Mariah’s body. “What just happened?!” Mariah asked, alarmed. Carrie and Vivian were both similarly shocked, but Linh just smiled and patted Mariah on the lap. “What a gorgeous dress! It looks just like the one my mom wears when she goes out to dinner with daddy!” “Yeah, b-but what happened to my jersey?!” Mariah exclaimed, jumping to her feet. “Girls, seriously, this game, i-it’s not normal! Just look at what it did to me! What it did to Vivian’s hair!” “I don’t really mind my hair…” Vivian mumbled, missing the point entirely. “Mariah, calm down, okay?” Carrie pleaded, placing her hand over Mariah’s. “I’m sure this’ll all go back to normal once the game is over, okay? That’s what the rules say, at least.” “Really? You’re sure?” Mariah asked, still very uneasy, and not at all comfortable wearing the fancy vintage dress. She sat down slowly, her petticoats rustling as she awkwardly sat down cross legged on the floor. Her skirt flounced upwards, and ruffly petticoats poked out from beneath it’s hem. Clearly, she wasn’t used to sitting down in dresses. “Yeah, I’m sure. Like I said… The rules say this is all temporary,” Carrie lied. She couldn’t wait to see what happened next.