#don’t get me started on the dude who plays snows age

[flying-ham]

so hard watching promo for ballad now that I’m the same age as the main actress. like when thg came out I had no concept of what teenagers looked like so i totally accepted 21 year old jennifer lawrence playing 16 year old katniss. now I’m all grown up and looking at rachel zegler like that’s clearly a 22 year old

[autisticempathydaemon]

Hi hiii!! :DDD Doing this bad boy to see what happens. >:333

What song are you fixated on at the moment? What lyric or verse, and why? Rule 34 and Dinner and Diatribes. I don't know. Something about the just barely masked tension in both those songs, the way they both fit so well with characters/ships/dynamics I adore, and their general energy and instrumentation SINGS to me. <3 <3 <3. I may not listen to them as often as others but they are my entire brain constantly. Favourite lines from both are: "You look so good There on your knees Such a good girl knows how to please Look at me look me in the eyes Forget yourself, surrender your mind" - Rule 34 (Mostly for the visuals and the change of voice) And "I knew it from the first look of The look of mischief in your eyes" - Dinner and Diatribes (This line sets the tone of the entire song so well, the visual is so interesting and the way it's sung is so intimate in a way I cannot describe. Literally so good.)

What is your Enneagram type? 4w5 :3.

Do you love gargantuan Youtube video essays, and if so, which is your favorite and why? I fucking love them so bad <3. I think currently the Lightlark and Nightbane ones by KrimsonRogue are really good. Just... so much content, and also writing advice, and also dying inside listening to a review of a cringe book. Literally sustains my life.

Tell me about your childhood imaginary friend. I didn't really have them in the traditional sense, but the closest things I had was imagining chatting with or interacting with characters I liked from shows, especially once I found visual novels XD. And that evolved into characters running around in my brain and now I am a writer. :P So. These bitches clawed their way into my head at age 10 and never left.

What is your go-to way to fall asleep? Rain sounds. Storm sounds. Wind sounds. Especially if they just come from outside but I also do just put them on on my computer and turn off the screen often, letting them play on the stereo. :P

If you had to change your name, what would it be, and why? (In tandem, if you have changed your name, why did you pick that one?) Names are fucking weird man. I am currently in the process of reconsidering mine, and I am starting to like the idea of something more wacky, and star themed, or snow themed. :P I don't know if I'd like it long term but Redacted and DnD have very much warmed me up to names like that lol.

What is your favorite of Redacted’s audios, and why? Why must I chose one? You're so mean. Uuuuum... Deferred Judgment methinks. It shows a lot of Vega's softness and even some selflessness, while also a bit of the risk that his mission entails and MAN- THE EMOTIONAL IMPACT WHEN IT CAME OUT WAS SO MUCH. I hated it way back when but damn... it was really good. Still is. Cannot wait to see him again. Miss him real bad.

What Redacted boy holds no appeal to you, and why? Like, not the one you hate but the one who you don’t get the hype for. (I won’t judge, I promise.) Um... Guy, Ollie, NICK. OH GODS NOT NICK. And most of the fooliverse boys besides Milo. I am not exactly the type for sweet boys. I like some of them but their chaos or overt sweetness is... too much.

Tell me about that one book/movie/tv show you know all the words to. Can't say I have gotten that obsessed with media like that sadly. I am more of a Podcast/ASMR/Audioplay/Music person buuuut... hm... I mean- does a book I'm writing count??? I have quite a bit of the words of that thing up in the noggin often. It's not done yet but :P.

Which Redacted boy are you platonically attracted to? Like- forget dating, which dude do you want to be your best friend? Oh man. Damien. He is super similar to me in his passion and his love of learning and his general personality (minus the anger, that I am less prone to.) And the other boys up on top of my list I am more queerplatonic about so. :P

Do you have a go-to thing you ramble about when you’re tired, and if so, what is it? (For example, my boyfriend knows I’m ready to sleep when I start talking about space.) Oh no I will ramble about anything at any time. <3 <3 <3. I am not well ever <3.

Tell me your go-to gas station and drink combo. Spicy or Soup chips (Salt and Vineger, Chili/Cheese, etc), often Doritos or Cheetos (or Hickery Sticks if they have them), and either mineral water or an orange Soda/Slushy. And if it's cold I often go chips, sour candy and hot cocoa <3.

Tell me about your favorite playlist at the moment.  Hozier's Unheard and Wasteland Baby. Both have songs I utterly adore.

What’s your guilty pleasure media, and why? None. I feel guilty about nothing that I consume <3 <3 <3.

And whatever else you think tells me about who you are! I am a lover of art and the arts, and am actually studying art currently for my major. I would consider myself very much Vampiric in some ways (My disconnect in the way I write/speak from a specific time period or place, humanity is familiar but also fucking weird, the sun burns, I'm dramatic and want the fashion to prove it, blood good (no I won't explain) etc.), and I am a weird philosophical bastard who likes to make characters out of vague concepts, and then explore them to their most painful depth. Also varied morality and/or moral quandaries are very important to me. Morality is a weird soup and I like to play with it. (Ironic since my own morals are so strict and fixed, and yet I love writing characters who have different ones.) Aka Evil Bitches Good. And also I am one of them (if only as a writer. Love writing cruel angst to hurt my friends and characters with <3 <3 <3.) Anyhow that's all for me for now. <3 <3 <3 (Hope this is not too obscenely long.)

Pssssst- .3. Hellooo- I submmited a matchup thing but I think I did an oopsie XD. I'm an Enneagram 5w4 but I think I flipped them. So- just saying that. If it changes anything lol- My baddd- I just noticed when thinking on it. :P

Hmm, this enneagram type is characterized as creative, intelligent, and stubborn, with something to prove to the world- which tracks as you relate to Damien. With that in mind, who else could I pair you with but Huxley?

Huxley is a kind, patient, go with the flow kind of guy but not too silly which you said you don’t vibe with. You give me the impression of an insular, cerebral person, someone with a lot of ideas and thoughts that need to be finalized and put on paper, and Huxley seems like a good partner to help with that, to be your rock (ha) and help you keep those trains of thought on track while also being vocally supportive and hyping up your work the whole time. He’s sweet to you but not so sweet he doesn’t love you and your love of villains and their fucked-up deeds.

And it’s a wonderful love Huxley gives you every day, with the sturdy support and cool shade of a great tree. When you’re studying or doing schoolwork, he’s always there bringing you water or food, massaging your shoulders if you’ve been slouching. He listens to your rambles with rapt attention and affection, retaining every detail. He is your beta reader and biggest fan. He drives you to and from school with a thermos of homemade hot chocolate because his leagues is better than the store-bought stuff, and he won’t let you forget it.

Song:

And I remember being younger and my mother told me the truth/ Find someone who grows flowers in the darkest parts of you/ Take heed when things get hard and don't you ever turn around/ You'll find someone, someday, somewhere that grows you to the clouds

I feel like this song choice needs no explanation. One, the vibes are kind of just right if you’re a Hozier fan; the folk-y, country-like longing is just what the matchmaker prescribed (the matchmaker being me). Two, it’s delightfully charming and ironic given your dislike of the sun and the pet name of Sunflower I will soon have him give you.

Runner-ups:

Cam is a fun runner-up for you because I think he, as a therapist, would have a lot to contribute to your writing and dissection of villains along with the empathy to see the depth and dimension you want to give them. Lasko is another runner-up I like given how much you relate to Damien, because Damien/Lasko has always struck me as a darling pair, two sides of the same coin.

Bonus: (For you, my one hundredth match-up~)

“Sunflower…”

“Fifteen more minutes, Hux; I’ve almost figured this out.”

“You said that forty-five minutes ago, baby,” Huxley says with a soft, warm laugh and big, warmer hands on your shoulders, gently turning your chair around. “It’s time for bed.”

“But my chapter-“ you say with a tone you won’t admit has a hint of a whine.

“Will be there tomorrow,” he interrupts, taking your hand and gently tugging you out of your chair against your weak protests. “And you’ll be able to write and edit it even better once you’ve slept.” You fall into the bed with a fwump, a deep sigh, and a muttered stream of thought falling out your lips like the air out of a balloon. The earth elemental can pick out odd, familiar words in the ramble like “heart”, “stars”, and “Vega” and chuckles as the stream peters off into slow breaths and soft snores. Huxley queues up a familiar YouTube video on the tv, a ten hour loop of light rain showers, and places a blanket over your sprawled, sleeping body.

“Good night, Sunflower,” he says softly, pressing a light kiss on the top of your head before climbing into bed beside you, turning off the light with a fond, content smile.

Read this post and send me an ask if you’d like a match-up of your own! 💌

[subterranean-heartsick-blues]

Floating Hotel by Grace Curtis book review

My rating: 3 of 5 stars

You're gonna fly away / Glad you're goin' my way (Cruisin’ – Smokey Robinson).

Hi there, long time no see! Or at least if feels that way because I’m realizing that I've probably forgotten how to read due to the fact that my weekend has been entirely consumed by Dragon Age: The Veilguard (#ad #sponsored)! It’s wild because the game is currently being “review bombed” (meaning randos leaving purposefully bad reviews so the average rating goes real low to the floor) because the angriest dudes on the planet think the game is too “woke.” There’s a non-binary character in the game, and now apparently the weirdest guy you know feels the need to spend all of his time going on YouTube and yelling at people for playing the game? Man, that’s sad. It’s also sad because I can see how this poisoned mindset is starting to affect the opinions of the people who were looking forward to the game! They’ll be saying shit like “Yeah sure, the game might be too woke, but if you can ignore that, then it’s actually, maybe, kind of, sort of… fun!” as if that weren't the most pathetically flaccid way of saying, “I think I like it, but I need other people to tell me what to think, so I don’t know yet!” So~oo brave! Anyway, what’s my point? I don’t know, I guess I just wanted to talk about Dragon Age: The Veilguard because I like it and it’s fun (#ad #sponsored), but also, it’s important to note that I’m enjoying the game because it’s woke, not despite it. Got to "stay woke," like the song said. Yeah well, I figured I’d take a break from being exposed to all of these manufactured “culture wars” and get back into my favorite pastime of reading! And the best thing about reading is that it’s solitary. Aaah peace and quiet, so nice! Taking a break from playing my woke fantasy to read a woke Sci-fi. Okay, I’ll stop saying “woke” now, because it doesn’t even sound like a real word anymore. What I’m getting at is that it’s interesting how different the landscapes are for different forms of expressions, as in the gaming world, people can’t even handle when there are gay people or people of color in their precious video game, while in literature, the sheer diversity of the story and the characters that inhabit the Floating Hotel, this book, are not only a few of its greatest strengths, but also its biggest selling points. But here’s the thing, I’m a huge fan of Science Fiction… as long as it’s not in book form. I love the Alien movies (yes, even Alien: Covenant), Mass Effect, Metroid, Futurama, hell, I even liked Starfield! But whenever I get a craving for a Sci-Fi book, my mind immediately imagines something like an Enders Game and any interest I might have had shrivels up like a pumpkin on November 3rd. I don’t know why, I really don’t. Unfortunately, for the most part, I think this book was mostly the same in that area. You know how when you’re showing your friend your favorite movie and they’re kind of disinterested and they keep missing all the big plot revelations because they keep glancing at their phones? Well, I was that friend for a good chunk of this book. I’m the problem! But hey, I didn’t give up on it, that’s got to count for something, right?

Nonetheless, let me see if I can talk myself into liking this book. My main problem here was the fact that because we switch up the POV characters every chapter, it was kind of hard for me to grasp what was going on a lot of the time. It’s like Let it Snow all over again! The first story being good, the John Green one being mid, and then the third story being a blight on literature as a whole! Too varying for my tastes. Like, there were certain story-lines in Floating Hotel that I wanted to learn more about (like the alien one), only for the chapter to end and we’d move on to the boring spy story. Ugh. But at least this book had one author, so the writing stayed consistently fantastic throughout. Besides, here’s the thing, I wanted to like Floating Hotel, and sometimes when you pretend to like something for long enough, you actually end up liking it for real. And eventually that’s what happened here. Yay! Belated synopsis time? Okay. The basic story is that we follow the titular floating hotel, the Grand Abeona; a remnant of past human explorative optimism that now serves more as an allegory of one of those shitty cruise tickets you’d win while gambling. But what makes this specific hotel special isn’t that it can travel to infinity and beyond, but because of the interesting people that always seem to inhabit the hotel at any given time. From what I can understand, the story is sometimes about a jewel heist, a spy mission, a hidden resistance group fighting against an oppressive empire, and an “ice-breaker” work activity accidentally uncovering aliens trying to communicate with us. If this whole thing sounds like I’m literally piecing it together right now, it’s because I am. Ha ha! Damn, I can’t spark-notes this one. Can somebody go out and read this book real quick and make a clickbait YouTube video explaining beat-by-beat exactly what was going on and maybe a rundown of the themes? Thanks in advance! Anyway, sorry for ranting about video games for… oh my… this entire review, but I do think there’s an interesting comparison to be made between grifters who make their living spreading misery and organizing hate mobs against any work of art with even a dash of queerness and how Floating Hotel depicts its universe. In the story, society has progressed to the point where people can literally travel among the stars as a luxury, and yet nothing has really changed all that much. I mean, everything is still so fucked. Underneath all the quirkiness, there's something broken here. It’s really sad. And yet, I think there’s something deeply moving and deeply melancholic how this book portrays a found family of outcasts, queer or otherwise, who decided to create their own home carved out of the stars. Sounds familiar, huh? It did to me. I guess in some ways, we all need to find our own floating hotel somewhere out there. …Hey, it worked! I like this book now!!

“An Empire is a tricky thing to dismantle.”

[themadsquirrel09]

Find you ☆ Chapter 6

👉 Click here to go to chapter 1! 👀

👉 Or read on AO3 🕯

Fandom ☆ South Park

Ships ☆ KenMan ♡ KenEric (Eric Cartman x Kenny McCormick), Clybe (Bebe StevensxClyde Donovan) and Creek (Tweek TweakxCraig Tucker). There might be some glimpses of other ships.

Characters ☆ Kenny McCormick, Eric Cartman, Wendy Testaburger, Stan Marsh, Kyle Broflovski.

Rating ☆ M

Warnings ☆ Swearing, violence, fluffiness, tegridy. They are aged up here. It starts when they are 14, but happens mostly when they are 18, at the last year of school. 

Chapter summary ☆ Truth or dare?

☆ 1147 words ☆

With love: (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ Stan

When we go back to the house, they are playing truth or dare. I sit beside Cartman, who seems to be more in his usual mood today, loud and obnoxious. Maybe he was just acting differently because he was hyped to meet us again. When he sees me, though, he lets out a soft smile.

“Kenny!” I smile back. I’d totally do him. When I see the people who surround me, most are attractive in some way; I would bed at least half of them given the chance. I giggle at that thought and lean on Eric, he smells like cookies and beer. Sweet. 

“Ken-doll, truth or dare?”

“Dare.” I reply to Bebe, who gets to choose.

“Ok, I’ll go easy on you because you are a darling.” I wink at her, she is one of the few people I feel close to. “Just kiss the person you think is the hottest in the circle,”

“Oh, a classic!” I say, then look around, humming. When my eyes lock with Eric’s, I don’t give it a second thought and kiss him as the others cheer and whistle. When I’m done, he looks all surprised and flushed. I wonder if he is already drunk.

We keep playing and end up outside. Stan is trying to climb a tree, he has to scream from the top of his lungs that he is a loser and he is proud; that’s his dare, thanks to Kyle. But he can’t climb because he is laughing like an idiot.

“Come on, Stan! Do it already.” Kyle is getting pissed, which makes him laugh louder.

“Just let me breathe,” He holds his stomach. “You’ll make me puke!” 

“He is really taking it well this time.” Says Cartman, satisfied.

“Right? I feel bad for Wendy though, she didn’t even come.” I check. “Oh wait, she is right there.” Is she drunk? I haven’t seen her like this before. She looks at Stan and her smile breaks, then walks away. Wendy has always been crazy about Stan, maybe too crazy about him.

She is wasted, sad and going on her own, what if she tries to kill herself?

“Hey, Kenny.” Eric holds onto my clothes, looks down and to the side, like he is doubting.

“What is it? Are you drunk?”

“A bit,” He chuckles. “Tell me, did you mean it?”

“What?” He laughs and I snort, but then I remember Wendy. I see her walking away on zigzag. “Let's go with Wendy.”

“No way!”

“Dude, she is wasted and going on her own.” I pull him. 

“So? Fuck her!” He seems really pissed.

“I'll go alone, then.” I haven’t finished the phrase when I’m already turning.

“No, Kenny,” Cartman holds onto me. “I’ll go with you. Don’t get mad, we are having a good time here.” 

“Ok, but promise not to be an asshole,” He laughs, shrugging. "Just try to shut up and we will bring her back with the others.” 

“Alright, let's go,” I grab him by the hand and walk fast. “Kenny, you didn’t answer me.” He says when we are closer to Wendy, she is distracted watching the snow fall; seeing her smile again calms me down. I stop and face Eric to ask him:

“What are you talking about, Cartman?”

“You kissed me. Did you really think I’m the hottest in that circle?” Oh.  

“I did.” He looks down, frowning. “Is that bad?” 

“Do you have a fat fetish or something?” 

“What?” I think about it. 

“So?” 

“Give me a minute, will you?” I shake my head. “Some people who are fat are also hot to me, but not because of that.” He looks at me doubting and I shrug. I’m about to keep going, but he grabs me by the parka.

“Me too.”

“What?”

“I also think you were the hottest one there, Ken.” I grin at him, but he looks away.

“Thanks.” 

“Whatever.” He mumbles, then takes my hand and we keep going.

“Hey, Wendy!”

“Kenny, Cartman!” She exclaims happily.

Eric breathes out a what as she comes and wraps us in a hug. 

“How are you doing?” I ask as I hug her back.

“I think I shouldn’t be called Wendy.”

“Why?” Says Cartman and she giggles. “Ugh, let’s go get something to eat. She is wasted.”

“Hold onto us.” As we go back, she is listing all the names that would suit her better. When we are about to enter the house, Wendy let go of us; right at that moment Stan gets to the top of the tree and screams:

“I am a loser and I’m proud!” He raises a fist. At that, Wendy bursts into laughter and mumbles an:

“Aren’t we all?” Then starts sliding, like she is going to lay on the floor. I’m about to reach her when Cartman pulls her up in a swift motion. She hangs to the side, groaning.

“Come on, Wendy. You can break down later, we gotta eat!” She looks surprised, then gives him a half hug.

“I thought you hated me!” His gaze goes from her to me.

“I thought so too.” 

“You are so round, Cartman; like a small and angry version of that Baymax bitch.” I burst into laughter and Eric protests and curses, but keeps helping her until we are at Bebe’s kitchen. 

We end up eating, then chilling on the couch. Wendy falls asleep. I light a blunt to share with Eric.

“You like this, right?”

“Yeah, but I get paranoid, so you have to stay close.”

“Don’t get pissed, but she is right about the Baymax shit.” I say and, as I do, I squeeze him. 

“I guess I can’t complain about that right now.” He snatches the blunt from my hand.

“You have changed, Cartman. What was it?”

“A lot of shit I don’t want to talk about.” 

“Oh. Sorry,”

“It is better like this.” He smiles, then takes a drag.

We keep talking until the sun rises, just a few of us are still awake.

I wish there were more nights like this, I wish it didn’t feel like I’m right in the hurricane's eye.

Prev ☆ Next

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Looking for a Place to Happen

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series), age gap, general stupidity.

This is dark!biker!Sam Wilson x reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Series Synopsis: There’s lots happening in Birch and you find it all too amusing.

Sister series to Smalltown Bringdown, When the Weight Comes Down, Little Bones, and Fully Completely

Note: We’re starting Sam’s installment but this weekend I’ll probably only be catching up on my headcanons and drabbles because I’ve been a lazy bitch and I’m sorry to those who have been waiting.

Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

Chapter 1: I've got a job, I explore

💀💀💀

The sleepy town of Birch was awake. 

In those last weeks, the arrival of outsiders had roused the attention of many once passive residents of the timeless territory. Those brick buildings unchanged by the tick of the clock inlaid into the old tower above the library that chimed every hour on the hour. They still stood with only chips in the mortar but the air tasted different. The frost was more bitter and the sky more grim. An omen of something no one could predict.

It was the perfect setting for a screenplay. The isolated town with its unsavoury secrets and the visitors who threatened to bring them to the surface. It was inspiring to you, to imagine what was hidden behind the stern wrinkled faces of the town elders and under the jackets of those men who wore the cut of the local club. The bikers ruled the town covertly but everyone knew that Bucky Barnes’ palm was lined with the map of Birch.

As a bystander, an unnoticed observer, just another ant in the hill, you watched from the side and amused yourself with the drama of others. It was like a soap opera or another HBO hype machine. Those things you aspired to when you could be free of this ho-hum town.

The snows added to the natural gloom of the place. The deep heaps smothered the noise and harkened back to those days of colonial settlement. Forgotten, desolate, fearful. 

You ventured down in your heavy boots that stretched to your knees and pushed your chin down into your scarf. As a child, you ran and jumped in those piles, now you were out of breath just trying to walk past them.

You stopped in the bakery that doubled as the only café, a place where the owner, Babs, tried to to intimidate the last caffeinated trends. She was always a few seasons behind but you didn’t mind so much. 

You ordered the salted caramel mocha and waited patiently as the quiet woman fought with the steaming machines. She was older than you but you’d work with her for one summer during high school, only five years ago. She had the eyes of a child still, but there was something worn in her. As if she’d been exposed to far too much in her three or so decades in that place. She was a harbinger of what you didn’t want to become.

You thanked her for your drink and set out once more into the billowing winds. Birch winters were never kind but this one was crueler than most. Your teeth chattered as you blew the steam away from the lid and hugged it with your mittened hands.

You stopped short as you heard the familiar ding of the diner door across the street. You recognised the mechanic who kept to herself and once growled at you in the grocery store. She stormed across the street, followed closely and quickly by a black-haired man you’d only seen once before. He was one of those outsiders who came to deal with the club men.

You sped up as you sensed chaos brewing and pulled out your phone as you balanced your paper cup in your other hand. You flicked your camera on just as you got to the front of the shop and the man grabbed the mechanic. You let out an ‘oop’ as she turned on him and you aimed the lens at the couple as they fell into the snow, the man’s shoes giving little traction to his steps. 

You moved closer, stunned by the scene, and kept your cell phone rolling as you found a better angle around the snowy walks. As she choked him on the ground he elbowed her and she coughed as she rolled away. She snarled as he clamoured to his feet, slipping and sliding as he marched away.

You killed the recording and watched the man cross the street again, nearly wiping out as he did and when you looked back to the mechanic, she was gone behind the clattering door. You chuckled to yourself and tucked away your cell. It was prime footage for TikTok; with a bit of editing, it would be comedy gold.

💀

You stomped up the steps of your grandmother’s house, this time through the front door as you heard her chair rocking in the front room. You usually took the stairs in the back as you paid her to live on the upper floor of the duplex. You checked in with her daily, she didn’t get out much more than the occasional trip to the grocery store when you couldn’t or you dragged her out to join you for a tea at Babs’.

“You’re late,” she grumbled as you set your cup down and unzipped your coat.

“For what?” you scoffed.

“It’s after noon and you don’t even come down to say hello? A ‘good morning, nan’,” she harrumphed.

You chuckled and hung your coat before shoving your boots over on the mat. You grabbed your mocha and leaned on the doorway as you watched her crocheting in her chair, reruns of some court show playing from the boxy television.

“I was working,” you said, “sent in some stuff for review. Hopefully not much work to be done.”

“I don’t know how you make money on that interweb,” she bemoaned, “I don’t trust it.”

“Maybe you’d trust it more if you used the Netflix subscription I got you,” you crossed your arms, “then you wouldn’t have to watch trash daytime TV.”

She shrugged and muttered under her breath. She could be crotchety but you liked her sense of humour. Your aunts and uncles never came around because they just took it as spite. You were the only one who knew how to handle the jaded old lady.

“Maybe you coulda looked out the window,” you snickered, “quite a show going on in town.”

“Hmm, what’s that?” she stilled her needles and reached for her tea stained cup.

“Just a fight. You wouldn’t believe it, that lady mechanic beat the shit--”

“Language,” she huffed.

“Anyway, she had this guy in a chokehold. It was awesome.”

“What guy?” she squinted at you over her glasses.

“I dunno. Some out of towner. Remember I told you about that burly dude hanging around the library?”

“There’s more?” she sucked on her teeth, “those bikers have never been good news and now they’re bringing in more.”

“Yeah, well, what’re you gonna do?” you sniffed as you took out your phone and rewatched the scuffle with the volume down. You shook your head and opened up your TikTok. 

“I don’t understand why you’re always on your dang phone,” your grandmother pestered.

“I’m not always on my phone,” you smiled at her smugly, “there are those time when I’m listening to you prattle on or you know, making you tea, oh, and cooking you dinner. What was it I did last week? Oh that’s right, I got Pippin out of the crawlspace.”

“I’m too old to be chasin’ that cat all around,” she huffed, “where is he anyway?”

“He’s your cat, I don’t know? Last time I saw him, I sent him back out the window for shredding my charger.”

“He knows you need to give it a rest,” she laughed to herself, “got your nose to that screen too much.”

“And what do you do, old lady? Crocheting doilies to put where exactly?”

She gave you that dry smile, the one that said watch it but carried a hint of humour still. You hit post and put your phone away as you waved off her irritation.

“Well, you know what, I sit all day at my computer, doing who knows what and you know what it got me?” you taunted, “a large mocha!” you sipped as you sat on the sofa and grabbed the remote, “and it’s paying my rent and putting bullet points on my resume.”

“Mhmm,” she scowled, “just remember, real life ain’t online. Those videos you’re always laughing at like hyena, that’s not reality. You forget it and it’ll come back and bit you. ‘Specially with those bikers.”

“Oh, nan, you know too well, don’t you? Didn’t you have a fling with one back in your hippie phase?”

“Two, actually,” she raised her brows, “I was young and stupid. Not like you, but still.”

“I love you too,” you chirped and sipped from your cup, flicking the station to Jerry Springer, “that’s more like it.”

💀

Your usual TikToks were sarcastic and dull complaints about your small town life. The response was less than pleasing but it gave you an outlet to vent. You liked to goof around and document the very specific type of weirdos that resided in Birch. But the video of the fight in the snow blew up your phone and made it difficult to ignore the buzzing as you went back up to your room to eke out the last of your captions for the ad agency.

When at last you could call your day hard-earned, you logged off and sent in your hours to the agency. Social media promotion was easy enough but the working gigs for a thousand different companies was tedious. You hoped you could build your portfolio enough to manage a single corporate page as you continued to chip away at your creative outlets.

You picked up your phone as you waited for Netflix to load on your tiny smart tv and flopped onto your bed, not two feet from your desk. You hit the icon in the upper panel of your phone and scrolled through the notifications, pausing to turn on another episode of the cable sitcom from ten years before. You snorted as you read each comment but the number under the video made your eyes round. The thing was bound to go viral.

As usual, you went down to help with supper. Pippin, the orange tabby, returned to cry at his dish and you fed him too. Your nan peered through her glasses at a crossword as she tasted the tangy pasta sauce. 

“More basil,” she snipped.

“Well, I asked if you wanted to help,” you muttered, “I think it’s good.”

“Hmmp, I need milk,” she jutted her chin out, “for my after-dinner tea.”

“You couldn’t say something like three hours ago?” you blinked.

“I could have but I didn’t,” she snickered. You rolled your eyes and she took another forkful of penne and filled in another line on her puzzle, “ah, no hurry, girlie, you know I’m patient.”

“Patient? You?” you chuckled as you took your plate and shoved it in the microwave to keep it warm. The ancient thing had a dial and the door stuck, “I’ll just go get it over with.”

“Don’t forget your mitts,” she called after you as you tramped into the front room, “it’s cold.”

You pulled on your knitted cap and matching mitts. You zipped up your parka and shoved your feet into the deep boots. You grabbed your wallet and buried it in the spacious pocket. You bounced out the front door and down the steps as the sky sent down another coat of powder for the night.

You went up White Forge Street and through the short path behind the diner that led to the main road. You glanced over at The Asp, the beacon of the dull town, and turned towards the grocer. Like anywhere in Birch, the store was outdated and stuffy. It felt like stepping into another time with the paper bags and chunky tills.

You went down the center aisle and stopped at the fridge to search through the frosted glass. Your nan only drank whole milk and the last time you carelessly grabbed skim, she whined that even Pippin wouldn’t drink it. She was particular but that was just her nature. You couldn’t say you were any less fussy in some instances.

You grabbed a jug and the door slapped closed against the worn rubber seal. You headed up the candy aisle and brushed your woolly thumb over your chin as you considered gummy bears or Reeses’ Pieces.

“Hard choice?” The deep voice jolted you.

You snatched the box of chocolate and looked over at the man in leather, his chin tucked down behind the collar as snow dusted his shoulders.

“Sure,” you said as you brushed past him.

The cut of the leather told you he was better not entertained. While you thought the men amusing, you weren’t stupid enough to engage with them. You rarely listened to your grandmother but she was wise in her own way. 

You knew a girl in highschool, she was fucking around with one of the club men in her junior year, she ended up with a baby and no support. You didn’t think he was into you that way but he could hardly have innocent intentions.

“How’s the old lady?” Clayton asked as he rung in your order at the end of the belt, you moved along with the groceries and pulled out your wallet.

“The usual, you know? She’s tryna quit again. Don’t know how long it’ll last.”

“Oh yeah? I’ll keep a carton aside for her,” he kidded as you felt your phone vibing in your back pocket.

“Don’t encourage her,” you swiped your card and punched in your pin, “although I don’t know what’s worse; the smoke or her sucking on those mints all the time.”

“Oh, it’s not the bitchin’?” he laughed.

“That, too,” you scooped up the paper bag and put your wallet away, “have a good one.”

As you came to the end of the first counter, you were nearly cut off by the club member as he swept around from till two. His own purchase of a car magazine and jerky was tucked under his arm.

“Ah, sorry,” he smiled, a sparkling smile, almost charming.

“No worries,” you continued on and he followed close behind.

“Those mitts look real warm. ‘Specially in this weather,” he said as you pushed open the door.

“Uh huh,” you kept on as your boots crunched out into the snow.

“You know where I can get a pair. Leather isn’t exactly thermal, you know?”

“These? My nan made ‘em. I’m sure Clayton got some hung up back there,” you looked across the street as you stepped up onto the ledge of snow between the sidewalk and the road.

“Am I bothering you?” he asked.

You looked at him dumbly and almost laughed in his face. You glanced back across the street then down towards The Asp.

“Sorta,” you answered.

“Make you a deal. Leave ya alone for your name.”

You eyed him. He was older than you like many of the Commandos. At least a decade, likely more than that. You chewed on your hesitation and cradled the bag more firmly against your side. His eyes strayed as he tried to see through the thick layer of your coat.

“Nah, I’m not s’posed to talk to strangers,” you said and hopped off onto the road.

You heard him behind you as he struggled to follow and as you came up to the other side, he came parallel with you and kept stride with you easily.

“I know you’re young but you’re not a kid,” he intoned, “what’s the harm in a name?”

“It’s a small town,” you stopped short of the end of White Forge, “I think I know enough about you to avoid you.”

“Oh ho, is that it? Well, I’m Sam, I’m not a stranger now, am I?”

“Not interested, Sam. Sure there’s women your own age over at the bar,” you nodded behind him.

“You wanna come see? Maybe have a drink?” he gave a crooked grin.

“You don’t give up, do you?” you shook your head, put off by his forwardness.

“Well?”

“Not tonight, Sam,” you turned around and headed down White Forge.

“Then what night?” he asked but you didn’t answer and he didn’t follow.

You turned down onto your street and refused to look back in case. It would be best not to mention the run-in to your nan, she was paranoid enough as it was. Besides, you’d forget about it by the end of next week.

[ladyloveandjustice]

Spring 2021 anime overview: Quick Takes

Now for my Spring 2021 anime thoughts! I’ve decided from now on if a season’s like, 20- to-24 episodes I’m just going to wait ‘til it’s done to review it unless I feels super passionately, so though I watched To Your Eternity (it’s good!) and MHA (eh), I’ll comment on them next time. Also, for the record, I watched the first eight eps of Joran: Princess and Snow of Blood but I dropped it because it had clearly crossed the line from entertainingly dumb to boring dumb. 

I will probably give Supercub and some other stuff a shot later, this was a stacked season! May give updates on all that later, but this is what I have for now.

ODDTAXI

Quick Summary: A mild mannered middle-aged walrus taxi driver is drawn into a case involving a missing girl, yakuza, Youtube clout-chasers, manzai comedians and idols with big secrets.

It’s rare to walk away from media and be like “that is a singular experience I will definitely never see repeated again” but ODDTAXI is definitely one of those. A tense noir thriller murder mystery starring cartoon animals that spends an entire episode detailing the one (cat)man’s very fall into darkness triggered by addiction to gacha games and an online auction for a novelty eraser? Also there’s a porcupine Yakuza who speaks entirely in rap? Also there’s tons of meandering conversations about stuff like manzai comedy and the struggle to go viral on Twitter?

Admittedly, I had a hard time getting into the first episode, the dry meandering humor not being enough to hold my attention while I was sitting still, but once I watched this while I was working out at the end of the season, I found it an easy binge. A ton of characters with dark secrets or dangerous ambitions, each with their own part to play in a tableau of intersecting events- and it all actually comes together really well.(As for the female characters, it’s a pretty dude driven story, but they do get nuanced characterization and even some good heroic moments from one of them.)

 It’s a great example of a carefully planned narrative paying off, with all the twists appropriately seeded and foreshadowed to reward viewers who paid attention. Even when it ended on a perfect “OH SHIT” moment and denied me closure, I couldn’t help but respect it. If you that all sounds interesting to you, definitely check out the first couple episodes and see if you like it- you’re likely to have a memorable, satisfying experience!

Shadows House

Quick Summary: Emilyko is a ‘living doll’ who’s told she was created to act as the ‘face’ of her shadow master, Kate. The shadows and their ‘dolls’ all reside on the mansion and are required to pass a ‘debut’ to prove they’re a good pairing. If they don’t pass, they might be disposed of. And so the mystery of the Shadow mansion grows...

This slice of gothic intrigue was my favorite of the season, tied with ODDTAXI. With an interesting premise, slightly tense undertones and a strong focus on character building and relationships, it kept me hooked the whole way through. And for any squeamish fans put off by the hype about it, don’t worry, while there are some suspenseful elements, I wouldn’t qualify it as horror. I thought the relationship between Kate and Emilyko might end up being a completely sinister one, but it’s thankfully a lot more complex than that and it’s really interesting to follow how both their characters and relationship grow. The focus of the show is, unsurprisingly, on the “dolls” slowly discovering their autonomy and personhood as they struggle under the rigid system imposed on them by the mysterious elders of this weird Victorian mansion. Can they develop a more equitable relationship with their shadow “masters” (who are also shown to suffer under this system)? There’s a lot to dig into there, and the show has the characters develop through learning to understand and appreciate each other, which is pretty heartwarming. Our hero, Emilyko, is the typical plucky ball of sunshine (they even nickname her sunshine), but she’s also shown to be clever in her own off-the-wall way and she bounces off the far more subdued and cynical Kate well, not to mention the other ‘dolls’ she ends up befriending. 

What’s more, the show spends plenty of time to developing several other character pairings and combinations, and they all have their own interesting dynamic that makes you want to see more of them. Same-gender bonds are at the forefront of this show, and many of them are ripe for queer readings (I definitely appreciated the healthy helping of ladies carrying ladies), but even outside that it’s nice to see a show where a strong, complex bond between girls is at the forefront. My only real complaints about the show are the anime original ending is noticeably a bit rushed (though it’s not too bad, and leaves room for a season 2) and I wish the animation used the whole “shadow” theme more strikingly (like the opening and endings do)- instead the colors are a bit washed out which makes the shadows blend into the background sometimes. The “debut” arc also drags a bit in places, but it makes up for it by having a lot of good character integration.

I hope to check out the (full color)! manga soon and see more of this quirky, shadowy story. There’s some physical abuse depicted, sad things happening to characters and naturally the whole “oppressive familial system” thing, but otherwise not much I can think of to warn about. I give this one a big rec, especially If you’re a fan of gothic fairytales and stories of self discovery.  

Zombie Land Saga Revenge

Quickest summary: In this sequel season, everyone’s favorite zombie idol group must claw their way back into prominence after a disastrous show- the fate of the Saga prefecture LITERALLY depends on it!

This was a fun follow-up to the first season- if you liked the first zombie-girl romp, you’ll probably enjoy this one. In fact, there were a couple areas it improved on- namely, Kotaro failed, ate crow and embarrassed himself a lot more this season, which made him more likeable (as did the fact the girls gained a lot of independence from him). This season also shed more light on what the ‘goal’ of this zombie raising project is and what kind of shit Kotaro got involved with to make this happen, and it’s appropriately off-the-wall and ridiculous. We finally got some backstory for Yugiri too! I wish it had focused on more of her interiority, but she got to be a badass in it, and it was a treat to see this zombie idol show turn into a period piece for a couple episodes (also her song ruled).

 Tae also got a cute focus episode and there was a particular SMASHING performance early on! Also That revelation last season that had the potential to turn creepy hasn’t yet, and hopefully never will. The finale was heartwarming with big hints of more drama to come- I’m definitely down for more zombie hijinks!

Vivy: Flourite Eye’s Song

Quickest Summary: A songstress AI named DIVA (nicknamed Vivy) is approached by another AI named Matsumoto, who says he’s from the future and they must work together to prevent AI exterminating all of humankind 100 years from now.

This show is absolutely gorgeous visually with some really nice action scenes, but when it comes to the story my feelings basically amount to a shrug. It’s fine! I guess! Vivy starts out as an interesting layered character- and I guess still is by the end- with her stoic but stubborn determination bouncing off her fast-talking bossy partner Matsumoto well. She never listens to him, which is delightful. The way the show took place over the course of 100 years was an interesting conceit as well. However, it bought up a lot of themes and then sort of... dropped them. For instance, Vivy interprets her mission (PRIME DIRECTIVE if you will) as protecting humans at all costs, no matter how destructive said humans are or what their fate is supposed to be, and is perfectly willing to murder her fellow androids to do this, showing she inherently thinks of androids (herself and her own people!) as less worthy. Which is a little alarming! There’s a very dramatic point in the show where they bring this up as a potential conflict for her character but then it’s sort of...dropped. Pretty much.

Actually, despite the premise, the show doesn’t dip into the “AI rights” as much as you think it would with the main theme being more about Vivy’s search to find her own creativity and discover what it means to ‘pour your heart into something’. Vivy herself doesn’t actually care if she has rights or anything. Which is in some ways fine, because ‘AI as an oppressed class’ has been done to death, but IT’S ALSO KIND OF IN THE PREMISE, so that means that the show just shrugs really hard at a lot of the questions it brings up  basically just going “humans and AI should work together probably” and that’s it. There’s a lot that feels underexplored. The antagonists in the show also either have motivations that don’t really make sense or have boring hackneyed motivations. In the finale in particular, it feels like a lot of things happen “just because” and it falls a little flat.

I also have to warn that one of the arcs focus on a robot ‘pairing’ where the dude-coded robots actions toward his partner are straight up awful and rob her of her autonomy, but it’s played like a tragic love story. I suppose you could read it differently too, but it definitely made me go ‘ew’ the story seemed to want me to sympathize with this robo dude,

Overall, I wouldn’t anti-recommend this show, it’s an all right little sci-fic romp (and definitely SUPER pretty). My favorite element was definitely the episodes where Vivy develops an entirely new (an loveable) personality, because it played with the idea of of an AI getting “rebooted” really well and interplay between her two “selves” was done really well. But there are a lot of other parts of the show that just feel...a little underexplored and empty, making me have an ‘eh’ feeling on the show overall. It’s definitely an ambitious project, and while it didn’t quite stick the landing, there’s something to be said for a show that shoots for the stars and falls short over a show that just languishes in mediocrity.

Fruits Basket The Final

Quick summary: The final season of that dramatic drama about that weird family with a zodiac curse and the girl who loves them.

It’s very weird that after not cutting a lot out, they kinda sped through some material for, you know, the finale. I guess they thought they couldn’t stretch this final arc to 26 episodes? Or weren’t cleared for another double cour? However, though there were a couple places that felt awkward, despite being a bit condensed it mostly held together pretty well for a D R A M A T I C and ultimately heartwarming conclusion. I was really disappointed they kept the part where Ritsu cut their hair for the ‘happy ending’, I thought  their intro episode not showing them in men’s clothes meant the anime had decided their presentation didn’t need to be “fixed” but WELL I GUESS NOT. That was the only big upset for me though, otherwise the adaptation went about how I expected, sticking to the source material. Furuba has a lot of bumps, from weird age gap stuff to ...gender, but it also has a lot of important feels and great character arcs. It was a gateway shoujo for many and has its important place in animanga history, so I’m glad it finally got a shiny, full adaptation.

[project-paranoia]

Let’s Watch: Yin Yang Master: Dream of Eternity

I have watched this movie 85 Whole Entire Times and I do not regret.  The only thing wrong with this movie is that it wasn't a fifty episode series.  I cried, I laughed, I fell in love.  The cinematography is on point, the acting is amazing, the crew member who put snow on people's eyebrows did an amazing job, and the acting!  The subtlety, the gentleness, the love and affection, the discussion of race is one of the best I've ever seen.

As people have pointed out before in series like X-Men that fear of mutant's is practically if not thematically justified due to the laser eyes in a way that fear of ethnic minorities just isn't in real life.  In Dream of Eternity however humans are equally if not sometimes more super powered than the yao they hunt.  Demons - very much not in the Christian sense - are a mixture of spirits, resentful souls, and animals and plants who cultivated to human form.  They often appear human at first glance and in some cases the extent of their power seems to be the limited to turning into a smaller more vulnerable animal.  Qingming's deliberate care and gentleness not only reflects his upbringing as a Yin Yang Master, but parallels the experience of racial minorities labelled as aggressive.

The movie takes particular care as well in the way it looks at trauma, grief, and love.  The three of which haunt the main characters and send out ripple effects into the world around them.  In the world of Dream of Eternity no loss is purely private, it spools out into the world around the person effected until they make an effect to acknowledge and deal with their experiences.  Qingming's warmth and gentleness isn't just marked by his behaviour but by the orange light he's lit by and his variety of shishen - but he is also separate, standing alone in frame and facing away from the people around him.  Boya's loss has made him unforgiving and as cold as the blue light he's lit in, and yet he is open and instinctive, talking and acting as soon as the thought enters his head.  The Empress is lost and drifting, trapped and grief stricken, vulnerable to those who profess to love her.  The film is simple, it says and shows what it means when it means it - but it is also as complex as the very human characters it depicts.  

The movie is made even more complex by its pull from theaters.  Claims of plagiarism drench the edges of the movie, which as true as the assertion that Fan BingBing went on a spa vacation in 2018.  Although this blog is about Chinese censorship dealing specifically with BL content, Chinese censorship also effects those who criticize governmental policy.  I hope that supporters of this blog will also support Chinese media threatened by censorship for many reasons so that artists and others involved in film making can continue to make meaningful content.

Doing a watchthrough of a movie is not feasible, but please enjoy a few thousand words - with spoilers on Yin Yang Master included:

* That gentle chiming and rain soundscaping is so soothing, what a great way to calm and lull the audience before the movie even starts * Qingming is so small and isolated in the frame - cinema! * The lighting and cinematography is just so good * Shifu, soft gentle teacher * So much love stored in the Shifu * Instant grow * This boy is Sassy * This theme of deflection in Qingming's character is established early * Deflection with a teleportation portal and then immediately deflection verbally * Shifu is certainly an attractive man aged up, but his face is also soft and gentle, something to note when his double pops up later * Also the awkward question of don't you have someone you want to protect, maybe part of the problem is that shifu is just really bad at wording things * The answer that yes he does has several meanings, one of which is immediately apparent when Shifu acts out one of those Father Saves Child By Yeeting them youtube videos * ACtion MuSIC * I love them your honour * The spirit guardian's design is so specific and elegant, absolutely superb you funky little shishen * I wonder if Qingming ever thinks about that if he didn't come back with all his fellow disciples that Shifu would have been fine * Maybe it's not that he doesn't have someone he wants to protect and more that he believes that he's not capable of protecting those he wants to * subtle indication Shifu's qi is corrupted * Precious Magic Childe ;-; * The framing, I'm living for it * The Serpent graphic is lovely * Also the way they set things up * Qingming cares so much about his shifu * Mark Chao just has the ability to crumple his face like paper * Sad Time exposition involving the corrupting influence of desires * "When you're gone I'll be all alone" in just about all you need to know about Qingming at this point in the story * Also like, sympathy for Shifu in raising this lonely child.  By all accounts he was an absolutely superb father figure, and Qingming I'm sure was not an easy child to raise.  He's the sort of kid that would take a lot of calm and patience. * Slumber party! * It's kind of interesting that this is an activity Fangyue and He Shouyue are doing together.  He's definitely obsessed and in love with her and she's just doing friends and family activities with him * Also yellow/gold lighting is kind of their thing * It's interesting how they do the make up for He Shouyue.  The actor is very attractive, but they make him up to look doll like, a little too pretty, a little too shiny.  Like a porcelain doll. * Cool lit Boya and warm lit Qingming appear! * Camels! * The framing is so good, they're careful to be sure he's shown as obviously isolated as much as possible * And it should go without saying that I adore the City * The matte painting is outstanding * But there's also the lighting, the vignettes, the clusters, the foliage * It is a supremely beautiful set * The irony that Killing Stone is playing along with Boya's music and then it's Boya who kicks him around * A small note, but one I appreciate - even when Boya has warm highlight's they're red instead of orange * "It's Jason Bourne!" * I hope Qingming paid for that water taxi * It's interesting how Killing Stone goes from the safety of Qingming's orange light to the danger of Qingming's blue * Colour related foreshadowing! * Look at this poor sweet man, how could anyone suspect him of anything.  He's just a sad man who loves his dead wife * Qingming's use of a fan is interesting - battle fans show up all over wuxia and xianxia, but it feels like it also ties into the way he's so very careful in how he presents himself.  There's that quote that a sword can only be a sword but other weapons are also able to serve other purposes - not a perfect quote but the point is got across. * The way Qingming just knocks Boya back, like get An Clue, my dude * The way that Killing Stone curls around the pipa ;-; * So the movie is based on the book series 'Onmyoji' by Yumemakura Baku.  The books start with Seimei (Qingming) and Hiromasa (Boya) already in a relationship talking about various cases Seimei has recently experienced.  Plotwise, obviously the stories are different, however thematically Seimei and Hiromasa discuss why some yao stick around and solutions to the difficulties and dangers they might cause - which is generally from Seimei's very successful perspective to listen and treat them like humans.  So in that way the plots of the books and the movie are quite different, but the themes are just about identical. * Boya says Don't Talk Me I Angy and also that demons don't have feelings and Qingming's face takes out a billboard that's just like Ah, Another Fantasy Racist, Excellent * Qingming also does what should be done in this situation, taking care of the victim not the racist * Fight scene!  Fight scene! * Qingming's first few moves aren't to attack, they're to distract and just hold his fan up to block Boya's way and his view - it's only when Boya persists in attacking that Qingming fights back * Qingming's sassy smile, he is very much deliberately irritating Boya as much as he's refocusing his attention and distracting him * "nICE sWORD" * I've sighed that sigh before * This boy is taking great pleasure from teasing Boya, but also he makes a really good point * I understand and relate to what Qingming did, but also I can understand why Boya was ready to throw rocks at Qingming when he saw him again * Killing Stone lit in Qingming's orange light again * Killing Stone, my beloved * A good gauge to the state of the world for yao is no one has told this sweet boy before that demons have feelings too * There are several lines like this in the movie that just drop kick you with Implications * The same way Qingming clung to Zhongxing, Killing Stone wants to join up with Qingming to have some compassion in his life * The way he asks to be a spirit guardian is so formal too, and Qingming is so gentle with him, I cry ;-; * The warm orange light of Qingming's love ;-; * He heals the wounds * It took me an embarrassing amount of time to realise it's the actual imperial degree speaking and not one the of Jingyun Temple Masters * The mutual this guy again is delicious * "Is it because of your pretty face" * Boya draws his sword so fast and Qingming is so amused by it * Longye!  Queen!  I love her! * The two of them seem to understand each other instantly * Those sassy little smiles * He Shouyue looks even more like a doll than before * Longye has her head on a swivel from second one, she plays the Maiden so well like she's not a skilled master * And her customer service smile * Qingming is shooketh

* What happens next?  You'll have to watch and find out!

[jimlingss]

ooo exciting !!! jungkook + romance/fluff + "kiss me" + e2l

Anonymous said: Can I request a fluffy jungkook fic with a touch of angst. Any AU you want and maybe a friends to lovers? Feel free to decline :)

Anonymous said: a fluffy “oh! you’re jealous” prompt with Jungkook pls? any au is fine☺️

Anonymous said: jungkook, prompt list 1 - #27: “Are you blushing?” :> i hope you have a lovely holiday season!!

Anonymous said: Friends to lovers!! Or enemies to lovers pls!! I love that shit

This is the most ambitious crossover of requests since Avengers lol jk.

↳ Suspended, Seduced, Surprised!

1.9k || 99.5% Fluff, 0.5% Angst || Jeon Jungkook || E2L, Huddle For Warmth!AU (sort of)

It started off with Jungkook coming out of nowhere and nearly scaring the living daylights out of you.

He laughed — that noisy sound that makes his nose scrunch — and you rolled your eyes, turning back around in the line. When the ski lift chair arrived, he asked if he could come too. You told him to kindly fuck off, but in the next second, he slid next to you, smiling widely.

It was too late for him to get off. Not when your feet was already lifted off the ground.

You don’t know why he’s so adamant about bothering you. If Taehyung didn’t tell you at the last minute that Jungkook was coming along, you would’ve just not come on this trip and ruin your winter break like this.

“Why didn’t you go with Sana?”

The ski lift is ascending upwards at an incline, moving past the coniferous trees and those skiing down the mountain beneath you. Luckily, it wasn’t too sunny or snowy out. But the air was still sharp with frost that’s long made your cheeks numb. Every exhale past your parted lips creates a cloud of condensation.

Jungkook’s thick brow lifts and he pushes his ski goggles up onto his head, on top of his blue beanie like yours. His doe eyes look at you. “Why would I go with her?”

You shoot him an incredulous expression. You don’t know why he’s playing dumb. “I thought you were trying to get cozy with her.”

The corner of Jungkook’s mouth slyly curls and he leans in. “Oh. You’re jealous.”

Instantly, your face contorts into a disgusted expression and a boyish laugh bubbles out of him. 

“I would,” he says, “but she already has a boyfriend.”

“She does?”

Jungkook hums. “Some guy two years older than us, majoring in finance.”

Oh. You didn’t know that.

Suddenly it sinks in that you’re having an actual conversation with Jungkook. One where he’s being a cocky asshole only a tiny amount and you can actually bear through it. It almost feels like you’re….friends.

But right as the thought comes to mind, the ski lift chair halts and momentarily swings. You jolt, looking at the chair ahead of you that’s frozen as well before turning around. “What happened?”

“I don’t know.” Everyone is seemingly as confused as you are. “It looks like we’re stuck.”

You groan. “Oh shit.”

Five minutes later, Taehyung comes wandering underneath you. He stands by a tree on the sidelines and cups his gloved hands around his mouth. “Oh my god!” he screams at the top of his lungs. “I finally found you guys!”

“Taehyung!” You shout back at him. “What’s going on?!”

“Well, I was looking around for ages and Jimin wanted to give up since he thought you went down to the lodge and I told him no way—”

“Dude!” Jungkook shrieks and you wince at the sheer volume of his voice. “We get it!”

You remember why he grinds on your nerves so badly. Everything Jeon Jungkook does just irritates you. Including the fact that he was currently trying to burst your eardrums.

“Right! Sorry! They said it would be fixed in half an hour! Hang in there!” Taehyung fist pumps the air with a rectangular grin as if it’s enough to encourage the two of you and you sigh loudly. 

“Whelp.” Jungkook settles back into his seat. “Looks like we won’t die.”

“Great.”

“Are you cold?”

You turn to the boy, surprised that he’s actually considerate enough to—

“We could always get naked, you know,” he adds, shattering the image of him that had curated in your mind for point two seconds and it flees as quickly as it came. “To converse heat.”

Your mouth opens, speechless. You shake your head. “Right when I thought you were being nice to me for once.”

Jungkook grins unabashedly. “I am being nice. Contrary to popular belief, I don’t flirt like this with anyone else and if you ask me, I think it’s working too.” The bastard leans in and you lean backwards to keep more distance. He bats his pretty lashes. “Are you blushing?”

You deadpan, “It’s literally negative thirty degrees out.”

He laughs again.

The both of you get comfortable, laying your ski poles across your laps, and looking out at the snowy mountain landscape that’s all too peaceful. Or at least until you feel a poke through your puffed jacket.

You look down to find Jungkook handing you a heat pack from his pocket. “It’s not much but it might help.”

“....Thanks.”

Strangely, the guy doesn’t brag about how kind he is or how much you should appreciate the gesture. He simply starts to hum to kill time. It’s soothing. Kind of nice to listen to even.

You enjoy it until he abruptly stops and asks— “Why do you hate me so much?”

You look at him. “Seriously?”

Jungkook smiles and it’s somehow reminiscent of a rabbit. “What? Nothing like confronting people when they’re trapped in a spot with nowhere to run, right? Plus, this is a good opportunity to be reflective, don’t you think?”

You scoff, not sure where to begin. But there’s no reason why you should spare him from the truth of why you grew to have such a strong distaste for him. If he wants to know, you’ll happily let him know. 

“How about for never calling me back after you slept with me? Is that a good enough reason for you?”

Jungkook’s head whirls over. The bomb’s been dropped.

You feel his stare on your profile. It goes deathly quiet. 

It’s the biggest resentment you held against him, what made his cocky attitude even uglier to you. Maybe you shouldn’t be so angry. It wasn’t like he vowed anything would happen afterwards. Maybe he thought it was supposed to be a no-strings attachment thing. But it wasn’t like that for you.

Jungkook acted interested when you first met. He sweet-talked you. He led you to believe there would be something more. And when there wasn’t— well, the rest is history.

You wonder if Jungkook’s shriveling up and cringing for asking in the first place or if he’s remotely ashamed. You hope he is. It serves him right. The audacity he has to talk to you casually after ghosting you so brutally like that is insulting. You wonder how he’ll respond, if he’ll regret bringing the subject up, if he’ll try to conjure some kind of half ass apology—

“Because you never gave me your number.”

This time, your neck snaps towards him. Jungkook’s gaze is unwavering.

“You’re the one who ditched me,” he says. “You were gone when I woke up.”

“I wrote you a note. On a napkin on the dresser.”

The man, in the blue snowboard jacket and black ski pants, frowns. “No, you didn’t.”

“Yes, I did. Do you think I would lie about this?”

“Then I never saw it.”

It’s easy for Jungkook to lie. One of his many talents is his pretty lips that has easy words rolling off his tongue like butter. But by his expression, the slight pout of his mouth, the furrow of his brows, you can tell he’s being genuine. There isn’t any facade, any flirtation.

“I would’ve remembered if I saw it cause that morning Taehyung woke me up and he never wakes up before me. But he was whining because of his allergies and needed me to run to the pharmacy—”

The pair of you go silent.

It dawns on you both.

Kim Taehyung.

Knowing Taehyung and his godforsaken allergies, he must’ve taken the napkin and sneezed right into it. He probably threw it in the trash or took it with him and crumpled it into his hand. God fucking dammit. 

“It wasn’t my fault,” Jungkook murmurs, his eyes rounded at the realization.

You shift uncomfortably. The possibilities of what-if storm your mind. What if Jungkook saw it, what if he texted you or called you afterwards like he promised. What if you didn’t meet again on accident through Taehyung but continued the communication yourselves. Could he be sitting here next to you as someone more in your life?

But you brush the thoughts away as it overwhelms you.

“That’s funny,” you pipe up, mustering some stiff laughter, breaking the silence. “At least we solved one mystery.”

“Y/N.”

“It’s cold.” You wrap your arms around you. “We should stop talking and conserve heat.”

Jungkook nods and the pair of you quiet down. But without conversation, time drags on slower.

You peek a look at him and instead of being deep in thought like you thought he’d be, Jeon Jungkook is looking around, blinking with his doe eyes, the black strands from his bangs nearly pricking into them. He’s completely nonchalant and you internally sigh to yourself.

You’re not sure what you were expecting. 

Jungkook is Jungkook.

That note on the dresser probably wouldn’t have changed anything.

“Y/N.” He speaks up a minute later.

“What?”

“You know how we could keep warm?”

“What.”

“Kiss me.”

You could not roll your eyes harder.

An enormous grin spreads into Jungkook’s cheeks, irises twinkling from the snow’s refraction. The little shit has too much fun annoying you and he jumps at the chance to continue to egg you on, “Why? Too scared to? Think you might fall in love with me now that we cleared the air and you don’t hate me anymore?”

He bats his lashes exaggeratedly.

You scoff. “Yeah right. As if.”

“Then why not?”

Your head spins around to face him, momentarily taken aback at how he’s a few inches away but you conceal your expression just as quick. You don’t know why he’s so insistent on this terrible joke. “Why? Do you want me to kiss you?”

Jeon Jungkook’s grin taunts you.

You loll your head to the side, eyes narrowing into slits. “You think I won’t do it.”

“I’m just trying to improve the mood.” He sits back and shrugs, having too much fun watching your explosive reactions. “It doesn’t matter what I say to you. You’re a dog with all bark but no bite, Y/N. I know you too well.”

Your jaw clenches at the challenge. At his mocking tone. At the bastard’s audacity.

And just to prove him wrong, you grab Jungkook’s face in your hands and turn him towards you. In one breath, you aggressively slam your mouth against his. It almost hurts. Your teeth nearly clash. But you barely feel anything with your numb lips except for how chapped his lips are.

It’s a brief kiss, but enough to prove yourself.

You pull away with a cocked brow and small smirk, relishing in his wholly stunned expression.

At that same moment, the ski lift jolts and starts to move again. Someone behind you cheers. 

“You don’t know me at all, Jeon Jungkook,” you murmur softly, seductively and with the smirk still plastered on your features. The unloading zone approaches, so you move the safety bar, stand up from the ski lift chair and glide away.

Jungkook’s delayed, but follows after you helplessly a second later. You turn around while you still have the chance and he stares at you, blinking owlishly. 

“If you want to make me blush or get jealous, you’re going to have to try a lot harder than you have been, Jeon. You should probably work on your kissing skills too. Staying like a dead fish isn’t appealing to me.”

You glide away on your skis before he can get another word in. In the meanwhile, a grin slowly spreads into Jungkook’s cheeks and he decides to accept your challenge.

[the-huntress]

Little Moth - Chapter 1 - The Beginning Is The End Is The Beginning

[Hi guys, welcome to my fanfiction. This is a Resident Evil inspired fanfiction, I wanted to incorporate a number of my favourite characters, and especially our beloved Magnet Daddy. Slow burn, soft smut impending, beyond that who knows… But to be safe I will say that this is for 18+ years of age only. Let me know if you’d liked to be on a tag list for future chapters. Masterlist is pinned. Thank you to everyone that has read so far. <3]

Masterlist

Trigger Warnings: Mention of menstruation, swearing.

Y/N Protagonist, female. Reader X Karl Heisenberg [18+]

Summary:

Your lifelong friend, Leon Kennedy, has mysteriously gone missing two years after the events of Racoon City. You make a discovery that could lead to his whereabouts; dare you enter the Village?

[Photos are my own] You weren’t sure exactly what you were looking at for a moment, arching your back forwards over the desk in the dimly lit room, the glare from the laptop the only source of light. Several windows had been left open on the screen, and despite the turmoil that Leon’s apartment had been left in, this was what had really grabbed your attention.

The most notable of which was a photo, the resolution was grainy, a scan from a black and white film photo, it looked almost like a foetus, but you couldn’t be sure. Was somebody pregnant? It was almost akin to the sort of photograph that expecting parents would show at a baby shower, but this was… different. You had a feeling of impending doom just by looking at this thing.

Next, another very grainy photo of a town, it almost looked like some of the places from back home in England; a church steeple, a castle or maybe a mansion in the distance? A quaint looking village in the snow. And lastly, a very cryptic email;

                                               10/10/2000

Leon,

Know not what I have done, but what I believe must be done now.

Half of the results of good intentions are evil; half of the results of an evil intention are good.

You have the information that you need, please make haste.

A friend.

Well, that’s ambiguous as fuck. You thought to yourself, pushing the chair back and pulling the lighter from the little band on the side of your cap. You reached to your shoulder and cursed. That’s right, you’d given up, “for health reasons”. Putting the lighter back you reached instead for your camera, a notepad and a pen. You’d been tempted to just take the laptop and the scattered papers, but after several years in the police you knew it was beneficial to leave things as they were. Your eyes flitted from paper to paper, taking notes of numbers, flights, times, place names, anything that you could until you’d filled a couple of pages. One page for practical info, and one page, now that you looked at it almost sounded like a fairy tale;

A village, four kings, four lords, and a mysterious ‘Mother Miranda’. You bit the end of the pen and pondered. It was like nothing you’d ever heard of before, what had he got himself into…

Several days ago you had received a text from the man himself;

‘Y/N I am going to be out of

town for a while, something has

come up. Please don’t worry,

will explain soon. Leon. X

P.S. I’ve left Timesplitters in

your mail box, play you again

when I get back! :] ’

And now here you were. You scoffed knowing he’d have had to pay double to send that one, but he was mad to think that you wouldn’t worry, he was like a brother to you, hell, the only family that you had. After a childhood growing up in rural England you had moved to the states with your father and stepmother when you were in those vulnerable years of your teens during the early 90s, but were lucky enough to have met Leon in school. The two of you had become best friends quickly, and even graduated from the same police academy. It was Leon that saved your butt two years ago when all hell broke loose in Racoon City, him and Claire.

You shifted on the collapsible chair in front of the usually neatly tidied desk which was now strewn with various papers and articles. Your thoughts of Claire continued, and you pulled out your Nokia, opened a message and then faltered. It was late. Later than late you realised, seeing the time; 02:08 AM. What am I doing? You didn’t want to wake her, so you put the phone back into the pocket on your belt.

You swept a strand of your hair behind your ear, the outgrown bangs jumping back in the way and you blew at them irritated. You heard a grumble and moaned, looking down at your stomach. Padding across the shiny, tiled floor you left the desk and headed to the kitchen, opening the fridge where you knew there would be left-over pizza. Sure, it was from over a week ago when you were last here hanging out, but hey, it’s pizza, right?

‘Ugh dude, always with the anchovies, why?’ you mumbled, flinging a small fish into the bin and mentally backhanding the back of Leon’s head. Of course, it was his side of the pizza that was left over, probably trying to stay in shape in case he bumped into ‘Ada’ again. You weren’t keen, but then, you didn’t trust her. You looked at your phone again, left on the desk besides the laptop, Leon would be much better off with Claire, but sadly you felt perhaps that ship had set sail long ago.

You went to sit yourself back down at the desk. CRUNCH “Shit!” Your eyes darted to your right knee. “Fuck… you’re not giving me a break are you.” Letting out a sigh you closed your eyes for a moment. Since you were a child your knee had given you problems. A few dislocations, hospital visits, insteps, braces and physiotherapy. You’d had to grit your teeth hard through every physical training session during academy, but you’d made it. Fortunately for you it wasn’t something that many people would be able to notice or spot. You could run for miles with no problem; it was the recovery time in the days that followed that was tough. You knew it was getting worse, and had been reading about how much longer you might have before you’d need a full replacement, but you knew that it could jeopardise your job, you knew you’d likely not get put on the jobs that you wanted, and the thought of being put into the office answering calls made your heart sink.

And then you spotted it, the corner of another window was sticking out from under the others, exposing the corner of a third photograph. Instantly recognising the symbol you felt as though you were falling.

“What…”

Dragging the window and clicking it to full screen you could see this photograph clearly; some kind of mural, was it in stone? It looked as though there were four crests, family crests maybe. And at the centre; “Umbrella.” You breathed. You stared at it for several minutes and quickly took a photo of the screen on your camera, no point trying to get that old thing to work, you thought, looking at the printer at the other end of the desk. You couldn’t help but smirk, memories of Leon trying to print page after page of game walk throughs, whilst trying to find all the secrets in your favourite action/ adventure game, and laughing your head off at him, mouthful of noodles spilling back out into the carton as a hundred pages shot out at him, flying all over the room with cheat codes for a scantily dressed version of the playable character.

You looked at the clock again, time to go. If you were going to do this, you needed sleep and to get going as soon as you could the next day. It might drain your bank account, but it would be worth it. You didn’t have a good feeling about any of this, and more often than not, your gut instincts were right. Grabbing your R.P.D jacket at the door, you took one last glance at the room. It really did look like a whirlwind had hit it, not like Leon when he was in a better mental state at all. You knew that when he wasn’t his best he’d reach a for a drink and then some, but you could see that nothing was broken, and it was mostly clothes scattered, some bits of equipment and where he’d clearly got the luggage bag down from on top of the wardrobe. Nothing to worry about in regard to kidnap or a break in at least; as if that was enough to stop you from worrying about whatever lay ahead in this ‘Village’.

It started to rain just as you got into your apartment building, and you smiled. You’d always liked the rain. Stopping to quickly check your pigeon-hole for mail and seeing nothing you felt something press up against you calf, rubbing itself against the tops of your boots. You looked down and grinned, scooping up a slender, black cat in one hand and kissing the top of her head. “I’m going to miss you Boo, keep an eye on my mail for me while I’m gone, you know how crammed that thing gets.” You winked at her as you set her back down outside Mrs. Little’s door and fished a sandwich bag full of the leftover pizza anchovies out of your R.P.D. bag. “You didn’t think I’d forget you, did you?” Leaving Boo hastily munching into her treats you jogged up the stairs, your knee twinged, but it wasn’t too bad. It just had its moments.

Your apartment was pretty standard for this part of the city; both you and Leon had left Racoon city some time ago, though it wasn’t far from here. It had been destroyed and bordered off and that was all there was too it. You had to tell it to yourself that way to cope. Leon’s apartment was slightly swankier, but then again, he did like his gadgets and liked to keep things tidy, when his thoughts weren’t somewhere else. You on the other hand were happy to know that while everything had its place, sometimes that place would be on the floor… next to the thingy and nestled safely under a cereal box; and that was okay! You picked up the thingy, and looked at it fondly, before folding it up and putting it away with the others.

Stretching and yawning you looked around you, making a mental note of what needed to be done; pack, shower, sleep. You’d get the tickets the next day, and some money too, you’d have to stop off at the currency exchange. What currency did they even use there? Equipment, keep it simple; knives, pistol, rounds, lighter, fluid, compass, torch, camera, medi-kit. A couple of spare pairs of clothes, and you had your light armour that also fit into the case. You knew the contents would raise suspicion, but you had your badge, at the end of the day another cop had gone missing, and your team knew too.

You whipped off the remainder of your uniform and jumped in the shower, the bathroom filling up with steam and bubbles quickly and you sang along to a few songs on the radio. Wiping the mirror to see yourself more clearly you felt all your insecurities flood to you at once, as well as seeing yourself for the natural beauty that you were. You pursed your lips, staring into your own eyes and promised you’d find him safe and bring him back. He’d yell at you for going in the first place, but you knew this wasn’t right. Something wasn’t right. Traipsing out from the bathroom, you felt the cool air attack your flushed skin. You liked it, you were always a window open kind of person, no matter the weather, the fresh air just soothed you. Of course, that meant the odd moth now and again, like now as you heard the tiny body plummet time and time again against the spherical glass shade of the dim lamp besides your bed. Snuggling up into the loose blankets you smiled at the little creature and pulled the cord on the lamp, smiling again as you felt the moth settle on the side of your head.

After that you actually fell to sleep very quickly. It had been a long day after all; a 6AM start, patrol, arresting some juvies for petty crimes, followed by yet another zombie scare, (false alarm thank God), before filing up all the paper work and heading to Leon’s. Sleep fell like a veil of cool clouds, taking you in and raising you up into the inky blue skies of the night. The next thing you knew, you were butt naked in a dark green forest, dew drops shining on moss like a trillion tiny emeralds. Mist hung thick in the air, and thousands of tiny moths flew up from the ground? No. From you. You were raising your arms up to the skies, the moss covered forest floor moist under your bare feet and between your toes. Behind you the silhouette of a deer… antlers, but much, much taller. In front of you a pair of cold silver-gold eyes in the dark. You felt drawn, ever so drawn, taking one step forward, and then another, your arms coming down now, hands outstretched in caring caress, your heart swelled, your lips bloomed, taking in a short breath, and then; blood. Gushes of it, soaking into the moss, reddening Earth’s green carpet, and dripping down the trunks of the trees, the moths falling from the air around you, their wings sticking and stopping in the thick, red mess.

“Shit!” You fell back down onto your bed, several items around you also crashing down. Hand to your head, you looked wildly about. It happened again. Whatever had fallen this time had been heavy. You turned to see half the cutlery that had been lying on the kitchen tops now on the floor, and the knives and pistol that you’d placed earlier on top of the luggage bag were now in the middle of the floor. A sudden feeling of loneliness washed over you. The same dream, but longer, and this time with blood. “Shit” again, you put a hand to your pants, pulled the covers back and saw red. “Well, that’s one more thing I need to bring with me.” You mumbled, rolling your eyes, and throwing yourself back onto the bed.

Song Suggestion: ‘The Beginning Is The End Is The Beginning’ by The Smashing Pumpkins

[fruitcoops]

eve omg omg omg the jules fic was so amazing!!!! i'm so excited for the rest :))))

Here’s part two of Adventures in Babysitting! The editing was being finnicky, so I’m sorry for the wait. Hope you enjoy! Sweater Weather and Jules credit belongs to @lumosinlove!

“Are you warm enough?” Sirius asked as he swiped Jules’ bangs beneath the edge of his beanie. Jules nodded, still sleepy even at seven thirty in the morning. “D’accord, let’s get going. Re, did you let Hattie out?”

“Yep, she’s all set in the living room.” Remus kissed him as he passed, hauling his duffel up and resting his hand between Jules’ shoulder blades to guide him down the steps. “Careful, buddy, it’s slippery.”

“I know,” Jules mumbled. “D’you think it’ll snow?”

Sirius looked up—the sky was still fairly dark, but smudges of thick grey clouds seemed to be rolling in. “Probably.”

The drive to the rink was quiet and peaceful; a six o’clock wake up call was tough even on the best of mornings, when they didn’t have a third tiny person to worry about. Regulus sounded like he was waking as they left the house, and Sirius hoped he’d stick around long enough to say goodbye. Pascal’s house wasn’t far, but Sirius knew he would miss having him around.

“Morning, boys,” Remus called as they entered the locker room.

“Morning,” Kasey yawned, stretching his thigh out. “How’s the kid?”

“Sleepy.”

“Big mood. He’s with Moody again today?”

“Yep. They’ll probably come watch again at some point.” Remus smiled to himself. “Thank you guys for showing off yesterday, by the way. He couldn’t stop talking about it the whole evening.”

“Who’s ready to win a game?” James whooped, barging in and looking far too awake for his own good.

Leo frowned. “Game’s tomorrow, Pots.”

“It’s never too early to get hyped, baby rookie.” James patted him on the head as he passed and Leo scowled.

“I’m not a rookie anymore! Loops is!”

“If I call Loops a rookie, he’s going to make sure I never have children again,” James laughed, throwing a t-shirt to Remus from across the aisle. “Here, I borrowed that a couple weeks ago.”

Remus gave it a tentative sniff. “Dude, you didn’t even wash it?”

“It’s something to remember me by.”

“You’re a walking nightmare.”

“Nah, you love me.”

There was a new intensity to their practice that morning—they had beat the Ravens before, sure, but that didn’t mean they were guaranteed to win this time. Even James centered himself, tapping a puck back and forth with Remus until it was nothing but a blur between them. Sirius didn’t see Jules or Moody at any point throughout their ice time, which left him a little disappointed when the timer went off and it was time to hit the gym.

They all did lighter workouts, more like cool down exercises rather than legitimate muscle-building routines. Sirius let himself fall into the rhythm of squats, pushups, and jump-roping until each beat of his heart aligned with the impact of his feet on the mats. The jingle of his ringtone finally signaled the end of practice and a collective sigh went up.

“See you tomorrow, gents,” Nado said as he stood and stretched his back. Sirius felt the mood change as the pre-game heaviness settling over them like a weighted blanket.

Remus wandered over and gave his shoulder a light nudge. “I’ll shower and get Jules while you finish up, yeah?”

“Sounds good. I’ll be quick.” Sirius pressed their foreheads together in lieu of a kiss before turning back to the rest of the guys as stretches began. “You know the spiel. Get some sleep, carb load, all that jazz.”

“Got it, Cap,” Leo said. He tried for a smile, though he looked troubled.

“The Ravens are a great team, but we’re better. We beat them before and we can do it again. Shake off the weird vibes, okay? We can do this.” We have to if we want to make it to the playoffs, he thought instinctively before reaching over to tap the strip of wooden floor that the mats didn’t quite cover. Nope. No playoff thoughts. Just the game.

Eight minutes and a dozen fist-bumps later, they arrived at the locker room in a jumble of bodies. Sirius paused at the end of the hall and heard more than one quiet ‘awww’; Remus was waiting outside, as promised, with Jules fast asleep in his arms. He winked when he saw them and held a finger to his lips, stepping out of the way so they could sneak past.

Moving over a dozen fully-grown hockey players through a small space was not the most stealthy of activities, especially when all of them lingered to get a look at the sleeping child—it was no surprise that Jules woke up partway through and blinked drowsily at them. “Hmm?”

“It’s okay, buddy, you can sleep,” Remus murmured, hitching him a little higher up. “We’re heading home soon.”

“But I wanna watch,” Jules said, pouting slightly. Kasey made a soft noise and put his hand over his heart.

“You can watch the game tomorrow,” James said in a gentle voice. It wasn’t baby talk, persay, but Sirius had definitely heard him use that same soothing tone when Harry started to fuss. Jules snuggled his face into Remus’ neck again with a hum.

Sirius showered quickly and grabbed his bag, barely checking to see if his stuff was all there before ducking out of the locker room with a final mock-salute to the guys. “How long has he been asleep?” he asked as he picked up Remus’ duffel.

“He was out cold on the PT table.” Remus laughed under his breath. “Moody said he was a firecracker for about an hour and a half, but he came back from the bathroom and found him all curled up.”

“That’s so fucking cute. Did you get a picture?”

“Already sent it to my folks.” Remus carefully set Jules in the backseat of the car and buckled him in while Sirius closed the trunk as quietly as he could. Once they were in their respective seats, Remus leaned over the console and gave him a proper kiss, nice and slow. It sent a buzz all the way down to Sirius’ toes.

The lights were off at the house when they arrived; Jules was fully awake by then and Sirius watched his face fall at the same time his own heart clenched. “Regulus left.”

“Yeah, I think so. It’s okay, we’ll see him tomorrow.” Sirius added the last sentence partly for himself—he tried to keep in mind that Regulus was an adult and had moved out ages ago, but they had settled into their routine so quickly. He didn’t want the house to feel empty again.

“Hey.” Remus’ hand was light on his elbow and he blinked, looking over at his smile. “You alright?”

“Yeah, all good. Let’s get some lunch.” He offered a smile that he knew was weak, but Remus linked their hands all the same and kissed his cheek before getting both their bags out of the back.

Jules was playing hopscotch with the checkerboard of ice patches on the sidewalk; it had snowed while they were at practice, after all. There was a faint bark from inside and Jules gasped happily, racing toward the front door with reckless abandon and pressing his face against the wood. “Hi, Hattie-girl!”

Sirius unlocked the door, bending slightly to absorb her impact as she tumbled into them both and covered Jules’ face in kisses, wiggling to pieces with sheer joy. She sprinted for her toy box and grabbed a knotted rope, trotting back to Jules for him to grab the other end and tug.

“Do we have leftovers from last night?’ Remus called from the doorway when Sirius headed into the kitchen.

“I don’t think so, but we have turkey. How does a sandwich sound?”

“F—uh, really great.” Remus grimaced as he walked in and dropped his wallet on the counter. “I have got to be better about my language. Mom’s still mad at me for teaching Jules to say ‘fuck’, and that was years ago.”

“You had no qualms about teaching Harry bad words.”

“And you had no qualms about being on a desert island without me,” Remus said coolly. “Yet here we are.”

“Touché.” Sirius turned around to construct the sandwiches and felt someone lightly slap his ass. He laughed, raising an eyebrow. “Hello.”

“Hey,” Remus grinned, stealing a slice of cheese from his small pile and hopping up to sit on the counter.

“I don’t know why you do that.”

“Slap your ass or steal food? I do both because I love you.”

“I meant sitting on the counter. You know, where we eat.”

“I like to feel extra tall,” Remus said, reaching for another slice of cheese until Sirius gently smacked his hand away.

“Shortie.”

“Fuck off.”

“That’s a bad word,” Jules said from the doorway with a smile. He looked quite disheveled from playing with the dog.

Remus sighed. “It is, indeed. Don’t repeat it.”

“I could.”

“But you won’t.”

“I could.”

“I’ll tell mom.”

“She’d blame you for teaching me.”

“I’ll tell dad.”

“He’d think it was hilarious, and then he’d tell mom and she’d chew you out.”

Remus rolled his eyes and scooted over to make room for Jules to hop up next to him. Sirius threw his hands in the air. “Both of you! What the hell? Who taught you to do that?”

They shared a glance and shrugged. Sirius was starting to understand why people thought it was creepy how similar he and Regulus looked. “It’s a side effect of being the wiry kids on the block when everyone else is taller,” Remus said, snorting as Jules flexed his skinny arms.

Sirius handed them each a sandwich and, with a heavy sigh, boosted himself up to join them. The marble was cold, but it was…kind of fun to swing his legs and get a few extra inches of height. “I think he likes it,” Jules stage-whispered to Remus.

“It’s not horrible,” Sirius conceded, taking a bite of his food.

“Come to the Dark Side, we have the best places to sit.”

Jules widened his eyes and wiggled his fingers at Sirius until they were all laughing too hard to actually eat, then fell into silence as hunger took precedence after not having anything substantial since breakfast. “Are you good with reading or watching TV for a bit while we take a nap?” Remus asked between sips of water. Jules nodded, still making his way through his sandwich.

“What’re we doing after?”

Sirius paused at the same time Remus stopped halfway through a drink of water. They made eye contact, and he knew they were thinking the exact same thing: oh, fuck, we actually have to do things with a child around. “Uh, we’re…going to the park,” Remus said.

Jules made a happy noise around his sandwich and swung his legs. “Cool!”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full.”

“Okay, mom.”

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

The park was a winter wonderland, to say the least. Four inches of snow coated the grassy field and weighed down the branches of the trees lining the playfield, where about a dozen kids built snowmen with their parents. Hattie’s breath fogged the window as they parked and her wagging tail lightly smacked Jules’ forehead every few seconds.

Jules was out of the car the second Sirius turned the engine off, grabbing Hattie’s leash and leaping into the nearest snowbank with a whoop. Remus burst out laughing and followed him with a final glance over his shoulder to Sirius.

They were making halfhearted snow angels when he finally wandered over to the snowbank. They looked so peaceful, so content and happy.

Remus gasped when the first snowball hit him dead center in his chest. Jules laughed even harder until the next one landed in the neck of his coat and poured a veritable waterfall of snow down his front. They both stared up at Sirius in shock and betrayal; he grinned and tucked his chilly hands into his pockets.

“Go for the legs, Jules,” Remus advised as he scrambled up, keeping one hand on his beanie so it didn’t fall off.

Sirius barely made it three steps before Jules grabbed him around the shin and nearly tripped him. He did his best not to drag the kid face-first through the snow, but Jules didn’t seem to mind as he hooked an arm around his other ankle and Remus collided with his shoulder, sending all three of them to the ground in a heap. “Ugh.”

“Gotcha,” Jules said, clambering onto his chest with a breathless smile. Hattie, who had come over to see what all the fuss was about, began licking his half-frozen ear.

Remus sprinkled a handful of snow onto his face, slowly obscuring his view until everything was icy and white. “Vengeance is sweet, huh, buddy?”

“Totally.”

Sirius wiped the snow away and blinked up at two pairs of amber eyes. “I surrender?”

“I should hope so,” Remus laughed as he stood up and brushed himself off, offering a hand to help him to his feet. He kissed his nose in consolation as Jules took Hattie’s leash and ran off toward the playfield, where he would no doubt make seven new best friends within the hour.

“Cute kid,” a middle-aged woman with a kind smile said as she stopped next to them.

“Isn’t he?” Sirius smiled as Hattie rolled onto her back for belly rubs from three different kids.

“How old?”

“Ten.”

Her eyebrows rose and she looked at Remus. “You must have been young when you had him.”

“What? Oh, no, he’s my little brother!” he said quickly.

“Oh! I’m so sorry, you just look so similar,” she laughed, clearly embarrassed.

“No worries, it happens all the time. Which one is yours?”

She pointed to a giggling little girl on the swings, whose dark curls were braided back into a poofy bun. “Lena turned twelve yesterday.”

“Aw, happy birthday to her!” Sirius wrapped his arm around Remus’ waist and put his hand in his back pocket, pulling him close for warmth. They both waved to Jules when he looked over and beamed at them.

The temperature dropped rapidly as four thirty came and the sun began to set; soon, the fat flakes of snow grew smaller and icier as they flurried around the park. Lena and her mother left about half an hour before Remus started bouncing on his toes in an effort to keep warm. Sirius considered himself a decent fiancé, so he figured it would be best to not let Remus freeze solid.

Jules was damp and shivering with melted snow when they got back to the house and Hattie immediately laid down in front of the heater vent as he ran upstairs for a hot bath; Remus and Sirius peeled their soaked outer layers off and hung them in the bathroom to dry.

“If he gets hypothermia, mom’s gonna kill me,” Remus muttered as he shook Jules’ scarf out over the bathtub, though Sirius could see the genuine concern in his eyes.

“He’ll be fine,” he assured him with a gentle hip check. “We were only there for a couple hours and we left pretty quick after it got really cold.”

“He was shivering in the car.”

“Re.” Sirius set his coat down and took Remus’ face between his hands. “Jules will be just fine.”

“We would be really good parents.”

He blinked. “What?”

“Not now, obviously, but I think we’d be good parents.” Sudden nervousness shadowed his face. “Sorry, that was way out of the blue. Do you—do you not want that?”

“No, I do! I really, really do but…we’ve never talked about it before. Like, in depth.” I wouldn’t be a good dad. I barely know what a good parent looks like, aside from yours and the Potters.

Remus relaxed. “Oh. Well, I don’t think it would be a great idea to adopt kids while we’re still working full time playing hockey, but in the future…” He shrugged, the edge of his mouth ticking up in a smile. “I think about it sometimes.”

“Me, too.” There was a splash upstairs and they both laughed. “Well, I guess we’re about to have an indoor swimming pool.”

“I’ll get the towels.”

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

Sirius was almost done with the dinner dishes when he realized he hadn’t heard much noise from Jules’ room in quite a while, and yet Remus had yet to come back downstairs. He paused, listening to the muffled voices—no, not voices. Just one.

He rinsed the last plate and washed his hands, making a face at the weird soap texture and the ensuing dryness of his knuckles. There were few chores he genuinely disliked, but dishes were one of them.

The door to the guest bedroom was still open when he went upstairs, and a soft light shone out. He stopped in the doorway, a greeting dying in his throat.

“—‘hold it up!’ said Gandalf. ‘And look closely!’” Remus lowered his voice into a grumble as he read Gandalf’s lines; Jules was entranced, though he struggled to keep his eyes open for more than three seconds at a time. “As Frodo did so, he now saw fine lines, finer than the finest pen-strokes, running along the ring, outside and inside: lines of fire that seemed to form the letters of a flowing script.”

He glanced over his shoulder and smiled at Sirius, flushing faint pink. In the pause, Jules sighed softly. “Why’d you stop?”

“We’ll pick it up again tomorrow night,” Remus whispered, brushing his fringe out of his eyes. “Sleep well, buddy.”

“Sweet dreams,” Sirius added.

Jules mumbled and snuggled deeper under the blankets while Remus set the book on the nightstand and turned the bedside lamp off.

“That was the cutest thing I’ve ever seen,” Sirius said as soon as he had closed the door behind them and they walked down the hall to their bedroom. “Was that The Hobbit?”

“Fellowship of the Ring. It’s one of my favorites, and he picked it up this afternoon while we were napping.” Remus pulled his shirt off and sifted through their sheets for his pajama pants. “Did you do the dishes?”

“Yeah.”

“Thanks, baby. That was really sweet of you.”

“You were busy being adorable.”

“Shush,” Remus scoffed, though the blush returned to his cheeks as he curled up under the covers and made grabby hands toward Sirius. “C’mere.”

The bed was cold when he laid down, but Remus was warm, and soon they were tangled together as the moon shone through their window. Sirius drifted off to slow breaths and dreams of the future, where maybe—just maybe—their kid wouldn’t have to leave after four more days. 

[fuckyouquiznak]

Dream's past

(pretty long but this is Tumblr, am I right?)

Puffy is the captain of a pirate ship and has two children, Cornelius and Tobias (yes Dream with horns is my kink + I am not over the name Cornelius Dream used during one of Karl’s tale).

Cornelius is the elder one, around six years older than Toby, and he loves the sea and the pirate life. He is a sunny kid, always smiling and telling jokes. Everybody in the crew loves him.

He and his mother are really close. They share the same kindness and curiosity, which makes them always ready go on adventures. Cornelius also loves his little brother, Toby. They haven't a dad, so he acts very protective and defensive around him. They are an happy family.

Until one day everything changes.

***

The ship docks at a strange place. A creepy island maybe, dark and mysterious.

Cornelius is told to stay on the ship because it might be dangerous, but he is too curious to stay still. He is grown up after all, he can handle an adventure. Moreover he is sure the island is hiding a secret. A treasure? A temple? He needs to know.

When nobody is watching he sneaks out of the ship and goes exploring on his own. But then he'll eventually find something there, something wicked and scary. Maybe it is just a cage... something Cornelius is not supposed to open. But again how could he know? And there are voices... they tell him to free them... (dreamons or maybe even DreamXD?)

And you know what they say... "curiosity killed the cat". Excepts Cornelius doesn't die. As soon as he opens the cage he hears a loud and shrill scream and then everything goes black. He wakes up a little after, but nothing has changed. Or at least it seems so.

He grabs his things and quickly comes back to the ship, pretending nothing happened.

***

However after a couple of days things get worse. Now the voices keep visiting him, especially during night. And he doesn't feel alright.

His mother thinks it might be just fatigue or scurvy. But Cornelius doesn't tell her about the voices and the cage. He stays silent even when he sees a white stain growing on his hand.

It can't be that bad, can it?

***

After a week or two Cornelius is not getting better: his head spins, his heart hurts and the voices keep being louder and louder in his mind, till he passes out.

When he wakes up the ship is burning. He has a lighter in his right hand. Fire starts spreading everywhere and the crew panic, trying to stop it with water. But it doesn't work. It's too late.

Cornelius stares at this hands horrified. He doesn't remember anything. Why is he in the middle of the fire? What happened? He cannot breath and closes his eyes. "Let it be just a dream" he prays "He can't be me". His voice cracks, noticing the white stain has grown all over his arm. (imagine it like Ranboo’s left side... these two are connected)

Puffy quickly reaches him and helps him get out of the cabin. They are both burned and covered in ash. Toby cries and squirms in his mother's hands. "It'll be ok" she says culling the baby too calmly to be in a middle of a fire. "Cornelius, you two will take the lifeboat". Cornelius hesitates. "What about you?" Puffy smiles back at him, her cheeks buried in tears: "A captain never leaves her own ship, duckling.. I've got responsibilities here".

"What about us? Mom you don't have to this" he prays, his voice broken. He doesn't want to leave his mother...

But she doesn't listen.

"Take your brother away from here. Row till you find a coast, then ask for help, ok? I'll find you both eventually. I swear" Her smile is weak and tired. They both know it's a lie. They will never meet again.

Puffy gives Cornelius a compass. "Will be together again" she promises. "Do it for Toby".

Cornelius grabs his little brother and finally leaves. He doesn't have the bravery to hold his mother one last time.

(Puffy will actually survive, but she'll forget everything)

The rest is like a memory.

He manages to reach a little beach a couple of days after the accident. When they touch the ground Cornelius collapses. (Tubbo, Puffy and Dream would have scars and marks after the ship break)

***

The following months are horrifying.

It's cold and desolate where they landed. Nobody is willing to help, mainly because they're scared of Cornelius' white mark.

He can't blame them anyway. There's something wrong and scary inside him. They had found a village at some point, but Cornelius had one of his episode and burned down the place.

Toby cries all the time. He is hungry and, most of all, he misses mom.

The voices are not helping.

Cornelius can't keep him anymore. It's already difficult being alone out there. He can't... he can't let his brother live in misery like this. And what if has an episode close to him?

When they reach a wooden house in the middle of the snow (SBI house of course), Cornelius is sure it's time.

He leaves Toby out of the house, with a letter that says: "Save Toby". He has seen a woman doing that with a blonde hair baby a couple of months before (Tommy’s mother y’all).

The owners seem fine. Cornelius had watched them laughing and eating all together next to the fireplace a couple of times. He is sure they could give Toby the love and the warmth he can't provide him. He'll be safe there.

He gives the compass to Toby, just in case he'll need it one day to find him. It's hard, but it's the only choice. They can't be together.

As soon as his brother walks away, Toby starts crying louder. Cornelius does the same. For a moment he even thinks about turning around and take him back. He doesn't want to leave him: he is the only family he has left. But he is doing the right thing, he tells himself. He needs to be strong. For Toby's sake.

The first one to notice the screams is Wilbur, who jumps out of the door worried and scared. He looks at the baby on the top of the stairs and then looks directly at the tree Cornelius is hidden behind.

Philza exits a few moments later. He grabs the baby softly and he looks up to the sky where is crawls are flying. "There's someone" Wilbur whispers, pointing at the tree. Philza stops him and gives him the card. "Whoever left this baby here has a reason, Will".

Cornelius keeps crying. He wishes he could be there too. But the thing that is growing inside him... he is not sure he can handle it.

Techno is out in the forest eventually. He sees Cornelius. "Have some food, nerd", he says, before leaving him with a potato.

***

Cornelius stays close to that house anyway. At least he can keep an eye on Toby from there. He has found a nice spot, next to a cage. It's not that much, but he can't complain.

Toby is growing fast, even if his horns haven't shown up yet. Cornelius likes to watch him play outside with the other blonde kid, Tommy. They seem to get along well. He is as happy and carefree as a child his age should be.

Cornelius instead is sicker than ever. The white stain is growing on his skin day by day. His left arm, part of the chest and even his eye, now red, are surrounded by that. He doesn't know what to do. The voices keep him awake almost every night. They whisper something about "Dream".

Sometimes he wishes he could think about his mother, but the voices are louder than his thoughts. He can't remember her, nor his past life.

The stain is slowly erasing his memory. He is afraid one day he'll even forget Toby.

***

He meets Sapnap when he most needs a friend.

He hasn't talked with someone for ages (except for Techno who sometimes leave him food), so he is not sure he can remember how to do it, but with Sapnap is easy and comfortable.

He saves him from a spider.

Sapnap is scared and lost in the forest. Cornelius happens to be right next to him when the monster comes out. He grabs his sword and kills it.

"Woah, dude you saved me!" Sapnap says, jumping around. "What's your name?" Cornelius hesitates. It's been so long since someone called with his name. He can't really remember it. Was it something with a C? Maybe. Why can't he remember?

"I think it's Dream" he lies, feeling his skin burning. The other one however doesn't seem to notice it. "That's nice, mine is Sapnap! Do you live here? All alone?"

Dream nods, still unsure he should trust or not this new guy. He stays in the shadow. Sapnap smiles. "Dope! I wish I could have an house just for myself" then the smiles runs away from his face "I actually came here to do that... I got into a fight with my dad. Do you have parents?"

"I don't"

Sapnap laughs a bit. "Me neither actually.. Bad is my guardian to be honest. But he is a great guy, really. It's just... I needed space, you know?" Dream is sure he hasn't understood a word of what this kid has said. Bad? Guardian? Space?

"Not really" he answers, lighting a fire. Sapnap immediately steps back, and Dream realises he has finally seen his face. Now he'll go away too, he reckons. I'll be alone forever.

However Sapnap's smile grows bigger then ever. "Whoa that's sick" he screams "I mean in a cool way, dude. Loving your style".

Dream blushes. "I... don't really like it"

Sapnap raises his eyebrows, sighing. "Maybe my dad could fix it"

***

Bad has never been so worried in his entire life - which is a looooong life.

Sapnap wasn't in his bed this morning. He really thought he lost him for good after their last fight, but he luckily came back safe and sound.

He even made a friend.

Bad was so angry, but the happiness of holding his child again was bigger then every other feeling.

"Does it grow?" he asks, touching Dream's face. The kid nods uncomfortably. "Your left eye.. was it green before?" He nods again. "Do you have memory loss?" Dream hesitates. Bad writes something down.

"Well, Dream, I can't erase the stain. What I can do is preventing it from growing bigger. Your memory is damaged, so I can't fix it, but form now on you should remember things more clearly"

"What does that mean?"

"It means I can't give you back your memories, but you can make new ones"

Dream stares at his feet. He is sure there was someone important in his life before worth to remember.

"It'll hurt a bit"

***

"You can stay here if you want" Bad says.

The "operation" went pretty well. Bad and Sapnap offered him to stay with them as long as he wants. Dream is glad. He likes it here. It feels like... family. The voices are gone. Is he really free?

Sapnap enters the room with a big smile. "Dream, I made you something! I know you have to wear bandages everyday, because the mark is still there – Dream touches is face - so my dad and I came up with this little idea" Sapnap hands him a mask.

"It's easier to take off. I drew the smile"

Dream feels his eyes burning. No one has ever done something like that for him. A gift! "I like it. Thank you Sapnap"

“Don’t worry! That’s what friends do”

[danganronpa-agere-writing]

Hi there!! I love your blog and I was wondering if you could do a little!reader x cg! Mondo or leon (whatever you prefer hehe) hope your day is amazing :)

Hi anon...! I’m really happy you like my blog! I haven’t written for Leon yet, so I did him— I hope that’s okay! Thank you for sending in the request and I truly hope you like it! Have a lovely day :D

-Mod Mikan

Caregiver Leon headcanons!

•Leon probably found out by you telling him directly— You two were sitting in a room together, and you asked if you could tell him something

•He nodded, and so, you tried explaining age regression to him

•He definitely was a little confused at first, and probably needed to do a little more side research on his own

•But once he had a full understanding of it, he only gave you a grin

•“That’s fine with me, dude, doesn’t bother me.”

•Those words meant more than he could ever know

•After that— he started looking after you when you were regressed

•And after a couple weeks, he asked if you wanted him to be your caregiver

•He figured— why not? He already looked after you for a good part of the time you were regressed— he’d be more than happy to do it whenever you needed him!

•And so, after that, Leon Kuwata was your caregiver!

•He’s a pretty chill one— if you’re doing something you aren’t supposed to, he’ll just lightly usher you away and try to find something else for you to do

•And he’ll always go along with whatever you say! He’s like a parent going along with the scheme of a kid

•You could tell him blue was red and he would nod patiently and ask, “That makes sense. How come you think that?”

•He’ll also sing you to sleep!!

•Don’t tell his friends, but he’s more than happy to murmur a lullaby to you before you go to bed, or sing a silly song to you

•It cheers the both of you up!

•Leon is actually a decent cook— he’s no chef, but he can make you things without absolutely burning the house down

•But you both prefer sitting down with your favorite snack and watching a movie

•He makes sure you’re getting enough nutrients!! But why should he care if you eat a little bit of sugar? Everyone needs that to function!

•He steals your animal crackers sometimes

•...Look, they just taste really sweet and good and—

•Leon would be happy to cuddle you, if you ever wanted!

•As long as you told him it was okay, he would pull you close and you two would just lay there together

•It’s warm, and feels safe for the both of you

•If you were ever in a bad mood— like furious, or just sad, he’d speak in a soft voice towards you

•“Hey,” He’d murmur, “I understand you’re not feeling the best. Do you want to come over here and talk to me about it?”

•He’d listen, and validate your feelings if you did want to talk to him

•But if not, he’s alright with holding you close and letting the negative feelings slowly ebb away

•Regression isn’t always easy and peaceful— and he’s more than okay with that

•He’s here for you!

•Leon also likes doing things adjusted to the seasons!! Like, for Autumn, jumping in piles of leaves, and for Winter, play in the snow, Spring, pick flowers, and for Summer, go swimming

•It’s fun for the both of you, so, who can complain?

•But, really, Leon is a really laid back caregiver!

•He’s kind towards you, and it seems like his patience never runs out— he’s always going to be here for you

•Because he absolutely adores you, and he’d hate to see you sad

[1337wtfomgbbq]

Okay, I have to talk about this.

You know those obscure characters. The ones where we basically have a name and one character trait and everything else is us making it all up.

*Looking at you Terence Higgs *

I love how everybody is going at the character from a different angle.

I've seen him be as old as Flint and Wood, a bit older, a bit younger. Heck, I have seen his parents force the dark mark on him, or him being paired with Harry and having the animagus of a snow owl.

I just wanna share my thoughts if that's okay...

First off, he hates being called Terry. Everybody will be able to call him Terry once and then something so bad will happen to that person that'll make them forever stop. Only exceptions are his younger sister, his grandmother and Adrian *big surprise I know *

He has two sisters. An older one that graduated four years before him and a younger sister that's barely four years old and worships the ground that he's walking on. So no surprise that he allows her to call him Terry.

His family isn't pureblood but halfblood. His mother is raising them on her own and is a bit of a Evelyn Harper about it. A bit of a black widdow. She gets a wealthy married dude to do the do, then has his bastard and collects his money in exchange for her silence.

Not to say she doesn't love her bastard kids, she loves them to bits but she also has high expectations and she doesn't consider there to be big money to be made in quidditch.

I headcanon Terence to have had his last year in 92/93, during chamber of secrets.

Like, Wood was fucking surprised that Slytherin had a new seeker, which was Malfoy. And you can't tell me that he didn't knew when EVERY SINGLE PLAYER FROM ANOTHER HOUSE WOULD BE GRADUATING AND LEAVING THE TEAM. OLIVER 'OBSESSIVE AS FUCK' WOOD!

Which would mean that Terence started Hogwarts in *quick calculations * 1986, and we could safely assume that he would be part of the *more calculations * year 75/76.

And therefore he's one year older than Flint and Wood, at least. And yeah, I am going off book canon where Flint didn't have to do his final year again. JKR did joke about him having to redo the exams, but they also correct later editions of philosophers stone to say that Flint was a fifth year, so...🤷‍♀️

Talking age gap considering Hucey, because we all know that we're here for the Hucey, that would be between three and four years. Which would be a deal breaker for some so I can see why some people make them closer in age, but I don't particularly care.

Flint knows that Adrian has a crush on Terence and he actually talked to Terence to deal with it. Not because of the age gap, Flint couldn't care less about that, he just has a strict rule that there will be no drama on the team. Yeah he still allowed Malfoy on the team. Hypocrisy thy name is Marcus Flint.

Speaking of Malfoy, I headcanon that Terence actually already knew that he wouldn't be able to play during his final year. Because his mother wanted him to focus on his academics to get good OWL's to get a good job with the ministry.

Flint had already been at odds between taking Malfoy and his brooms or keeping Terence, so Terence telling him he wouldn't be able to play meant he'd be able to kill two birds with one stone. He still offered Terence to be kept on the team as backup and get a new nimbus 2001 on top of it. And honestly, who's Terence to say no to that.

Continuing on, I really like to think Terence got into professional quidditch, regardless of what his mom wanted. Kinda like a Niki Lauda getting into racing situation. He cuts his ties and pursued his dreams, and was bloody good at it.

And because they're my favorite team and I already put two of my OC's in there I'm gonna have him play for the Bellycastle Bats as well.

Really I just want Terence to be able to still talk shit with Flint, because I really like to think that Terence was the one that talked the most shit with Flint.

Like, in the big slytherin quidditch team dynamic Terence was like the oldest brother that long since gave up on keeping his younger brothers at bay and is just watching the carnage unfold.

That's also why he was one of like two players that didn't cheat, he didn't view it as necessary. And Adrian, as the little duckling that he was, did what Terence did and was therefore also not a cheat.

[a-southern-reader]

Chapter 2. Bouncer Jaune AU

“Oh please tell me!”

“No.” Said Jaune smiling and shaking his head in the campus cafeteria.

“Pretty please, I’ll let you beat me in Smash Bros.” Ruby stated like it was the best deal in the world.

“Then it’s not a true victory. Why do you even want to know?

“Well when your friend tells you they got a job you typically tend to ask where at.”

Jaune stopped his bite for his peanut butter sandwich halfway. “Well I can’t tell you because it’s a secret.” He said with a smirk.

“A regular secret or top secret?”

“Top secret.” As he said it with a smile.

“Dang it!” Ruby pouted, until Jaune gave her half of his sandwich. Which was promptly devoured in less than five seconds. “Still though working late hours is going to tire you some. You need to get good sleep if you want to keep your grades.”

Jaune turned and looked at her. “Really? This coming from the girl who stays up all night playing video games when her roommate isn’t there.”

“Hey I skipped a grade and because of that I get extra time to relax to make up for all that stress from the extra work.”

After Ruby and Jaune finished their lunch they decided to use the extra time to walk around on the campus grounds. “Why are you taking a job anyway, it’s not like you need the money?” Ruby questioned with her arms folded behind her head.

“Well I got a bunch a free time after my classes. You spend yours running for the cross country team. While I’m just doing nothing after I finish studying. Plus Sun works there so I’ll have a friend to hang out with.”

“Ah ha!” She shouted and jumped to look at him. “So Sun works there.” She accused to him. Jaune looks at the girl proud with her detective skills.

“Yes Sun works there, you got me.” He said with smile on his face.

She looks down at her watch, “Okay I got to go, I have practice in about half an hour. Good luck tonight!” She yelled already running towards the track.

It’s 2:50 and Jaune is walking to “Huntresses.” He stops in-front of a store to check himself out in the reflection of the glass. He makes sure his hair looks nice and he tucks his small black shirt in his pants. He wants to look decent not only for his boss, but to also show he’s taking his job seriously when facing people inside. Jaune finishes looking at himself in the glass and walks into the club.

“Ayyyyyye Jaune is here! Let’s get ready to party!” Yelled Sun in his DJ booth blasting music and showing off his dance moves.

“Hey Sun, why don’t you go dance on stage instead of the girls?” Yatsu asked while standing by the bar.

“Because Goodwitch knows that I would drive all the girls out of business!” Sun exclaimed while laughing.

Yatsu laughed at his joke as well and turned to look at Jaune as he walked up. “Hey I’m Yatsu, you must be the new guy.” He extended his hand out to shake. When Jaune reaches out to shake it he doesn’t even see his hand anymore because it got shallowed by his. Yatsu looks at Jaune and smiles, “Did Shade tell you to wear a shirt that was small to show off some muscles?”

“Yeah, I guess I’m just trying to get as much advice as possible. You got any to give?” Jaune asked.

“Yeah, try not to get a boner. It’s extremely awkward when you ask someone to get out with that pointing at them.” Yatsu jokes and gives a light punch on his shoulder. “Just stay close to me and I’ll show what all you’re suppose to do.”

It’s 4:30 and guys start coming into the club. “Shade is the guy checking who gets in. Our job is to look around and stop a problem before it happens. Especially if a guy starts getting too handsy with one of the girls.” Yatsu explained to Jaune.

“Alright gentlemen it’s time for your hot stepmom dreams to finally come true. Let’s welcome Momma Manlte!” Sun said on his microphone over the whoops and cheers.

Jaune watched as the dancer walked out from behind the curtains. He started to believe maybe Yatsu’s advice wasn’t entirely a joke. She had a red top and bottom that really show off her mature body. Her boobs looked like they wanted to burst out of her top.

“She makes a killer casserole.” Jaune snaps out of it and looks and Yatsu. “I’m serious, she had some leftover casserole she made and gave it to me.” He explained.

Jaune tried to not get distracted by the show and just looked around watching out for trouble. The woman was fine, all the guys who were close to her were just slipping dollars inside of her tong. He looked at the bar, nobody causing any trouble over there.

“Jaune relax some it’s early. Nobody is going to cause a scene the second they get in here. Just walk around some and stretch your legs.”

He takes his advice and starts to wonder around, but is still keeping an eye on everyone. Every now and then he does look at the woman dancing on stage. Shes rolling her hips around, getting on her hands and knees so guys can look down her cleavage. Near the end she stands up and one of hers arms wraps around her chest. Her other one goes to the back of her bra and unclasps it. She grabs an end and slings it over her shoulder without exposing her chest, only teasing the men with the possibility of it. She walks away swaying her hips, but just before she disappears behind the curtains she stops and looks in Jaune’s direction. She flashes him and all the men groan wondering who got to be the lucky man who saw her rack when she walked away.

“She’s likes you that’s for sure.” Jaune turns around and sees it’s the bartender. “The names Neptune, and you are a lucky son of a bitch. Momma Mantle doesn’t just let anyone see her assets like that.”

“She doesn’t just do that for all the new guys?”

“If that was the case people would be applying for jobs twenty four seven!” He joked.

As time went by Jaune was more relaxed and was just leaning against the wall and doing a little search every now and then. He assumed maybe that casserole dancer told all the girls back stage that there was a new guy that she liked. Because every once in a while a girl would be dancing and send a wink in Jaune’s direction. One thing he likes about his job for sure is Sun’s creative introduction for all the girls.

“Hide your wallet and heart because this girl will steal them both. Here comes Princess Bandit!” As a tomboyish girl with a tattoo walks out with a “I can kick your ass attitude.”

“She maybe small, but remember dynamite comes in small packages. Plus her hair reminds us of that sweet Neapolitan ice cream. Let’s give it up for Chocolate Strawberry!” That girl was short, but her bust and bottom did more than accommodate for that.

Before Jaune knew it the last dancer was coming up. “Alright everyone it’s getting close to closing time, but one girl came in last minute to provide our final show. You all know her, you all love her. It’s the Ice Queen!”

Jaune looked at the stage as she came out. The name Ice Queen really nailed her appearance. Her white hair was a obvious reason why it was picked, but it only scratched the surface of it. Her outfit didn’t match the color of her hair, instead it was a light blue. Her skin was pale, but not in that sickly way. It was like pure snow in winter and her outfit’s color really contrasted with it making it stand out with her pale skin. She walked with an air of elegance around her that made you pay attention. They way she danced on stage and swinging around the pole was like a ballerina. Heck that’s what Jaune felt like he was watching. Not watching a sexy girl exposing herself to get some money, but a beautiful ballerina putting on a show that memorizes the audience.

“Hey man you there?” Yatsu asked Jaune while  nudging him. “We got to make sure that everyone leaves man. Don’t worry the girls will still be here when you come back.”

He didn’t want to leave, he continued to watch Ice Queen as she returned to back stage. He would throw some money out if it meant he could still watch her dance.

Once the club closed Sun and Jaune got out and started walking back to campus. “So what you think man? Easy job, rocking music, and you get to watch all those women dancing for free!”

“Yeah it sure was something, so a couple of them go to our university right?”

“Well yeah, a couple of those girls are around our age so it would make sense. But don’t think I didn’t notice it man.” Sun smirking at him as he said it.

“Notice what?”

“Dude! That Mantle Lady, she full on flashed you man. Do you realize how much money people throw at her to get a glimpse of them, and on your first day she just lets you see them!”

“Maybe if you show her your dance moves she’ll show you her goodies.” Jaune said laughing with Sun.

That’s the second part! I kept on walking up during the night until I said screw it and just started to write something. It started small until it just snowballed into this.

For those who may not know “Princess Bandit” is Vernal. Because Vernal deserves more love dang it!

[herstarburststories]

Merry... Birthday?

Pairing: Dean Winchester x reader

Summary: You love christmas, but Dean doesn’t. Yet, he might make an exception for your birthday this year.

A/N: This one goes for @negans-lucille-tblr​ ‘s secret fic exchange. My secret Santa was @katymacsupernatural​. Hey, honey! I hope you enjoy this and happy birthday! You deserve double presents, so here’s mine. All mistakes are mine!

Divider by @talesmaniac89 !

You loved Christmas.

It was probably a nostalgic longing for your long gone urban life. Just in the same way you’d still catch yourself looking through the news for election results or feel your stomach twist if you didn’t eat homemade food at least twice a week. You were dead to the government and certainly spent more on the road than in a home. Besides, you had met up with God enough times to know him. All the encounters and screaming and unapologetic abandonment should make you want to throw any baby Jesus against a wall or even climb on a Christmas tree just to shout about all the hoaxes so perfectly molded in patterns through our brains like braids.

Yet, something about you loved christmas. 

The pretty lights always shining, it didn’t matter where you go. For once, all the city-- everything would be entirely made of light. Their incandescent glow always companishing each person, either it was in an once treacherous alley or only to make the kids' grin bigger as they watched them among the busy streets with wide eyed gazes. The confusion in the kitchen that often ended up with huffs bursting into chuckles between the smell of meals that were too much and would make a room for leftovers for the rest of the week. How everything seemed to be made only of happiness, and nothing could ever cut through those water; all the knives were suddenly swords for kids to play and no white gun. In Christmas, a house became a kingdom for every heart. Everything was good and felt through the skin to the bone, like a single glimpse, a hidden day of what would be paradise.

That was how you were raised, at least. The Winchesters didn’t share the same mindset, no. While you grew up with decorating the tree, they were hiding bodies in the dim light. Leftovers were all through their whole year, and Christmas was described as good or not with one single criteria: snow streets. They had to take one? Annoying date. They didn’t and there was eggnog? Bearable Jesus’s birthday.

Yet, you attempted to make the bunker the more festive possible: buying a bunch of christmas lights, cookies’ ingredients and even a small nativity scene. Your attempts to enjoy the date’s niciities ended up with Sam breaking his arm after crashing on the ground because you insisted on him putting the lights in a place higher than his age, not to mention the burned cookies that looked more like tiny monsters than gingerbread men.

Your parents used to make this look so much easier.

Although the youngest Winchester understood a little more about the concept of holidays, a believer in the good until the very end, his brother didn’t share the idea. You couldn’t say you were surprised. Dean just had two barely normal christmas in his life: one when he was dying and one with Lisa and Ben. Both situations made it to his heart only to shatter from the inside.

‘’Baby Jesus?’’ Dean snorted, shaking his head at the sight of you adjusting the weird little dolls in the nativity. He placed another ruined cook in his mouth, speaking with his mouth full next: ‘’We have the son of Lucifer, guess that counts.’’

‘’Don’t say that once Jack gets home.’’ You rolled your eyes, turning to face the oldest Winchester with your hands on your hips. How could he eat that? You couldn’t even make it a bite and Sam only had half of those. ‘’And stop eating those. They are burned.’’

‘’I’ve had worse.’’ He remarked, adding another cookie to his mouth. You grimaced, wondering for a brief moment how your boyfriend could be simultaneously the guy who saved the world and a man with the taste of a five years old.

‘’Yeah. But I’m the one who has to hear you whining about your bellyache later.’’

‘’I don’t whine--’’ You arched your eyebrows at his statement, making Dean huff in agreement. ‘’That was once and because of Sam’s weird ass vegan bacon.’’

‘’You acted like you were dying.’’

‘’My tongue was!’’

‘’So get this.’’ Sam’s voice interrupted your childish argument, catching the attention of both hunters like a shiny object did to a cat. ‘’Apparently we got an earlier christmas gift.’’

‘’What is it?’’ You asked, approaching the table.

‘’Three teenagers disappeared in the forest, all personal objects left behind.’’ Sam explained as Dean scratched out his neck to glance at his brother’s computer screen. Nothing like a case in Colorado. ‘’The authorities think it’s a serial killer. But one of the girls, Kayla Wodson, said she saw a weird, skinny giant take her friends.’’

‘’Ho ho ho and three bodies.’’ Dean clapped his hands together with a wry curve of lips. ‘’Alright. Let’s hit the road-- Wait, wait, wait. Where do you think you are going?’’

You were standing beside Dean while Sam raised to his feet, ready to pack his bags. Dean, nonetheless, was quicker than his brother, soon putting himself in front of Sammy; hands protectively standing in front of the youngest’s chest to keep him from moving any further.

He shook his head with a scoff. ‘’Dude, come on.’’

‘’Not happening, Sammy. You got a broken arm.’’ You mumbled a sorry along Dean’s big brother speech, to which Sam replied with a comprehensive smile. ‘’Y/N and I take care of it.’’

‘’He’s right. Must be the first time in his life, but he is.’’ Dean turned his head, furrowing his eyebrows at you ‘’Don’t worry. It’s just a wendigo anyway. ‘’

‘’Okay. Just…’’

‘’Don’t forget the fireblazer. As if your brother would miss an opportunity to use it.’’ You scrunched up your noise, causing a chortle out of Sam while Dean commented something about grabbing the specific instrument and walked away. ‘’Maybe you could call Eileen. Ask her to help you to back some christmas cookies.’’

Sammy shook his head at your wiggling brows. ‘’That doesn’t sound as sexy for me as it does for you.’’

Dean Winchester was good with numbers.

Not the urban numerical sense of the deal, of course. He almost didn’t make it in sixth grade with useless geometry and all that, and he still used his fingers to count when he had to deal with an equation. No, his good and quick way with numbers was easier, intrinsic to his head.

How many years since mom died? Seventeen. How many people did he have to save? All of them. How many years had he left? Less than he once owned.

Hunter math was simpler, and was all he really needed since he was four years old, running from the fire with his baby brother in his arms-- which brought him to the second section of his particular geometry: birthdays and death anniversaries. Dean never, ever forgot any special date. Those were his own holidays, the only worth celebrating and remembering. His wishes, grief, and cherishment were reserved for the people he loved, not some celestial assholes who saw his life like a book.

Therefore, his mind went on a golden rush for your day as soon as the Wendigo hunt took more than you both expected. You wouldn't be able to make it home before your birthday, which would be ending shortly, a matter of two or three hours. His inner engineers were useful tonight, in his vision, useful enough to make those sappy movies jealous. While you were washing some guts and leaves away, Dean went to the nearest convenience store. His long arms nesting a bunch of stuff he never dared to touch in years. The cashier with drowsy eyes and escarlet Santa hat seemed bored with his shopping, probably because she saw an uncountable amount of people buying the same things over and over. He couldn’t blame her for the suburban exhaustion. If anything, it was a small comfort for his war orbs to see and be a part of a scene so mundane.

He hustled back to the dive motel room, singing in relief to himself once he stepped in and heard you singing Christmas Tree Farm while the water rushed in. He grimaced at himself for recognizing that Taylor Swift song. How couldn’t he? That woman was 80% of all you heard everyday. Man, he was whipped.

Tilting his head back in reality, he started organizing in clumsy manners of putting everything in place for you. His bruised hands touching so carefully the fragile ornaments to make the motel room with grubby walls and weird black stan on the floor that only seemed to grow a little more like you.

You, the woman who put up with him, who laughed at his stupid jokes, and who watched Scooby Doo, all snuggled up to him every friday. You, the woman who switched from AC/DC to Taylor Swift and then Eric Clapton. You, the one who understood his job and helped him to wash off some of the blood on his hand and never got scared of how red the water could get. You, the girl who rolled her eyes at his first attempt of flirting and now stole his french fries and kissed his lips as if he was worth being delicate with. You, his breathing, his true holiday, his only act of faith besides Sammy.

Dean pressed his teeth against his bottom lip, looking up and down his little manual work. Part of him said it was ridiculous, he surely would make a lot of fun of Sam if he did that to a chick. Yet, mostly he was proud. He wanted you to like it. It wasn’t even near to what you deserved, but it was a piece of it. It was what the Winchester could give you, and that would be hopefully, enough.

While Dean was caught in the crossroad of judging and admiring his surprise, you left the shower with a towel wrapped around your head and lips mumbling Cocaine. Your feet glued to the ground once you witnessed what was in front of you: the room was decorated with christmas lights, a tiny plastic tree on the table, right beside a pie with candle on the top and two cup of what smelled like hot cocoa.

‘’Dean…’’ Your tender tone brought him back from his traineck thoughts as he turned around to glance at you. You chortled in astonishment as he raised his eyes and said surprise! ‘’What’s this?’’

‘’Well, it’s your birthday.’’ He shrugged, scooting closer to you with a smirk. Dean smoothly wrapped his arms around your waist, yours instantly resting around his neck. ‘’In my defense, they just had christmas stuff. Blame your parents for having you close to Jesus’ special day.’’

‘’Christmas stuff include pie and not cake?’’ Your brows knitted together, a heartwarming smile on your lips as you watched his expression marked by multicolored little lights. He smelled like something was a blaze, and you knew that was for standing too close to the candle and not for burning a body this time. Small changes.

He scoffed humorously. ‘’You like pie better anyway.’’ He nodded at the carnival-like situation around you two. Dean Winchester wasn’t the kind of man who got insecure, but you could catch a perk of brand nervous hesitation as his green eyes shot you an anxious glance. ‘’Did you like it?’’

‘’I loved it.’’ You pulled cheeks dimpled with joy that was kissed by Dean’s own smiling lips. The kiss was so gentle, it was his own palpable light hearted emotion. You being happy in his arms. It had been so long since he felt he could be enough, he could make someone happy. But you were right there. As you pulled away, another short kiss was given between playful words: ‘’That’s what I call a christmas miracle.’’

‘’Shush.’’ He leaned in and pecked your lips. As Dean pulled back, he couldn’t help but watch around with the pride of Hubris. His glance went back to you, a lopsided grin on his face. God, you loved that smile. You loved that man. ‘’So I added some whiskey to the hot cocoa. We could drink some, eat the pie, and see if those lights make a good improvise rope. What do you tell me?’’

All you could do was kiss him again.

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[jmeelee]

The Boy Next Door written for @averysterekfall​

“Go burn that anger off doing something productive!” His father’s words squeaked past the front door before it slammed. Stiles flew down his porch steps, out onto the walkway, acorns cracking under his stomping sneakers. He halted in front of the garage, stabbed every number into the keypad.

“Why won’t you just let me get my license?!” He’d yelled moments ago. What more did his father want?  Stiles had passed his permit test with flying colors, logged over 100 hours of practice driving, rocked driver’s ed, and taken three private, professional driving lessons.  He was more than ready to get his provisional license, and his father's hesitation was downright insulting at this point.  The garage door rolled up, exposing baby-blue paint inch by inch.

“Hey. What are you doing?” Stiles wheeled around, arms windmilling and heart racing.

The boy next door, Derek Hale, plopped a garbage bin at the curb in front of his house.  Derek and Stiles lived next door to each other for years, since Stiles and his family moved to Beacon Hills when Stiles was five. Only a year apart in age, they’d been close friends once upon a time.  Derek sat with him on the school bus and taught him how to play touch football.  An extra place setting was always available at the Hale family dinner table for when Stiles showed up like an only-child moth drawn to Derek’s large-family flame. But when Derek left Stiles in junior high to move up to Beacon Hills High School, he’d left their friendship behind too. He’d grown muscles and facial hair and a social life that had no room for Stiles anymore.  They still hung out occasionally at neighborhood barbecues, but it wasn’t the same. 

“Jesus, dude. Someone needs to put a bell on you.”

Derek looked down at the bulky garbage can—the kind Stiles knew damn well sounded like rumbling thunder on it’s trip to the curb—and back to Stiles, raising one dark bushy eyebrow.  “What’s wrong?”

“Oh, nothing,” Stiles spit, breathing hard. “Don’t worry about it.”  What would Derek care, anyway?  He and his older sister, Laura, shared custody of a sleek black Camaro.  No one forbade him from taking his road test. And middle-child Derek Hale had no idea how it felt to be the sole beneficiary of an overprotective parent’s ridiculous restrictions.

“Doesn’t seem like nothing,” Derek pressed.  “You stomped out here like you were going to kick someone’s ass.”

Anger and grief settled in Stiles’ lungs like cement. “I’m just out here, admiring my car—” Stiles waved a hand at the 1980 CJ5 Jeep parked in his garage—“which I’ll never be able to drive because my father is a controlling prick.”

Derek cut across his yard until he stood in Stiles’ driveway. “He’s worried about you.  In his line of work, he’s probably seen some terrible accidents, seen the cost of teenagers driving before they were ready.” Stiles rolled his eyes.  “You’re all he has, Stiles. Soon you’ll go away to college, and he won’t see you every day, and a car means he’ll see you less now when he’s probably trying to soak up as much time together as he can. Try not to be too tough on him.”

It wasn’t like Stiles didn’t know those things.  He did. But his mother had left Stiles the Jeep when she died.  She wanted him to have it.  She taught him about the clutch and the gear shift when he was seven years old.  He just wanted to roll down the windows and hear her laugh on the wind again. 

Stiles didn’t have the words to say all that to Derek, so he said, “Ew.  I don’t want to hear your logic, Hale.” He reached into a dark corner of the garage, swatted away some cobwebs and grabbed two rakes with worn wooden handles, and a couple of pairs of work gloves.  “Put up or shut up. I’ve got rage to burn.”

Energy spilled from him like oil from a smashed tanker. Leaves flung into the air.  Within minutes Stiles stood in the center of a thigh-deep pile; immense, immediate progress. It felt good.  He raked on and on, across the yard and back, until a multicolored mountain stood in front of him, the lawn a green swath behind.

Derek came and stood before Mt. Stiles, surveying it thoughtfully.  Then he turned and, without catching himself, fell backward into the leaf pile.  He sprawled comfortably, sinking to the ground, brown, red, orange, and yellow leaves sliding over his handsome face.  Stiles stepped into the pile, sat down cross-legged.  They were in a nest, hidden from the world.  

He looked at Derek and said, “Every day I don’t have my license feels like another day I don’t have her.” He shrugged. “It might be stupid to feel that way, but it’s true.”

Derek’s eyes softened at the memory of Claudia.  “Not stupid at all.” Derek put both hands around Stiles’ waist and pulled him down flat into the leaves with him.

The kiss was long.  And serious.

Stiles stared awestruck at Derek’s stubbled cheek, which pressed against his, and with amazement, brought his lips together to kiss Derek again. To start their second kiss, and choose when to end it.  Derek’s heart raced under Stiles’ palm, and his own picked up speed, keeping pace.

Very slowly, Stiles’ hand crept around Derek’s face, finding the back of his neck where his dark hair lay thick over his pulse.  Derek’s hand, rough-surfaced, gently touched his face.  He brushed the hair from Stiles’ forehead, traced his profile with the pad of his thumb.

“Derek!” Shouted his little sister, Cora, from the porch steps.  “Derek, where are you? Isaac Lahey’s on the house phone.  He says you aren’t answering his texts.” She waited a few moments, and when she didn’t get a response, she reentered the house and slammed the door.

They fell apart, each lying back on the crinkling leaves, staring up a blue, early October sky. “I’d better go take that,” Derek said.

“Sure.  Yeah.  Gotcha.” Stiles agreed.  “That guy’s pretty needy.” Derek huffed a laugh and rolled his eyes. He stood first, brushing leaves off an ass that perfectly filled out his jeans.  He reached down, grabbed Stiles’ hand, and hoisted him to his feet.  Stiles could feel bits of leaf in his hair and down the back of his flannel shirt. 

Derek kept his fingers intertwined with Stiles’, reached out with his free hand, and picked an oak leaf from Stiles’ shoulder. “Can I ask you something, Stiles?”

“Uh.  Sure?” The words came out breathless.

“When you do get your license—and you will—could I be the first person you drive with in your Jeep?”

Stiles ducked his head, overcome, and stared at his feet for a few seconds. He looked back up at Derek from under his lashes.  “Yeah.  I think that can be arranged.”

Derek smiled.  “Can’t wait.” He squeezed Stiles’ hand before letting go.

Stiles’ heart and lungs were working hard enough to power the entire county of Beacon Hills.  Once Derek disappeared inside his house, Stiles picked up his rake again.  Their two bodies had left imprints in the leaf pile, like angels in the snow.  He raked the pile back together, until the prints were hidden, the evidence gone.  Their little secret, at least for now.

If Stiles’ dad found out, he’d probably never let Stiles leave the house, let alone take a road test.

The boy next door, Stiles marveled, touching a finger to his kiss-swollen bottom lip.  Who would have thought he’d be such a cliche? 

Stiles stored the rakes back in the garage and briefly rested his forehead against the Jeep’s spare tire.  “Soon,” he whispered.  The word, the Jeep, and Derek, all held the promise of happiness. “Soon.”

He closed the garage door and went back inside. 

__________

Thank you to @novemberhush​ for reading this over.  This ficlet is based on the first kiss scene from The Face on the Milk Carton