#don’t have any pics that show off the scars that go like under my arm and up on to my back

[skypiea]

wanted to post some top surgery scar pics just cause. These r from March (a week after surgery) / June / September / November (today!)

[thefanficmonster]

Love For The Faceless

Corpse Husband x Youtuber!Reader(Female)

Warnings: Swearing

Genre: Fluff 

Summary: Y/N is a YouTube gamer who has recently gained a much larger following thanks to the streams she does with her friends. Naturally, considering her faceless and bodiless nature, people are starting to get curious about her. When she finally follows her friend Corpse’s example, a lot more than her hands is revealed.

Requested by anon, you know who you are 😉 Thank you so much for placing a request and hope this fic fulfills the expectations you have for it.

“Hey!“ I greet the lobby as I finally hop into the Discord call after quickly saying ‘hi‘ to my audience.

I’ve been a YouTuber for four years now and I’ve only recently started streaming, encouraged to do so by my best friend Rae. She’s the one who got me in multiplayer games such as Among Us and Phasmophobia which led me to meet her amazing gaming squad that consists of some of the most famous names on the platform. They are all wonderful people and I will forever be in Rae’s debt for introducing me to them. However, becoming friends with Felix, Sean and the rest of the team brought not only a more fulfilled life, but also a small boost in following. Who am I kidding, it wasn’t small. It was overwhelming, terrifying even.

My YouTube channel had a little over a million subscribers at the start of quarantine and now....now it’s closer to three million. Speaking of three million, I’m about to reach it any day now and it’s really hard to believe. I’m a gaming youtuber and I’ve never considered changing my genre despite expecting to not get any attention whatsoever, with all the big names on the platform. I was convinced not even as many as a hundred people would stumble across my videos and now here we are.

My OG subscribers are very supportive of my sudden growth and are defending me when my newer fans ask for a face reveal or whatnot. While we’re on that topic I might have to mention that not even my YouTube friends, and that includes Rae have seen my face. I’ve been faceless and bodiless for the entirety of my time on social media. Some claim I do it to grab more attention or for dramatic effect, but the reason is beyond that. I’m not shallow. Actually, shallow people are the reason I don’t show my face. I’ve never been the prettiest, but my middle school bully thought that I wasn’t lacking self confidence enough. As a result, I ended up with a not so handsome scar on my right cheek that starts from the corner of my mouth and nearly misses my eye. Yeah, it’s a long and pretty noticeable scar that has thankfully become less and less obvious as the years have progressed. Still, it’s not something I’d like to show to my viewers.

Eight ‘hi’s greet me back, each making my smile grow wider. “Sorry I’m late guys. Technical difficulties.” 

“Don’t worry.“ Rae’s voice dominates over the rest, “Corpse still isn’t here so we’re waiting for him.“

I mute myself on the Discord call and take a look at my comments. I’m most flattered by the comments about my voice. Seeing as how they don’t have much to compliment about me other than my content, they make the nicest comments about my voice, personality and humor. Those comments are the ones who warm my heart most. Even when people in my day to day life compliment my appearance I can’t find it in me to believe they are being genuine. I’d like to believe these amazing people are being one hundred percent honest when they tell me they like me for who I am and not for what I might look like.

“Sorry I’m late guys.“ A deep voice causes me to even physically jolt, switching my focus from the comments to the Among Us lobby where my eyes land on the newly materialized black avatar.

“Hi Corpse.“ Rae greets him.

“Hello mister who broke Twitter!“ Sean laughs, provoking the laughter of the rest of the players.

“Yeah, congratulations man. That’s a big deal.“ Felix chimes in.

“Thanks guys, but I think you’re forgetting we’re talking about a picture of my hand.“ Corpse chuckles timidly. I have noticed how shy he gets when someone gives him a compliment - like a snail slowly withdrawing in its shell. I find it adorable.

“That’s what makes it even better!“ I unmute my mic, sending my own congratulations.

“While we’re on that topic...“ Rae begins, waiting for the rest of us to shut our traps, suggesting she has something important to say. “Y/N, do you ever plan on doing a reveal like that? Not a face reveal. Just a body part reveal.“

I have no problem talking about the subject with friends but I get nervous when I’m supposed to discuss it with my fans. Seeing as how everyone, including myself, is streaming right now, I get a bit of a stutter in my speech. “Haven’t thought about it yet. But I guess a body part reveal is harmless.” I cringe immediately after letting the words leave my mouth, “That sounds so weird.”

Rae knows that I’m not too fond of my face, but I haven’t told her about my scar yet. I let almost all people I’ve met online think I’m using my lack of appearance for effect. For the mystery of it all. Mysteries attract people which equals attention. Attention equals views and the domino effect continues.

“Just a suggestion. No pressure.“ Rae adds quickly, knowing full well I get anxious when the subject is brought up in front of cameras. “Let’s get this game started, shall we.”

                                                          * * *

The idea dwells in my mind, sitting on the back burner even after I disconnect from the Discord call. I’m sitting in my gaming chair, which was a gift for my two million milestone, and weighing out the pros and cons of the action Rae suggested I take.

“It’s a picture of your fucking hand, dummy. How bad can it turn out?“ I say out loud, shaking my head at my indecisiveness. “You’ll be fine.”

In a blur, two pictures are already posted on my Instagram. The first one captioned ‘Took a leaf from my friend’s book. Did I do it right @ corpsehusband?’ and the second ‘Thanks, Rae. These are on you.’

Rae’s POV

As I’m watching a movie in my living room, I get a notification from Instagram, informing me that Y/N has posted for the first time in a while.

I scoff, “More like the first time in forever.”

The first thing that comes to my mind is the possibility of her reaching that three million milestone that’s been long time coming. I bring the glass of water that’s sitting on my coffee table to my lips, taking a sip as I tap the notification. The picture I see makes me hurry to put the glass back down so I don’t drop it. Y/N’s hand. Her fingers are covered with several thin rings each. And here I thought Corpse had too many rings, this girl has at least two on every finger! 

Then my eyes land on the second picture she has posted only minutes after the first and my heart drops. I struggle to get the water that’s been sitting in my moth down my esophagus while my mind is struggling with the task to comprehend the picture I’m looking at. 

Another hand is resting on top of Y/N’s. A hand also covered in rings but fewer and larger. The nails are painted black. 

I think I know who it belongs to.

Before I can even finish the thought, I’m dialing Y/N. She picks up after the second ring, sound cheery as ever as she greets me. “Hey Rae!”

“Don’t you ‘Hey Rae’ me!” I practically scream. I hate being kept in the dark about anything ever so this is just driving me mad. On top of all, she’s my best friend, for fuck’s sake. “Is that Corpse in the photo with you?!”

“Ugh....“ the cheeriness to her voice is all but gone now.

I go on with my rant, not giving her the time to reply. Not that she would reply. I bet she doesn’t know what to say. “So he knows where you live?! Or was the picture taken at his place?! He knows what you look like?! You have seen him! He has seen you in real life but me, your best friend, haven’t!!! You are breaking Covid 19 protection laws to take pictures?! Are you fucking serious, Y/N?!”

There’s a long moment of silence which frustrates me even more but I literally have run out of things to yell and the power to be angry. I mean, I still am, I just can’t express it.

“Rae, sweetheart, please calm down. You’re scary when you’re mad.“ This girl has some fucking nerve! She’s on the verge of laughing!

“Listen here you...“ 

“Rae, please stop scaring my girlfriend.“ That oh so distinguishable, oh so familiar voice interrupts me.

I am flabbergasted, for a lack of a better term.

“Now that we’ve got you quiet, I can explain.“ Y/N pics up the conversation, “Corpse and I have been dating for six, almost seven months now. We started dating around Easter after talking for quite some time. We moved in together at the end of September. All thanks to you, Rae. You’re the best.” She pauses to breathe in real quick, “There, all caught up?“

I’m in no less shock than I was before she explained. Actually, I think I might be even more confused now. It all just feels like a fever dream. “Yes...no. I don’t fucking know! I need details, Y/N!”

“Details later.“ Corpse makes his presence known once again, “We’re watching Family Guy right now. Talk to you later.“

“Love you, Rae!“ Y/N calls out before the line goes dead.

My arm goes limp, dropping my phone on the couch next to me. 

“Motherfuckers” I mumble under my breath.

Y/N’s POV

It’s been a week since Rae has stopped talking to both Corpse and me. I know she just needs some time to cool off. In the meantime, the rest of our friends were informed and, as oppose to Rae, were nothing but supportive and overjoyed. I bet Rae feels the same way though. Sean, Dave and the rest of the gang have confirmed that she’s incredibly happy for us and says she noticed a spark between me and him since day one, but she can’t help but be mad at us, and especially me, for not telling her sooner.

“Any regrets?“ I remember Corpse asking me when we hung up on her after dropping the bomb.

“Not being able to see her face when she saw the picture.“ I beam at him, feeling as content as ever.

He laughs, agreeing with me before leaning down to kiss me.

@susceptible-but-siriusexual  @simonsbluee  @save-the-sky  @hacker-ghost  @itsminniekat  @bi-andready-tocry  @imtiredaffff  @jazzkaurtheglorious  @hereforbeebo  @fandomgirl17  @chrysanthykios

[luimagines]

Hi! I have a request, but first i wanna say your writing is absolutely amazing! The length + amount of time you put into these prompts is insanely good. Now! Onto the request, how would the boys react to a reader from a more modern era? Maybe a more modernized hyrule or our current point in time?

Masterlist

Thank you so much for the compliment! I'm happy to see the response even if this blog is still relatively new.

I hope I do your prompt justice.

I probably could have done a headcanon list but I was hit with inspiration.

I also might have given Reader some backstory.

Scenario below the cut! It’s long, take caution.

It was a cool night, but you didn't mind. Your bed was warm, the WiFi was fast and even if it was three AM on a school night, you managed to keep yourself giggling with cat videos and blursed memes until the words and colors merged.

A night well spent.

But it led to questionable decisions.

Even if the shredded cheese in the fridge was beginning to seem a more and more enticing snack, your body was tempted to succumb to slumber.

Until a large purple light encompassed the entirety of your window.

Something was in your backyard.

Aliens. Your tired brain supplies and you sprint to the glass and push away the curtains. Is this it? Is this where I'm kidnapped and never seen or heard from again?

You pull out your phone and open up the camera.

"Pics or it didn't happen." You remind yourself and snap a few before showing your face.

What you see isn't what you're expecting. Instead of a flying saucer in the sky beaming down a laser or a weird pear shaped space craft on top of the grass, there's a single panel of glowing light, swirling with black accents that creeps in a circular motion.

"Cheese and crackers...." You gasp and begin to blatantly stare at it with no regard to whether something may be coming out of it.

You wait and nothing happens.

You wait some more and nothing happens.

You spend an hour watching this portal that has appeared out of nowhere, waiting for something to happen, willing for something to happen. But you get nothing.

The unknown stares right back at you, unblinking and unchanged.

Go through it. A voice tells you. What if there's something on the other side?

"I'm going to die." You gulp and take a deep breath.

Who else gets a chance like this? The voice talks again. This could be a grand step towards a more modern society. A whole new world could be on the other side, waiting, reaching out, calling to humanity!

You think you a see a shadow move behind the portal and out of sight but it’s gone before you can even process it.

"Should I call the police?" You step away from the window, ignoring the thoughts, the voice- you're too tired to know if it's your own any more. What's the plan? How does one go about something like this?

Where’s your sense of adventure? Pack a bag and go! What if it goes away?

That last thought seems to get through to your tired brain and for a reason beyond your understanding, it latches onto it.

Now you’re excited.

You run to the closet and take out your old backpack. It used to be for school but it was fancier since it was the only one you could get. The bag had a replaceable water bag with a plastic straw connected through the back of it and the straps have just worn down enough to where they’re actually comfortable. It doubled as a hiking backpack and came with its own insulated lunch box that clasped on the back of it.

It’ll finally serve its purpose.

You quickly roll up your favorite blanket and strap it in tightly beneath the lunch box. You’re quick to take out two extra outfits and pack them as well as change out of your pajamas.

Ok. What would you need? You don’t know where you’d be going so this has to a catch all kind of deal.

You pack away your swiss army knife first for good measure. A solar powered charger for your phone and an extra pair of socks follow suit even after you’ve picked out the extra clothes.

You take out the water bag and run to fill it all the way to max capacity as you think of any other necessities.

You’d need food. You have a small jar of peanut butter and granola bars that can fit in the lunch box. You can bring your extra water bottle and put in the side pockets of the backpack, and maybe bring some of those powered flavor packets your brother loves so much. You think he has lemonade and some green tea ones.

Those would be great. He won’t mind, hopefully.

You let the bag overfill momentarily before running back to shove it in your bag. with the lid screwed tight.

Next you run to the kitchen, grabbing the first things that you thought of already and begin to look around for more.

You grab an unopened pack of beef jerky, a bag of veggie sticks and a half eaten bag of dried mangos.

During your search you grab the water bottle and fill that too.

You return to your room with your bounty and begin to carefully put everything in the box. With some more deliberation, you run back to the kitchen and make yourself a quick sandwich, eat it, make another one and pack that as well.

You look out side the window and the portal is still there.

The sun is beginning to rise now so you’re trying to go as fast as you can, unless you want to neighbors to think something is going on.

Even if it is.

You’re about to leave but in a stroke of brilliance, you run to pack sunscreen and bug spray as well. You see a small first aid pack that was bought recently for when you would take your family vacation but you reason that it might one of the most important things you’d have if you got hurt.

Into the bag it goes.

You grab your hoodie before you leave the door, wrap it around your waist and pocket your phone, your headphones and your wallet.

You feel immediately under packed when you step outside and see the portal up close.

It’s weirdly triangle shaped, you think and step closer.

You reach your hand out and try to touch it. It feels as if you put your hand through a humidifier but it’s not wet. It’s misty and cold but not necessarily unpleasant.

An idea hits you right before you take your first step through.

You pull up one of the earlier photo’s you took and send it to your friend’s group chat. It showed up in my backyard. I decided to make a bad late night decision and I’m going through. If you never hear from me again, I want you all to fight over my electronics. Winner takes all. Godspeed.

And you step through.

You had first assumed that it would merely take you tot he other side but very quickly realize that you have to walk through it.

The first part still had a little light but with time, it got darker. So dark that you couldn’t even see your hand in front of your face.

You kept walking.

As fast as the light disappeared, it came back and you stepped into the light of an open field, right in front of one, two, three, four, nine males that had appeared to be traveling towards you or rather, towards the portal.

The portal disappears in the process.

“Oh so we didn’t have to go through it! We had to gain another member!” One of them yells. “Would have been nice to know before we packed everything up!”

“Ho boy, where am I?” You ask and tighten your grip on your backpack. Why didn’t I bring a weapon?

They all had long tunics and swords on their backs. Old fashioned leather boots and hand bracers were the norm in this group and you realized very quickly that your jeans and t-shirt had wildly missed the memo.

“Dang, I didn’t think I’d walk into a LARP group. Sorry about that.” You sheepishly smile. “I had no idea where the portal was going to take me. But if you would be so kind-”

“Wait, what’s LARP?” One of them speaks up. He was a dirty blond and somewhere in the middle of the group height wise. He wore a white cape like thing with blue designs on the back but you didn’t recognize the symbol.

“Live Action Role Play?” You tilt your head. “It’s why you’re all dressed like that? Right?”

“This is just our clothes.” What appears to be the youngest bounces up to you. “What are you wearing?”

“First I could grab in my closet.” You admit and look down on it. It’s one of your comfiest shirts and best looking pants. You’re a little proud of yourself for finding those in the dark.

“Weird.”

“We’re heroes. We’re all named Link.” Cape guy speaks up again. “Is it safe to assume that you’re in the same boat?”

“Heroes?” Your eyebrows furrow together. “I’m not a hero and my name’s not Link.”

You’re quick to tell them your name and you watch as the confusion covers their faces. “My brother’s name is Link though if that helps anything.”

“Oh we needed him!” The youngest groans and it instantly irks you.

“What would you need with a five year old?” You deadpan and cross your arms. 

The information stuns the group.

“The portal showed up in the middle of the night and I’m the one that went through it. I’m pretty sure I was the only awake to even see it. Are you telling me that it was for my little brother?” You’d be lying if you said that you weren’t a little pissed. “My baby brother was supposed to go through it? He was asleep! He’s five. What kind of logic is that?!”

“Well...” The biggest and oldest of them runs a hand over his face. You think he has some cool tattoos and sick scar going across his eye but he looks about as angry as you feel, so you don’t say anything. “It appears the gods truly do not care for the hero’s maturity, only his existence.”

“Ok...What’s with all this hero talk?” You bite back. “What did... Where am I?”

“Hyrule.” The second with cool face tattoos speaks up. He’s got a large fur pelt around his shoulders and you have to tighten your grip against your backpack again to keep from reaching out to touch it.

Even so you feel yourself deadpan even more. “Hyrule? Like the ancient empire? The one that collapsed more than two thousand years ago? That Hyrule?”

You’re inclined to not believe them and write all of them off as crazy... but you also walked through a portal. And your grandma did say that magic existed in the strangest forms.

They all share looks of concern and some begin to murmur quietly amongst themselves but you’re too far gone to even notice.

“Did I time travel?” The idea hits you like a bus and you feel your eyes widen as you stare beyond the group. You quickly take our your phone and unlock it.

No signal.

“Is that a type of Sheikah slate?” Someone asks you.

“I don’t know what that is.” You reply automatically. “Wait, hold on, what year is it?”

“Why don’t you tell us what year you’re from and we can start from there?” The darkest brunette of the group speaks up.

“202x PC” You say robotically, not really processing the world around you anymore.

“That’s...” The blond with a long blue scarf speaks up with a slight hiss. “...Beyond any of our timelines. You see, we all come from different worlds and eras of Hyrule’s history.”

“I don’t think you’re the farthest down anymore, Wild.”

“This would then make them my successor, right?”

“It would make their brother your successor.” Someone amends. “I think they just jumped in his place.”

“Leave my brother alone.” You snap back into the present, pocketing your [hone again. “Ok, you know what, screw it. I don’t know what you’d want my brother for but I’m here now. I’d gladly take his place if it means he gets to stay home!”

“Hey.” A boy with pink hair stalks up to you looking a little more serious than you’d like.

“Nice hair dude, way to defy the gender norms.” You smirk a little before genuinely grinning, hoping to quell the tension. “What product do you use? It looks like Artic Fox but not every place sells their brand.”

“...I have no idea what you’re talking about but what happened to Ganon in your world? How have you been handling it?” He snaps and places his hands on his hips.

“Ganon? Like my old principle? That’s a name I haven’t heard in forever.” You’re confused again. “Last I heard he joined the police force only to be reassigned out of state. I don’t know what’s happening with him. Kinda hope he gets fired though. He’s not a bad guy but he’s not someone you’d want in that kind of position of power, you know.”

“Police force?”

You blinked and look them all over. They look very medieval. “Oh... You don’t have that...”

You begin to think about your history lessons and what they might be familiar with if they’re telling the truth about being from Hyrule.

“Ya’ll got knights?”

Many, almost all of them nod, a few with face of despair already on them before you finish speaking.

“It’s kind of like that. Mixed with a towns guard position... kinda. They enforce laws... at least they’re supposed to but the whole system is flawed and racist and really needs to be dismantled for the abuse of power that they have-”

“Abuse? Of power?” You have their attention again.

“It’s stupid and it won’t really make any sense if I try to explain because I doubt you have anything similar but it’s basically a group of people given the right to treat the public in anyway they like for their own benefit because they have no one telling them that they can’t.” You groan and slowly begin to feel your lack of sleep catch up to you. 

You slowly reach to behind you and sit down on the dirt, looking at all of them. “Mr. Dragmire wasn’t like...Demise or anything but he was a huge jerk. No one liked him. He liked me though. I remember that. I was the envy of the whole school because I somehow got on his good side while everyone else wants to strangle him. I think he was transferred for some misdemeanor or something like that... like he might have been throwing hands with someone he wasn’t supposed to. I never heard all the details. I didn’t really care for it when it happened either. I’m pretty sure he lost that fight though. The dude looked like a blast of wind could have knocked him over let alone someone’s knuckle sandwich.”

“I would love to hear more about this.” The youngest sits next to you with a large grin on his face. His eyes are bright and his body language reminds you of your cousin Zelda. You instantly think they’d get along like a house on fire. “What are your monsters like?”

“Monsters?” You tilt your head. “Be a little more specific bud, it depends on where you’re from.”

“You have that many?!”

“It depends on if you believe they’re real or not.”

“Speaking of monsters, can you fight?” The shortest walks up to you. You like that his tunic is stitched up with multiple colors and designs. It gives it personality, you think. “Do you have a weapon you’re more comfortable with?”

The question throws you off your rhythm and you don’t fight your wince. “What would happen if I say that I do not, in fact, have any sort of weapon on me?”

“I wouldn’t believe you.” Pink guy speaks up again. “That pack is huge, there has to be something in there.”

“It’s food, water and extra clothes my guy.” You lean back against said backpack since it won’t let you lay down with it still on. “Not a lot of space for anything else. I’m pretty good at hand to hand combat though. Karate’s a good way to fight out stress.” 

“Your bag’s not magic?”

“Why the hell would it be magic? ...Are you trying to tell me magic actually exists?” You raise an eyebrow as your eyes begin to close against your will. “I know my grandma said it does but I thought she meant like fairies and shadow demons.. and bigfoot. Can’t forget him, he’s the real MVP... You know...Children’s bedtime stories and stuff like that, it’s not real. But like magic magic? Magic items and the like? Find me Tinkerbell and I’ll show you Neverland, that’s what I say.”

“Are you serious?”

“Second star to the right, straight on till morning.” You respond.

There’s a moment of silence as the group in front of you processes your words. It’s hard to tell their reaction since you’re not looking at them but you no longer have the energy to do anything else.

“Are you falling asleep right now?” It’s the one they called Wild.

“I...” You try to open your eyes. They don’t budge. “I haven’t slept in nearly 20 hours... I think. I might have past 24 hours a while ago actually. Portal showed up at like four in the morning... I had to get up at six and I didn’t sleep at all before then.”

More silence.

“Great another one.” Someone scoffs.

You snort.

“Why did we pack up camp again?”

“No one kill me.” You say right before you lose consciousness. “Please and thank you.”

“They’re doomed.”

“Have some faith Vet. They stepped in for their little brother. That has to mean something?”

“They’re in for a rude awakening, and that’s all I have to say about it.”

[pynkhues]

.... any succession fic recs? 👀

Yes!! I haven't read a lot for it yet, but some of the stuff I've read has been staggeringly good. I'm generally more into gen fic in this particular fandom, but have enjoyed some Stewy x Kendall, Gerri x Roman and Naomi x Tabitha too.

A few recs under the cut!

“I wanted to get out. From under all this. Take the money and run.”

Kendall tells Stewy even though he knows he’ll never get it, not like Naomi does. He’ll never understand the crush of it, the heart-stopping head-fucking fear of failing a tyrant. Kendall’s been ignoring the shape of it for a long time, putting pieces of it together in the back of his mind in total darkness like a blindfolded man. It doesn’t matter that one day his dad will die. It doesn’t matter about the money or the hostile takeover or the stolen files or any of it. There’s no running. Kendall’s Logan Roy lives inside his head.

Stewy laughs. Stewy laughs for a long time.

“There is no out, Ken, what the fuck are you talking about? You were born this and you’ll die this. You are what you are, and what you are is a fucking Roy.”

Kendall hates him, for a moment. Lightning-strike furious. What the fuck does he know about any of it, about his dad’s swinging dinner plate-sized hands, about getting 24% name recognition in reliable international polling, about puking every time you think about a car swerving off the road in the rain. About finding out that you can do something unthinkably, unimaginably terrible, and it doesn’t matter to anyone you know but you. There’s a scar on his arm that no one else who hasn’t already been told how it got there can ever know about, and he’s sick of it, and it’s not fair. He hates Stewy for a moment because Stewy’s right.

“I wanted to do the right thing, Stewy, for once in my fucking life.”

Stewy laughs again, more briefly, and the predator flash of his eyes in the neon of the motel sign is a torture all its own.

‘There is no right and wrong, Ken. How the fuck do you not know that yet? Not for people like you. Like us. There’s shit you get caught doing and there’s shit you don’t.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about. You really, really fucking don’t,” says Ken, and fuck, there it is. The road less travelled, that only he has ever driven on. The path he’s down where Stewy can’t follow. That place beyond Stewy Hosseini where he never thought he could go.

“You’re not telling me something, and when I find out what that is, and I will find out what it is, Kendall, don’t you think I won’t, so I am warning you that when I do find out I am going to be righteously fucking pissed,” says Stewy, and if Kendall thought those were a predator’s eyes before—

“Yeah, you will,” says Kendall, because he knows exactly how perceptive Stewy is. Exactly how weak he is. Exactly, precisely what both of them are.

And treat this night like it’ll happen again by postcardmystery. 8k words. Kendall x Stewy. Post s2. (CW: internalised homophobia, some homophobic language)

I tried to pick a shorter excerpt, but I literally couldn’t, this fic is so. good. The voices are pitch perfect, and it’s got this incredible build to it overall that goes back and forth between time and point of views and just rips your heart out. The premise itself is pretty simple – after the press conference at the end of 2.10, Kendall calls Stewy, and they drive through rural America while Kendall has a breakdown, and it’s just - - unspeakably good. I love it so so so much, I have no words.

r/roysucks Connor’s gf just posted on Instagram (instagram.com) submitted two months ago by webbedscrum_2279 23 comments share save hide report

[–] DM_ME_SAMESMAIL 40 points two months ago I too like to escape to my yacht in the Mediterranean when my family and I are on trial for covering up rape and murder. permalink embed save report reply

AITA for accusing my father of multiple crimes on his own news station? By amleth 3k words. Gen fic. Post s2.

And now for something completely different – epistolary fic which is just reddit news threads of the Roy family drama. I love an epistolary fic and this is just totally charming, and made me laugh a lot out loud.

“You’re quiet,” she observes. “That’s a first.”

“Yeah, well, the Turks beat it out of me. Gave you a run for their money.” He waggles his eyebrows. “So what is this? Whips and chains? Are we doing the whole boat-sex thing? I heard Shiv and Tom are looking for a third —“

Gerri finds what she’s looking for: a black leather binder. She drops it on the bed and begins paging through it, and Roman cranes his neck enough to recognize that it’s just full of documents, not like, dick pics. “I’ve given some thought to what you proposed a few weeks ago, and I agree that we should make things official in some way,” she says, and he blinks.

“Uh,” he says. “Which — what part of it?”

“Take a look.”

Gerri closes the folio and hands it over. It’s deceptively heavy, and the print on these pages is way too fucking fine, he thinks, paging through it. “Is this some kind of, like, Fifty Shades of Roy sex contract? Because it’s not that I’m not into it, but I think there’s a strong argument for going paperless —”

“Strictly speaking, this isn’t legally binding,” Gerri says. “Just something I threw together with regard to our business arrangement going forward. But with no respect to the family — the past few weeks have really illustrated that no one should take anyone at their word right now. Give me a little more than your word.”

Evacuation strategies for a yacht on fire by devourthemoon. 11k words. Gerri x Roman. Post s2. Explicit.

After the events of s2, Roman and Gerri fake being married as a professional alliance, only, y’know, maybe it’s not so fake. This fic is just so, so much fun, and messy in the best possible way. The author nails all the character voices, and the sex scenes are just the right amount of hot and ridiculous, and I just love it all a lot too.

Kendall estimates it will take an hour for the first articles to go up. Some rapid-fire blog without oversight—the New York Post, maybe, or wherever those Vaulter hippies have skulked off to—will slap a catchy headline on it and report his words verbatim. Give or take a gif of his face when he switches to script number two. New York Times, Washington Post, AP, those fuckers take longer. They like to bleed the story like Middle Ages plague doctors for its marrow, fact-check and add context and analysis and as many backlinks as their servers can handle. Still, a couple of hours, and his face will be plastered on every major news outlet. His voice will play over the nightly talk shows. He’ll trend on Twitter. A few more days, and he’ll be the star of analysis segments, podcasts, weekly briefings. Maybe, fuck it, maybe he’ll trend on Twitter again.

It’s been years since Kendall read Shakespeare. But that shit sticks with you, gets under your skin and emerges when you least expect it, like eczema or Keynesian economics. He knows how the media will spin this. Kendall Roy Attacks CEO Logan for Years of Corruption. Prodigal Son Disrupts Family Legacy to Restore Credibility. That’s how Hamlet ends, right? And Macbeth, Lear, Othello, Romeo and Juliet, even Titus fucking Andronicus. The spilled blood sinks into the ground, the seedlings sprout forth from the soil, and a new castle is built on the bones. Order out of chaos, or at least close enough an approximation that the tabloids will buy it.

Legacy for profit by owlinaminor Post-2.10. Kendall Roy. Kendall through Shakespeare analogies – just - - ooooof. It's a beautiful, lyrical character study that weaves through Roy family history and teases at a future none of them are even sure they want. It's gorgeous writing.

For the next few days Shiv would have to keep the pressure on Kira like an open wound because there were other women, victims that Nate’s people were going to find one by one as soon as that phone call disconnected. Mo was her father’s friend, good friend, for a long, long time. Nate and Gil, Sandy and Stewy, too many sharks in the water and the share price probably dipped to a new low but she would never check a stock ticker. Her husband’s nerves fraying at the edges on national television. She had promised a woman she’d never met before that she would kill roughly one third of the top male executives of her family’s company. Her company.

The last look Rhea gave her before she shut the car door was concern close to fear—no longer the same woman who heard their pitch in the safe room, who laughed with her at Argestes. Rhea had only looked into the abyss; she got cold feet and she didn’t even know what it’s like to grow up in it.

Her family’s company is hers, will be hers. Even from a whale fall, new life would spring.

Feed his flesh to wayward daughters by reogulus. 2k words. Shiv Roy. Set during 2.09.

This entire fic is set around Shiv bribing Kira not to testify, and god, it is so good. It’s bleak and rough, and really hones in on the complex ground Shiv walks as a character. It's another brilliant study of what it takes to be a Roy, and the way they make the awful choices in order to fulfill this legacy that they don't even know they want.

Kendall sets down his fork. “So. Tell me. Is it everything you wanted? Is it what you thought it would be?”

Roman stills. He never does that. He’s constantly a menace in motion, slouching and fidgeting, worse even than Kendall at his amphetamine peak. “What? The view from the tippy-tippy-top?”

“His regard.” Kendall wipes his mouth with the edge of the white cloth napkin. It comes away pink from the steak. “Dad. He’s all yours now.”

Roman still hasn’t moved. Finally, he lurches, like corroded machinery come uncertainly to life. “Yeah, man. It’s fucking tight as hell. I love every beautiful daddy and me moment I was a good enough little boy to earn.” He snorts. “Fuck you.” His face goes curiously slack then, like something Kendall’s own face would do. An intermission in the performance, an energy cut. Something genuine finding its way to the surface. “Why don’t you tell me. When you got everything you wanted, how the fuck did that make you feel?”

Nauseous, is the first word that springs to mind. Sick. Scared. I’ve never had everything I wanted, there’s that. I’ve never once had a single fucking thing I wanted. There’s that, too.

Interim leadership by arbitrarily 2k words. Roman + Kendall. Post s2.

I love Roman and Kendall scenes generally, but this one which features Kendall and Roman meeting for the first time a few months after the press conference in 2.10 is just a bit magic. The push pull dynamic that's just inherent to them mixed with the genuine affection and brotherly love is really special, and arbitrarily embraces both in equal measure. It's a great little fic.

There are lots more of course, and I'd also recommend checking out other works by these authors, but I hope this is a good place to start! :-)

[oh-for-fic-sake]

I Just Move Things

Whilst looking through luthors drives the league find a new metahuman who is to powerfull for her own good.

Masterlist

Warnings: swearing

A/n:So this is a new series of imagines with Justice league/ teen reader obviously no smut but fluff angst and everything in between i know that the pic is starlight but that’s there more for the eyes.

(not my gif/pic)

I Just Move Things

"Seriously this girl, shes incredible, Lex didn’t have much on her he only just got the footage a day or so before the whole supes vs bat thing but we are soo lucky she wasn't involved, if she uses her head she could probably wipe all of us out, we need to get here to join" Barry was giddy as he started gushing over the new mysterious metahuman who was a prime candidate for the justice league. Arthur sighed crossing his arms

"Oh really? I'm sorry but I don't see how that tiny thing could do much damage wheres her weapon?" He said unconvinced Bruce and Clark agreed somewhat looking at the photo victor had pulled up on the screen a girl who looked around sixteen sitting at a table outside a Starbucks reading a book, she looked like a typical teenager, no muscle definition to her small form, so obviously had no combat training she looked like a regular man could snap her in two, easy to over power. Victor sighed at them.

"Looks can be deceiving every thing you see in that photo is her weapon, the ground, the air, the glass in the window behind her even the chair she's sitting on she could use all of these to impale you if she wanted to ,its quite incredible watch her here look at this video." The clip was grainy showing the inside of a corner shop, she was standing by the counter blowing bubbles in her gum paying for a small bag of groceries when a man came in holding a gun screaming at the girl at the register who quickly turned around to the cash register fumbling trying to open the cash draw as he shouted pointing the gun at her making her scream and struggle even more. The teen in question moved only to be ordered to put both her hands on the counter, she did so but as soon as she did looked over her shoulder to the door blowing yet another bubble letting it pop she was very calm for a young girl who had a gun in her face she huffed took a deep breath you could see her eyes light up a little and the metal frame above the door caved in enough to hold it closed trapping them inside, neither of the others noticed to preoccupied quickly she slid a tin can into her hand and looked at the gun tilted her head to the side eyes flickering once again and the barrel caved in on itself looking like someone had pinched the end closing the hole completely making it useless, no bullets would be firing from the weapon the man when to scream confused but was struck in the temple by the can of beans dropping to the floor in a crumpled heap she kicked the gun away in case he got up. The cashier looked around crying in relief as she saw the thief had been knocked unconscious and with a quick look the metal frame quickly snapped back to its original state. She exchanged a few words with the girl who was now on the phone to the police nodding towards the security camera  the surprised she looked up you could see her curse as she looked into the lenses a grim expression eyes flashing and the video cut off, she had broke it trying to cover herself. Silence washed over the group as they came to terms with what they saw. Clark was the first to break it

"That was, different she helped tho that is a good thing she wants to do good. To protect people" Bruce spoke up next

"She didn't take chances, but that ability, what she can do its not something to take lightly, we don't know the extent of it can she do other things?" The question was directed at victor who had been scouring the cities surveillance for her.

"I've caught her a few times on cctv doing things, she practices at night around Gotham docks. And its amazing to watch, so far from what I can tell its molecular based, solids liquids and gases. I've seen her change the shape of containers, fix broken glass, she can't fly but seems she has just started to make invisible platforms to stand on and climb and when she fell she managed to make the ground sort of turn sand like to make her fall softer and she doesn't even seem to do it consciously it just sort of happens once she got up it settled like water becoming regular concrete again. Where ever she got the gift it hasn't been long, she is still trying to control them, small things are easier, like the gun and the door, but the first time she made the invisible stairs she got a nosebleed and passed out I lost her for a few weeks but when I found her again she did it again, must have practiced somewhere else as she only got a little nose bleed and didn't pass out just got dizzy" Diana sat there contemplating

"So basically this incredible power is wrapped up in a hormonal teenager  who doesn't know how to use it yet, she is still trying to figure out what she can and cant do? And no doubt soon will start testing her limits? Bruce we need to pull her in now we can't waste any time she could hurt herself or someone else" Barry nodded they all shared a look agreeing. Time to bring her in.

"Where is she?"

"She will be at the docks again tonight around nine o'clock, she has a pattern its like clock work, docks ,chemical factory and just recently started down under the main bridge towards Metropolis playing around with water". They nodded she seemed shy Clark showing up could scare her same with Diana, Barry wouldn't be a good idea he tended to fumble his words and Arthur was well Arthur. In the end it was decided Bruce would go do the talking, after all Gotham was his turf.

Well shit gonna be hard to explain this one.... you looked down sighing it was very typical tho well for you any way. You see you had a problem, or should you say gift, you could move things not just the whole abracadabra Matilda floating thing, you could move things on a molecular level..... like clay everything is clay. After practicing you now know that you can break down solids into teeny tiny grains like sand using it as sinking sand or putting it back together in a new shape and recently discovered you could pull all the teeny tiny molecules in the air together really tight it becomes an invisible force field type thingy like an instant piece of bullet proof glass, or like a platform to stand on . It was cool but difficult to control some things more then others, for instance solids where the molecules are pack tighter are easier to manipulate then water where they are all moving then air that was tricky they were fast and hard to control. And there was limitations you couldn't change anything living or growing, no plants, no animals and consequently no people. You cant heal people which you learned the hard way after cutting yourself for the sole purpose of sewing it back up nope didn't work and you wished you'd don't a shallower cut knowing it was going to leave a scar. Which sucks, but you can control the air in their lungs technically it wasn't apart of them. Loopholes, there is always a loophole. But you can fix things, like a crack phone screens burst pipes you just had to stretch things a bit or zip them up. Which brings us to this little mishap. How the fuck can you explain this, you had been trying to feel the air. You felt with your powers you liked to think of it as ripples you know like when you wave one hand under water you can feel the ripples hit the other? It was like that except you felt what the ripple hit. Kind of strange but that was the best you could come up with. So hear you was scratching your head looking at a half sunk boat, now you may be thinking boats sink all the time whats the problem?.... well normally boats sink in water not solid concrete, you had been trying to feel your ripples and pull the air below a small boat making it 'levitate' but lost your cool dropped the fucking thing panicked tried catching it and wham bam thank you ma'am boat is now half sticking out of the dock floor with a broken window. You looked up into the sky.

"Really? As if my life wasn't already a joke you gotta throw bad luck in the mix to?" You quickly closed your eyes willing the glass to reform feeling each the large pieces lift joining them selves back together slowly setting them back into the frame concentrating in 'zipping up' the seams at such a microscopic level no one would know any better. Once finished you opened your eyes, boat was still in the ground but the window was back in place. 'Yay go me' You smiled, you may not have achieved your goal of safely moving the boat but you did fix the window you broke. You sighed trying to pull the thing up again but stopped when you heard a large ominous crunching sound coming from the hull. You jumped growling pulling at you hair near your scalp.

"No no no no no this is not meant to happen just fucking move! Move up damn it!"

"Need some help?" You screamed jumping  turning around as the ground flicked up around your feet creating a small knee high spikes pointing between you and Batman?. You took a step back quickly stomping the small barrier away

"Err no no I err just out for a nice stroll haha." He hummed unconvinced looking at the boat sticking out of the ground you followed his gaze chuckling nervously scratching at your chin

".....that was like that when I got here....... I mean you see some weird shit in Gotham huh?" He looked back at you.

"I already know about your gift, you can't control it yet?" You gasped taking another step back

"Gift? What gift nope no sir-y no gifts round here."

"So I didn't just watch you drop a boat into concrete and fix the window on it?" You blinked slowly at him then heaved a heavy sigh stuffing your hand in your pockets.

"Y-you saw that? Shit I didn't mean to, I promise its just hard and i just want to stop doing things on accident....then other accidents happen a vicious cycle really" You said waving over the little accident. He nodded

"I believe you, but you were panicking, concentrate try making it sand again then harden from the bottom push up like layers like your filling in a hole go from the bottom up" you looked at him a little shocked but nodded looking at the boat feeling around beneath it with your 'ripples' making the concrete go lax hearing the hiss of it as it became loose grains before pushing up hardening thin layers from the bottom finally bringing it to the surface. You smiled happy at fixing your problem. He smirked seeing you giddy from your achievement.

"Wow thank you that helped a lot I would have been here all night before figuring that out." He nodded

"Your welcome, I'm glad I found you, we have been watching you for a while, we would like to talk to you"

"We?" You asked not really understanding

"The Justice league, you have a strong ability that we think would be useful and we wanted to see if we can help you control it we can give you training in combat weapons and hand to hand which ever you prefer." You looked at him jaw hanging open

"Your joking? You've gotta be, I just move things not really worthy of being up there with you guys,but I don't want to be used then thrown away but thanks for the help" you said turning to walk away he frowned

"We wont please you can trust us" he said reaching out quickly holding an arm dragging you back a little making you gasp and jump he then winced hissing as a thin spike quickly pierced the side of his hand that held you, you panicked.

"OH MY GOD! I'm sorry I didn't mean to! it just happens when I get scared or startled!" You quickly pushed the spike down grabbing his hand and twisting it with trembling hands hope he didn't beat the shit out of you, you'd basically just attacked him.

"Erm please stay still there are a few bits in there" you said before pulling at the little pieces of debris from the small puncture hole, when you react on instinct it doesn't end up as put together as when you actively control things hence little bits falling off and such.

"Your powers are strong I don't think your fully aware of what your capable of crushing a gun with a look is just the start, just give us a chance trust us"You let go of him hugging yourself taking a step back you felt bad you didn't mean you stood looking down waiting to see if he was angry, he seemed more sympathetic.

"Its not that I don't trust you, fuck how can I not I'm just....scared, you don't know the things I've done.....I could accidentally kill one of you then what? Be hunted down by you guys? I'm not indestructible I'm human and I haven't got control of it.... I don't even know what it is.....but its probably about time I found out I suppose I just simplify it so I don't you know....loose my nerve, bad things happen when that happens , its always frightened me... if-if I did come with you what do you guys get out of helping me? There’s always a price" he regarded you carefully he could see the fear the uncertainty in your voice it made you seem younger ,smaller lost he could tell you wanted to find somewhere to go, to find a home base and people who understood a bit like Barry in that sense he sighed smiling softly before speaking.

"Hopefully a team mate, one day someone will come and pick another fight and when they do we need to be ready, to have people we can call on to help, your strong a lot stronger then you realize this gift it-its probably made you one of the strongest metahumans on the planet,even superman was a little concerned of  encountering you that's why I'm here he chickened out." You giggled a little and he smiled relaxing, you were a good kid he could tell just scared and lost the league would be good for you give you direction.

"Really? I'm pretty sure I've got more reason to be wary of him" he smiled a little "The point is your strong and will only get stronger ,your still just learning about it we want help you, give you a safe place to learn how to control it, test your limits. Your a good kid I can see you want to help and we will give you the opportunities to do that." You nodded it did sound good, the chance to practice using this gift away from people, in a safe and controlled environment the only people around would be able to dodge and escape if things did go wrong you looked at your hands for a moment.

"...You'd really help me?"he nodded

"Not just you but we will also help protect those closest to you" you looked away

"Don’t have anyone." He stopped at that

"What? Your alone?" You shrugged nodding throwing your bag on your shoulder

"You mean family right? Don’t have one I told you bad things happen when I loose my control, I just have foster homes well had I left,better off on my own" you held his gaze you were testing him, letting him know exactly what you'd done with out saying the words guard up and waiting to see if he'd try to over power you or change his mind. He didn't know what to say to that, he could hear the others through the comms warning him to back off asking if he wanted back up, he ignored them you had killed them accidentally that much was clear. You had no one he couldn't imagine just what you had been through, but he also knew this was a test he had done it himself when he was younger, you were waiting to see if he would judge you or leave you here alone, the others wont understand that’s why they were panicking telling him to leave if he did  you'd never trust them again something none of them could risk, but it was also your way of trying to push them away. He shook his head coming closer slowing when your eyes began to glow and the floor rippled beneath his feet he raised his hands slowly the others were shouting down the line at him but you was getting defensive not readying for an attack.

"That’s why we want to help you, so nothing like that happens again I cant imagine what you've been through or what it was like but you don't have to be alone anymore or be scared" you believed him, something told you he understood pulling back from the concrete, he had plenty of time to attack you but didn't.

"And you wont be mad if I break something?" He shook his head releasing a breath he wasn't aware he was holding

"If you break something you can keep practicing until you fix it" you contemplated for a second.

"Okay then but just to see if I can fit in, don't let them make me jump.....I don't wanna shank them....you got off lightly it was aiming to go straight threw to your face... I sort of caught it a little" Bruce tensed but quickly controlled himself, the last thing you needed was to see he was slightly afraid of your gift it could feed your own fear.

"They already know, they've been watching in case they needed to help if things went bad its up to you" you gulped and nodded a little as he began walking away you hesitated looking the opposite way you could run, forget this whole meeting and leave, you sighed watching his back you had no doubt he was giving you the chance to leave you took a deep breath they could help and if it does become a con you would find a way to leave and disappear nodding you quickly jogged up behind him following him to the bat mobile he opened the back revealing two seats.

"This thing has extra seats?" He smirked down at you

"Well this one does some of the others don't." You tilted your head

"How many of them do you have?" He chuckled as you slid into the seat

"Quite a few buckle up and hold on" he said nodding the the strategically placed grab rails the shut the door a few seconds later you were moving. You shivered a little nervous you didn't think it was a bad thing to go and train somewhere more secure but one mistake and you could easily become an enemy and contrary to what they may believe you couldn't take any of them on you was still a human you still bled. You sighed leaning back a little resting your head on the seat behind you as he drove you god knows where.

[ryuichirou]

I really don’t understand the story of /tw/ in general. People are using them so much and for everything: it’s so fucking annoying and ridiculous! They even put it for food!??! If we should follow their silly reasonings, TV should put a content warning for every single fucking thing, even food programs. And what’s even the point??? Cause surely I can’t get it at all.

I feel like new generations are pretty much spoiled, so used to live in a crystal cage that expect the whole internet/world to be ready to adapt at their poor and fragile sensibility at any moment. This is a fucking joke, I swear: these (most of times underaged) persons don’t know shit about life, and it shows so much.

The only content that should be tagged is 18+ or NSWF (whatever they call it) content, and that’s totally enough: if they find a page where the creator says there’s the kind of content they don’t like they should just move the fuck on and ignore the page, instead of being angry or flustered because not every content is specifically made for them or doesn’t align with their sometimesboringwhenitcomestoantis taste. But even if they find a pic in their tl about something they don’t like, what’s so difficult in blocking the artist and just ignore the thing? If a pic is able to ruin their whole day, well I guess there’s a serious psychological problem behind the surface. If their sensibility is that much fragile that they need a tw for every single thing, they either need to stop using internet or contact a therapist to resolve their issues imo. If their life is so empty that they can’t stand some artists making a drawing of something they don’t like or that somehow triggers them (Awwwww poor things, as if I give a shit🙄) they should start going out more, experiencing some fresh grass or hanging out with some friends.

I’m so done of these persons making a fucking dictatorship on the internet, feeling allowed to say whatever the fuck they want cause “buhuhu, how dare u hurting my poor soul so bad!!!!” Who the fuck cares? Who the fuck are you??? You are literally noone to me, I don’t know you and I don’t even wanna know you: I make this content for myself in first place and eventually for every one who shares my tastes. Don’t like it? Well, I don’t give a damn and I don’t feel sorry at all: internet is a goddamn free place, where you can find everything. Didn’t mommy and daddy told u that? Welcome in the world, hon! But imma tell u a secret right away: you have the right and the POSSIBILITY to ignore the content you don’t like (WOW!), keep scrolling (OMG!!) and especially leave artists/content creators the fuck alone, you spoiled child, cause yeah the world doesn’t revolve around your tiny ass.

Am I being harsh? Yeah, I know. But I’ve reached my limit with this thing, and this is exeedingly ridiculous.

As a content creator myself, I totally understand you guys. I love you, I love the content you produce and I’ll keep supporting you forever.

Omg Anon look at us getting all mad over this thing haha, but yeah. It’s pretty much exactly how you described.

While I do understand that food isn't exactly what I draw and I understand that people have different limits to what they want and don’t want to see, it’s impossible to consider every single thing that might affect someone. I think it's people's responsibility to manage their own timelines - that's what I do constantly because there's a lot of stuff I never want to see in my life. Maybe it’s us growing up in a completely different internet space (and time…), maybe it’s a matter of taste, but unless it’s an example of severe cruelty or realistically rendered rotting piece of flesh, i.e. something that could legitimately scar a person, I’m sorry, but I can’t see myself tagging these types of drawings… It’s not even graphic, it’s just an anime boy head with some blood on it, you can’t even see the cut and you wouldn’t stop to think about it twice. I redrew a screencap with Eren's arm being bitten off where you can see meat and even the bone, and there, for some surprising reason, nobody said anything. Is it because it was in the manga? I don't know. Zeke's flying head was also in the manga. I plan on redrawing Eren cutting off his leg and eye poking properly this time, it's also fucking graphic. Most of the time I don't even know what tags to use (the mushroom drawing with poorly drawn holes and barely any shading that people enjoyed complaining about - what the fuck did I draw? Body horror? Because I don't consider this child scribble body horror, one of the prompts for the month is actually "body horror", so this wasn't it. It was just a creepy thing, somewhat gross), and if I were to use most of them, like I said, it breaks my posts.

My overall blog has a warning (a poor one thanks to the symbol limit which is mostly eaten by me screaming about the prohibition of reposting my art), and I think it's more than enough.

I can live without people constantly going "what", "wtf", "no", "nah", "the fuck/hell", and whatever unoriginal comment they can come up with under my drawings. If you have nothing to say, then shut the fuck up, how about that. I'm sorry that my art is somewhat popular, and people see it.

Anyways. Thanks a lot for your support and love, we appreciate it a lot <3

[hex6rcist]

can i request a biker jin and a shyer but still badass reader? like they met at a bar and they exchanged numbers and he invites her over to ride his motorcycle around the city?

Ahhh this ask is soooo cute. I’m not 100% happy with this but I hope you enjoy it. <3 Lots of fluffy cuteness ahead. This ended up being kinda long so I threw in a lil read more as to not murder anyone’s dash. 

w/c: 2,600+

Jin slipped into the smoky bar a hand raking through his hair as he looked for a spot. It wasn’t terribly busy for a Friday night but it didn’t look like he’d have the luxury of sitting alone. He eyed up each patron who had an empty seat next to them trying to decide who he’d care to deal with. Finally he decided to sit next to a pretty girl at the end of the bar who seemed more interested in her drink than bothering anyone else. He slipped into the spot next to you silently. You spared him a shy glance tucking a strand of hair behind your ear before returning your gaze to the beer in front of you. Delicate fingers played idly with the tab of your can, further chipping away at your nail polish. Without his mask Jin had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from making any kind of inappropriate comment that floated through his mind to you. Instead he focused on flagging down the bartender and ordering a drink. He didn’t like spending too much time in the bar, preferring to drink alone at his motel, but today had been particularly stressful and he didn’t think he could make it all the way home without losing it. His scar throbbed uncomfortably as if in agreement. He squeezed the bridge of his nose and tried to ease the ache while he waited on his beer. Next to him you shift in your seat to dig thorough your over stuffed messenger bag. Finally you pulled out a small packet that contained 2 aspirin before straightening up. Unsure on how to go about this you simply decided to slide them over next to his free hand just as his drink arrived. Jin glanced between you and the small packet. “Uh, you looked like you could use it...” you explained quietly. Jin couldn’t help but stare at you like an idiot, mouth opening and closing. He wanted to say something, thank you, but what if he said something awful? Finally his hand rested over the packet and he pulled it towards himself. “Thanks. I appreciate-” “I don’t need your drugs, lady!” Jin’s loud outburst drew some looks down their end of the bar. Your whole face flushed with surprise and embarrassment and your eyed dropped back down to your drink. “N-No sorry! I didn’t mean that. I ugh...” He gripped his head, choking back more unwanted words. Today was really not his day. You gripped your can a bit tighter, denting it with your fingers slightly before letting the dents pop back out, a nervous habit. “I-It’s okay. Just caught me off guard.” You still gave him a little smile. Jin couldn’t help but chuckle a little. “Yeah, me too.” “Nothing surprises me.” You quirked an eyebrow and leaned in a little. ‘“You’re kinda weird, dude.” You’d said it like it was just a secret between the two of you but Jin knew that it was obvious to anyone who’d ever met him. He looked down and tore open the little packet to dump the medicine in his hand. “I’m totally normal!” “You’re telling me.” He downed the pills with his beer. “Well, it’s better to be weird than boring.” You took a long drink from your own can before denting the sides in and sliding it to the end of the bar to signal that you were ready for another. Jin finally turned his head to really look at his new companion. He’d realized when he first looked at you from across the room that you were pretty, but up close he thought you were more than that. You were beautiful. He admired the slope of your nose and the tilt of your lips as you smiled at the bartender who’d brought you a new drink. He didn’t realize he’d been staring until your bright e/c eyes locked with his. Jin could feel his cheeks warming and was glad to see your’s were too at least. His eyes darted away from your’s and focused on the motorcycle helmet that had been sitting next to you on the bar. It was worn and covered in stickers, a sure sign that you’d had it for a while. your gaze followed his and you set a hand on top of your helmet. “You uh, you ride at all?”  He nodded, “Yeah I do actually.”

With an easy opening Jin actually found it pretty easy to talk to you. He thought you were sweet and receptive, not at all judgmental about his tic or his ideas. He couldn’t help but feel disappointed when the bar closed and you both had to leave. He hadn’t even realized he had been there that long. You made hours feel like just a few minutes to him. He walked you out to your bike, a V7 III Stone in all black that he though suited you well. Before you got on you tucked your helmet under your arm and reached into your bag to pull out a sharpie. Pulling the cap off with your teeth you mustered all your confidence and tentatively took Jin’s hand in your own to write out your phone number on his palm. He felt like his heart was going to beat right out of his chest. Was this real? You looked up at him through your lashes as you recapped the marker. “Uhm, call me? Ya know, if you want.” “I definitely will.” “Don’t hold your breath.” You were already catching on to his odd little habit so you paid it no mind. With a little wave you got on your bike and rode off, leaving Jin to stare down at his marked palm, heart fluttering.

The next day Jin spent most of the morning pacing around his apartment trying to figure out what to do next. You’d made the first move and now it was his turn to be brave. Jin decided he’d text you, leaving more room for him to convey what he wanted to say without any mess ups. But what the hell did he say? He felt like a teenage boy, agonizing over what to text his crush. Voices bounced around in his head, each one making a worse suggestion than the last. ‘Play it cool, just say what’s up bitch?’ ‘No absolutely not.’ ‘Okay, okay how about we just show her what’s up and send her a dick pic.’ “Ugh! No! Shut up!” Jin threw his phone onto his bed before collapsing on it himself. ‘Maybe we should just call her.’ Finally a good idea. ‘Are you gonna keep quiet?’ ‘I’m a free man! I can say what I want!’ Despite himself Jin picked up his phone and hit the call button. It rang a few times before your voice came on the other end. “Hello?” “Hey, y/n! It’s uh, it’s Jin, from the other night.” “This is a call about your car’s extended warranty don’t hang up!” Jin was inches from slamming his head into a wall but the sound of your cute giggles stopped him from committing. “Hey, I’m glad you called. I-I had fun with you last night.” “We can have fun tonight too.” His hand came up to cover his mouth. God maybe this was a mistake. “I-I mean- What I mean is I was wondering if you’d want to come for a ride with me tonight. I can pick you up and maybe we can get some food?” If only Jin could have seen your smile on the other end, or the way you bounced on the balls of your feet in excitement his heart would have melted. “I’d really like that! I’m free around 6 if that works for you?” “6 is perfect.” “Aw I can’t see you sooner?” Jin bit the inside of his cheek when he heard you huff out another little giggle. “6 it is. I’ll text you my address.” “Sounds good. I’ll see you later then.” He combed his fingers through his hair with a little smile. “See ya later!”

When you were off the phone Jin let out a deep breath. He didn’t know how but he’d pulled it off. He had a date tonight with a beautiful girl he met at the bar. In a rare moment Jin felt really normal. Just a regular guy going on a date. What a life. He had to text Toga about this.

That night Jin made sure to be exactly on time and he’d stopped to get you some flowers along the way, Toga’s suggestion. Jin also knew just the right route to bring you on. It wasn’t so stop and go, it had a nice view of the city and the beach, and at the end it lead right to his favorite food spot. It’d be a perfect ride. He parked his bike out front and anxiously sat outside your door for a few moments before he worked up the courage to knock. When you answered he was once again taken aback by just how damn good you looked. “Hey! I got you these.” He held out the simple bouquet he’d admittedly got from the gas station down the street. You gladly accepted them your cheeks tinting. You really hadn’t expected such a sweet gesture. “You wanna come in for a minute? I just gotta feed my dog and put on my boots, besides I want to get these in water.” You motioned to the flowers before standing aside to let him in. He took slow nervous steps into your home and took off his own boots while you moved to find a vase for your flowers. A task that might not be hard for you he realized as he took in all the little plants that lined your windows. When he walked further into the apartment he was greeted with a cheery bark. He looked over as a large Akita hopped off the couch and ran up to greet him, tail wagging. He reared up on his back paws, front paws finding purchase on Jin’s shoulders. He laughed graciously and scratched the pup behind the ear. The dog’s tongue lolled out before licking Jin’s face. “Kenshin! Down!” You ran into the room to grab your dog, Kenshin, by the collar and pull him down off of Jin. “I’m sorry, he’s super friendly. He just forgets his manners when there’s new people around.” ‘Don’t worry about it, he’s real sweat.” “He’s a beast!” You couldn’t help but let out a loud laugh at that. “He’s both. C’mon boy. Let’s get you dinner.” The large dog bounded after you and into the kitchen skidding to a halt at it’s bowl. Jin watched with a smile as you filled up his bowl with a large serving of dog food and cooed at him to be good while you were gone. As if he thought he couldn’t like you more. Finally you made your way back over to Jin “Sorry about that, thanks for waiting.” “No problem.” “Let’s get this show on the road!”

Jin didn’t often ride with anyone else on his bike so he made a solid effort to be a lot more careful than he’d normally be. Though he struggled not to get distracted (and a little turned on) by your chest pressed against his back and your arms wrapped securely around his waist. And fuck did he love hearing your voice right in his ear. For once it felt like everything was going just right for him. You even reached the beach just in time to watch the sun set over the horizon. He couldn’t imagine a more prefect date than this. But of course Jin’s luck never held out that long. When you arrived at the restaurant Jin was surprised to find them closed, a handwritten sign in the window saying they had a plumbing problem that needed fixing and would be closed for the next few days. “Shit, I’m sorry. I dragged you all the way out here.” “I knew they’d be closed.” He rubbed the back of his neck anxiously. You reached up to take his hand in your own and pull it away from his neck with a little smile. “That’s okay we aren’t too far away from the beach and I think the Yatai over there stay open kinda late. Maybe we can grab some ramen?” Jin let his fingers intertwine with yours. “Yeah that’s a good idea.” You gave his hand a little squeeze and for a moment you thought about leaning up to kiss him but he was already leading you back to his bike and you felt your courage dwindle.

When you arrived at the boardwalk you were both glad to find that the Yatai were still in fact open. You took a seat together and ordered 2 bowls of ramen. Jin couldn’t help but feel relived this was just as affordable as the place he’d been planning to take you. He wasn’t cheap he just didn’t have as much to spend as he used to these days. As you both waited for your food and chatted you found your hand slowly sliding across the counter towards Jin’s, his met you half way and your fingers brushed lightly before twining once again. He ran a calloused pad over your knuckles before raising your hand up, he cautiously glanced around to make sure no one would notice the fairly public display before pressing a light kiss to your knuckles. He took a moment to really appreciate the feeling of your soft skin against his lips, eyes closing before setting your hand back down on the counter. Your face was so red you were almost afraid you’d pass out right there. “Sorry.” “Totally not sorry!” 2 bowls of ramen were placed in front of you before you could even respond. The only sign that anything had happened now was the lingering blush on both of your faces.

Now full of good food you and Jin walked hand and hand out of the small stall and down to the sandy shore, shucking off your boots and socks. Unknowingly you and Jin shared the same thought. ‘I really hope she/he can’t smell my boots right now.’  You shot each other nervous smiles. It was dark now making the late spring air cool and crisp. Jin saw this as the perfect opportunity to wrap his arm securely around you and pull you against his side as you walk down the shore together, just out of the lapping ocean’s icy reach. You gladly nestled into his side, resting your head against his shoulder. “Just for the record, this is probably the best first date I’ve been on.” Your head lolls back a little so you can catch his gaze. “Really?” ‘Of course it is! I’m awesome.” Jin clears his throat, “I uh, I think it’s been pretty good too.” “This is awful.” You quirk an eyebrow at him, “Pretty good huh?” “Yeah, there’s still one thing I want to do before I’d say it’s the best.” He held you still so he could stand before you. Slowly Jin leaned down to catch your lips in a chaste kiss. You smile up at him before throwing your arms around his neck and pulling him in once again. He was a little surprised at how bold you could sometimes be. But if this was what it got him he didn’t mind at all. His arms wrapped tightly around your waist to pull you flush against him while your fingers tanged in the hair at the base of his head. When you two parted it was only to catch your breath. “Yeah now it’s a perfect date.” “It’s been okay I guess.”  

[nereol]

I’ll Be Your Animal (8/8)

Final part of my Val / Emmerick short story!

You can read this on AO3 or on my WorldAnvil page (with pics, music and other stuff).

“So, how does this work?” Emmerick asks. “What?” Val looks at him, eyebrows slightly raised. “Being not your input.”

Maybe this chrome-guess-game-thing is something Val likes to do as foreplay... have to think about it.

The alarm rings. Val rolls over in her bed with a groan. It's early evening, she slept just a few hours. She yawns when she sits up in her bed and picks up her phone.

I've got a gig tonight, done 'round 6 am. Wanna drop by?

You even have to ask?

MB H10. We can grab some food at the entrance. Gimme a call when ya here.

Will do.

---

She just came home from the gig. She takes out her phone. 5:45 am, he's off in 15 minutes.

Gig went well, I'm home. Waiting for you xoxo.

She puts her phone on her desk, checks her mails, nothing new. Weapons into storage, clothes off, radio on.

Just a quick shower to get rid of dust and dirt from the gig. The braids are new, so no hair wash. Nibbles is complaining in front of his bowl and Val feeds him before putting on clothes. She's looking around her apartment while she tucks her top into the hot pants and decides to tidy up a little.

Then Emmerick calls. “Hey.” Val smirks at him via the holo. “Hey. I'm here.” His voice is calm. Val slips into some sneakers. “I'll come pick ya up... go choose somethin' to eat.” She leaves her apartment. “I'm allowed to take the tab?” Emmerick smirks and Val chuckles. “This time, yeah.”

---

The elevator reaches the first floor and Val looks around after leaving it. It's busy like always, typical for a megabuilding, regardless of the time of the day. But she finds Emmerick quickly, he's big enough to stick out while he's standing in front of a food stall, handing over some eddies.

She steps beside him. “Hey there, big boy.” He turns around with a slight smile. “Hey, gorgeous.” And leans down to kiss her. “Damn, I've missed ya.” He murmurs against her lips and Val chuckles. "How long since we' ve seen each other? Three days?" Well, last time she left him with a hard-on. He kisses her again. "Three days too many." The vendor puts a bag with their food on the counter and Emmerick takes it. “Come.” Val grabs his other hand with her smaller ones and leads him towards the elevator.

She doesn't let go of his hand at the elevator and he leans down to kiss her again. Bit greedier this time. Val pulls back with a chuckle. “Let's have some food first.” “I'd rather snack you.” Emmerick steals another kiss. She releases his hand and puts both of hers on his chest to hold him back. “I'm sure, you would.” She smirks. “But I'm starving. So let's save that for dessert.”

The elevator stops and Emmerick sighs. “Fine...” He eyes her while she leaves the elevator and looks at her butt for a moment, before he follows her through the seventh floor. “Oh, you have a gym...” He looks around slightly interested. She shrugs. ���Well, I don't use it.” She nods towards the training bot. “I've trained a bit with that one.” “Yeah, I've seen you moves up close.” He looks down at her arms and remembers the Mantis Blade at his throat pretty well. She chuckles.

After entering her apartment Val slips out of her sneakers. “Make yourself at home.” She nods towards the couch. “If ya don't like the music just switch it...” Emmerick looks around a little, puts the food on the coffee table and takes off his shoes after he sits down. Val walks over to the storage room. “Beer, cola or...?” “Beer” Emmerick answers quickly.

Nibbles jumps from the bed, stills and looks at Emmerick skeptical. Emmerick looks at the cat, then at Val when she puts to bottles on the table. Then his gaze falls on her chest, where the outlines of her pierced nipples show through her tank top. She sits down besides him, one leg folded under the other. “Just ignore him, he's shy with new people.” Val leans forward to grab a noodle box and then back on the couch. Nibbles walks over to the bean bag besides the door.

They're eating without talking much. When Val's finished she takes a sip and leans back, beer bottle in her hand. “Hmm...” Emmerick looks at her questioningly after her hum. “You were with the Animals?” Val eyes him. He frowns a little. “Why do ya ask?” She shrugs and takes a sip. “Just curious.” “You heard rumors?” He gives her a suspicious look. “Nah...” Val shakes her head. “Just merc intuition.” She grins, puts the bottle away and moves closer to him.

“I've seen quite a few Animals now...” She studies his face. “With chrome in the same style.” Emmerick nods. “Yeah, you're right.” His voice is calm again. "But that's been a while... I'm not on Juice or other stuff anymore." "Good for ya." Val nods. “So, question. The chrome...” Val raises one hand to gently touch the cyberware at his jaw. “Is it 'cause nose and jaw are broken to many time, to fix it?” She lowers her hand. “... or is it precaution?” “Depends...” He looks in her eyes. “My nose was broken several times.” He shrugs. “But, yeah, it's more kinda precaution.” “I got my nose broken few weeks after I got back from Atlanta.” Val grimaces at the memory.

Emmerick puts his empty bottle away and Val stands up from the couch to sit down on his lap astride. His hands are on her naked thighs immediately. “Mhmm.” He hums with satisfaction. He studies her face. “But it's healed well...” He leans in. “Beautiful nose, like the rest of you.” His voice is low and husky and Val closes the space between them to kiss him. Sweet and tender.

She pulls back. “So, what else do ya got?” He looks at her questioningly. “Chrome.” She smirks and eyes him. “What about your merc intuition?” He grins a little. “Try an' guess.” “Hmm...” Val studies him. “I've seen a lot chrome collarbones and stuff, but obviously that's not a thing.” She leans down to kiss his neck and the edge of his collarbones. He lets out a little moan. Val pulls back, sits straight again. “Same goes for hands.” She looks down at his big hand on her thighs. “...'ganic.” He strokes up and down her legs and she feels warmth spreading out through her body.

“Arms an' elbows.” She looks at him, never seen him without jacket. “Makes sense... punchin' and...” “Right elbow.” He interrupts her and leans forward to pull off his jacket. She studies him closely, how his muscles tighten while he moves. Then he leans back at the couch again, in his tank top. Val takes one deep breath.

Yes, he's big and beefy. But not as extreme as she had seen other Animals. He has some older, smaller scars and also stretch marks. But nothing like torn skin or other skin change as effect of Juice and none intentionally created scars, like tiger stripes and what else the Animals do. Val's gaze trails over him. He smirks. “Like what ya see?”

As an answer she puts her hands on his shoulders, strokes down his biceps and up again to his chest along his neckline. While doing so she's leaning forward, kissing him, slowly but deep. He moans in her mouth and his hands are on her thighs again

“What about you?” He eyes her after they break the kiss. “Mantis Blades of course.” He takes her right hand is his and turns it with the palm upwards. “And coprosessor. But not much chrome to see on you.” “New tendons in heels and ankles.” She presses her legs a bit closer against him and he looks down. “Well made, your legs look 'ganic.” Then he looks into her eyes. “So you can jump extra high?” Val nods. “It's fun.” She smirks and Emmerick chuckles. A deep sound that tingles in her belly. And way deeper.

“Both knees.” Emmerick's talking about his own, but he strokes Vals knees, right and left from his body on the couch while speaking. “To much weight, to many squats." She nods. “People getting' new knees since 100 years or what...” She thinks for a moment. “My immune system's chipped. I'm resistant to almost any poison.” “Handy.” His voice is husky and his hands move up her legs to grab her butt firmly. Val lets out a low moan, takes a deep breath. “Optics, of course.” Emmerick nods while he kneads her butt. “Of course.” “But they resemble my natural eye color pretty well. Maybe a bit deeper green.” Her breathing is heavier now, her chest goes up and down.

"I've got a second heart.” He looks her in the eyes, hungry. She puts her hands on his hard chest, feels his muscles under his tank top. “My body couldn't handle that. To small, to weak.” “Oh, you're not weak.” He holds her butt tight. “You...” She lets out a small moans and he growls in satisfaction. “You know what I mean.” She looks him in the eyes. Then she grabs his top and pulls it up. He raises his arms and helps to pull it off. She eyes him, takes in every detail. She breathes heavily through her slightly opened mouth. “Damn...” Almost a growl and he puts his hands back at her butt. “Just you lookin' at me like that is enough to make me hard.” His voice is low and husky.

Val giggles softly. “So no second heart, just a blood pump and some vessels.” She looks deep into his eyes and takes off her top slowly. Emmerick's breath goes heavy while he watches her closely and his hands holding her ass tighter. She drops her top on the floor and leans forward to kiss him deep, roughly.

One of his hands is on her naked breast and while she leans closer she can feel him hard against her, right where she wants him, needs him. Val rolls her hips against him and he moans loud against her mouth. Then Emmerick graps her and stands up. She wraps her legs around him intuitively while he holds her and walks over to her bed.

---

They are lying next to each other, naked, sweaty, still breathless. Emmerick lies sideways leaning on his chrome elbow while two fingers of his other hand tenderly stroking up and down her naked body, giving her goosebumps. “Mhmm.” Val lies on her back, humming satisfied.

“So, how does this work?” he asks. “What?” Val looks at him, eyebrows slightly raised. “Being not your input.” Emmerick still strokes her. She giggles. “Hmm...” Val looks up at the ceiling and thinks about it.

“I've got a few friends and mates, we hang out, spend time together, do normal friend stuff, but...” “...with benefits.” he adds. She nods. “You could call it like that.”

Emmerick's fingers stroke up her belly and between her naked breasts. “I might need to remind myself that you're not mine sometimes... that I don't punch other men in the face for kissing you.” “Please don't hit non-men either.” Vals voice is calm. “Right...” He nods. “You're not straight.” “I don't care for sex or gender...” Silents. He still caresses her, his fingers draw along the lines of the ink on her chest.

“Not sure if I can do 'normal friend stuff' with you... I'm getting all hot every time I see ya.” Emmerick's voice is a bit husky again. Val chuckles and rolls over on her side to look at him. His fingers are on her side, sliding down her waist and hip. “We can let each other know... when we have time...” She eyes him, taking in the sight of him, naked. “And when we need each other.” She smirks at him.

“I think I wanna let ya know that I need you.” He leans above her. "Again." His hand, which had caressed her gently before, grabs her ass tightly. "Now." And Emmerick kisses her. Val giggles against his mouth and wraps her arm around his neck before she kisses him back.

[ace-apple]

cbuUgw

(chumlochcaight so since i recently made a new ref for her CHORAN MASTERPOST (aka infodumping on my fave oc)

ALL HER INFO UNDER THE CUT (its really fucking long!!)

Part 1: Lochainin

aight so first off ill need to explain lochainin

(the lochainin campaign is set in the year 1987 in michigan (well when they’re not in lochainin) btw!)

choran is actually a dnd character of mine in a campain called lochainin im doing with a couple friends

and this is a group pic of all the player characters i made a while back! ill summarize them from left to right (pls remember that only choran is mine!!)

quinn- 11 yrs old, he/him, jewish, has an affinity for moss and pretty much lives in the woods. druid

hans- 10 years old, he/him, german, loves frogs and is all around baby. druid

emerson- 10 years old, she/her, german, hans’ twin sister. more levelheaded. barbarian (both hans and emerson are technically npcs now, since the person who played the two of them left the campaign) 

choran: 15 years old, she/her, caucasian, chaotic bastard. rogue

delilah- 15 years old, she/her, jersy-italian, her parents have ties to the mafia, choran’s girlfriend, jersey accent. monk

aight so here’s the story/lore

lochainin is an alternate dimension that humans sometimes fall into through puddles. the gang (shown above) jumps in a puddle and falls down into Lochainin. lochainin is a very swamp-like place, but also has other terrain such as forests and caverns. lochainin is inhabited by humanoid frogs and toads (called losgann and buaf/buof respectively), they have human intelligence, posture, and speech capabilities, but some things like modern medicine are foreign to them. 

now there’s this Empire we barely know jack shit about but it exists and most of the humans that fall down end up with the Empire. currently in this campaign all we know is that a lot of people dont like the empire. we just know the empire exists

aight here are the npcs (that i can remember lol) 

- Crecil (losgann, he/him, tavern worker, party found him in a sewer not long after falling into lochainin)

-Ugma (buof, she/her, captain of the local guard in one of the villages)

-Zax (buof, they/them, good at navigating, at the time of writing this we’re going with him to the north to look for dryads cause they might know the way back home)

-Iris (buof, witch in t’og swamp who gives quinn and hans a weird potion that essentially takes them on an acid trip where they both get their druid levels)

locations: T’og swamp- village the party comes across after finding Crecil, has a tavern, local guard (Ugma is the captain) that is pretty much all volunteer work (choran joins up with them for a day at one point), and a market.

Crystal path- cavern with lots of crystals. they have fiberglass like shards when you lick them (we know this because choran licked one of the rocks). has large crystal beetles who’s blood can be cooked for good nutrition.

Part 2: Story

this is just a summary of the stuff that has happened in the campaign so far (as of writing this) (might not be accurate since none of us took any fucking notes lol)

they fall into a puddle and end up in lochainin. choran finds a human skull in a sewer and decides to keep it. they fight a strange acid spitting monster that almost killed choran by getting acid on her arm (that’s where her arm scar is from!) they find crecil in a cage but had found a key earlier. choran takes an axe out of a block of wood they found in a dead end.

they show up at t’og swamp and stay at the tavern. at one point choran gets drunk off of a substance known as death cap ale (death cap being a type of mushroom). we still have no idea if that was poisonous or not. 

uhhh a lot of stuff i dont remember cause it was a while ago and i spaced out a bunch

eventually they come across some tower place i also dont remember why we were there. a couple of losgann were fighting each other, eventually they notice us after one of the party members failed a sneak roll, we fought them but choran killed one of them after getting stabbed in the ankle (she sliced their neck with an axe). since their death was completely unnecessary nobody is very happy with choran for doing this. delilah is especially unhappy with her girlfriend for commiting homicide.

 fasldkjfasolfjasdo;lf and now theyre in the crystal path with zax going to look for the dryads since they might know a way for the party to get out of the place.

Part 3: Choran

oh hey now we finally get to my girl!!! might as well start with the basics of a dnd character: stats and shit

Strength: 13 Dexterity: 17  Constitution: 13  Intelligence: 13  Wisdom: 13  Charisma: 17

(yeah my stat rolls were really crazy)

Alighment: Chaotic Neutral

Race: Human (all of the party is!)

Class: Rogue

unfortunately, i don’t have my character sheet and i dont have it listed elsewhere so i dont remember any of my proficiencies or most of my items, but i do know she has a human skull on her that she found in the sewer they found crecil in

she’s a bit of a wild child, rebellious teen phase is turned up to 11 with her. she got a tattoo that may or may not have been legally obtained (the warning symbol on her right shoulder). her and delilah have been banned from their local cvs pharmacy. 

now for backstory, and hoo boy.

alright so choran was born to two rich parents who were very strict about her life. textbook helicopter parenthood and then some, really. they didn’t let her make friends, enrolled her in a private school (the kind with uniforms and shit, not the kind too poor for a janitor like my private school). they often told her exactly how to behave, with their own words contradicting themselves! (aka one time theyll tell her to speak up and another time theyll tell her to be quiet). she felt like her parents could never make up their minds about what they wanted her to be.  Eventually in 5th grade they let her go to a public school, but still forced her to wear skirts and proper clothes and not really express herself. By the end of 6th grade her parents sent her to live with her aunt on the other side of town, despite having always called her a “bad influence”. turns out that bad influence was actually being a decent human being to choran, letting her actually have friends over, go to parks, choose her own clothes, etc. in middle school she met delilah and quinn, and eventually through delilah she met the german twins.  her original name wasnt actually choran by the way! her full legal name is Lalia Ouroban, but since she moved and got her own life away from her parents she decided to go by Choran. the only member of the party to know her real name is Delilah. and then in 8th grade choran and delilah started dating and then the lochainin events happened!

[some-cookie-crumbz]

Meet Cute prompts, 47" w TodoDeku???

OOOhhhh boi~! This was a real fun one~!

Prompt: Texting the wrong number but continuing the conversation.

"Get a studio apartment!" Natsuo had insisted. "You don't need a lot of space and it'll be more cost efficient!" He said.

Shouto made a mental note to inform Fuyumi that she was his only sibling now.

He groaned as he dropped his school bag and umbrella by the door, then kicked off his shoes. A loud clattering came from the small half-wall that separated the living room space from the bedroom space, watching as a cream colored cat tower toppled right over with a black and white lump fluffed to about twice his normal size clutching the side of it. He winced at the loud clatter it made, knowing that his neighbors would have words with him about that later, and let his head fall back. "Punchy," he breathed out, barely restraining the frustration in his tone.

An excited mewl came from the cat and, when he glanced back down, he'd abandoned the tree and was making a beeline for Shouto. His tail was up high and his yellow eyes gleamed with excitement.

"Punchy," he said, kneeling down to scoop him up, "why do you do this? Do you hate your tree?" He knew he was just talking to himself, but it helped to relax him. When he first got his apartment, he had been surprised by how lonely he felt. Fuyumi had suggested he get a pet, to help keep him company. Looking into it, he found that cats were listed as the best apartment animal, since they were typically pretty independent and could handle long stretches of time alone better than most breeds of dog.

Except, as fate would have it, Shouto had picked the clingiest, neediest kitten to ever exist. Not that he minded, really. He appreciated how affectionate and chatty his four-legged friend was. He just wished that his apartment was a little bit bigger, since it seemed that his rambunctious feline might need more room. 

Punchy let out a chirping little mew in response to his question before headbutting up against his chin. Shouto snorted a bit, bringing one hand up to gently scratch right between his eyes, then gave a few right between his shoulder blades and set him down. He propped the cat tree back up before changing out of his wet clothes and into something dry and warm.

Once that was done, he settled on the couch, his cat right behind him, and started reading articles on his phone. Punchy curled up on his stomach and he dropped one hand to gently pet his head and back, smiling at the rumbly purrs he was awarded. Things were all quiet for about fifteen minutes before his phone pinged with a new text messaging from an unfamiliar number. Which was followed almost immediately by another.

Shouto scowled and toggled over to his messages, clicking on the unread texts.

xxxx-xxx-xxx (5:34 P.M.):

JDOWOJDKIDI ITTY BITTIES

I FOUND ITTY BITTY BABY KITTIES

He blinked slowly, tilting his head curiously at the message. He wanted to say they were excited, but they could also be panicked and looking to ask a friend for help. He figured he should let them know, so they could make sure the tiny kittens were well taken care of.

Me (5:36 P.M.):

Sorry, wrong #

He then paused for a few moments, considering his next move carefully as interest took over, before jotting down another message.

Me (5:38 P.M.):

But pics or it didn't happen

He waited a full ten minutes, waiting to see if he heard back, before settling his phone aside and going to make himself dinner. By the time he was done preparing his own meal and serving Punchy's evening serving of wet food, his phone chimed again several times in a row. He set his plate down on the small table, slid to sitting, and pulled up the message.

He was greeted by several pictures. The first was a picture of five bundled up little fur balls, all squished together in a big and fluffy towel, being cradled by a lightly tanned arm littered in scars. All five had their heads tilted up to stare at the camera and he let out a small whine at how cute and tiny they all were. They were even smaller than Punchy when he brought him home eight months ago! And all their eyes were still that foggy blue-grey all kittens had until their natural color developed. They probably weren't any older than four, maybe five, weeks.

The pictures to follow were of the kittens individually, carefully held up in individual towels so that their markings could be better seen as well as to perhaps determine their genders. The first was mostly brown, but had white mittens on all four paws, the tip of its tail and ears, and it’s little chin. The second was of a little orange tabby kitten, but they seemed to be wiggling about too much and a portion of the green towel the mystery texter had bundled them in was covering the top of their little head. The next was of another tabby, but this one was grey; light grey over most of the body with darker grey stripes and little white paws just like the first. The fourth kitten was another brown and white mix, with the same white markings on their paws and tail as the first, but there was more white along their face, with a strip of brown leading from their little pink nose and getting wider and arching around his eyes and head. The last kitten was a tuxedo, much like Shouto’s own Punchy was, and had markings that seemed to be a sort of hod-podge of the first and fourth. Number five had the same white on its paws and tail as they did, but there was a bit more mottling on its paws where the fur colored changed from black to white - while the divide was clear on the other kittens - and there was more white markings on its face with a thin strip of black under each eye.

All in all, a ridiculously adorable litter of kittens.

Me (6:24 P.M.):

Oh no

They cute

He set his phone aside as he started to eat, turning the television on and switching it over to a crime show for background noise. His phone pinged two more times in the minutes to follow, but he waited until he was mostly done with his food to check again.

xxxx-xxx-xxx (6:27 P.M.):

rite?????

xxxx-xxx-xxx (6:33 P.M.):

Pic

I mom now

The picture was of all five kittens, nestled in their towels and being held between what seemed to be a heating pad and what was clearly a well-defined chest. And that chest was attached to a face, too. He seemed to be about Shouto’s age with wild green curls and big, bright, wide green eyes. His cheeks were covered in freckles and his lower lip was jutted out slightly, clearly melting over the five furry babies in his arm. Shouto’s heart gave a quick jolt in his chest.

Oh no, he was cute, too.

Me (6:44 P.M.):

I want them on the weekends and holidays.

xxxx-xxx-xxx (6:46 P.M.):

um?????

I am a strong, independent single cat mom who don’t need no man.

Shouto chuckled to himself at the response. He looked down at Punchy, who had clamored back into his lap and dozed off, as he came up with his response.

Me (6:49 P.M.):

You're breaking the family up.

They need their older brother.

xxxx-xxx-xxx (6:50 P.M.):

waIT

u hav kitty???

PICS NAO

Shouto laughed before clicking over to his gallery. He had plenty of pictures of Punchy, but it was determining which ones to send. He shifted through before selecting three. He picked one from when he first brought him home, when he was still just a teeny fuzzball, and put "Smol knockout" underneath. The next one he picked was from about two months ago, when his friends Tenya and Momo had come to hang out one evening. Momo had purchased a little red and black striped tie for him and, not wanting to miss a good photo op, they had put it on him and taken a few pictures. He added the notation of "Business casual Punchy" to that one. Last was from two weeks ago, when he'd come out to see Punchy sitting on the couch like a little person, back legs spread wide to completely expose his pudgy white tum, and one of his front paws resting on the remote as if he was about to change the channel. "It's been a week, hooman," he added to that one.

He grinned and scratched under the aforementioned cat's chin as he watched the little dots appear as the stranger formulated a response. After a moment, he was blown up with emojis and gifs expressing how much he adored the pictures. Then, after a moment, he actually strung words together.

xxxx-xxx-xxx (6:58 P.M.):

I LUV HIM

WAT

IS

HIS NAME

Me (6:59 P.M.):

His name is Punchy

xxxx-xxx-xxx (7:00 P.M.):

DID U NAME HIM AFTER THE CAT FROM AC????

Me (7:00 P.M.):

Ye

xxxx-xxx-xxx (7:01 P.M.):

OMGGGGG

PERF

HE PERF

Me (7:02 P.M.):

He is

From there, they wound up chatting about Animal Crossing, their favorite villagers, favorite games and their opinions on the changes made in New Horizons. They also ended up naming the five found kittens after five more villagers. They chose the names Kitty, Tangy, Lolly, Rudy and Tom for the little babies, given their color patterns and genders. Shouto himself wondered if perhaps he could take Tangy once she was a little bit bigger. Maybe having a little friend would help keep Punchy from going full lunatic when Shouto was away.

But if he wanted to do that, he’d need to know the stranger’s name.

Me (7:48 P.M.):

Btw, I still need to know your name

So I know where to send the custody paperwork

xxxx-xxx-xxx (7:50 P.M.):

u do kno i can counter sue rite?

And then, a second later, he got his actual answer.

xxxx-xxx-xxx (7:51):

Midoriya Izuku

Shouto blinked then chuckled to himself. Midoriya? Really? That felt like a bit of irony, considering the guy was pure green. He added him to his contacts quickly, grateful to have a name to apply to the hot kitten-saving man.

Me (7:53 P.M.):

Todoroki Shouto

Also, wanna come to my island?

I have Raymond

Midoriya Izuku (7:56 P.M.):

KJFGQLIHP9iuoawj;erfkjbhz;.esrhf

YES

IS THAT EVEN A QUESTION????

[yodawgiherd]

Unprofessional Behavior

Rating: M

>>>Read on AO3<<<

Can I write a chapter without a sex scene? Yes! Is it this one? No.... Oh well. I just hope that my recent hornyposting will keep you entertained during this damn lockdown.

Enjoy!

As a model, Mikasa did a serious number of photoshoots up to this day. However, this was the first one where she held the camera. And as her own model was totally clueless about what to do or how this whole thing works, she was completely in control of the scene. Standing in the middle of the room, Eren scratched the back of his neck, looking at her with the face that betrayed just how much he needed the instructions. Well, she was the pro here, wasn’t she?

“All right, so if I remember correctly, we should take three photos, send those to the magazine alongside  the address of the hospital you work in and that should be it.”

“I need to report where I work?”

“It’s supposed to be the hottest surgeon, Eren, not just a random dude. Apparently, they will check by phone if you are employed as one.”

He shrugged, a bit indifferent to this whole ordeal. Mikasa was so eager to get this photoshoot done, and the reason why eluded him. It just didn’t make sense. She was usually quite possessive when it came to her fiancé, so why was she so hellbent on him getting his “sexy” photos out into the world? There had to be something Eren was missing about this whole thing, something that the raven temptress wouldn’t let on. But before this photoshoot was done, the amateur model was determined to crack the case.

“Guess that makes sense.”, looking around, he tried and failed to locate a good place to begin this thing, turning back to Mikasa instead “Where do you want me?”

“It's fine where you are, gives us the perspective and stuff.”

“Ok….”, Eren drawled, apparently waiting for her to begin.

She stared at him. He stared at her. That’s when it hit her.

“Baby,”, she began, “This is supposed to be sexy photoshoot… You know?”

“So? What is the problem?”

He still didn’t get it. Oh well, no reason to draw this out.

“I’m going to need you to lose those clothes.”, she said.

Eren’s eyes widened.

“Are you serious?”

“Not all of them, just strip down to your… let’s say… underwear?”

Eren thought, no hoped, that it was a joke, but her expression was completely serious. She did have a point, when he thought about it, he could hardly present his sexiness dressed in an old t-shirt and a pair of sweats. God help him. With a mortified face, Eren pulled his shirt over his head and stepped out of his pants, baring himself almost completely. Normally, he had no problems with getting naked in front of Mikasa, but the camera in her hand gave this whole scene quite a different vibe. The boxers would stay on this time though, he’s definitely not shooting nudes on his first take. Mikasa was watching him with a forced neutral expression, suppressing the smirk that fought its way on her face. She had to appear professional, otherwise Eren would probably just say fuck it and stop this whole charade. And Mikasa really did want to take these pictures, it was fun not being the model for once.

And Eren was a prime specimen to work with. Even like this, shuffling from one foot to the other, hands twitching nervously at his sides as he didn’t know what to do with them, his lean, muscular form was highly pleasing to look at and Mikasa had a hard time staying focused. She had seen his body so many times over those years they were together, but it was still as appetizing as the first time. Tearing her eyes away from that perfect V under his abs that disappeared beneath the fabric of his underwear she forced herself to stay on her task. There would be plenty of time to fool around later. Raising the camera, she once again took charge of the situation.

“All right, the first photo will be full frontal. Stand straight, legs a bit wider, that’s fine, and hands…. Oh, why don’t you put them behind your head, like when you are fixing your ponytail. It will give a great angle to your biceps.”

Wouldn’t be Eren if he didn’t have a stupid comment about that.

“Or maybe you want me to do that because you are just jealous of my glorious mane?”, he suggested, eyes sparkling.

Frustrated groan leaving her lips, Mikasa ran her hand through her tomboyish short haircut.

“Just do what I told you, okay?”

Following her orders, Eren did as he was told, striking exactly the pose Mikasa wanted. Oh yes, this was good. Putting the camera up to her face, she made sure that the lens stabilized enough before snapping the pic. Perfect.

“So, are we done?”, he asked, droppings his hands from behind the head.

“What? Of course not! The rules said three photos, we are doing three photos.”, making a rotating gesture with her finger, she said the phrase that Eren usually told her when he desired to take her from behind, “Turn around.”

“And why is that, my face boring you?”

“Not at all, but I do want a photo of that nice new tattoo you have.”

That was a request he could get behind. Just the memories of a few nights earlier, when she was on all four in front of him, when he was deep inside her were more than enough. Anytime he thrusted back then, anytime he moved to rub those places deep inside her, her body absorbed the punishing impact, the muscles of her back rippling. From his vantage point behind her, hands gripping her hips, Eren saw the tattoo on her back move too, the wings almost flapping as if Mikasa really was an angel with a pair of real ones on her back. In short, it was spectacular.

Turning to obey, Eren presented his back to her, looking over his shoulder to see if she perhaps had any more commands.

“Use your hands to pull your hair away from the tattoo, I want to see it all. Okay, just like that, now make a bit wider stance, again, and throw me a steamy look over your shoulder. Good, perfect, just a second…”

Raising the camera, she took the second photo, immensely satisfied with her model. Returning to his default stance, Eren looked at her, waiting what she will cook up next. Okay, they had a frontal and back shot, but what about the last one. What should the third photo cover? Hmmm..

Letting her eyes roam all over his body, Mikasa tapped her chin, deep in thought, for once unsure how to continue. She wore clothes in her line of work, presented them, yet Eren was supposed to show off his body, but those two photos covered all of it, so what was she missing? And then it hit her. What was one of the sexiest parts of Eren? His eyes. His eyes where he stared down at her, with that fire inside of them, when he called her his kitten and stroked her head. Now she couldn’t translate all that into a photo, but there was something she could do. Coming closer to him, Mikasa dropped down to her knees, looking up into his slightly confused face.

“What are you doing?”, he asked, staring down.

“I want you to show that fire inside you, that raw sexual energy you can do. That’s sure to blow the competition out of the water.”

A slight blush colored his cheeks, face turning from confused to flustered.

“I-I can’t just summon it on a moment’s notice Mikasa, I can’t just…” he threw his hands up, “I can’t do it just because you want me to.”

That was a good point. Then again, maybe Eren didn’t have to summon it out of thin air, maybe she could give him some…. stimulation. There were ways to tickle his fancy, to awaken that dark side of Eren, and Mikasa had plenty of experience in it. Putting the camera down for a second, Mikasa quickly took off her shirt, reaching behind herself to unclasp her bra right after. Now topless, she looked back up, seeing the familiar spark in his green eyes, roaming over her suddenly exposed abs and breasts. It was good, but it wasn’t enough, it wasn’t that blazing inferno she craved. Moving her shoulders back, Mikasa pushed out her small chest as much as she could, placing her hands on the sides of her breasts.

“Please sir,”, she looked at him through her eyelashes, “Just a little bit…”

Pressing her tits together, she slowly licked her lips before biting the bottom one, giving him the best possible view. And it worked. The spark in Eren’s eyes grew into a fire, his breathing quickened and Mikasa could see how the muscles in his long arms flexed. He wanted to touch her, wanted to take control of this offered situation and only that small logical part of his brain that kept telling him it's only for the photo stopped him from doing so. There was now a considerable bulge in his boxers, another proof that kneeling topless Mikasa is unable to be resisted. Quickly picking up the camera, Mikasa aimed it upwards on his face, grabbing a pretty picture from her low perspective. Yes, this was exactly what she wanted.

“This is great,”, she said, moving to stand up, “Just let me…”

Mikasa was rudely interrupted, however, when Eren put his hands on her shoulders and pushed, not allowing her back up. On her knees, she looked up with a question on her tongue, but it died quickly when she saw that the fire she started was still going strong. It would seem that her teasing was just a tad bit too effective in getting him going. Mikasa had awakened that dark side of her fiancé, and now that it was here it demanded satisfaction before going dormant again. Reaching down, Eren took the camera from her numb fingers and placed it on the chair without looking, his eyes glued to her face. Once that was secure, he placed his palm on her cheek, stroking his thumb alongside her scar.

“Miki, I don’t think I want to let you stand now. You wanted to see my sexual energy, so….”, moving his other hand from her shoulder, he placed in on her face too, tracing the shape of her bottom lip, “How about I give you a demonstration?”

Now that the professionalism was gone, Mikasa couldn’t help but feel the heat between her legs, as if the fire in Eren’s eyes ignited her too. Photos were nice and all, but this could be so, so much better. All she had to do was say yes. Swallowing, she held Eren’s gaze as she nodded.

“I w-would be honored, sir.”

“Good, good. In that case, I think that its time for this photoshoot to move onto the fully nude acts.”

His boxers were gone in a flash, the proof that Mikasa’s teasing was a resounding success was now right in front of her face. His hands were back too, once again anchoring her to the ground.

“First, I want you to do that thing you did when you wanted to get me going.”

It took her a moment before Mikasa understood what he meant, but when she did her hands obediently moved back to her breasts and she pushed them together, same as before. It wasn’t that impressive, her bust was small, but Eren did not care. He never did.

“I’m going to fuck your tits.”, he announced, as if it was the most natural thing to do, “It’s been some time since I’ve done it, I’m sure that your puppies are feeling neglected. Aren’t they?”

She couldn’t not fast enough.

“Of course, sir, begging for your attention.”

With a possessive smirk, Eren grabbed himself and guided his length between her warm mounds. The contradiction between the hardness of Mikasa’s muscled stomach and the softness of her breasts was always fascinating, and it felt even better now that he was experiencing it firsthand. Sure, her tits were small, so it wasn’t exactly perfect, but that hardly mattered. Pushing his thumb into her mouth, he loved how eagerly Mikasa sucked on it, losing herself in this as much as he was.

“Kitten, I love your tits, so perky and firm, I swear I could fall asleep on your chest every night.”, increasing the tempo a bit, he bit back a moan, “I just.. Fuck... I just couldn’t wish for a better pillow.”

Rocking his hips back and forth, he slid between those firm breasts, getting himself all excited. But while fucking her tits was good, Mikasa had a mouth to die for, and Eren wanted to take it as well, considering just how nicely she looked kneeling in front of him. Feeling her tongue toy with his thumb only made him remember how godlike it felt when she was worshipping his cock instead. It would be a damn shame not to take advantage of her blowjob skills, especially after he trained his kitten in this art for so long.

“How about a taste test of that sex appeal of mine, would you be opposed to that?”

Almost automatically, Mikasa’s mouth dropped open, tongue sticking out, waiting for him to claim her. Eyes hooded, she watched as he pulled himself from between her breasts and put the tip inside her mouth instead of his finger. Her pink lips sealed around immediately, eagerly even. Mikasa had developed a certain taste for cock sucking during their time together, despite how disgusting she found the concept first. Tangling his fingers in her short raven hair, he pushed in past her gag reflex. Eren let himself be enveloped by the tight hug of her throat, the muscles of her neck flexing around his length.

“You’re so good at this Miki…”, he groaned, head falling back at that divine feeling of her mouth, “So fucking good…”

Emboldened by his words maybe, Mikasa took more of an active role in this, pulling back to gain control. Letting go of her tits, she curled her fingers around the base of Eren’s cock, focusing her mouth to work on the tip. Sucking diligently, she traced the sensitive head with her tongue, paying special attention to the underside. If her experience with that new toy she got for her puppy taught her anything, it was that this spot made Eren go crazy. It worked again, and she could feel his hips bucking into her mouth, desperate. To give him a little bit of time off, Mikasa pulled her swollen lips from him, littering fleeting kisses to the sack instead, only working the shaft with her hand. Not fast enough to make him cum, but enough to keep him excited. Once again putting her mouth back to work, Mikasa noisily swallowed his length, pushing it deep into her throat until her nose met Eren’s skin. Clenching it around him, she used her hand to play with his balls at the same time, the effect almost immediate.

“Baby I…” chest heaving, sweat running down his face, Eren had a hard time putting one word in front of the other, “I’ so close…”

Eyeing him from underneath her lids, Mikasa only pulled back to tease him with her tongue again, dragging the tip of it against the most sensitive parts. Fully expecting him to come into her mouth, ready to swallow, she was surprised when Eren spoke again.

“I want… I want to cum on your face.”

Deep in the act, Mikasa would not protest. Letting go of him, she watched Eren pull out of her mouth and grab his spit slick length himself, giving one, two desperate strokes before his cock spasmed. Closing her eyes just in time, she felt him shooting his load over her face and chest, coating those cute small tits by his finish. Chest heaving, his dick in his hand, he was quite a sight when she opened them again, such a sight that she regretted ever letting the camera out of her hands. Now this, this would be a prime photo right there. To see what she missed, Mikasa dragged a single finger over her left breast, collecting some of the sticky finish there. Her gaze meeting Eren’s, she kept eye contact while pushing it between her lips, licking her digit clean.

“Delicious.”, she purred, and that was about everything Eren could take.

Grabbing her, Eren made Mikasa stand before basically tearing away her pants and underwear in a single go. Turning her around, he slammed her against the wall, chest first, nudging her legs apart with his knees. But he didn’t fuck her, as she expected, his fingers appeared instead, tracing the outline of her soaking wet labia. She moaned at that, a fact Eren quickly took advantage of as he pressed two fingers into her mouth and explored that lovely mouth of hers. She wanted to touch him, but he didn’t allow her to, holding her in place with his own body, and Mikasa was forced to just moan weakly around his digits as he teased her down there, her own fingers scratching helplessly at the wall. If Eren wanted her desperate, he was doing a fine job, because these light touches were driving her crazy. Not enough to give her any real pleasure, but not weak enough to let her calm down.

It was torture. Looking down, she could see the remnants of Eren’s finish, her brand new pearl necklace, white against the paleness of her skin. He found his release and now was dedicated to tormenting her, maybe a bit of payback for this whole photoshoot idea. It wasn’t that Eren could not fuck her, Mikasa could feel his length resting between her ass cheeks, even moving a bit as he bucked his hips in sync with his hands, rubbing himself on her. He could go, he just didn’t want to. Yet.

Eren’s hands were the instruments of his will. One in her mouth, the other between her legs, he was playing with her, circling her, touching the outsides before dipping a single digit in only to pull it out right after. Eren even attended to her clit, gave it a few teasing strokes before stopping, adding to that mountain of frustration. She tried rubbing her ass on him, knowing Eren’s weakness for that part of her body, but it didn’t do anything. And when she tried speaking, he was quick to react. Pulling his fingers out of her sopping wet sex, he slapped her ass hard, making her cry out around his fingers still deep inside her mouth.

“Did I give you permission to speak?”, another slap, another yelp, “Did I?”

Her words were muffled by those digits between her lips, but Mikasa managed to push out an answer.

“N-No, sir. Sorry!”

A satisfied huff against her neck, but Eren picked up on what she wanted. And he wasn’t ready to give it to her for free. Pulling his wet fingers from her mouth, he moved them down to her breasts instead, playing with the hard nipples, not minding that her tits were still covered by his sticky finish.

“Very well, I’m giving you permission now.”, he said, mouth right next to Mikasa’s ear, “Beg.”

His playful tongue coming out to play, Eren traced the metal circles in Mikasa’s upper ears, toying with the pierced cartilage, tugging at them slightly. Her ears were so sensitive, it took her some courage before Mikasa got them pierced at the top and back, but as a stubborn goth she needed some metal in her and that area was about as far as she was willing to go. Highschool could be crazy sometimes, and some teenage pain was worth showing the world how she felt. The piercings surely added to her sensitivity, because she could literally melt from this alone, from how Eren’s mouth played with that jewelry, how amazing his teeth felt lightly grazing her earlobe. Combine that with his fingers on both her breasts and sex and Mikasa could hardly do more than breathe. It took her a long moment to speak, but Eren didn’t seem to mind, having his fun with all those different parts of her body.

“P-Please I ne-need that thick cock in-,” she swallowed, “Inside me, sir. Please, I ne-need you to f-fuck me, I need it so much…”

“No.”

That single word took the wind from her sails. Was Eren seriously planning on turning her on this hard and then not finishing the job? He wouldn’t do that, would he?

“But sir I…”

“I have a question first, “, he interrupted Mikasa’s begging, “And I want to hear a truthful answer.”

The corners of his lips turned upwards.

“If you lie, I will punish you.”

Swallowing again, because her throat was just so damn dry, Mikasa nodded.

“Why are you so eager to do this photo contest shit? What’s in it for you?”

Opening her mouth, she closed it again, racking her brain for an excuse. She couldn’t tell him the real reason, he would probably just laugh and say how stupid it is.

“I just thought that it would be nice if you tried my line of work..”, she lied, watching him over her shoulder, “You know, we could bind over doing the same thing and…”

“You lie.”, two words, falling like stones.

Surprisingly, he let go of her then, and Mikasa thought that perhaps he gave up on the punishment, but then Eren spoke again.

“You will crawl into our bedroom and bring me the cane which I will spank you with. Now.”

And she did. Falling down on the floor, she moved on all fours like a dog, like the kitten she was, crawled to their bedroom and brought him the instrument of her discipline between her teeth. Her sex was throbbing at this point, sopping wet from all this treatment, and it didn’t look bright in the future either. Retrieving the cane from between her teeth, Eren twirled it between his fingers.

“Lean on the wall,”, he instructed her, “Legs open, wider, wider, that’s fine. I will hit you fifteen times for that lie, with you counting of course, and after that, I will ask you again. If you lie, I will continue with the punishment, if you say the truth, I will finally give you what you want.”

Exposed and open, just as he wanted, Mikasa braced herself for the impact. It still made her cry out, the bite of solid wood rather powerful, setting her backside on fire. To make matters worse, the ripples of the hit traveled all the way to the front, teasing her needy pussy even more. Eren knew what he was doing, the bastard, he knew that pain was pleasure when done correctly, and he was determined to get her as desperate as possible. Edging is fun, especially when he could watch her, watch that amazingly toned athletic body of hers move exactly as he commanded it too, letting him spank her just because he demanded it.

“One.”, she counted as instructed.

She made it up to eight without crying openly, but then the tears of pain overwhelmed her, making her sag against the wall. And Eren waited until she straightened her posture again, strict as he was, nudging her legs a bit wider with the wood. It was an intoxicating feeling, to see her writhe and cry while being disciplined, knowing that she has the power to stop it but won’t do it anyway. Mikasa was his kinky kitten, even without that collar around her neck, and Eren would give her everything she could ever ask for. The ninth smack made her shout, to sob out loud, but her posture held. Eren had trained her well.  When the last hit came, Mikasa’s usually pale ass was positively red, painted over by the smartly placed strokes of wood. It hurt, but it was all done on the fleshy part of her butt, there was no chance of any serious damage inflicted on her. Eren was an experienced master.

“Going to talk now?”, he asked, the cane still ready in his hands, “Or do you need more persuasion?”

While the threat of more pain was a powerful motivator, it was that inferno between her legs that broke her. Mikasa needed to be taken care of, and she needed it a long time ago. With her legs wide apart like this, she couldn’t even rub her thighs together, she couldn’t do anything without Eren’s approval, and he wouldn’t give it to her until she said the truth. There was no other way out of this torment, he had her trapped.

“I just… I just want the other girls at the agency to see you too.”, she confessed through the tears, “The magazine is popular, the other models will read that article, they will know…”

She couldn’t look at him, admitting her reasons to the wall instead, unable to face Eren’s inquisitive gaze.

“I wa-…” she choked back a sob, “I just want them to know how insanely hot my fiancé is. I want to boast for once, god damn it!”

He sighed behind her. So this was the whole secret, the absurdity making him smirk a little bit.

“Miki, look at me.”

Mikasa did so, and her face, so ruined by tears, spit and cum, that was heartbreaking to watch

“And why didn’t you say it sooner?”, shaking his head, Eren let out a disbelieving laugh, “What’s wrong with that reason?”

“You don’t think it’s stupid?”

“Stupid? No! I did the same thing with you, don’t you remember? Back when Onya had those dumb comments about me being in a long-term relationship.”

Satisfied with her answer, Eren knew that this is the truth, this was the real reason for her eagerness. Shaking his head, Eren dropped the cane, running a loving hand over Mikasa’s beaten and bruised bottom.

“Do you still want me to fuck you?”, he whispered into her ear, “Or does it hurt too much?”

The suffering would surely be too strong if Mikasa wasn’t into it. Luckily, she was just as masochistic as her lovely partner, the pain twisting into pleasure in those dark corners of her body.

“I’m fine.”, she said, “Fuck me. And don’t hold back.”

Eren quickly dropped a hand between her legs, not wanting to make her wait anymore. Spreading her folds open, he slowly guided himself in, making Mikasa moan in pleasure. Finally. She was dripping, there was no need for foreplay, so Eren began pumping into her right away, short grunts ghosting against her neck. Her pussy was so perfect, it was hard to believe it wasn’t made specifically for him. They just fit so well together.

“You’re so fucking tight kitten,” he growled into her ear, “So hot and wet and silky, I could spend an eternity fucking you and I would still want more.”

Flesh slapping against flesh, the contact still sent flares of pain up from Mikasa’s backside, but it was nothing compared to the feeling of finally being filled, stretched to her limits by his girth. Bracing herself against the wall, she panted hard, feeling her insides contract and her toes curl against the floor. Being taken from behind did rob her of the sight of him, she couldn’t watch that beautiful dance of muscle on Eren’s body that was taking place when he fucked her, but it allowed him to reach those depths inside her, rub the head of his cock against those places that made her see stars. It made her hips snap back into his, buck in time with his thrusts, meeting him halfway. His hand wasn’t idle either, playing with her clit, rubbing her in tiny circles, determined to make her cum as hard as possible. Close, she was so close, and Eren took notice. Fingers speeding up, he toyed with that magic nub while steadily thrusting into her velvety heat, that combination so heavenly that it made her scream when the coil finally snapped. Her pussy clenching wildly around his length, her vision going white, Mikasa fell back into Eren, head on his shoulder, unable to hold herself up anymore. High on her climax, she let out a cute giggle that bubbled out of her chest, closing her eyes to savor the feeling to the fullest. Cunt clenching around his length, Eren knew that she was on her high, and worked to extend it for her as much as he could. Burying his face into her neck, muffling his groans by biting into her skin, creating another of those hickeys she would curse him for in the morning, Eren kept his tempo up. It didn’t stop him that he had to hold her weight up, it didn’t stop him that she didn’t help him anymore, lost in the stream of pleasure, nothing would stop him once Eren was determined. It was hard to keep himself from exploding inside her, when her inner muscles milked him, spasming around his cock, begging him for release. Yet Eren was determined to please his dark princess, to give her all the pleasure in the world.

The proof of Mikasa’s climax was running down her inner thighs, that heavenly feel prolonged by Eren’s fingers working her clit, doing those exact little circles that she enjoyed the most. It was a bit embarrassing when he asked her to show him how she touches herself, what she enjoys the most, but it was so incredibly worth it. It was slowly getting too much, the pleasure was not stopping. Bonelessly sagging into his embrace, Mikasa was just leaning on his body, head lolling back on his shoulder, panting for air while he kept moving inside of her, tireless. Her body felt like jelly at this point, thoroughly satisfied and fucked, unable to hold her thoughts together anymore. Seeing it, seeing how done she was and knowing that it was his doing, that it was his body that was able to make her lose it like this, that was enough to break Eren’s concentration. He cursed against her skin as he came too, his release mixing with hers, creating quite a mess between her thighs.

When Mikasa came back to reality, they were sitting on the floor together, as Eren’s legs probably gave way too, hunched into one sweaty, dirty bundle of bodies. Now that her hormones have calmed, she realized how incredibly filthy she is. There was cum on her face, her breasts, between her legs and on her inner thighs, everywhere. She needed a shower. Now. Eren thought so too because when he took notice of the life returning to her eyes from wherever heaven the strong orgasm sent it to, his first words were quite simple.

“Let’s get cleaned up.”

And Mikasa couldn’t agree more.

It was after that much-needed shower and after Eren gently rubbed soothing cream into her aching ass that Mikasa reviewed the fruits of their labor. She was lying down on the couch, on her front to avoid putting any pressure on her butt, scrolling through the photos. They were just as good as she remembered. Eren looked hot as fuck in the first one, the second one showed off both his tattoo and that nice shape of his ass, and the third one…. Despite just being thoroughly fucked, Mikasa had to bite her bottom lip. The third one was something else. The slight hint of the bulge, the submissive angle from below, that emerald fire in his eyes. Look, maybe the photoshoot wasn’t exactly professional, as models are not supposed to fuck the director’s brains out right after, as far as she knew, but who cared about such a formality. The third photo was incredible, and she couldn’t wait to send it to the magazine. The victory was theirs.

“Miki?”

She hummed, letting Eren know that she’s listening.

“I kind of forgot to tell you, but I met someone at Zackly’s shop.”

Oh, a meeting in the sex shop? This should be spicy. Putting down the camera for a second, she gave Eren her full attention.

“Do go on.”

“Ymir and Krista. And before you ask, yes, they recognized me.”

“Oh well, that sucks, but what can we do. “, Mikasa shrugged, “It’s the twenty-first century, it’s not like we are doing anything illegal.”

“I know, that’s not the point.”, he smirked at her, “In fact, they were there to start their own adventure.”

“Really….”

Mikasa could imagine Ymir being into some BDSM, but Krista? She was always so quiet and calm… Then again, Mikasa was also very quiet in public, and look at her now. Forced to lie on her front because her fiancé caned her ass so hard. Looks can be deceiving.

“Long story short, they asked me to come over someday, give them some pointers, maybe tell them some of the stuff we did.”, Eren continued, “And since you play a major part in those stories, I have to ask, would that be okay with you?”

Well, it was bound to make the next meeting a bit more awkward, but to hell with that. If Ymir and Krista wanted in on the fun, Mikasa would be the last person to hinder them in any way.

“Go for it.”, she nodded at her boyfriend, “I’m sure that they will appreciate it.”

Especially Ymir, Mikasa imagined. Getting his answer, Eren moved back into the kitchen where he was preparing their dinner and she was left alone to go back to the photos, once again looking them over. And the more she stared at them, the surer she was. This competition was won. And the other models over at Kiyomi’s agency would find out a thing or two about that usually quiet and stoic Asian girl.  

[thegempage]

[image description: a digital painting of a line up of five men. The first on the left is a thing young man wearing formal clothes and an eyepatch with fluffy hair; he’s smiling and waving. He is rendered almost entire in monochrome except for a single stripe that reveals that he has ginger hair and freckles and that there is a pink heart on his eyepatch. Next to him is an older man with broad shoulders in a suit who has short dark hair and a beard who has his arms crossed but is looking at the former man affectionately. He is also in monochrome, with a stripe of color revealing that he has salt and pepper hair. Next right is a much shorter man with pale skin and light brown hair in baggy, dirty clothes and rectangular glasses; he has brown/green heterochromia and is wearing a tinfoil hat and holding a microphone and headphones; he looks suspicious of the people around him. Next to him is a tall, thin man wearing a priest’s outfit and platform boots with short, scraggly blond hair. He looks angry, has a crown of thorns, has scars on his hands, and is holding a knife and gun. The final man is the shortest and is wearing baggy, dark, and paint-stained clothes and has long brown hair tied in a bun on the back of his head. He has a large bag slung over one shoulder with paint stains and is clutching a painting to his chest, looking nervous.

The second image is the two monochrome men, the third the man with heterochromia and the man with the gun, and the final is the artist. Height lights have been drawn above all of their heads, showing their relation to each other. Tallest to shortest is the gunman (with and without boots), the older monochrome man, the younger monochrome man, the man with heterochromia, and then the artist. end description]

2:20 a.m.? fuck it post art preview time (also you should probably look at these at full size if that’s possible)

left to right, they are: smith, chief, clairvoyance/clair, christian, bart

there’s still like, five characters??? i want to do??? but i haven’t been streaming recently so have the boys that i have done for now and go listen to tales from riftdale (or come talk to me and i’ll give you a Content Tour lol). these also aren’t Final Final, i need to go over christian’s scars again and i might change a detail about clair’s glasses

and just bcus i’m waiting for some laundry to finish i’m gonna do a Rundown of some of what was going through my head and my hcs under the cut!!

going by the order in the main pic:

- smith!! admittedly i might go back and make him taller but i just like the idea that all of them are tall (except bart and clair) so he just Looks shorter lol. he’s ginger bcus i think i got attached to that hc ages ago and just never let go lol. also whoever came up with the idea of him having a heart on his eyepatch is the smartest person alive

- chief has near-permanent dark circles and a scowl 95% of the time but he got to have this One smile bcus i imagined he and smith are talking to each other in this weird line-up space. i Almost drew him with a flask but i think it’s safe to assume he has a gun and flask at any given time and also guns are hard to draw lmao. his nose is also purposefully a little crooked bcus i feel like he’d have broken his nose once or twice

- i love long haired clair. i don’t even remember when i started drawing him with long hair but it just looks nice on him!! even if he occasionally cuts off weird chunks and leaves it kind of uneven!! i also drew him with his hair over his shoulder to show off the length, he didn’t cut off that half of his hair jlkfdsa. i gave him moles bcus i don’t see many characters with moles and i thought he’d look cute with them and you know what?? i was right! the pocket i Absolutely drew on a whim but inside are some notes on the Eye and re: the eye, in a convo lux and tyr brought around the idea of clair with red glasses so i drew those in after i took these screenshots lol

- christian i drew with the phrase “this man is a human stick” in my head so that’s why he’s all sharp and long lmao. the knife is traced from an image i found on google and the gun i traced from a screenshot from the video where ben was talking about the gun he Wanted to use for the og “To Kill” scene bcus i can draw neither guns nor knives and it was late at night. i Can’t remember what his scars look like so i drew what i remembered and figured i’d go back and change them later fkjldsa tho the crown actually has blood on it!  it’s messy and hard to see but it’s there!! and his hair is supposed to be bleach-damaged bcus i imagine he both has an image to maintain and used to dye his hair constantly when he moved around to make some attempt at blending in or not blending in. you can see some of his natural dark blond on the sides and his eyebrows!

- look at bart. look at him! he is just doing his best! he deserves more than he gets!! which is why this time i gave him shoes lmao. they don’t match, he’s got two different kinds of scavenged converse on and they were never the same color but they’re now both many different colors but that’s better than before, where i just decided he paints his feet purple and calls it a day. The blood on his bag and shoes is faint bcus i couldn’t remember how much Being Christian’s Hostage he went through but i’ll probably add more blood later. his hair’s also in a bun!! i had to google “man bun” to find ideas. also his bag is stained bcus he keeps accidentally tipping watercolor pallets into it (and got splashed with blood a few times)

[dashielldeveron]

Viper VI: Suppressio Veri

Summary: Reality continues to ruin your life. This jackassery will not stand.

Warnings: violence, swears, the law. Severe injury.

Ding.

You reached towards your holster and silenced your phone. “I’m here to see Judge Le,” you said, sliding the papers across the check-in counter. “She’s expecting me.”

The receptionist hardly glanced at you. “Have you visited her before?”

“Yes. She’s on the third floor. Room 310. I’m dropping off gifts from her co-workers,” you said, shifting your bag up your shoulder.

Ding.

“She should be awake by now. I doubt you’ll get much conversation out of her, though; she only just got out of her second surgery this morning.”

“I don’t mind,” you said, “and I won’t be long. I’ll just be glad to see her again.”

“Go on, then,” she said, “Elevator’s broken. Take the stairs.”

You nodded and strode in their direction—not directly, though, because Judge Le wasn’t your only target this time at the hospital. You were doing a run checking up on the doctors and admins who took care of members of the mob and kept it under wraps. A thank you, if you will. Judge Le was going to be the recipient of direct evidence you were going to deliver regarding an upcoming trial—and you’d had time between the Davey’s run and physically seeing Ms. Pham today, so you’d picked up more biscotti than usual for the doctors. Security and common courtesy, really.

Ding.

And Tom wouldn’t stop fucking texting you, yet he wasn’t quite saying anything. You unlocked your phone.

Tom: You’re late. I thought I told you I wanted you in my office at 9:00 sharp?

Tom: Where are you?

Tom: I want you now.

Stopping in your tracks, you (with a rather dry throat) twiddled your thumbs uselessly over the keys before typing out a response.

You: Chill. I’m at Central Hospital. What do you need?

You stowed your phone away, determined to make him wait, and you swung open the door to the stairs. The doctors’ break room was on the second floor, so you’d run by that first. You counted five stairs before checking your notifications.

Tom: You. In person.

You: What do you need me to check out?

Tom: Give me a second, and I’ll show you.

Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Second floor door, here we are.

Ding.

Does he not have anything else to do? He actually had a meeting scheduled at 9:00 this morning, so that was why you weren’t there. Tom should be meeting with the D’Aleo underboss, but he apparently wasn’t, if he had the time to text you back. You opened his message, and your heel curled in, making you stumble.

Tom: Don’t be gentle with me.

[image attached]

Tom had sent you a picture of another polaroid, this one of you and Tom exiting the sewer, both grimy as all get out. However, he had taken a picture of it lying flat on the edge of his desk, and the bottom third of it showed his clenched left fist resting on his upper thigh, his pants so tight that you could make out the hem of his tucked-in shirt through them, and his belt pulled snugly around his hips with the end unlooped, probably intentionally loosely curled around half of his cock—the view you would have if you were resting your chin on his shoulder and looked down.

You leant against the wall outside the break room and held your phone to your chest. Fuck. Fffffuck. This manipulation, this—charming—of you. 1) He didn’t know you knew about it. 2) What exactly did he want? You didn’t have any ulterior motives.

3) You wanted it. Oh, God, did you want it. 4) But you wanted Tom to treat you like this out of genuine feelings, not to get something out of you. So, 5) you couldn’t exactly respond well, because you’d be doing exactly what he wanted you to, except 5a) you didn’t haven any information he wanted [5b) except where you lived, your social security, etc.].

6) You were a little insulted that he thought he could charm you through basic shit like hot dominance and a pic of his lap. 7) You hated that it was working.

So, 8) how do you handle this?

Mulling it over, you allowed yourself to leave the letters to the doctors on payroll and to arrange the biscotti (traditional, lemon wedding, and chocolate almond) and crumiri in the doctors’ lounge before you responded.

You: Am I supposed to be impressed? I can’t make that out for shit.

Tom: Come back to Osseous to get a better look.

You: I’m busy, Holland.

Tom: Oh, yeah? With what?

You snapped a picture of the biscotti, pausing to bite out of a crumiri, and held it up in front of the rest.

You: Want a bite?

You moved to stow away your phone, but he responded immediately.

Tom: More than one.

Time to stop. Time to fucking stop. Shoving the crumiri into your mouth, you left the doctors’ lounge, fuming. You had made it halfway back to the stairs before he sent you another text, and you scowled, stopping in front of an open hospital room and tapping your heel with aggression.

Tom: It’s time to stop fucking around and come home, V.

Your fingernails tapped against the screen as you tried to figure out what to say, and from the open hospital room, you heard a weak voice call your name—your real fucking name.

Hand on your knife, you treaded lightly into the hospital room, completely void of personal effects, where on the bed lay a body heavily shrunken by severe burns. Months ago, you would have winced and shied away, but now, you merely grew closer towards the red and white flesh, twisted, scarred, and barely healing—second and fucking third degree, oh, my God, primarily around the upper body, and disfiguring almost to the point of non-recognition the face of—oh, gross.

Your old boss, Polson, scowled at you from his hospital bed and pressed a button so that it tilted into a sitting position. Tendons around the bones in his hand quivered when he did, and he let out a deep breath, like the action had been too much for him. “If it isn’t the bitch who left my firm without even a two-week notice. What do you want?”

If that’s how it’s going to be. “What happened to you, Mr. Polson?”

“You weren’t hard to replace. There are thousands of desperate receptionists out in New York, but it pissed me off to go through the hiring process again,” he said, “Got someone who doesn’t complain, though.”

You crossed your arms. “That poor woman. Why are you in the hospital?”

“I bet you’re making your new boss’s life a living hell, right? Unless you’re working for yourself now, which would make sense why I haven’t heard a damn thing about you.”

Ding.

Polson glared at your hip, and you silenced your phone again. “My new boss can be demanding.”

“Is that him?”

“It’s none of your business.”

“You bothered to sleep with him, right?”

“Mr. Polson,” you said, “You, of all people, should know that I will never compromise professionalism and justice for the sake of my own personal advancement or enjoyment, and I will never use anything other than my brain to move forward. With all due respect, sir—” Shit, you shouldn’t’ve called him that; old habits, you guessed. “—I’d like to move on to why you’re lying in a pathetic, empty hospital room, looking like you’ve been frying in bacon grease for the past four hours. Care to elaborate?”

Polson shifted in his bed and tugged his sheets farther up his chest. “Someone lit my house on fire. I was sleeping. Didn’t realise until it reached my bed.” He licked his lips and the burnt skin surrounding them.

Ding.

“How do you know it was arson? You could’ve left your stupid gas stove on—”

“Roscoe’s and Jennings’s apartments burnt down this past two weeks, too,” said Polson, “Or are you too big and important nowadays to remembers your co-workers?”

No, you remembered. Roscoe worked with child custody cases, and Jennings was Polson’s co. Jennings liked talking about superhero movies with you, and Roscoe was the first one to show you the town when you moved here. Roscoe was the one who had helped you move into your own apartment, along with another co-worker, Harriet, who lived below you. “Someone’s…targeting members of your staff? You don’t think they’re accidents?”

Ding.

“Firefighters say all the fires started at the front door,” said Polson, “and whenever I get my hands on whoever did this fucking shit—” He made a choking motion, his hand shaking with tension. “We’re all staying at a hotel until we can find new places, but you know how the market is.”

Ding.

Nodding, you moved to leave, but you, with doubt and pity, backtracked to give Polson a pack of leftover biscotti. He wouldn’t look at you.

Tom: You do as you’re told, understand?

Tom: If you don’t get your ass to Osseous within the next thirty minutes, you’re on sentry duty in Brooklyn for a month.

Tom: I don’t care about traffic. The deadline stands. Come here.

Tom: I get it. You’re ignoring me because of how much of a hardass I’m being, yeah? Well. Show me you can follow orders, and I’ll be a lot kinder.

You: Say please.

***

Tom wasn’t in his office, even though his schedule said he’d be there, so you took the elevator to the lower floors and checked them, culminating with your coming to a halt when you stepped into a conference room permeated with smoke and sweat. You wiped your nose with the back of your hand.

“Viper,” came Tom’s voice through the haze, “Good of you to finally show up.” He must be at the head of the conference table, judging from the direction of his voice; how many others were present? Motion, motion—from both sides, multiple pairs of hands, cigars, cufflinks—the suits. Funding. They weren’t supposed to be here until tonight (that meant there were six of them, because Taylor cancelled). You rubbed the fog off your watch—they were hours early, and you were late for Ms. Pham.

You got out your phone to text her that you’d run into a snag, but Tom’s voice came through the smoke, sharper this time. “Ah, ah, Viper, put that thing away. You don’t need it here.”

You glanced at Tom, his figure becoming clearer as he waved the fog away. “Try to stop me.”

The air thinned as the suits fell silent. “Is that a challenge?” Tom asked coldly, snuffing out his cigar in the ashtray. “You’ve always had a mouth on you—and I can think of a few ways to shut you up.”

Laughter from the suits. One of them (Cristo, from the files) grabbed your hand and jerked you towards him, one of your hips pressed against his shoulder. “A girl like you shouldn’t be so disobedient,” he said—and when he tried to nuzzle his nose against your hip, you flinched out of his grip and struck the back of his head.

“Don’t infantilise me,” you said, brows downturned and heat rushing to your face, “A girl is a child, punk. That’s not me. And I’m not here for you to touch.”

When another suit reached for your hand, Tom said, “Enough.” He was staring you down, his eyes not quite angry, but you couldn’t label what it was exactly. He beckoned you with two fingers, his golden watch slipping down his wrist and into his shirtsleeve.

Tom yanked you down to his level (his hand was warm from holding the cigar) and said into your ear, spit flicking onto you from the harsh consonants. “Listen. I can’t have these people all over you, and these morons are old-fashioned. If they see a woman dominate me, they’re not gonna back me anymore.”

“Don’t you trust me?” you said under your breath.

“You’re not the one I don’t trust,” said Tom, and he licked his lips, the tip of his tongue grazing the shell of your ear. “You know I’m on your side, right? You’ve got to do this for me.”

Hell to the fucking no. If Tom thinks you’re going to sacrifice your dignity and reputation that you’ve built over the past year, then he’s got to—

“Please.”

Oh. Oh, no. Oh, God. Oh, fuck. You held your breath for a moment, and then you said aloud, shrinking away from him, “Yes, sir.”

“That’s what I thought,” said Tom loudly, shoving your hand away, “If you think that was bad, just wait and see what I’m gonna do to you once I get you alone. Go wait in my office for me.”

“Yes, sir,” you said, nodding once, and you skirted out of the room, a final laugh from a suit erupting before you shut the door.

What now? You guess…you guessed you go wait in his office.

Once there and mindlessly assigning via email capos territory scouting overnight, you had time to think. That whole interaction was weird as hell. Who were these guys Tom was keen on keeping an image with? They weren’t anyone extraordinary. Just businessmen. Yeah, there were loads of people you had to work with in this business who didn’t treat people right, let alone women, whom they didn’t consider to be people—it was like they were straight out of Tolstoy’s The Kreutzer Sonata: misogynistic, violent men apt to jump to conclusions about deception and sex.

Was this a sex thing? Were they under the impression Tom was fucking you? (You shook yourself; the bluntness of that thought shocked you. Sleeping with. Under the impression Tom was sleeping with you.) You supposed that most of them would think that a don would only be keeping a woman around for sex, but as Viper, you were clearly Not the Mistress. So, why now?

Tom had better have a hell of an explanation.

And then seeing Polson again, all burnt and pathetic, made your stomach lurch. That man—you didn’t want to say that anyone deserved to burn, but Polson made you want to bend what you usually thought. The burns, it seemed, calmed him the fuck down and made him a lot nicer, but his nice was still not how you deserve to be spoken to. You didn’t like having a part of your old life resurface. Hearing your real name said aloud made your heart palpitate. Polson still didn’t respect you and called you a bitch first off, so why did you give him…? He didn’t deserve that. Polson’s a jerk. He shouldn’t…whatever.

You started typing a reply to Haz’s email. Told him that it’s taken care of. That the men killed off today would disappear legally. That you’ve got it under control.

Three fires connected to your former co-workers. Should you be concerned? You’d check the files on arsonists later, yeah, when all of this was over. See who’s out and about. You’ve already got one pattern, but maybe there’s another.

Hours ticked by. Fucking hours. At least there wouldn’t be much plant recording to listen to tonight. You advised a group of soldiers and their leading capo about their boundary crossing mission tonight (“Take the train; although the tickets mark your presence physically, fewer people are likely to be watching underground.”) and dug out the arsonist files. No one with a pattern had been released from prison in the past two years.

You jumped when your phone rang, but thank God; it was only Zendaya talking about a series of screeching noises coming from the sewers in the heights, and she just wanted to report it to you. She also made sure you logged Harrison’s latest injury that he hadn’t written on the last write-up (his ankles are going to be fucked up when he’s older). You thanked her.

When the clock hit 5:00, you stopped doing mob work and moved onto an Epiales article. You were ahead of your deadlines by three weeks, now, so you didn’t really concentrate too hard. You wrote half of another article and decided to check that fake-o’s twitter account. The past few days had been strangely apolitical.

Epiales (@Epiales): Pasărea în văzduh.

[image]

Epiales (@Epiales): L'Oiseau dans l'espace.

[image]

Epiales (@Epiales): Bird in Space.

[image]

Each image was a new angle of Bird in Space. You’d never heard of it. Apparently, it was a marble and bronze series of sculptures by Constatin Brâncuși, but only the bronze ones had been posted. But it was, like, parts of the bird instead of the whole thing, mostly looking like single feathers on stands. The captions had been the title in Romanian, French, and then English. The sculptures themselves were actually in the city, housed at the Met and MOMA.

What the fuck.

Epiales (@Epiales): A night in. The world out.

[image]

This picture was, strangely, a normal Instagram-type picture of someone’s (a liar’s) coffee table, with an open wine bottle, a glass, and—oh, how fucking clever—a copy of Catch Me If You Can propped up against four corks. Dumbass. You wrote a note to review the plot. Maybe this identity thief is also into forgery? Maybe that’s a stretch.

Four corks, one bottle. Why…why the fuck would that be featured? Are other bottles off-screen? Oh, there’s an update.

Epiales (@Epiales): Just heard from Central Hospital. James Polson has passed away. Tragic. Burns that severe can often turn deadly.

Your stomach plummeted.

That’s…that’s a little too personal for your tastes. A little too close. You locked your phone and tucked it between the cushion and the arm of the chair, and you brought your knees to your chest, wrapping your arms around them.

Your identity thief was the arsonist, wasn’t he?

Shit.

Fucking fuck, did that mean he knew your real name and who you were? He hadn’t known when he wrote that note for you and Tom to retrieve Isadora (you felt a pang in your chest at the thought of her), but, you guessed, you’re not perfect. You could have slipped somewhere, and he could have found you out. But when? You’d been scrupulous. If you fucked up somewhere, it had to be minor, something so small that you wouldn’t notice it. Who the fuck are you dealing with? God. Where’s your panic medicine? You felt a panic attack coming on.

It’s at the bottom of your bag, baby. Just dig through your shit—that’s right, under your laptop, your flash drive pocket, wallet—you’re doing so well, honey; that’s it—where’s the damn pill bo—

“Oh, thank fuck, Viper. You’re still here,” Tom said as the door slammed open into the wall, shaking the nearby frame, “I thought you might leave after I treated you like that.” C’mon, unscrew the cap slowly; nothing’s wrong. Nothing’s wrong. Is there a liquid besides liquor in here?

“But I have to say, you did all right. They licked it up, so the rest of it went well.”

Guess you’ll have to dry swallow them. Fuck, you could never get used to the scratching of the pill capsules as you choked them down your throat.

Tom raised an eyebrow when you threw back the pills. “Need anything?”

You swallowed again, but your throat was too dry. Focus on your breathing, honey. You can’t hyperventilate now.

“The fuck’s wrong with—?”

You gasped and cleared your throat. “Fuck all the way off, Holland.”

Tom’s face snapped into a grimace with hard, cold eyes, and he reached behind himself to lock the door. “You can’t talk to me like that.”

“You,” you said, tossing the bottle back into your bag, “You can’t fucking behave around me like you did down there. I don’t deserve that.”

“Then what do you deserve?” He crossed his arms and leant with most of his weight on the door.

“I don’t have to justify myself to you. I don’t have to explain anything,” you said, and you closed your laptop and slid it into its case, “I have the right to say no. I’m not your dog. But I’m still human, in case you haven’t fucking noticed.” You looped your portfolio closed and slid everything into your rucksack. “And I will not stand for the way you’ve been treating me.”

Tom scoffed. “I’ve been more than kind.”

“Not—not really.” You slung your rucksack over your shoulder. “You’re trying to manipulate me into something. The way you’ve been talking—all this, the inflections, the innuendo—I don’t want it if it’s not real.”

Tom moved away from the door as you approached it, his arms still crossed but his gaze on his shoes.

“You think I can’t spot a change in behaviour?” You think I don’t have a listening device in your cactus? “Think again, bucko. I’m not gonna tolerate maltreatment, jackassery, or anything I don’t deserve.” You gripped the doorknob and turned it, but you didn’t pull it forward. “I cordially invite you to braid your rectum, since you’ll need something vaguely aesthetically interesting to draw attention while you’ve got your head up your ass.”

You paused to swallow again, and Tom took the opportunity to ask quietly, “Are you gonna be in for work tomorrow?”

Rubbing your eye, you took a deep breath and a moment. “Yeah,” you said, “I’ll be in. Just don’t talk to me until after lunch.”

Tom nodded once, and you eased the door shut behind you.

***

You took a taxi home; you couldn’t bear the subway tonight. You just couldn’t. You leant your forehead against the cold glass and ignored the cabbie’s attempts at conversation, your eyes fluttering shut (the city lights still flashed through your eyelids).

At least you still had your job.

Well, it’s not like he could get rid of you at this point, anyway.

Whatever. It was all so fucking exhausting. If Tom were completely honest with you, that would take a load off of your shoulders. You don’t need near-gaslighting anywhere in your life right now; you needed someone in your corner. You supposed that was part of why you were exhausted: you didn’t have a local support system for your mental health. Sure, you had Dr. Prine on speed dial, but she was miles and miles away; Grace at the women’s centre needed more help than you did, and Ms. Pham didn’t seem to have feelings. Zendaya was cool, but you didn’t exactly know the nature of her relationship with Harrison and whether or not you could talk to her honestly without her relaying some of the information back to Haz or Tom.

Haz? Forget it.

Tom, though, he really screwed with your mind. You hated it. You could see the potential in him to be your main confidante, if only he would do the same with you (You were on a level of that already, but somehow, even though you had a lot of his dirt, it was like it wasn’t personal to him, like it held no weight. Dumbass). Tom must relax around Haz, right? They were friends before the mob, so there’s got to be some sense of genuine comradery about him, right?

He can’t be all bad. He’s got a dog, and pretty much everyone speaks to a dog in a high pitched voice.

You brought your knees to your chest, your heels on the edge of the torn leather, and you scrunched your eyes shut more tightly—the lights were getting brighter and harder to ignore; you dipped your head between your knees.

The cab driver gave a low whistle. “Holy motherfucking shit,” he said, and you dragged yourself up to look out—as he came to a stop.

No. No, it couldn’t—fucking fu—your apartment building was on fire. The flames blazed from a corner room on the third story and licking up towards yours—your own damn apartment. The worst of it was coming from the…the apartment right below yours. Harriet.

Paying the cabbie took way too fucking long, and you grabbed your bag and immediately dumped them on the sidewalk; where was Harriet? Moreover, where was your fucking cat?

You were turned away from the entrance. You manoeuvred your way through other tenets, calling for Trout, skinning your knees when your dropped to the pavement to scan the bushes for her, and by the time you found Harriet, your face was all red and blotchy, and the front of your shirt was soaked.

“Oh, my God. It’s good to see you safe,” said Harriet, gripping your shoulders and also crying, “I just got off the phone with my mom, and. And I don’t know what to do. The fire department said they’d be here soon, but it’s fucking five o’clock traffic, and—”

“Have you—” You hiccupped. “Have you seen a cat?”

Harriet shook her head. “Want me to help?”

Harriet looked so sincere and willing, with her wide eyes and strong voice, even with her hair already in its bonnet for the night. Harriet had always been kind when you’d worked with her; she’d always been—so why wasn’t she already in your corner? Why had you shuffled her off for the most part?

You looked her in the eyes and then back up at the burning building, your life flaking away in wallpaper ashes. Her life, too. “No,” you said, “You have enough on your mind right now. It looks like the fire started in your apartment, anyway, so there’s got to be a lot of damage you’re gonna have to deal with.”

Harriet nodded. “How’d you know it started in mine?”

“I—” You closed your mouth and frowned. “I didn’t. Did—did you leave the oven on, or?”

“I was downstairs in the laundry room facetiming Roscoe,” she said, “We started dating since you left, by the way. I was down there forever, but I can’t remember if I left anything on or any incense burning or anything.”

“Uh-huh,” you said, snapping your head in the direction of low movement, but it wasn’t Trout. “Have you heard about Polson yet?”

“Polson?” Harriet crossed her arms, her phone in her armpit. “No, why?”

“I’ll tell you later. You still have my number, right? I—you should find the landlord, talk to him about this. Ask him about renters’ insurance. I’ve got to—I’m gonna keep looking for my cat.”

“You do that,” she said, “I’ll check up on you in a few hours, all right?”

“Yeah,” you said, “Thank you.”

She walked off towards the admins, and you stood frozen for a minute, your eyes glazed over, until a spark flitted down to your arm. You flinched and swatted at it, your gaze falling to a smoking leaf at your feet.

You’re really going to do this, aren’t you?

Backtracking to your bag on the sidewalk, you found your found and found his contact with shaky thumbs. It rang once.

“Viper?” His background was silent.

“Tom?” You forced your jaw to stop quivering. He can’t hear your fear.

“It’s me,” he said, and his voice sounded more urgent. “What’s wrong? What do you need?”

Fuck it. “You. I need you,” you said, your eyes watering again, “Are you that far out in your commute? I need you to come to—to my apartment. It’s on fi—fire, Tom.”

You heard him slap the leather of his chauffer’s seat, a familiar gesture for him to pay attention. “Address, now.”

“I don’t want to inconvenience you if you’re that far out—”

“Address.”

You gave it to him, and he cursed with his mouth away from the speaker before barking it to his driver. “I’ll be there as soon as I possibly can, okay? I want you to stay there. Can you do that for me, V?”

You nodded, remembered he couldn’t see you, and said, “Yes. I’ve, uh. Thank you. Thanks, Tom.”

“Stay there. I won’t be long.”

“Okay. I’ve got to keep looking for my cat, so, um, I’ll be close. See you in a bit.”

“See you.”

You hung up and wiped your eyes. What’s done is done.

You were searching the bushes on your hands and knees when his car pulled up and parked behind the firefighters. When he tapped your back, you jolted and gave a shout, but you recovered slightly and shifted back to sit on your knees.

“Hey,” said Tom, crouching next to you, his tie still tight around his neck.

“Hey,” you said, “Her name is Trout, if you don’t remember, and she’s beautiful and stubborn, and I love her, and I can’t find her.”

“Is she in the building?”

“They wouldn’t let me inside to look.”

“If we don’t find her, someone else will. Does she have a collar?”

“Why would a cat whose entire world is a two-room apartment have a collar? No, I mean,” you said, rubbing your nose with the back of your hand, “She doesn’t.”

“Hey, that snark,” said Tom, “That’s how I know you’re gonna be okay. You haven’t lost it. We’re gonna find her before we leave.”

He let you cry in peace while the two of you searched, sirens and the water hoses too loud for further conversation, anyway. He couldn’t even hear your sob of relief when you discovered Trout licking drops from a hose faucet on the opposite side of the building, and you scooped her up and kissed her little forehead.

Tom scratched her neck before directing you towards his car, jogging back to your bag himself. But you stood outside his car, staring at your reflection in the window. Part of the building groaned and collapsed behind you, thousands of sparks flying upwards.

Your mind blanked.

That was your whole fucking life.

Crumbling to the ground.

Holy shit.

Where do you go from here?

You supposed the answer literally was the closest hotel, which was that stupid Holiday Inn, but it probably didn’t allow pets, so you’d have to go farther, which means a higher fare for the taxi, but now you need to conserve as much money as possibly to find a new place, and since Polson couldn’t even find one, then you were probably sunk, which meant—

“Were you waiting for me to open the door for you, darlin’?” Tom jogged to his car and opened the door to the backseat. “Go ahead and get in. It’s gonna be okay, I swear.”

Staring at him for a beat, you stiffly climbed into the back and released Trout once Tom had thrown in your bag and slammed the door shut behind him. Trout was freaked out by the sudden movement of the car, but once it became constant (or as near constant as it could get in New York traffic), she began exploring the car, starting with burrowing under the driver’s seat.

You wanted to touch him. If there were ever a time for it, it was now, when you were weak and gross and now possibly destitute. He’s seen you cry, now, so it’s like he’s seen too much of you. No one ever sees you cry, and you just wanted for once to have physical comfort from someone? You’ve never had someone there for that sort of thing, and damn it, you wanted Tom to hold you.

His suit’s wet and dirty, and he’s stuffed his tie into a pocket. He tapped his fingers on the leather seat between you as he scrunched his face up, lost in thought. Tom glanced at you, and his face softened, his eyes flickering from your blotchy face to your trembling hands. “All right, you’ve made deductions. Tell me what you think.”

“I don’t—” Deep breath. “I’m unsure I can talk right now.” What to say except Hold my hand, bitch?

“V, I swear, when you wake up tomorrow, you’re gonna be all numb. You’re gonna try to distance yourself from reality. I know you will. So, please,” said Tom for the second time that day, “Tell me what’s going on in that whirling brain of yours.”

You ran your tongue over your lower lip. “Is there any water in here? I haven’t—thanks,” you said, accepting the water bottle when Tom pulled it out from under his seat, “I haven’t ingested anything since this morning. I’m running on empty.”

“Bet you are. Take your time,” he said, leaning on his elbow against the window, “There’s no rush. We’ve got a bit of a drive.”

Nodding, you watched Trout loaf on the seat between the two of you. She let out a low meow.

You placed a hand on her back and scratched her lightly. “I really was angry at you this afternoon. How you spoke to me. How you made me wait.”

You paused to take a sip from the bottle, and Tom simply watched you, his gaze slipping to your neck when you swallowed. “But other stuff happened today that’ve put me on edge. I’m, uh, I’m not doing too hot right now.” Really, now? “I went to the hospital earlier, and you were texting me all those—strange things, which were already unnerving me. But then I ran into my old boss. From the law firm. He said some pretty awful things to me. Reprehensible, really.”

“I’m gonna fucking murder him,” said Tom, shifting in his seat.

You reached out a hand to his shoulder and pushed him back down, letting your touch linger (although there was still ash on his jacket). “He’s already dead.”

His lips parted. “What?”

“Polson was in the hospital for burns. Someone had burnt his house down. Told me it happened to some of my old co-workers, too.”

Licking his lips, Tom said, “Then your apartment building was arson. They knew about you.”

“I don’t think so,” you said, working through it yourself, “One of my co-workers lived beneath me. She’d recommended the building to me in the first place when I moved here, and although there’s not an official report yet, I’m pretty sure it started in her place. I’m not certain, though; I’m judging by the fact that her apartment was completely doused in flames and that fire climbs. It hadn’t engulfed mine entirely yet.”

Tom folded his arms and unbuckled; he turned to face you and crossed his leg over the other at the ankle. “You said Polson was dead.”

Sighing, you picked up Trout and put her in your lap. She did not want to settle. “I was doing research while I waited in your office. I ended up on that fake Epiales’s twitter account, and he announced it. Whoever the fake Epiales is is probably behind the arson, too. Targeting Polson’s employees, for some reason. I don’t know; I haven’t thought about it too hard yet. It was too personal for me, uh, to handle.”

“How do you know that?” Tom said, leaning in, “How do you know they’re the same? How do you even know that Epiales is fake, anyway?”

“Grammar. Syntax. The fact that the real Epiales wrote that it wasn’t him on his website?”

“You said that last time. What’s the real reason?”

You closed your eyes. “Please, Tom. Please trust me on this. I just know, okay? I can’t elaborate.”

“Will you eventually?”

You opened them. His face seemed relaxed, but his knuckles were pinched white. “I can’t promise you that. Please, trust me on this one thing without explanation.”

Tom glared at you, the city night lights not even reflecting in his eyes, and he dropped his arms, moving to tap his fingers on his thigh. He edged a hint closer to the window. “I can do that,” he said, smiling too widely.

He’s lying.

He’s so lying.

He’s still going to be constantly vigilant, waiting for you to let something slip. You cannot afford to let your guard down around him, even now that you’re beyond vulnerable: no house, no possessions, and no composure. You’ve got to be even more careful, now.

“Oh, and Viper?” Tom didn’t even look away from the window. “If they’re targeting people associated with your old workplace, don’t you think you had better cut all ties with them? Erase evidence you were connected?” He put your phone on the seat between you.

“I guess so.”

Deleted pictures. Emails. Harriet’s cheerful picture smiled up at you from her contact. She’d offered to check on you tonight.

You blocked her number.

There, you thought, setting your phone aside, That’s the end of my old life. Completely gone. Trout squirmed out of your grip, and she stumbled over to his lap and headbutted his lower chest. Now my life is nothing but Tom fucking Holland.

And there’s nowhere else to run to, only him.

Out of all the thoughts churning inside, one question bubbling to the surface, and another, you bottled-up.

“Where are we going?”

Were you safe?

***

suppressio veri: suppression of the truth.

***

taglist: @hollandroos @starksparker @pparkerwrites @qxeen-of-hearts @stealth-spiderr @presidentbttrflyfreak @parsleysbaby @madmadmilk @paradoxparker @bi-writes @astronomyparkers @bornsickbutilove @infamous-webhead @laurfangirl424 @softspideys @gryfinpuffs @plethoraofpuppies @laucontrerasv @shootingstarsaretearsofheaven @spiderboytotherescue @cassiopeiaskies

[likesomekindofcheese]

When I’m With You (Ben Hanscom x fem! Maid!Reader, Soulmate AU)

A/N: Hello @may85​, it is I!!!! Your Secret Santa revealed for @bowieandqueen11​‘s Christmas event!! I hope you like it, I have never written for The Loser’s Club before and now this is the right time! I hope you like it!

Here is a link for the song at the end of the Oneshot, for anyone who’d like to listen!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P_VpBqHYv0M

Word Count: 2066

Warnings: maid/domestic work, a meet cute, drinking, swearing, a bit of angst, doggos, soulmate au with marks and the whole shebang and a bit of Reddie thrown in too!

You looked at the mark on your forearm under your stuffy black dress. A single red mark the shape of an oval, but all alone. No soulmate, no second mark. You covered it up before some old woman in a tiara could see you and spit at you for another Rose glass.

Snooty Architect parties made you want to crash your head into the wall.

Maybe it was because it was long, it took hours to prepare and hours to clean after, but that was not all. It was the people.

“Hey, gimme another martini, will you?” your boss asked. “And there’s something on your apron, sweetheart, wipe it off.”

You sighed. You knew that being a maid would not be easy. But the thought of dropping to become a stripper making a thousand a night seemed a little tempting that night.

You went into the bathroom and wet a towel to clean your apron, noticing a strain of meatball sauce, but as you squeezed out the surplus liquid you got a look at yourself.

Who would pay to see me strip, though? Your eyes looked puffy and your hair was a mess.

As you turned back to go to the party, you turned back to your senses to make it more enjoyable. There was beautiful jazz piano music drifting through the air along with some clicking heel steps and laughter that was small and polite.

Rarely, you would see a pair with the two red marks. It would peek out from a sleeve on the wrist or revealed on a shoulder thanks to a woman wearing a dress with no neckline. But there were a lot of double marks and happy faces to go along with them.

Armies of black tuxedoes and sometimes the glittery green and blue and red dresses the women wore would catch your eye. They smiled with bright pink lipstick and then men would take out a cigar occasionally, mixing it with the smell of flowery perfume and the spray you have been using to keep it clean.

And speaking of clean, there was a mess on the floor again.

Snapping out, you were about to run back to the cleaning supplies to fetch a mop when someone called

“OOOF!”

BAM!

You looked over and saw a man was lying down over the stain.

People turned around and gasped pretentiously at this event. You could swear the piano stopped too.

Hurrying over, you offered your hand to the man.

“I’m so sorry! I was just about to clean that mess up! Are you okay?” you ask in one breath.

As you got a good look at him you had to revise that second thought.

It was a handsome man who was lying over the stain. 

He was slightly freckled with brown hair and a beard that seemed as soft as clouds. He was tall and muscular with high cheekbones on his face. And as for his tuxedo…well, you know what they say about a man in a tuxedo. He was like a walking ken doll.

Too bad it was now ruined, considering that said stain was over the seat of his pants.

You helped him up and led him to a back closet. Pushing aside from any snide looks at the sight of a man and woman going into a room alone together, you sat him on an upside-down bucket and began searching the containers.

“Trust me, this isn’t the first time this has happened, but I know how to clean it” you insist.

He looked down at his pants and then at you.

“Oh, thanks a lot! That’s very nice of you” he said cheerfully.

“I’m just doing my job” you replied with a shrug. A half-smirk made it’s way on you as you checked the stain conveniently on his gluts. It wasn’t a sight to complain about. 

“A lot of people here would have just turned away…” he mumured, looking at the door back to the party. 

You give him the bottle of the mixture you kept for stains and hand it over to him.

“What’s your name, by the way?” he asks politely. He looks down a little and puts an arm on his forearm, rubbing timidly.

You answer him with your name.

“Lovely, I’m Ben, Ben Hanscom.” he replies. 

The party felt a little faster after meeting Ben, but once the clock struck midnight you sighed at the streamers and stains and bits of food everywhere. You had just gotten the broom and dustpan, ready to go only to notice that one guest hadn’t left yet.

“Ben? What are you doing here?” you questioned your eyes the size of the moon.

“I couldn’t just say thank you, look!” he points to his pants where the stain dipped.

It is barely visible.

“Let me return the favor, okay? I’ll help you clean up” he begs.

 May 2019

Winter and Spring had long since passed. But your friendship with Ben had not. Just his face and the thought of his voice made every grueling day of scrubbing floors pass by with a smile on your lips.

Feeling a buzz from your purse, you looked down to see it was Ben’s name on top of that happy little green square. Joy buzzed in your guts as you sat down on your boss’s yellow couch, freshly vacuumed, and read the text, the phone almost to your nose.

Ben: Hey there, I’m having dinner with someone.

Now a different feeling buzzed in your guts.

Ben: It’s someone important. What kind of drink should I have? You’re a total drink expert so I wanted to ask you.

Someone important. Probably a female someone.

You texted back with an angry huff escaping your lips.

Y/N: Depends, what meat are you having?

Ben: I’m fixing a meatloaf. I know, it’s old fashioned. I’m a mom at heart, Y/N

IY/N: t’s alright! Well, since that’s darker meat, go with a bottle of red wine!

Ben: That’s perfect! Thank you!

Y/N: I swear Ben, you make buildings, cook, and you’re learning the piano! You’re a real Renaissance man!

Little did you know that Ben was roasting his mother’s signature meatloaf at home. The thought of your name made him feel warm, and not just from the oven.

Flutters aside from your comment, he reached over and texted.

Ben: You always help me give such good advice, it’s for my buddy, Ritchie! I haven’t seen him in years! I’ll tell him that the wine was your idea.

Y/N: Ritchie? One of your Derry buddies?

 You got up from leaning on the couch and nearly let out a whoop, but stopped, knowing your boss was in the midst of his nap. That jolt of happy lightning was still going through you. 

Ben: Yup! He’s coming over to discuss proposal ideas….

Y/N: Lucky girl.

Ben: Well, Eddie’s not a girl, but he’s lucky. I hope you like Pomeranian pics bc his new puppy is the cutest thing…

Y/N: Please send them!

He immediately sent you a picture of the sweetest looking Pomeranian curled up on a large bed, sleeping under the covers with his front paws tucked over like a polite child.

Y/N: Awwwww! Any name?

Ben: They don’t know. I keep trying to tell Ritchie that Punk Ass Bitch isn’t an option.

Y/N: How about Penny! Cause he’s the color of one!

There were five minutes of silence.

Not Penny was all that he said.

Tears returned.

August 2019

“I have never seen someone so disrespectful,” your boss glowered. From behind his desk, his shadow grew so large it seemed to swallow you whole.

“Sir, it was a mistake!” you begged.

“Not a mistake! An insult!” he screamed, banging his fists on his desk.

“Sir, please listen! I am truly sorry; I didn’t know this would happen! I didn’t know it was wrong! Here, let me take care of it, I swear…” you beg, your legs begin to buckle beneath you.

“Get out! You’re fired! And so, help me, I never want to even speak to you again!” he thundered, pointing to the door.

Nauseous and sobbing violently, you ran out.

But the sun was setting, and it seemed there was no one. Almost no one. There was one person you wanted to see more than ever now.

Nerves shackled your stomach. You hadn’t talked to Ben much since that day because you were so ashamed, but here you were. Knocking on his door, he opened wearing a button-up shirt that made you want to swear under your breath.

“Ben, let me just make this quick, I’m so sorry. I sent that text...”

“No, no, please Y/N, don’t worry! I’ll explain everything. You had no way of knowing, please come in!”

You walked into his house, admiring all his things. His black dog trotted over and smiled in a greeting, wagging his tail so hard that it hurt a little when it hit your leg.

Looking over, you noticed a picture frame. It must have been Ben with his family but…there was only one kid. One kid that had his eye color but not his body type.

“Is this your family?”

“Yes, uhm…take a seat, Y/N, I have a lot to tell you.” He says, rubbing his hands together nervously.

“And is this you?” you asked, still looking at the frame.

He nodded “uhm…yes. I used to be heavy. I was bullied a lot. I spent all my summers at the library too.”

He lifted his shirt to show his stomach. Your eyes widened at the sight of some scars.

“Some bullies got me one day and almost stabbed me.”

“That’s awful. You’re lucky you survived.” you comforted, blinking slowly and trying to see it in your head. The thought of someone hurting Ben made your fists clench. 

“That’s an understatement,” he said.

It was in the privacy of that house Ben explained everything. Derry’s curse. Pennywise. The deaths. The visions.

“But Ben….” You explain softly “I understand…I really do…”

You begin to reach over for his hand and instead, he hugs you deeply. Warm, soft, and safe, you feel some of his tears fall down his face onto your shoulder.

Suddenly you notice for the first time that his forearm has a mark just like yours. After the shaking and crying have paused for a moment, you touch it.

“Ben…look…” you whisper.

But he is staring at you back, mouth open and silent.

And your forearm is feeling very warm.

Ben barely gets the question out before you pull up your sleeve and show him your mark.

Only this time, there are two red ovals, just like his.

 December 2019

“The day after Christmas has to be the saddest day in the whole year” you sigh, swirling the drink in your glass.

The sky was dark and full of gently falling snowflakes. You were lounging on your boyfriends' seat and his dog was curled up next to you. The dog’s hair was on almost all of your clothes now, but with such a sweet face (and an even sweeter owner), you couldn’t care less.

Ben looked at you, in his cream-colored sweater, and grinned. He then turned to the new piano he got for Christmas and sat down.

“Funny you should say that ever heard Alex Duffy’s music?” he asked, starting to play chords to get into the right key.

“No” you answer with your head shaking. 

He offered an arm and gestured next to the piano. You walked over and stood still, watching him as he began to play and sing:

“I walk down the street and see a wintery wonderland

The candles in the windows and the salvation army band

All the people wandering 'round in a sudden state of glee

But all of those people, they ain't me

I smell in the air pine needles fresh and new

And everyone's cheeks have got a pleasant rosy hue

They've got visions of the gifts that underneath their tree will lie

But to that I say: not I”

 He then looks at you, and plays a bit further, only glancing at the keys.

For I've got a secret that no one else can know

That keeps my temperament even during times of snow

I've got the perfect present, one not wrapped up in a bow

It lifts my spirits high when I'm feeling low

Others long for the holidays, yes indeed they do

But every day is Christmas when I'm with you”

You keep listening to the song, then go around and wrap him in his arms. He keeps singing softly, for only you to hear.

Now some might say it's unfair and severe

That I get a Christmas gift each day of the year

To them, I would say that I've no guarantee

But maybe one day they'll find someone as sweet as she

I've got the perfect present, one not wrapped up in a bow

She lifts my spirits high when I'm feeling low

Others long for the holidays, yes indeed they do

But every day is Christmas

Yes every day I deck the halls

Everyday is Christmas when I'm with you!

He gets up and hugs you deeply, your arms entwined and your marks touching together. It snows a little harder when you both kiss.

[pezberry-week]

So I have to admit this is a little bit of a cheat for my Pezberry Secret Santa fill for @angel-hummel - as in, it’s both my present fill and a prompt fill for my 25 Days of Christmas (AO3) fic collection. As it is, I have plans to revisit this someday, but I hope you enjoy this self contained bit anyway. Happy Pezberry Secret Santa, angel-hummel!

*

Day 21: Character A is pretending to be their friend’s lover for the sake of the friend’s family. Character B is said friend’s sibling.

*

“Santí! Come down and meet your brother’s girlfriend!”

“That’s really not necessary.” Rachel smiled at Maribel, hoping the woman wouldn’t see her unease. “If she’s busy we can always meet later.”

“Nonsense. It’s time for her to come down anyway.” Frowning, Maribel sighed, saying under her breath, “That girl,” before taking a step on the staircase, rapping harshly against the wall. “Santí! Get off the computer and come meet Rachel! Your brother’s girlfriend!” She turned her head, smiling at Rachel, “I’m so sorry. She’s always playing around with those music programs of hers.”

“Puck did tell me that she worked for Big Machine Records…” Rachel tried to placate, starting to feel even more awkward than she originally had when she’d first walked into her friend’s father and step-mother’s house as his fake girlfriend. “Perhaps she’s busy mixing and can’t hear you?”

Maribel huffed. “That would be just like her. Here,” she turned, descending the step she’d taken, “Can you be a dear and fetch her for me? I have to check on dinner, and this way you can introduce yourself.”

Blinking, feeling a little blindsided, Rachel barely had the chance to agree before Maribel was hustling her up the stairs, calling out a thank you as she turned to make her way back to the kitchen. Figuring there was no point in pausing in the middle of the stairs, she finished her walk up, pausing and wavering at the top before sighing and squaring her shoulders, turning to the hall of doors. About to start worrying about which she should knock on, she relaxed when she could see a door proudly proclaiming, “Santana’s Room Keep Out!!!” from where she stood. That was lucky.

The door opened after Rachel’s second smattering of hesitant knocks, Rachel still pulling her hand away. “I told you, Mamí, I have a deadline I have to – – you’re not mom.”

Beautiful brown eyes blinked down at her. Framed by thick, curly bangs and above a thin nose and plush, red lips, Santana Lopez practically took Rachel’s breath away. When the striking eyes narrowed, Rachel realized she was still staring, and she took a step back, shoving her hands behind her back so they wouldn’t fidget in front of her. “I’m Rachel. R-Rachel Berry,” she stuttered, “Puck’s… Girlfriend.”

“You don’t sound so confident about that,” Santana smirked at her, leaning against the side of her doorway.

Red slashed across Rachel’s face. “Oh, no, I am. I, er, just…” Trailing off, she remembered herself, standing forward to offer her hand, “It’s nice to meet you.”

Untangling her arm from the doorway, Santana accepted the handshake, and suddenly long, warm fingers were wrapped around Rachel’s. “Rachel, eh? Puck’s bandmate?” She made vocal bunny ears, “The tiny fellow Jew hottie?”

More red bloomed on Rachel’s cheeks. “Ah, yes, that’s me. Apparently…” She’d have to have a talk with Puck about how he described her in the future. Not wanting to relinquish the handshake, but knowing she had to before it became weird, Rachel pulled her hand back, Santana’s grip briefly tightening before releasing her, sliding her hand into the pocket of her skinny jeans. Following the motion, Rachel wondered why she’d thought it be a good idea to wear one of her ‘best impression wholesome girl’ dresses when she could have worn something like what Santana was and have given her an extremely different impression than what she was probably giving her.

“Seems like a pretty accurate description,” Santana smiled, bringing Rachel’s attention back up to her face.

Rachel laughed self-consciously. “You should hear how he describes you.”

Fine eyebrows rose. “Oh, you’ve gotta tell me.”

“Well, you know…” Taking a second to come up with a response, Rachel affected her voice lower, “’Santana Puckerman? My totally pain in the ass step-sister.’”

Rolling her eyes, Santana shook her head, a smirk still curling her lips up. “He just never stops complaining about when I almost castrated him with a s’mores fork, doesn’t he?”

“What?”

“We were eight.”

“Wait, his pain is literal?”

“I’m sure you’ve seen his ass. Is the scar still visible?”

“That’s… Actually not something I would know.” Thank god.

“Really?” Santana’s eyebrows shot up again. “Normally bro’s faster with getting his chicks naked. Boy does not know how to do the romance.”

“And you do?” Rachel immediately lobbed back, both out of curiosity and automatic defense of her friend.

Santana smirked. “I’m sure you’ve heard the tales about me. What do you think?”

Opening her mouth, Rachel was saved from making some obvious and pathetic attempt at not being flirty by the loud racket of Puck loping up the stairs. “Babe,” he called out carelessly, swinging himself around the banister, “Stop flirting with my sis and come make me look good. Mom’s wantin’ us all down there.”

“Puck,” Rachel snapped, not bothering to hide her mortification at his words as Puck wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her into his side.

Puck smirked at Santana. “Ain’t she hot?”

Again, “Puck,” and Rachel elbowed his side, using his indrawn breath and flinch to disentangle herself, stepping aside and straightening her dress.

Santana surveyed them curiously, a lazy tilt of her lips showing her amusement. “At least this one seems to know how to handle you,” she teased, shaking her head; disappearing into her bedroom – Rachel getting a glimpse of black and white and a sumptuous looking bed – she called over her shoulder, “Give me a sec to save my work and I’ll be there.”

Once Rachel was secure she was far enough away to be able to hold a furiously whispered conversation, she rounded onto Puck. “You,” she jutted her finger at him, “Didn’t tell me how… Attractive she was!”

That elicited a loud, full-belly laugh, Puck even going so far to pretend to wipe away tears. “You’ve seen pics, haven’t ya?”

“Those were crazy, unflattering ones, and you know it!”

Still laughing, Puck shook his head, urging Rachel down and in front of him, meeting his mother in the kitchen. “Well now you know, eh?”

Giving Maribel a calm, benign smile, Rachel elbowed him again the second she was turned away.

*

A couple of hours later, gathered at the family table with a mug of spiked eggnog and reams of awkward, fake relationship comments behind her, Rachel couldn’t look away from Santana.

“You’re being obvious,” Puck teased, breath hot against her ear, lips curled up.

“Not caring,” Rachel lilted back, raising her mug in a toast when prompted, her tongue lapping up foam when it clung to her upper lip.

A strong finger poked her side. “Have you forgotten you’re my girlfriend?” he prodded.

Rachel grit her teeth. Turning her head, angling back to glare at him, she humphed. “Shhh. You, grateful, me going to ogle if I want to.”

“You do so criminally rarely ogle,” Puck hummed agreeably. “Should I let slip that you’re an out and proud bisexual?”

Rachel didn’t feel bad about the strength of the kick behind the side of her foot impacting her bandmate’s shin. She took a sip of her eggnog to cover the proud smirk at his fumbling of covering up the reason for his squeak. As her eyes traveled along aimlessly, she had to stop and blink, a blush covering her cheeks at the dark eyes smirking at her. Well. At least it was only Santana who had seemed to catch on. Rachel softly cleared her throat. “Dear, you alright?”

“No thanks to you,” Puck hissed, but gathered himself. “Hey, sis,” he abruptly burst out, motioning at Santana when both Abby and Santana looked at him, “Now that Show and Tell’s done with me n’ Rache, how ‘bout you? Got any hot tail in LA?”

“Noah,” Maribel sighed from her spot down the table, lowering her mug to the table, “Must you speak like that? I swear, I don’t know where you and Santana got it.”

Santana and Puck exchanged grins. “Lima Heights Adjacent,” they chorused.

Maribel closed her eyes. “We never lived in Lima Height Adjacent.”

“Tell that to the jocks and nerds who were terrified of Santana in high school,” Puck laughed. He affected his voice, lifting his hands, “’I’m ‘bout to go Lima Heights Adjacent on your ass if yous don’ts. Step. Offs. Afores I ends you.’”

Santana grinned. “You forgot the razors ‘all up in my weave’.”

Abby tched, rolling her eyes. “I went to William McKinley after you guys and heard nothing. So I think you’re lying. Or exaggerating.”

Grinning, her teeth biting lightly on the rim of her mug, Rachel watched the play-by-play. She jerked, cheeks glowing bright as Santana suddenly winked at her.

“Puh-lease. Puck was the one exaggerating,” Santana grinned, tossing her hair and adopting a teasing tone, “Who was the one who was a ‘sex shark’ who died if they stopped having sex?”

“Ay Dios mio and the Mother Mary!” Maribel groaned, her palm slapping on the table, stopping Puck’s retort, “Who raised you children? Have you no tact? Do I need to hear this, hmm?”

Santana snorted. “Ask your son, Mamí. He’s the one who used that excuse.”

“Oh, and you didn’t use tricks to get the girls into your bed,” Puck snapped, looking actually insulted, his chin and chest jutting forward.

Santana clicked her tongue at him. “Unlike you, I didn’t need to.”

“Oh god,” Abby muttered, hands covering her face, “Stop! Forget about need, I don’t want to hear this!”

“I agree,” Rachel chimed in, steel filling her voice as she pressed her hand into Puck’s thigh, stopping him. “Noah.” She didn’t actually really care, having made peace with how much of a horn dog her friend was years ago, but she figured his girlfriend probably wouldn’t be amused at all.

Puck frowned at her. “Why do you care? You’ve always listened to me talk about girls…” he asked, Rachel’s eyes widening as she figured out, before him, what he was saying.

Rachel didn’t dare look at the stares she could feel until, taking a deep breath and pasting a large smile on her face, she looked up with a, “We… Have a very open relationship.”

The first person she looked at was Santana, who quirked her eyebrows at her. “How open?”

“Santana Maria Puckerman, please stop antagonizing your brother’s girlfriend.”

“Who’s antagonizing?” Santana asked ‘innocently’, hands raised, “It’s a legitimate question.”

Though obviously a little uncomfortable with the confession, Maribel helped (made) the conversation pivot, and with only a few moments of grumbling and heated glares at his sister, Puck settled down. Doing so as well, though expressing it with a dark smirk instead, Santana hummed, turned to Rachel, winked again, and only turned away in satisfaction as Rachel’s ears heated up.

Rachel had a week more of this. Of Santana.

Rachel’s teeth bit lightly into the rim of her eggnog mug.

Oh god.

[cianmars]

The Bookworms and the Library  Chapter 3: House Hunting AO3

James had never been so exhausted and so happy before. It was fall yet he stood in their new bookstore in a t-shirt: he was boiling- the heat in the place was malfunctioning so it felt like summer in there- despite this he was over the moon because they were nearly ready to open. He was shelving the first of the books as he waited for the guy to fix the heat.

He heard the bell above the shop door ring and he turned, expecting to see the heater-guy, but it was Belle. He placed the books on the shelf and crossed his arms over his chest, he looked at her with raised eyebrows, barely concealing his amusement. “Aren’t you meant to be finding your dream house, y’know not working here?”

Belle let out a loud sigh. She let her hand rest on the baby bump, which was protruding out from under her sweater. “I’ve been trying to but they all suck.”

“I’m sure they’re not that bad.” He was cut off by her thrusting flyers for the houses into his hand. He flicked through them, pulling a face as he did so. “Okay, you’re right these are shit, this one doesnt even have a roof!”

“I know!”

“Are these seriously the only ones around town? Davey said they saw nice ones when they were looking, and David may have grown up in a barn, but I know Snow at least has some standards - I doubt she would have looked at any of these.”

Belle let out another sigh and fell into a plastic covered armchair. “Most of the empty buildings around here belong to Rumple, the ones I know about anyway.” She explained.

James frowned. He moved to lean against a desk next to where Belle was sat. He looked down at her with the protective worry of a best friend. “He won’t sell one to you?”

“He probably would, but it’s awkward, and I want to find my own home, I want…”

She trailed off but he understood, she wanted to be in control, at least as much as she could while having to co-parent with him for the next 18 years. James nodded at her and stayed silent for a minute, in thought. “I could ask Snow if she still has the flyers for the other houses, if you like? I’m pretty sure that most of the places weren’t being sold by Rumple.”

Belle took a second to think before giving him a smile. “That would be good, thank you.” She reached over and squeezed his hand.

James had already been feeling hot, but having her hold his hand felt like a fire was starting inside of him, not necessarily dangerous more like a camp fire or the hearth of a home. He gave her a quick smile and pulled out his phone to text his sister in law, pulling his hand away from Belle as he did so.

He had a text from Snow within fifteen minutes, pictures of flyers for houses, all of which looked promising, all in different styles. He passed his phone over to Belle who grinned and started to show him houses she liked best, or pointing out some of the good features of the houses, he didn’t quite understand all of it but she seemed excited so he shared in it.

“Why don’t you come with me?”

James did a double take. “Where? Oh, to look at the houses?”

“Yeah, I might need some help judging them, or measuring things up- plus you can get out of this oven.”

James thought for a second, as of late he was constantly trying to evaluate his actions, trying desperately to not push too far, to stay friends without showing his crush, without her realising how much he truly cared for her…. But one look at her hopeful face and… “Okay. Just give me a couple of minutes to get ready.”

Without caring or thinking he took off his t-shirt.

Belle watched as he did so, she should look away, she should really look away. At the centre of his chest, among a litter of other scars, a large, harsh, jagged scar stood out   and was mirrored on his back: she winced at it without realising. She knew that he hadn’t been a good man when he died: he had spent money on dallances while his kingdom starved, he had killed giants, and left his ex girlfriend to die while he saved himself. But he had been the sword King George had forged through abuse when he was still a child. He had died for his crimes. Yet when he died he had chosen to work against Hades, he had seen the suffering of the dead people, he had chosen to become good. And when his niece led her family and friends to the underworld to save her love, Killian, he had helped them, and as a result he had later been rewarded a new life. Even now he was trying his best to be a good man.

And he was a good man, he had a couple of issues, she supposed, but he was working on them with Archie and on his own, he was kind, and caring, and funny, and although he tried to help her with my issues she had he also let her work on things on her own. He understood her need to be an individual. He understood her completely. And she understood him. He was her best friend in a way which she hadn’t had one before.  

Before she knew it he had a sweater on ready to go out to look at houses with her, for her, which somehow made her feel lonelier, it was just her and her unborn baby now.

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

Belle could hear her feet echoing on the tile as she walked around the house.

“This is, it’s big?” James offered trying to be upbeat. He watched Belle take some steps around the living area of the open plan first floor. “I know Neal has a lot of stuff and he’s four, Dave says he had even more stuff when he was a baby, you could do with this.”

“Yeah... yeah the space is good.” Belle agreed, she smiled at him but frowned when she looked back at the place. “There’s a lot of light too, which I guess is to be expected with the giant windows.”

James frowned. “Y’know, your fake happy voice needs a bit of work.” He smirked when she looked at him surprised that he had figured out she was faking it. “I know you Belle.” He explained with a shrug.

“Yeah… yeah I guess you do.” She sent him a small smile. She looked him over once again, sure he wasn’t shirtless now, and had a chunky sweater on hiding his abs and his scars… but he still looked nice, really nice in fact. He had a nice smile, a nice face in fact. It was weird because she had never looked at David like that, yet here James was looking so… and he was meant to be identical to David but Belle felt entirely different about him, his personality, his face, his body. Not that she was thinking about it, about him like that, she was pregnant, and everything with Rumple, plus her and James were friends and business partners ; she couldn’t chance screwing all that up.

“So, what do you want?”

“What?” Her eyes went wide. Shit, had she said it out loud? Shit, shit, shit.

“The… house… what type of house are you wanting? Are you feeling okay, Belle, you look a little pale?” He walked over to her, frowning in concern, should he feel her temperature or something?

“Sorry baby brain.” She lied.

“You get that before the baby is even born?!”

“Yeah, it’s erm, well, the human body’s weird.”

“Do you need to take a break or some air or, I don’t know, what helps?”

“I’m fine now, thanks James. I don’t know what sort of house.”

“Old or new?”

“Old, but not so old that it doesn’t have heat and electric and like a leaky roof.”

“Okay, so this one is out, there’s two other ones which are older but not too old. Keep your head up, we’re going to find you a new home today, I promise.”

Belle grinned at him. “I know you pretend to be all grumpy and serious and scary but you’re really sweet.”

James looked at her with laughter in his face and eyes. “Just don’t tell anyone else that, I have a reputation to keep.” The two shared a look and a smile.

They were both falling even though they had sworn to themselves that they wouldn’t.

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

The second place was a lot better suited to Belle. It was a cottage, not too small, it was nice, not falling down or a shack. It was on the edge of town, down a long dirt path in the woods.

“Hey, this place even has a proper fireplace, not like those ‘radiator’ things!” James called to her from the living room.

Belle beamed, running her hand along the top of the kitchen counter. “And the kitchen is amazing.” She stated when he came to see it. “And there’s plenty of room upstairs for me and the baby.”

James grinned and opened the backdoor to look at the yard. “The flyer said you get a lot of land, I think that means all the trees, and that big lake.”

“There’s a lake?!” Belle rushed over, squeezing into the doorway with him, she leant into his side.

James wrapped his arm around her to stop her from falling. “Yeah. I once went on an adventure of sorts, it was the first time I had to sail on my own. Did you know that it’s tiring to row a boat?”

Belle tried her best to hide her smile, but failed, quite spectacularly. “Yeah, I have some experience with rowing boats and adventures too.” She smiled when he looked impressed.

“Though you’ll have to fence it off within a year or so, with a little tyke being around here.”

Belle frowned. “Yeah you’re right. How much of the land is mine?” James shrugged so she brought out her phone to look at the plans online. “There’s no signal.”

James took out his phone. “Mine too.” He moved around a bit. “So, you remember that moving pic- movie, the one you forced me to watch, the erm, the horror one?” He asked slowly.

“Oh shit.” Belle looked around the place with new eyes. “I’ll be part of a horror movie.”

“I wouldn't be able to stop you from getting this place… but I’d rather you didn’t die; you’re kind of my only friend, my best friend in fact, and my partner- business partner.”

Belle’s heart skipped a beat until he quickly said business partner, then her heart, curiously, fell. She quickly regained her composure and smiled up at him. She lowered her hand, the back of her hand brushed against the back of his, as they stood side by side. Don’t, she had to remind herself. “Yeah, I think you’re right, I don’t know how you’d survive without me.”

James laughed, loudly and freely, as he could only around those he loved the most, and he always laughed louder and freer around Belle.

Belle watched him for a half second before laughing with him.

At their sides Belle took hold of his hand.

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

As soon as Belle stepped foot into the front yard of the last place Belle knew it was the one. It was a contemporary beach house, or that’s what the flyer for it had said, and it wasn’t that far from the beach so she supposed it was fitting. It was grey stone at the bottom and white paneling on the rest of it. There were wooden troughs out the front one with flowers in and another with signs saying the vegetables which were busy growing under the soil. The garden was fenced in but it didn’t feel imprisoning like the first place they had looked at.

“Woah.”

Belle had almost forgotten that she was there with James. She looked up at him, taking in his face of complete wonder, Belle had grown up in a castle but it was nowhere near as splendid as the one James had grown up in she was wondering how he was so impressed by this. “You like this place?”

“Of course! I mean imagine this place a year or two in the future; you and the little one out making snow angels, or planting flowers and fruit and vegetables, teaching him the names of birds, or looking for bugs.”

Belle watched his eyes sparkling as he spoke, he was watching the house so intently she could almost see the scenes playing in his head, she remembered that this wasn’t the spoiled prince she heard her father speaking about in the Enchanted Forest, this was her James, he was a good and kind man, she wondered if he would ever settle down and start a family of his own. She looked at the garden and found that she could imagine what James had said to her. She placed her hands on her stomach. She couldn’t feel her baby but she knew he was safe in there, and he would be safe in this garden, even if she couldn’t imagine the baby being a month old, let alone two years old. “Let’s head inside.”

James led the way up the stairs to the porch and held the door open for Belle to walk through first. “My Lady.”

Belle smiled to herself and walked through the door. “Thank you, kind sir.”

James felt proud, he knew she’d understand his reference, she was the one who had made him watch all of Community after all. He noticed her eyes widening and her smile grow before he even looked inside of the house. He had to remind himself, again, to watch himself: he had a penance to serve, it was self imposed but as serious as any. He quickly turned his head to look at the house instead.

He understood why Belle was smiling, it really looked like the perfect family home. It was nearly open plan, there was a wall and a corner separating the areas of the living room and kitchen. The kitchen was modern and full, perfect for cooking and baking, there was a big table. James couldn’t help but imagining Belle sat there, with a book and her breakfast, the baby in a highchair, and James was there too. He subtly shook his head, he was being stupid, he was her friend, and that’s all he would be.

He walked after Belle, smiling as she happily pointed out all the different things she loved, and he added things which she knew she liked, there was a little conservatory bit which he wandered to.

“Hey Belle look at this.”

“Woah, I could see the sea from here!”

“You could fill it with bookcases and comfortable chairs and you could read while you look out at the sea.” He pointed out. “With your little one playing, or if he’s like you he’ll be reading.”

Belle’s smile brightened even more, if possible. She nudged her shoulder against his. “You’ll have to come around too, if you’re not too sick of seeing us at the bookstore all the time.”

James’ eyes met Belle’s. “I’d never get sick of you. Either of you.”

There was a pregnant pause. Belle went on her tiptoes, their faces were an inch away, Belle could see into his sparkling blue eyes, the way his tongue flickered out over his bottom lip…. No. No, she couldn’t.

She turned back into the main house. “Let’s look upstairs.”

James took a deep breath in. He had nearly bent his head down to kiss her… he had nearly…. Fuck. He needed to control himself better. He was clearly reading too much into Belle’s actions. She had just been trying to get a better look at things a little higher up. He ran his hand through his hair before allowing himself to smooth out his features and continue to follow Belle.

The looked at the bedrooms, of which there were four, there was a little office, and a family bathroom, along with an en-suite attached to the master bedroom. There was plenty of room, storage, and views from what would be the baby’s room of what James saw as the perfect garden.

“You’ve got to get this place.” He told her looking out of the window.

He turned around and saw Belle looking at her phone, she was frowning. “What’s wrong?”

“What? Erm, I’m just not sure. It might be a little too far from the bookstore.”

“It’s about a twenty minute drive, it’s not that far, and it’s not like you have certain hours to keep anyway.”

“Okay, but it’s, it’s too big.”

“You did say that you wanted a place you could stay in forever no matter how big your family grew.”

“But what if it’s too small?”

“Belle, what’s going on?”

“What? Nothing.”

“Something’s going on, you loved this house until you looked at your cell phone, did Gold say something? Or Moe?”

Belle let out a loud sigh.”It’s far from the centre of town… from you. I’ll see you in work but otherwise it’ll be hard to see you.”

James felt her words like a stab in his heart. “You think… You think that just because you’re moving further away I won’t be able to see you much anymore?”

“No. Well, yes, no- but you’re going to be far away, you’re not going to be able to easily walk here every day like you do while I’m living above the library. When I have the new baby I’m not going to be able to get to work and see you there every day, there are going to be times where I’ll probably be housebound maybe for a couple of weeks where I just won’t be able to see you-”

Belle’s rambling stopped as James’ calloused hands cupped her cheeks so gently that she wasn’t sure if he was actually touching her or not. His hands on her cheeks forced her to look straight into his stormy blue eyes. They were close enough that she could feel his breath caressing her skin.

“Do you really think that I would let a little distance stop me from seeing you?” He asked her, his voice was soft, and a little hurt by her even possibly thinking that. “I’ve been getting David to teach me how to drive, I have my test next week.” He admitted. “I figured that you might need some help being driven to places before and after you’ve had the baby. And if I’m in this realm for good, I should probably learn, I tried in the underworld but it wasn’t that successful- anyway,” he shook his head turning his attention back to what he had been meaning to say, “Belle, I’m going to be visiting you so much that you’re going to be bored and sick of me. You’re close enough to Davey’s house that I can just escape him being annoying when I visit by ducking out to see you instead.”

“You love your brother.”

“Yeah, I guess, but that doesn’t mean he’s not the most annoying person in the world.” He smiled at her, the smile only grew as she raised her hand and held onto his wrist as his hands were still on her face. “Belle this house is the most perfect house I’ve ever seen. You need to buy it.”

“As long as you promise that you’ll be around a lot.”

“I swear it.” His head ducked down a little.

Belle tilted her head back, moved it towards his, she went onto her tiptoes….

The jumped apart as the door to the baby’s room opened and the estate agent walked in. “So, what do you two think? This would make an amazing nursery, I’m sure you’ll be having even more as soon as possible, I can tell just from looking at you.”

James’ cheeks and ears flushed pink, his hand went to the back of his head, running his hand through his hair, a nervous tick he shared with his brother. He was about to open his mouth to explain, yet again, that they were just friends and he was just helping her, but he remembered Belle’s face as she explained again and again that she was a single mother, and how the estate agents always looked after she said so. He dropped his hand to his side and gently took Belle’s hand in his own, giving it a comradely squeeze

“Yes, this place is perfect. Though knowing Belle she’ll have several questions to ask you before she signs.” He gave the estate agent a dazzling smile, he watched he blush with pride, until he remembered how he had used that smile as a weapon in the Enchanted forest. He felt nauseous, the smile immediately disappeared from his face.  

He watched Belle follow the estate agent down to the kitchen to talk, and he trailed slowly behind them. The nausea he felt remembering his past deeds reminded him of his solemn promise to make amends. He couldn’t be selfish and chase after his own happiness after he had destroyed so many others’ lives and happy endings.

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Later, after Belle signed for the house and James treated her to dinner, James let on his back on his couch alone in his apartment- which just didn't seem like home after spending all day with Belle, he heard his phone chime, Snow asking how the house search went.

He frowned staring at Snow's comment 'Not what I meant', he didn't understand what she could possibly mean unless... unless... no, that's impossible, he was subtle about liking, loving, Belle, there was no way she could guess let alone know... No, Snow must have meant something else, he just didn't know what.