#good guy nai au

[lankylunatic]

As a follow up to my previous post

Just a bro with a smoothie. That's all Vash.

[cheschesterpossum]

guys, guys. New CITF lore drop. I changed a few things. I wrote this after eating two spoon of ground coffee.

I've been thinking about the possibility of aliens existing, and this thought crossed my mind. Now the universe is vast, and I wouldn't be surprised if there were other sentient lifeforms existing beside us. But if there's none? That would be quite a disappointment for some people. No other species, no other worldly friend, Humanity is awfully lonely. Someone or maybe multiple out there is going take it upon themselves to create aliens with a goal of creating an equal companion for humans.

I sound a lil insane, but think about it. Humanity done very insane stuff before, why wouldn't this be a possibility?

And yes, im adding this to my little AU. Finally managed to think of a more interesting backstory for this (i think).

↓ lore rambling below the cut

Ah yes, long long ago Humanity was the first to gain sentient. We've done the impossible and rise a top of the food chain. I know damn well a good chunk have dreamed of meeting aliens, learn their culture and technology, their superior mind-

And it's just a little, teeny tiny bit (very) disappointing that we're just... complete alone. We conquered the stars but at the cost of what? It's scary, to find out in the endless space, that us humans stand alone. Hopes of finding a companion for Earth or maybe even a superior species drop.

Almost. If we can't them, how about me we make them? Years upon years of evolutions and advancing, we can't stop just stop here now can we? So a new project of creating Humanity's equal start. In a pocket universe.

.... it is a lot more difficult than we thought.

It took us long enough to actually make one remotely gain consciousness. And it take even more to actually make one competent to thrive on it's own.

Some lead their own demise due to their sheer brute and strength, some far intelligent yet blinded by arrogance that they destroy themselves inside out, some couldn't even last a few hundreds years. Mistakes upon mistakes, fails upon fails.

Sometimes we resolve to man-made deity in hope it would create something that works. And even that would still be left with major issues.

How many failed attempts did God make when creating us?

As the project continue, at some point we would finally, after so so many attempts, manage to create something adequate. And you guess it, Cybertronians.

Admittedly, sentient vehicle robots sound strange. But if it work, it work. Despite being cyber species, they're made with a bit more resemblance toward humans. Reflecting some of our features, the way we walk, the way we talk. They have flaws, but so do we. And my goodness do their technologies feed our nerdiness. This is God creating humans in his image all over again

We should let them grow by themselves. Perhaps is our bias or the closeness we feel toward them, a bit of guidance wouldn't hurt, we can just left them on their own device after we're done? So when saw Cybertron in shambles, we did just that, lending a helping hand. We've been there before after all.

Fast forward, after leaving the pocket universe unsupervised momentarily. We came back to check, yeah... it's mayhem down there. This time Humanity would stand back to watch, and watch, and we got impatient. The Decepticon-Autobot war has been going on nonstop without an end, and we get worried it'd end up in the same result as the past attempts.

Again, we went down there. Maybe they remember us, maybe they don't at all. However we'd stay longer, we'd do more than just interfering; we're making a connection, a bond between two equals.

It been very lonely at the top.

[rosenbergamot]

writing process = painful

[shurisneakers]

unsolved (vii)

Summary: Bucky doesn't even believe in the paranormal. So who the hell thought it was a good idea to stick him in a series about everything haunted for the internet's amusement? With his loose-canon of a teammate who has no concept of subtlety or shits left to give, to make things even worse. (Buzzfeed unsolved AU)

Warnings: swearing, frustrated bucky, obnoxious reader, mentions of hauntings and the paranormal.

A/N: hello. i am late again. i almost gave up but we are here. for better or for worse. i will most likely go back ad edit the second half again ok love u guys mwahmwah

Previous part || Series masterlist

Only after hours, nay, a full day of hunching over his desk, eyes red-rimmed and burning, four crushed cans of energy drinks next to him lending to him the nervous energy of a chihuahua, Bucky realises that there’s no beating it.

He absentmindedly takes another sip of the RedBull, flinching when the taste registers. Either he’d reached his threshold or the medicine flavour had begun morphing into something else entirely. The caffeine didn’t even work on him, so really, he was just placebo-ing himself into having energy. 

Every site he’s visited has had a vastly different interpretation; ones that don't match what he thinks has been happening, or the context past his past provides. Others are simply blatantly wrong based on the additional research he, in his infinite wisdom and totally accurate self-assessment tendencies, has been gathering in the last 3 days. 

The Star. Six of Cups. The Hanged Man.

Bucky knows he could ask someone in real life about this, someone who possibly had more experience than a simple website whose code broke every time he tried to scroll to the bottom. However, that would mean that he had to tell them his dead sister was probably haunting him out of her spite and hatred for the very fibres of his being.

Also, Bucky may be haunted by his dead relatives, but he’s not haunted enough to actually leave his room over it. 

Video consultations were also an option, but he’s convinced that if word got out that Bucky Barnes was half-convinced ghosts were following him around, it would make headlines for a mighty long week. 

Therefore, he resorts to shady, online websites that demand he pay up before giving him the results of the readings they’ve done for him. 

The “lady” that he paid to talk to using Steve’s credit card on mistytarot.com types for a very long time before a message comes through.

The thought bubble disappears for another half an hour, and Bucky thinks hat either she is a complete scam, or it’s run by someone who is about as technologically proficient as Steve was. 

But a message does in fact come through, and it’s enough to have him be covninced that the 20 bucks he blew on Steve’s card was worth it. 

Lady Lilia 

Considering that you think you’re being haunted, The Star could represent the absence of hope. Do you feel like you’re being trapped in darkness? As if you are being abandoned by the universe and with no room for healing?

B. Barneswell i forgot about it until now

Lady Lilia If your sister passed away a long time ago, the reason The Six of Cups may have presented itself is because you may be feeling like you're ensnared in the past, constantly reliving moments that hurt or confuse you, rather than finding peace. 

A frown grows on his face. 

Lady Lilia If you’re haunted by a person who used to be in your life and it is reminding you of past mistakes, The Hanged Man could be because feel like you're stuck in a cycle of stagnation, unable to move forward, as if these spirits are keeping you suspended in a state of emotional paralysis. 

However, if the cards were upright–

Bucky slams the laptop shut, inhaling and exhaling sharply through his nose.

From the corner of his eye, his phone lights up with the fifth missed call in the last ten minutes, but considering that he keeps that thing on silent, he never even noticed.

Shoving aside whatever he may be thinking for the moment, he checks the caller ID, only for feelings of confusion and despair to be immediately replaced with annoyance, or disgust even. 

He calls back anyway, preparing for the worst. 

“Did you drink all my RedBull?” Clint booms the second he picks up.

“No,” Bucky lies smoothly.

“Fucker, I know it was you. Pay me back. With interest.”

“No.”

Clint switches to whining. “You know I need that shit to stay awake at night. Some of us don’t have superhero cocaine in our system.”

“I don’t care, go to sleep at a normal hour.”

“Say, did you drink every last one?” Clint instantly switches to a curious tone for a second. “Because one of them’s not like the others.”

Bucky looks at the cans that littered his bedroom floor. “Why?”

“I can’t tell you what it is over the phone.”  

“Why?” 

“Let’s just say it’s not exactly allowed in the country, but–”

Bucky cuts the call and tosses it onto the bed. 

He runs a hand through his hair, softly exhaling while contemplating whether or not to continue the chat. Steve wouldn’t miss another 20 dollars, he had the wealth of a small prince with all that army back pay bullshit. In fact, Steve should ideally be funding more of Bucky’s endeavours. 

There comes a knock at his door.

Bucky immediately leaps off the bed, sprinting to the door, because he fuckin knows that knock, goddamn it–

He throws open the door before you get the chance to full body slam against it.

“Oh.” You blink, relaxing away from your stance. “Hey. How’d you know–”

“You do this every week,” he breaks in. “You do this multiple times a day.” 

“Don’t you dare say I’m predictable,” you warn, raising a finger. “I’ll start crying right here, then you’ll have to deal with that. You wanna see snot running down my–”

Bucky slams the door shut again, waiting to turn around. 

“Can you take me to the doctor?” Your voice is muffled through the solid wood.

It’s enough to make him hesitate, hand on the doorknob.

“What’s wrong with you?” he inquires.. 

“Nothing, I’m perfect,” you reply instinctively, before course correcting, “Wait, no, I’m sick.”  

He lets his head drop against the door. “Go to the fucking infirmary.”

“The infirmary told me to go to the hospital. Can you just take me?” you bug. “They won’t discharge me unless I have someone with me to drive me back.”

“You have a head injury?” Bucky asks, before following it with, “Actually, that tracks.”

“Rude.” 

“Ask Nat.”

“Nat’s in Lagos.”

“Ask Sam.” 

“Yoga.”

“Clint.”

“Really.”

“Glad to know I’m your first choice,” he mumbles, opening up the door. 

You send him a blistering smile. “You’re my favourite choice.” 

______

“You gotta take this turn,” you instruct, too close to the actual crossing. 

“The nearest hospital’s five minutes away, what the hell are you talking about?“ he points out, eyes on the road. 

“We’re going to the one on King’s Road,” you read off of Google maps. “Take that lef-– well, you missed that. Now you gotta make a u-turn.”

“What’s the problem with Chastain Park?” he demands. “King’s Road is half an hour away.”

“This one’s got all my files,” you insist. “Otherwise I gotta start over and it's so much effort.”

“Aren’t you in a database?”

“Yeah, but not a medical one.”

Bucky lets out something akin to a growl and a groan. “What's the time?”

“Like eight thirty?”

“What’s the time,” he emphasises, because he most definitely had another email due from another lady on the internet who he had sent his cards to a few hours ago. 

“Fine, it’s eight twenty two,” you shoot back.  “Did that make a big difference?”

“Yeah, it did actually,” he fires indignantly, “My life is radically different. You have no way of knowing.”

“Liar. You’re a lying liar, who lies.” You scoff. “And details are for losers.”

“Losers can drive all the way back to drop you off at the infirmary and let them deal with you.”

You relent, flashing him a grin. “This won’t take long.”

“You say this every fuckin’ time,” he groans, before complying and taking a u-turn anyway.

“You’re fucking joking,” he states. 

“No, it’s actually called lying,” you correct casually.  

“Is this an abandoned hospital? What the fuck?” Bucky asks, staring up at the huge decaying building.  

The outside looks run-down, with cracked, weathered brick walls and broken windows. The entrance is blocked off with rusted gates, some sections of which have fallen over. As the car rolls up, the air is thick with a musty, damp smell, mixed with a faint odor of decay.

“Yes,” you say simply, opening the trunk of the car and pulling out all the supplies you had from last time. “Video time. Let’s go.”

“You didn’t have to lie,” Bucky mumbles. “I’d have showed up.”

You give him a deadpan look. “You famously never do.”

That’s fair, but also, that was the old Bucky. The new Bucky circa this week is a bit more… invested. He feels the need to gather some more information, and unfortunately, the only opportunity to do that is here.

So for the time being, he decides he will hang on. For purely selfish reasons. 

“Just tell me next time,” he grunts. 

You observe him for a second like you're about to call him out on something, but instead you simply say, “Okay.”

Bucky grabs his usual stuff– the spirit box, a lapel mic, while you levitate the camera. 

“Hello?”

You both look beyond the camera at the same time to someone stalking up to you.

“Who’s there?” demands a middle aged woman with straw blonde hair, wrinkles decorating sunburnt skin, and a navy blue jacket. 

“Uh–”

“Who are you?” she asks, cautiously stopping a few feet away.  

“We’re here on a video shoot,” you inform. “Just wanted to check the place out.”

“Oh, you’re one of them camera folk,” she says, ponting her flashlight at you. “Those ghost hutner types.”

“That’s us,” you agree, flinching from the bright light. “We're from The Graveyard Shift.”

“Who are you?” Bucky cuts in, because why should only the both of you explain. 

“I’ve been working security here for the last thirty years.” She shines her flashlight at the musty place. “Name’s Brenda.”

“Why does an abandoned hospital need a security guard?” Bucky inquires. 

“Management just underwent a shift. White collars are setting up a mall here, so they bought up the whole place, fired everyone and now they’re gonna build an all year ski world or something in there.” There’s a tick in her jaw as she draws it out. “Whole damn place is cursed. They better hope it only burns down.”

“Okay,” you drag out, giving Bucky a sideways glance. “Anyway, we’re gonna go check out the place. See if we can find some ghosts.”

“Oh, you’ll see ‘em, alright. Everyone who was collateral damage in the buyout is still in there.” Her voice is distant, arm coming to rest on her hip.  “You’ll have to hit up specific rooms. Y’all got a floorplan?”

“No, figured we’d just wing it.” You pause. “Hospital wing it.”

“Shut up,” Bucky replies on instinct. 

“You’re gonna be spending a lot of time in there if y’all dont know where youre’ heading. It’s a maze,” she continues, ignoring your brilliant joke. “I can show you the rooms, but I can’t guarantee that it has ghosts in there.”  

“Uhhh—” you begin. 

“It’ll cut down your time in half.”

“Deal,” Bucky says immediately, sticking out his hand for a shake.

Brenda sticks out her hand too, only to wince immediately, following it up with a curse.

“What’s wrong?” you interject.

“Damn back’s killing me,” she mutters. “You’d think death would stop the pain, but it’s not let up yet. Come on then.”

Both of your eyebrows knit together at her statement, but she leaves no room for a reply as she marches inward, one hand on the small of her spine. 

Bucky elects to use his phone flashlight, as if he keeps that shit charged above 40% at any given point of time. If anything is not going to make it out of the night alive, it was that thing. 

The air inside is stale and heavy, filled with the scent of mildew and old, rusted metal. All three of your footsteps echo in the silence, reverberating through empty halls with each cautious step. The moonlight  in conjunction with the flashlight casts long, unsettling shadows. The faint taste of dust lingers in the back of Bucky’s throat that he cannot get rid of. 

“Y’all gonna sleep in here tonight?” Brenda pipes up, swinging her flashlight around.

You look at Bucky with a grin that’s alarming.

His face immediately pulls into one of “What the fuck”

“No, we aren’t,” you announce instead. “But do people do that often?”

“You’d be surprised,” she comments. “You’re not the first folks we’ve had here with those fancy shmancy gadgets.”

“That explains how you have a tour all planned.” 

“We get a bunch of you every couple of months.”

“Who is ‘we’?” Bucky cuts in.

She pays him no need. “Y’all run a podcast?”

Bucky looks personally affronted. “No, we do not.”

“We run a YouTube channel,” you offer instead. “It’s for ghosts and stuff.”

“I see,” she considers, tone thoughtful. “So, this will go up online?” 

“Unfortunately,” Bucky murmurs.

“Have you caught ghosts before?”

“Not even one–”

“Several,” you chirp. “And we have a witch cat. Her name’s Alpine.”

Bucky narrows his eyes at you. “Since when is her name Alpine?”

“I gave her a bunch of options and she told me she liked that best.”

“The cat can’t talk.”

“To you. She and I chat shit everyday,” you dish back. “She hates that stupid fern in your room, she says it smells.”

That fucking fern was not even his idea. But Sam got it for him when he moved in, so there was a zero percent chance it would be leaving any time soon. 

“Tell her to fuck off.”

“Y’all got a large following?” Brenda interrupts.

“Building towards it.” You look at her before looking at Bucky. “Once we hit a sizable amount and Bucky becomes an official internet boyfriend, we’ll stop the series.”

He sends you a withering look. “We’ll be doing this till I die.”

“Nonsense, everyone loves you,” you dismiss. “You’re a pretty boy and extremely irritable. They think you’re hilarious.”

 His nose twitches, and he feels the need to clear his throat. 

“Your camera records ghosts?” Brenda asks again. 

“We’ve got a bunch of devices. We’ll catch it,” you sound confident. 

“Great, because here’s the first stop,” she says, pressing her shoulder onto a double door.

The door groans as she pushes, its hinges protesting with a long, rusty screech, the cold metal heavy under her hand. A stale gust of air hits your face, carrying the faint smell of rot as the door finally gives way.

She steps back with a small huff, stretching her back with a small, “Shit.”

The pale blue walls had turned greenish, wallpaper peeling away. Counters were covered with a thin layer of dust. Old tools laid unused on the surgical table, once stainless steel but now rusted. 

“A lotta deaths happened in this operating theatre,” she imparts after a bout of stretching. “They thought this place was cursed for a while.” 

The sterile, tiled walls are cracked and chipped, and the old surgical lights hang dim, their bulbs long burned out. The air still lingers with antiseptic that’s long since turned sour.

Bucky feels a little too acquainted with this setting. 

He doesn’t even realise his silence is palpable until you nudge his side, drawing his attention sharply back to you. 

“You doin’ okay?” you whisper.  

“Fine,” he says, tearing his eyes away from the tools and towards you.

It only twists his stomach a little. It makes him think of how different his reactions used to be even a few years go. 

“Old, dingy hospitals may not have been the best idea,” you admit to him, using the flashlight to shine a light in the corner. 

It occurs to him a second later once he forces himself to compartmentalise. 

“You okay?” he asks, voice low. 

“Yeah,” you reply, slowly looking around. “Just looks like my nursery.”

A small crease forms between his eyebrows. 

“Not gonna lie, mine was way prettier. Lot more mould on the walls,” you continue, tone light. “You know, timeless decor.”

His nose lets out a small exhale in the form of a laugh. “Leviathan not into blood stain wallpaper?”

“Couldn’t afford it. Fuckin’ place kept referring to itself as Hydra’s sister org but had none of the budget,” you say, swiping a finger across the dust. “You’d think that at least some of the people that left would give alumni donations, but no.”

Bucky snickers at jokes literally no one else would laugh at. It feels good for once, not to feel the need to censor himself to make others less uncomfortable. 

You take a step forward, camera following behind you. 

You shine the flashlight around the room, noting all the surgical trays piled together. 

But something flashes on the ceiling. 

You swing your flashlight toward it immediately, only for the table beside you a few inches away to start rolling, making a loud whining noise as it did, snapping your attention towards it.  

By the time you finally bring the light back up towards the ceiling, it’s gone. 

“What the–” you mumble. 

“What?” Bucky asks, looking up from where he was scrolling through his phone. 

“Could’a sworn I saw–” you frown at the empty space now, only an old defunct looking camera staring back at you. 

“Red eyes?” Brenda inquires, looking at you. “Yeah, that happens.”

Bucky glances up at you, and then the wall. “Probably just the lens glare.”

You scrunch up your face at her. “How’d you know it was red eyes?” 

“That’d be the spirit of ol’ Doctor Damon, chief of neuro,” she says. “You’ll find him here or his cabin, but that’s a few floors away. He never liked climbing the stairs.” 

“Right,” Bucky acknowledges monotonously. 

“When he worked here, he spent so long in surgery that his eyes were always bloodshot. One day he just dropped dead from exhaustion,” Brenda explains. “So his spirit walks around here, red eyes, wheeling surgery tables waiting for the next patient.”

“What’s he doing on the ceiling?” Bucky questions, going back to his phone. “He did his surgeries suspended midair?” 

“Are you trying to gatekeep the ceiling?” you scoff. “Have you never seen Spiderman hanging upside down for fun?” 

Bucky finally lifts his sight from the phone. “The doctor is not an insect superhero, he would have no reason to be hanging upside down–”

“How would you know if he’s a superhero or not? What if he was bitten by a bat?” you challenge. “Like a bat…guy. Batman.”

He jeers. “Then he’s got a stupid codename.”

“Oh, and Captain America is poetic genius.”

“At least Sam has a codename, where’s yours?” 

You narrow your eyes at him. “Maybe you should have paid attention when your mother was screaming it las-”

“Shall we move on?” Brenda asks calmly. 

“Yes,” the both of you reply simultaneously. 

She doesn’t even bother looking at you, almost as if she’d seen it all in her lifetime. 

“Besides, sometimes you can see him sitting on one of the operating tables. He doesn’t just hang out on the ceiling like… bat…man,” she explains, leading the way back out. 

“See?” 

“See what?” you ask. 

“Nothing,” he replies. “There’s nothing to see. That’s the fuckin’ point.”

You shove him lightly. 

Bucky bites back a grin.

_____

The morgue is silent. 

The ceiling is low and chipped, streaked with stains of old water damage, the paint fallen away in patches. 

Against one wall, old, disused morgue drawers stand open and half-broken, the once-sleek stainless steel now speckled with rust. Some of the drawers are bent out of shape, while others are stuck, sealed tight from years of neglect. Inside some of the open drawers, tattered, yellowed tags hang loosely from the handles, swaying gently as the chill air moves through the room.

“This room’s self explanatory,” she says. “Sometimes, you can hear spirits still trying to claw their way out of the drawers but they never open.”

“Skill issue,” Bucky mumbles under his breath.

“Shut up, oh my God,” you whisper-yell, still mouth pulling into a thin line to stop from laughing. 

“What?” Brenda asks, suddenly from near the drawers. 

You had no idea when she even went there. 

“Nothing,” you reply, before thoughtfully asking, “Bucky, truth or dare?”

“No.”

“Dare it is.” You shine a flashlight at one of the closed drawers. “I’ll give you twenty bucks if you get in one of them for a few seconds. Let’s see if the ghosts come at you.”

“You're deranged,” he replies, incredulous. 

“It’s for science,” you insist. “How else will you know for sure?”

“I’m sure it’ll be comfortable,” Brenda quips. “Like a coffin.”

The both of you look at her together in silence.

She shrugs. “It’s what I’ve heard from them.” 

You look at her for a second more, before turning to Bucky. “Anyway, if you want I’ll come lie in there with you.”

“How does that make it better?” he exclaims. “I am not lying in the morgue.”

“Even if I’m in there with you?”

“That’s even worse–”

There’s a loud knock from one of the drawers on Brenda’s side. She looks down at it, almost like she was expecting it. Soon, there are further loud thuds that come from inside the remaining drawers. 

“Hey, Magda,” she calls, before more knocks come from inside. “You’ve got visitors. Say hello.”

You grab the spirit box from behind Bucky’s ear and hold it in the direction of the wall. Nothing registers.

“Animals,” he answers the question hanging in the air calmly. 

“The spirits?” Brenda replies. “They’re not gonna like that.”

Sure enough, a few of the drawers start rattling on their own accord.

You look at Bucky with an eyebrow raised.

“What?” he carps. “I’m not gonna go lie down in there, if that’s what you want.”

“Come on, take one for the team,” you whine. 

“You take one for the team.” 

“I’m literally the one pulling all the weight around here. You do it.”

Bucky doesn’t agree with you on the last part, but the first one is undisputably right. He makes a mental note to start contributing a fuckton more if he plans on continuing on in the series. 

The rattling around comes to a halt eventually. 

“If none of you want to get in there, should we move to the next one?” Brenda points to the door. 

“Yes, please,” you confirm, sending Bucky a glare.

She leads the way up the stairs while you both follow, bickering and shoving lightly.

Once upstairs, Bucky glances down the hall, only to  see a large double door that is noticeably different from the rest you’ve seen so far. There’s a fading rainbow drawn on the front, little footsteps painted onto the floor leading towards it.

Bucky hesitates, steps faltering. “Is that the children’s ward?”

“Yes,” Brenda looks over her shoulder briefly. 

For a second, he wonders. Whether it was worth a shot. He hadn’t heard from her since the incident at the house, and the tarot cards have been suggesting nothing but reasons to believe she may actually be there.  

“Are we going to check that out?” he asks. 

“No, there’s nothing there,” she shrugs it off. “No spirits. I’ve asked the others too.” 

Bucky shifts uncomfortably. “Are you sure?”

You shoot him an odd look that he refuses to meet. 

“Yep. Next stop’s the other way.”

Bucky spares the doors another long look, before traversing down the hallway with you. 

“Why do you wanna go to the children’s ward?” you query, voice low. 

“Just thought it was worth checking out,” he replies, voice steady.  

“We can always make a run for it and go check.”

“No,” he says, giving you a curt shake of his head, “it’s alright.”

“We’re right down this way,” Brenda calls, turning a corner and disappearing out of sight.

“Coming!” you call back before spinning to Bucky. “Hey.”

“What?” he responds, moving at his own brisk pace. 

You tug him back with you with force. 

“What are you doing–’ he hisses.

You link your arm with Bucky’s, pulling him along with you as you walk, shutting him up. He eyes your elbow looped with his and the proximity with which you walked beside him and all of a sudden, the back of his neck feels quite warm, extending down to his chest.

“I think Brenda’s a ghost,” you tell him casually.

Bucky stops in his path, drawn very much back to reality. 

“Keep walking,” you grit through a smile. “I’m pretty sure she’s dead. Why else is she totally chill with the ghosts here-”

“Because there aren’t any. It’s animals.”

“Why is she saying coffins are comfortable? Why is she talking to the ghosts and knowing exactly where they are and aren’t?”

“I can make shit up too, look,” Bucky comments enthusiastically. “Oh, down the hall is the isolation room. You’ll hear heavy breathing because that’s where the tuberculosis patients were–”

“That’s one of the isolation rooms,” Brenda’s voice echoes down the hall. “It’s next up.”

You yank your arm away from Bucky when he blinks, a bit surprised himself. 

“Are you dead?” you whisper-yell.

“Only ‘cause the government declared it,” he sighs. “Do you know what a fuckin’ pain it is to get undead.” 

“Come on.” Brenda beckons to the both of you with her flashlight. 

With a slight shove, the door to the room swings open easily, but the smell of old paper and mildew floods your senses. 

The bed is now a rusted, sagging frame, the thin mattress long since torn and discolored with age. The once-clean sheets have yellowed and frayed, with remnants of old stains. Thin, brittle blankets lie in a heap on the floor.

The walls are bare, save for a few faded medical charts and broken instruments that were left behind in haste. The small window that once offered a faint glimpse of the outside is now cracked and filthy. The weak, filtered light that struggles through the dust-covered glass barely illuminates the room. 

“Patients who were highly contagious were quarantined here. Some of them died without family by their side, so you can still hear their cries. Some of them have problems breathing, so sometimes you’ll hear it through the vents,” Brenda explains. 

“I bet,” Bucky drags out, sending you a “I fuckin’ told you so” look.. 

Down the hall, something makes a loud sound, almost like something had crashed into the floor. 

All three of you turn towards it. 

Brenda’s face flickers for a moment before turning back to its regular calm. 

“I think someone’s angry,” she decides. “I’m gonna go check it out.”

“Do you want us to come with you?” you offer.

“I’ll be okay, I’ve known these people all my life. We’re friends,” she comforts. “Oh, sometimes if you look out the door, you’ll see shadows of people in the waiting room down the hall. They’re just old families lingering around, hoping for better results but they always leave upset.”

“Is there no way to get them out of here?” you ask.

She shrugs. “Unless you find a way to fix their disappointment, I doubt they'll leave. They’ll stick around until something improves or changes.” 

Bucky’s eyebrows furrow at the implication. If that were truly the case, and not just something he concocted in the deep, self hating crevices of his mind, then he had to figure out which part of the fucked up mess that he was had pissed his sister off enough to come back to let him know she was disappointed. 

You nod at her and she nods, spinning on her heel to exit the room, but not before she stops for a second, hand on the doorframe as she catches her breath, and one hand on her spine.

“Are you okay?” you sound genuinely concerned.

She flashes you a thumbs up, leaving without so much as another word. 

“She’s gonna come back with some bullshit about the hospital canteen staff dropping their pans or some shit,” Bucky remarks.

“Yeah no, that was me. I just wanted her out of the room so we could discuss something,” you wave it off quickly. 

Bucky stares at you.

“What? I dropped a cart. It’s not a big deal. Anyway, listen–”

“She’s not a ghost,” he states resolutely.  

“But what if she is,” you insist, a wicked grin on your face. “Imagine saying we got a ghost tour. By a ghost.”

“I can imagine saying that, yes. I have a very wide and limitless imagination.” 

“Ugh, what if we’re meant to help her find her way back?” You peer over his shoulder to see if she’s walking back. 

In the distance another crash sounds through the empty hallways. Bucky stares at you.

“I’m just making sure, it’s not like I’m hurting anyone” you insist, dismissing it. 

“You could've just closed the door,” he says, extending one hand behind him to slide it closed.

“Don’t do that,” you blurt out.

He stops, eyebrow raised.  

“I don't like when doors are closed,” you shrug it off. “Anyway, back to the point. We should totally figure out how to help her exit this realm.”

He slides the door back open slowly, narrowing his eyes at you. 

“EVen if she were a ghost, which she’s not– she seems happy here. Maybe,” Bucky comments, taking a seat on the worn out bed. “I can’t really tell.”

“She can’t be. Imagine being forced to roam the same hallways over and over again till the end of time.” you shudder. “Sounds miserable.”

Bucky shrugs, poking at the pillow, watching a cloud of dust fly up from it. “Routine sounds fine to me.”

“I’d hate it,” you counter immediately. “I hate routines. Fucking inescapable once you get stuck in one.”

Bucky watches you curiously as you shift up and down the small room. “How do you get anything done?” 

“I can get things done without a routine.” The camera follows your command, checking outside the window or the door occasionally facing Bucky. “Why?”

“Just asking,” he replies, checking the time on his phone. It’d been a while since Brenda had gone to investigate.

“And having a routine totally makes you an easy target. Haven’t you watched any assassination movies?”

“No. I didn’t like bringing work home.”

You look at him in surprise before your face splits into a smile. 

Something makes a noise from the wall adjacent to the door. 

You both look at each other, and he gets off the bed to go see what the deal is. The door is adjacent to the wall, giving him a clear look into the hallway that was still empty. 

A faint wail sounds through the vent above his head. You take quick steps towards where he was, and the camera follows suit, pointing at the grill on the wall.

You stand underneath it, spirit box raised as close as you could get it, but the damn thing picks up nothing. 

Another noise comes through, almost like someone was wheezing, before the vent rattles, stopping altogether.

You stare at it, before taking a gigantic inhale and exhaling obnoxiously, forcing all the air out of your lungs with a wheeze. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” Bucky stares at you like you're insane. 

“Well, you can’t just back down,” you argue. “I’m gonna breathe louder than that thing.”

“Jesus Christ,” he mumbles.

You give another gigantic inhale and exhale, rattling all the bones in your body, and the faint noise from the vent stops too. 

“We win,” you beam 

 “You’ve completely lost it.”

“Uh, no, I didn’t. I totally won.”

“That’s not what I–” Bucky starts but stops himself when you grin at him devilishly. 

He sighs, asking instead, “Should we go looking for her?” 

“I guess so,” you shrug. “We’re not exactly cut to be her saviours right now. I’m pretty sure she knows the layout of the hospital better than we do if she’s been haunting it for fifteen years.”

“Where did you get that number?” he demands. 

“Does it matter?” you urge. “Didn’t realise you’re a valid ghost only if you have a certain number of years in haunting.”

Bucky ignores you, taking off down the hall. 

“If you had to haunt a hospital or a ship, what would you choose?” you quip, matching his pace. 

“Hospital,” he answers without thinking much.

“Why?”

“I spent a lot of time in them,” he tells you, voice clear. “Steve’s mom was a nurse. We’d meet her there a lot when he got his ribs broken or his nose busted.”

The memory, though faint, is enough to pull a smile from him. 

“He also used to be sick a lot, so I used to come pick up his medicine for him,” he adds. “They used to know us by name because we’d be there nearly every second day.”

You exhale a small laugh. “Every hospital in the state of New York has a chart for Steve even now.”

“Fuckin’ guy just dosn’t learn.” Bucky shakes his head with affection-laced irritation. 

The hallways stretch out endlessly, dim and wide. A few doors line the walls, some ajar, revealing only darkness inside. The silence is unnerving, broken only by the soft sound of you and your footsteps.

Bucky looks over at you. “What about you?”

“What about me?” you hum, small smile still on your face. 

“What would you haunt?

“Ship, I guess,” you reply. “I’ve always wanted to be a pirate.”

“Should be your next job.”

“You gonna come with? We’ll turn it into a vlog.

“Fuck no.”

“Well, thanks for taking the time to really consider it,” you sing, not really offended. “Way to let me down gently, Barnes.”  

“What? It’s got nothin’ to do with you.” Bucky clarifies still, pausing before letting out, “I get seasick. Can’t be on water for more than five minutes before I’m throwing up all over the place. You want that in your vlog?”

It’s enough to elicit a laugh from you, that in turn makes the corner of his lip curl.

“We could always–

Right in front of him, something moves darts across the wall at the end of the hall.

It cuts you off mid-sentence too, the both of you glancing at each other before turning towards it again.

Against the glare of your flashlight, another shadow darts across the wall. 

“That’s what she was talking about,” you whisper, slightly in disbelief that she wasn't wrong. “Shadow people. Do you think they got to her?”

Bucky rolls his eyes, continuing to walk on ahead. 

“Um, hello?” you scramble to catch up with him. “Where is your self preservation?”

“Against what?” he asks stoically. 

“That,” you say pointedly at the wall, when another figure darts across the wall and disappears out of sight. 

Bucky rolls his eyes. “It’s a shadow, the fuck’s it gonna do?”

“Haven’t you heard of shadow demons? Succumbing to darkness?” you chastise. 

Bucky stops walking, standing solidly in the middle of the hallway.

“Okay,” he says, refusing to budge. 

The hall goes silent, no movement other than the steady rise and falls of your chest. 

You stare at him. “Now what.”

“I'm waiting for them to do something,” he says. “I’m waiting to succumb to the darkness.” 

“You’re so annoying,” you bite, dragging him along with you. “And I’m tired, we’ve been walking for like, eight hundred hours. Let’s go.”

“We’ve been here for two hours,” he reminds you, taking a turn into the corner that the shadows disappeared into. “You did this to yourself.”

“Fine, next time I’ll bring an electric scooter with me.” You huff. “And I won’t even let you use it.”

“Where’d Brenda fuckin’ go?” Bucky mumbles, eyes squinting into the darkness to see if there are any clues.

“Where are you guys going?” Someone pipes up from behind you, sending the hairs on his neck up. 

The both of you spin around instantly, arms clenched in a fighting stance. 

“Sorry, it's a habit to take the scenic route back.” She chuckles, unfazed. “Not a lot to do when you’ve been here so long.”

The both of you lower your hands slowly, letting out an exhale.

“Y’all ready to head out?” she inquires, coolly. “I think it’s time we all get some rest.” 

The walk back is relatively quicker, ater she leads you down a path she calls a shortcut. 

The only thing that slowls you down are the occasional stops you had to make for her back ache.

Right by the entrance of the hospital, she holds onto the door frame again in the midst of explaining who was haunting the basements. 

After a particularly hard exhale and a clamour to stand back up, Bucky awkwardly clears his throat to ask, “Have you tried this stretch?”

“What?” Brenda asks, eyes curious. 

“Learnt it in physio. Doesn’t cure it, but it helps,” he explains, craning his neck to the sides, before taking a step ahead towards her.  

You watch him in thinly veiled delight as he shows her exactly what joint to bend and in which angle, and the degree to which she had to pivot.

He even uncomfortably guides her shoulders in the strangest yoga session you’d ever witnessed. 

“Should help,” Bucky mumbles, taking a step away. 

She raises her shoulders and drops it, lips pursuing and bows raising in a look that seems impressed. The small hunch she carried wit her seems to have disappeared too. 

“Let’s go,” Bucky doesn’t wait for a thanks or anything, taking a step away from her and towards the exit. 

“Now that you’ve fixed her back ache, how do we fix her haunting the place?” you ask lowly. 

“She’s not a fuckin’ ghost, she’s fine,” he whispers back. 

“Nothing about what she’s said tonight is normal,” you argue.

The night is clear and cool when you step out, the musty scent of the building dissipating almost immediately.

“Just say bye, we’re fuckin’ leaving,” Bucky shoots. 

You sigh loudly, giving him a glare at his lack of helpfulness before plastering a smile on your face and turning around. 

“Well, thanks for everything, Brenda,” you say, turning around to stick your hand out. “We sure couldn’t have–”

But she’s gone.

“Holy shit,” you say. 

Bucky looks over his shoulder at the disturbance, before turning around fully. “Oh, fuck off.”

“I told you she was a ghost,” you gush. “You fixed her back ache and now she has crossed over to the other side.”

“Shut up,” he replies, looking all over the place for a sign of where she could have disappeared to. 

“You did it, Bucky, you helped a lonely spirit,” you cheer. 

“I did not.”

“Hey!” Someone shouts from afar, commanding your attention to the gate again. 

“Not again,” Bucky mumbles, eyes snapping shut. 

“More ghosts,” you point out excitedly. “Come on, Charon, ferry those spirits–”

“You ferry your own spirits, I’m going to sleep,” he interjects, fully intending on ignoring the person at the gate and simply getting in the car.

“What are you guys doing here?” A man pants, jogging up to the both of you before Bucky had the time to leave. 

“We were just taking a look around,” you say, sticking your hand out, much to Bucky’s displeasure. “We heard the place was haunted.”

“Ah, I see,” he replies, taking in your appearance. “Podcasters?”

“No,” Bucky replies instantly. 

“We were just leaving,” you cut in. “We already got a tour by this ghost, and Bucky totally sent her to the afterlife.”

“I did not,” he seethes. 

“She disappeared after saying ominous shit this entire evening, what do you call that?” you challenge. 

“Going home,” Bucky responds, frustrated that he was clearly not afforded the same privilege.  

“Uh–” the guy holds up his finger. “--not to intrude, but you got a tour by a ghost?”

“Yes,” you bubble over with excitement. 

“And this ghost… did they have a backache?”

Bucky’s interest piques, the irritation giving way to intrigue . 

“You know her?” you puzzle.

“Uh yeah, that’s Brenda,” he admits sheepishly. “She’s very much alive.”

Bucky would have sworn he had never been this elated in his life, but unfortunately he realises very quickly that he simply does not care.  

 “She said she was a security guard here– wait, who are you?”  you tilt your head at him, seemingly not upset at all. It reduces Bucky’s non-existent triumph even more. 

“Travis Dowell, Labyrinth Inc. representative,” he says, shaking your hand. “We’re–”

“--the company that bought the place,” you complete, eyebrow raised.  

“Yeah.” He nods. “Brenda was a security guard here for nearly thirty years. We had to let go of her when we bought the hospital. We’ve been trying to turn it into an apartment for years, but there’s a lot of red tape that we have to get past because of healthcare reasons.”

“Yeah, she told us that it got bought,” you follow along. 

“Hospital was in the worst financial situation possible. There was just no way out.” He shrugs. “But she was super attached to this place. She didn’t take the redevelopment plans well, so she’s taken it upon herself to make sure it never happens, I guess? I don’t know, she spends a lot of time here convincing people that it’s haunted so that people don’t build anything here. She’s got an apartment close by so she knows when someone’s around. You’ll probably find her there, if you want.”

“You guys know about her?” Bucky questions, crease between his eyebrows.

“Uh, yeah, we do,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “We sorta ignore her. Her schtick’s annoying, but it’s not the reason we haven’t demolished this place yet. Once all the zoning issues get cleared up, the building’s coming down. And besides, all the PR’s just gonna have people pay a shit ton to stay here. You know, novelty of it being haunted, and all that.” 

“How’d you know we were here?” you ask pointedly. 

“We’ve set up motion sensors in the place?” he replies. “You may have seen them. The red lights in the operation rooms. We know she takes people there.”

“Oh, that’s what that was,” you turn to Bucky who simply shakes his head lightly. 

“Yeah, she really goes the extra mile.” Travis shifts from one leg to the other. “There’s raccoons in the morgue that start running around if she hits the door. What else… oh yeah, she’s made a hole in one of the isolation rooms to make noises through the wall.”

Bucky wonders what will happen of all the footage now that none of it was essentially real. It made sense why she kept trying to find out where the video was going to be posted and how many people were going to view it now, as if a large number of views were going to save her beloved building. 

“So you’ll just let her do whatever until the demolition happens?” you question. 

“If it gets her to stop vandalising our office downtown.” He shrugs. “It doesn’t make a difference to us either way.”

“Right. So the real horror…” you say. “...is capitalism.”

Travis stares at you, before raising and dropping his shoulders. “Sure.”

“Alright.” You blow out an exhale. “Well, was anything about tonight real?”

“I mean, she really does have back pain,” he adds helpfully.

You turn to Bucky. “Net positive, then.”

Sure. Why the fuck not.

“Okay, Travis, thanks for this. You’ve been an immense help,” you say aloud, hoisting the camera onto your shoulders. “You can watch us on The Graveyard Shift, if we can figure out what to do with all these videos now.”

“Sorry about that,” he replies, shoving his fists into his pocket. “Good night.”

You watch as he turns and jogs away to his car that was parked a bit closer to the gate than yours was. 

Bucky plucks the camera off your shoulder and places it under his arm, even though he’s well aware you can carry fifteen of them at once.

“That was fun,” you tell him, seemingly over it already. 

“I’m fuckin’ starving,” he replies. 

Bucky should be glad then, that he didn’t bother with the children’s ward, if nothing about tonight was real–

“Travis, wait,” you shout all of a sudden. “What about the shadows?” 

“What shadows?” he calls back, confused. 

“The shadow people moving across the hall from the isolation room?”

He raises his eyebrows. “We haven't heard reports of that.”

“Fuck’s sake,” Bucky mumbles.

“Hell yeah,” you reply, knocking into his shoulder. “Haunted hospital, baby.”

When you walk into the dining room, you don’t really expect anyone to be there that late at night.

But fiery red hair pulled into a ponytail and an oversized t-shirt perched at the kitchen counter catches you off guard, dulling the arguing between you and Bucky as you argue the logistics of Brenda having a hand in the shadow demons. 

“Took you guys long enough,” Nat keeps her mug down on the counter before hopping off the chair. You note that it’s the same one you got her a few weeks ago from the flea market, the blue ceramic one.

“Oh, hi!” you smile wide, when she pulls you into a hug. “I thought you were in Lagos.”

“I was,” she replies, pulling away. “Got done early.”

“Of course you did. Overachiever.”

In the end of the common room, Bucky can hear the faint sounds of late night infomercials play through the TV. Clint’s legs hung off the couch as he lay snoring in front of it, blanket dropped on the floor in a heap. 

“Hot chocolate?” she offers. 

“I’m good, we went to the drive-through before coming back.” You beckon with your shoulder towards Bucky. 

She finally turns to him. “Hey.”

Bucky gives her a curt nod, glad that she’s back safe. 

“Why were you out so late?” She gives him a onceover, before raising an eyebrow. “Together.”

“Hospital date.”

“Video shoot,” he says at the same time, glaring at you. You shrug. 

Nat’s lip trails up into a smirk. “Put on your big boy pants and finally admit your crush?”

Bucky drags a palm down his face. “I do not have a crush.”

“If you say so,” she concedes innocently, eyeing him over the rim of her hot chocolate.  

“Are you all in on this? Do you have a quota to reach?” he groans. “Why’s everyone asking me this?”

“Who is ‘everyone’?” you sound delighted. 

“If you don’t want people to call you out on our shit, maybe don’t walk around with heart eyes,” Nat comments.  

Buck’s look is ice cold, but Nat just gives him a wink when you laugh. 

“Hey, I needed to talk to you about something.” She turns to you. “You free for a second?”

“Always,” you reply in earnest. 

Nat leads you a few steps away, hand on your shoulder.  

Bucky takes his seat at the counter, stealing a sip from Nat’s mug. Of course, it was fantastic. Overachiever.

He tunes out intentionally, focusing on the fact that Clint was splayed out on the couch with the TV on a low volume. He knows for a fact the blonde was asleep, and probably would wake up with the worst neck pain in his life, but this was the life he chose.

After watching Clint nearly fall off the couch twice, he looks away, not intending on prying on your conversation but vaguely watching the interaction out of the corner of his eye.

He frowns at what he sees. Nat’s face has turned solemn while she talks to you in hushed tones. Your eyebrows were pulled together, arms crossed over your chest. 

Bucky feels a shift in the air, but he’s not sure what exactly has gone down. 

Nat finally tells you something surely, and you nod. She cups the side of your face and you force out a smile at her, before her hand drops.

The both of you make your way back to him. He turns his gaze back to the counter. 

“You owe me a hot chocolate,” Nat tells him, before giving him a quick kiss on the temple and stealing her cup right back. 

“I barely drank any,” he retorts, eyes still trained on you.

The TV clicks off and she drags a half asleep Clint back down the hall to his bedroom while the man rubbed at his shoulders, trailing behind her obediently. 

Meanwhile, you grab a glass of water from the tap, drinking it slowly as you head towards the elevator.

“G’night, Buck,” you tell him, passing by him.

“Hold on,” he says, voice less gruff than before as he watches you, face tight, “What’s going on?

You observe him for a few long seconds, but he gets the sense you aren’t exactly looking at him. Your eyes are slightly glazed over, and your mind is… elsewhere. 

“What do you do when people refuse to let go of something you’ve already escaped?” you ask finally.  

“What do you mean?” Bucky’s eyebrows knit together tighter.  

“Do you feel like everyone’s eyes are on you?” you say, voice strange. “Like there’s nowhere to go?”

“Where is this coming from? What’d Nat tell you?”

It seems to snap you out of whatever funk you were in, at least partially. “It’s probably nothing.”

His frown only deepens. “Is someone threatening you?”

“No, nothing like that.” You shake your head. “Don’t worry about it. It’s gonna be fine.” 

Bucky stares after you as you press the button to the elevator. He isn’t really sure what to make of the what you just shared. He isn’t even sure he should ask Nat about it later on considering that she didn’t want him listening in now. 

He watches the light above the elevator light up before a ding sounds through. 

“Just so you know–”  

Bucky’s eyes snap back to you, one step in the elevator. 

“I had a codename, too,” you tell him. “I just never liked it.”

Bucky is only left staring as you disappear into the elevator, leaving him in silence. 

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Next part

[yurimother]

Fan Favorite Yuri Series 'Handsome Girl and Sheltered Girl' Licensed in English; Omnibus Release September 2024

On February 14, Seven Seas Entertainment announced that it has licensed the popular Yuri romance manga Handsome Girl and Sheltered Girl (Ikemen Girl to Hakoiri Musume). The manga is written by Mocchi Au Lait and illustrated by majoccoid.

The publisher describes the series:

When Okuma Satomi’s friend seeks her help wrangling guys for a crossdressing cafe, Satomi winds up with a boyfriend! Sort of. After asking her handsome and aloof classmate, Kanda Mizuki, to help out in the cafe, Mizuki agrees, but on one condition: the two of them must go on a date. Satomi eagerly agrees, delighted to have such a good-looking guy interested in her, but Mizuki realizes that Satomi has completely misunderstood something crucial: Mizuki is a girl! Will this case of mistaken identity blossom into something beautiful, or will the truth leave both girls brokenhearted?

Handsome Girl and Sheltered Girl was originally serialized in Comic REX from September 2019 until its conclusion in October 2020. It was based on a work posted on Twitter before being picked up for serialization. Ichijinsha published two collected volumes of Handsome Girl and Sheltered Girl in Japanese.

Despite its lack of an international release, the manga quickly became popular with English-speaking audiences and is highly ranked on cataloging websites such as MyAnimeList and Anime-Planet.

Creator Mocchi Au Lait is a pair known for their Yuri manga works, many of which have a shared world and lose connections. In addition to Handsome Girl and Sheltered Girl, they have contributed to several anthologies, including Yuri Drill, Syrup (licensed by Seven Seas Entertainment), and the official Yuri Is My Job! Anthology. Many of their works are independently released online. Their other serialized works include Yamitsuki and the currently running adult comedy series Warui ga Watashi wa Yuri ja Nai (Sorry, I'm Not Yuri) from Kadokawa.

Illustrator majoccoid, also known by the circle name Haratama, has also contributed to several manga anthologies and is currently the illustrator of Shimesaba's romance manga series Tayutau Kemuri wa Tsukamenai, which is serialized in Comic HOWL.

The complete series of Handsome Girl and Sheltered Girl will be released in English in September 2024 as a single omnibus under Seven Seas' GL label.

Source: Press Release, Seven Seas Website

[ancha-aus]

RealAgeAU Drabble - Haven

I am back with my BS AGAIN :D @spotaus You know the drill friend come over :D I can not be stopped. I have grown too powerful!! (just played dnd. Checked the chapter to upload tomorrow for my main au and i wrote a bit on a new story. I AM POWERFUL!) <- says the woman who will probably crash in under an hour lmao.

First Drabble Prev Drabble Next Drabble

We got no beta and no editing as we just go! maybe that is why these drabbles for going so well. me just kinda going and not worrying too much about the in between bits or mistakes or grammar. I just write and say that is done.. huh... writing lesson i guess. ANYWAY! back to the family :3

*---------------------*

Cross hums as he finishes cutting another wood board in the right size. He puts it with the others on the pile before checking the list he made before hand.

Cross nods as he looks towards the house "Got them all ready for the downstairs!" Cross grins as he takes a moment to just look at the house. Their house!

When Horror had returned with the news their new acquaintances had secured them a house they had all been sceptic at best, Dust had been downright suspicious.

But it was the truth! aparently they had managed to build up a good enough reputation that they had been trying to figure out a solution. An empty and abandoned farm and ground? That was too small for most to do anything with? hidden mostly by a forest?

Perfect for them!

They had gone to check it out and it is amazing! It is secure and easily to defend! Sure it is an old building but Cross and Horror can fix up the house easily enough! Dust had handed Nightmare over to Killer and had started looking around the house to inspect it.

long story short? He thinks he can fix most things.

With a hopeful plan they spend the inspection day also cleaning. That had been yesterday.

today? They took most of the old construction wood Crop and Straw had stored away and they got to work. Dust is cleaning and fixing what he can while Horror and Cross himself did contruction work.

Killer is on Nightmare watching duty. Mostly because Killer doesn't have nay skills in construction. Neither of them mind as they had been exploring their new area and territory together. Hoenstly it was adorable to see Killer walk by with Nightmare on his shoulders.

Horror walks out of the house as he takes the planks "Thanks. Walls?"

Cross grins proudly "All of them. Including the walls and the new banisters for the roof."

Horror blinks before grinning "great. thanks Oreo." nad he chuckles as Cross sputters.

May be because horror isn't wearing a shirt. Which kinda makes sense! Becuase horror is pulling a lot of old wood away and rebuilding stuff. the chances of him ripping his few good shirts is rather high. Still Cross is trying very hard to just focus on his face and skull. it is fine! No one notices!

Cross turns back to the pile he still has. it has been reduced quickly which sucks. He looks through it with a frown.

Crop stops by him with a knowing smile "Hey Cross!" he grins wider "Getting heated?"

Cross glares at him "Well the late autumn sun is rather warm!" and he goes back to shifting through his pile.

Crop nods "It is it is..." then the grin falls and he frowns "You guys already that low?"

Cross shifts through it more "Yeah but it is okay! I can probably use this to make the cabinets for the kitchen still..." still they will need to get more materials for everything else.

Crop frowns and must have made the same conclusion "Hopefully Straw gets back soon with more stuff."

Cross rubs his neck "You guys really didn't need to help this much... we already own you big time..."

Crop shrugs "That is how a community works Cross. We all help each other. We will eventually pay it back with helping them back." he smiles "We are only a tiny town and only have ourselves to count on. You heard how the deal with the repair service from the big city went. People are quick to think off us as dumb or naive. We gotta stuck together."

Cross shoots him a grin "We will try to ffigure something out... eventually." he groans "we don't even know what type of farm to make yet!"

Crop shrugs "You guys will have to test some stuff. See what works for you and your land..." he grins again "I don't think a diary farm fits you guys though."

Cross glares at him "Not funny. I swear Betty knew she freaked me uot."

Crop nods "Oh absolutely! Cows are really smart."

Just makes them more terrifying in Cross's opinion and he has no doubt that thought is clear on his face.

Crop laughs but a honk of a car pulls them out of their conversation. and. That is a giant truck. much bigger than Straw and Crop's truck.

Crop blinks "Dani and Ellie?" he raises to his feet and waves.

The truck stops and Ellie leans out "Hello! Your lovely neighborhood lesbians have brought you." she puts ahand under her chin and wiggles her eye brows "the wood."

Dani chuckles as she jumps out "Straw told everyone around town. Most people are grabbing their stuff but this was all stuff we were planning on giving to the community anyway." she shrugs "tree farmers after all."

Ellie grins as she waves them over "Come! lets see what you need! We have all types of trunks with us. They will still need some work and treatment but Dani is amazing with her magic!"

Dani grins as she gives a thumbs up "figure out how to treat wood with magic instead of the slow treatment. Most still want the traditional work but i figured you guys would be okay with this help."

Cross is unsure how to react. People don't just help them. People hate them and what they do. Tehy hadn't expected this much help and it is overwhelming "I... I... I don't know how to... We don't have money?" he is lost.

Dani shrugs again as Ellie smiles "Hey. We have been where you guys have been... well not exactly but people werent'exactly welcoming of us either... as soon as we graduated we grbabed my old car and just left. we foudn thsi place and people were nice enough to take a chance on us." she grins "We now pay that forwards. We are doing this!" she grins and winks "Will just have to invite us over for a prime tour of the farm once you guys are all done!"

Dani nods as she starts untying the many trunks "What Ellie said. the Danielle's are at your service. Now what do you need?"

Cross is still lost when Horror joins them curiously. no doubt hearing all the noise. He pauses as he takes in the sight before tilting his skull "What?"

Cross just kidna waves at the two "We... euh.. got help? And thinks? Do you know what we need?" his mind is in shambles at the moment.

Hroror sees it and smiles as he walks past. patting his shoulder before going over to the dog and bunny and having a short conversation. Horror hears their whole speech and smiles. he thanks them and explains what they need for what. The two woman listen closely before nodding and starting to organise the brought materials with practised ease.

Horror joins his side again and grabs Cross's lists. He takes a pencil and writes some tree names by a few of the items before handing them back "They will help prepare the materials. They are nice." and he disappears back inside.

Welp!! If Horror says that that means they are nice and most likely trustworthy! They get over to him and Cross explains the system he had and what they had calculated to need for each area. The two monsters nod and ask if they should start on the porch while cross continues preparing stuff for horror. Which Cross thanks them and agrees wiht.

They are hard at work when Killer nad Nightmare return. Killer laughs "Criss Cross! you are not going to believe this! The like east area just has a tiny field at the edge of the forest and part of that forest is still in our little area! better yet that means some of the forest animals are like right there!" then he notices the guests and grows quiet "oh... hello." His hold on Nightmare's leg tightens.

Ngihtmare tilts his tiny skull at the two monsters "Dani and Ellie... right?"

Ellie coos as Dani grins "Good memory. I can't imagine remembering all the new faces you meet only once is easy." and she finishes her spell on a piece of wood which Ellie pulls over to cut.

Nightmare shrugs as he hugs Killer's skull "good memory..."

KIller nods as he glances at Cross "Sooooo... Hello Lovely ladies!" he grins "What brings you here?"

Dani raises a piece of wood "Neighborhoodly friendliness." and she continues with her task.

Killer stares at him and Cross grins "They brough over some wood" he ignores the eye brow wigglign "after they heard from STraw that we are getting the house fixed up. aparently it is a community thing that everyone helps everyone." he shrugs at the doubting look "Don't look at me. it is new for me too. Horror said it is fine though."

Killer blinks "I mean... if Horror said it is fine..." he looks at Nightmare "What do you think tiny boss?"

Nightamre shrugs and hugs his skull.

Killer nods "notion accepted. Got it." he grins at them "We are going to look at some of the other stuff Straw and Crop brought along. See what is in there."

Cross nods "Good idea!" and he watches Killer walk off with Nightmare.

Dani chuckles and looks over "Not good at construction?"

Cross groans loudly "Killer is good at a lot of things... not construction." he shrugs "It is fine. We don't want Nightmare near this stuff anyway." he is too small to lift everything and could too easily get hurt. it doesn't matter he is technically a god he is not going to have to work. They don't agree with child labor.

Dani nods "I get that. best to have a child safe corner for them to sit in." she turns back to the next trunk and gets to work as Ellie cuts pieces.

They work for a long time and the sun is well past midday when more people come by. They deliver some older looking furniture and more tools and items for them to use.

Most don't stay for long aside from dropping things off or asking if they needed anything specific. Some brought over some premade food for them and other snacks because aparently 'breaks are important!'.

Crop and Straw, when he returned, work on clearing the road betweent eh main road and the farm and getting some clear markers on where to go.

Dani and Ellie leave later in the afternoon and by the end of the day their group of skeletons looks back at their progress. They aren't done yet but it starts to look more like a house than an actual falling apart piece of junk.

Dust is covered in ashes and when they look at him he just says 'fireplace' which probably means he found a challenge of somekind. Then again Cross thinks he spotted Dust on the roof once or twice but each time he had looked back to check he hadn't been there.

They are packing up when Killer and Nightmare return. Killer looking very proud and Ngihtmare looking a bit more nervous as he fidgets.

Horror and him share alook as Horror looks at them, now once again fully dressed "yes?"

Killer grins "Remember how we were told most farms have a name?"

Cross give shim a look "We are aware. we also agreed we would take time to think about it."

Killer grins "True. But! Nightmare thought of one and I figured it was perfect and fine!" Ngihtmare shoots him a glare and crosses his tiny arms.

Dust tils his skull "fact. Waht is the name?"

Cross wants to disagree but also if nightamre wants to clal it something specific he is fine with it. Nightmare never complains about them deciding stuff so why would they complain about this.

Nightmare mutters something but when he sees everyone looking and waiting he speaks louder "It was just an idea... Killer got excited..." still staring and he rubs his arm looking embarresed "It is silly... I thought... I figured Haven would fit. Haven Farm."

Cross stares at Nightmare and feels a bit of tears try to form as the meaning sinks in and what it implies and means. He can't stop it as he picks nightmar eup and hugs him close. Purring much too loud as he speaks "I agree it is perfect!" their home. their safe place. their hide out. their haven.

Killer grins wider and nods "Which i agreed with. So!" he pulls out a board from behind his back.

It is a name plate. It spells Haven but the letters are a bit croaked and nailed to the backboard. it are all different sizes and different colours nad Cross fucking loves it!

Killer grins "We made it together." he rolls his eye lights "don't worry i did the cutting and nailed it all together. Ngihtmare was my supervisor."

Dust looks appeased as he nods "Seems good."

Horror nods as he takes the plate and puts it by the door, too hang later "Will need a bigger one for the gate at the enterance."

Cross grins as he feels ngihtamre relax at the approval and start to purr himself. Cros sjust nuzzles the babybones.

They still have a lot of work ahead of them but that is fine. It will be all so very much worth it once it is done and they have their house to finally just be them.

*--------------------*

First Drabble Prev Drabble Next Drabble

[chocostrwberry]

Just binged your chocoau version of Miraculous Ladybug and I'm screaming and crying oh my goddd it's so good yet so tragic :(

I have a question though (and sorry if it's been asked before): What happens to Marinette after she becomes a eldritch cosmic goddess? Does she just?? Watch over Paris in a way? I know the ppl don't remember her, but are aware that she existed...

AAAHH TY TYYYY!! 🥹🥹🌈🌈🩷🩷😼🫶 I personally love doomed soulmate aus so it’s like, the perfect opportunity to make one ehehffhje

(/nay this is just a great opportunity to address this)

GUYS. MARINETTE IS DEAD.

The unification was too powerful and it killed her, destroying her body in the most peaceful way imaginable. She is not coming back!! Homegirl has been wasted!!

BUT.

It seems like a lot of yall want her to still be alive, so I am CONSIDERING making her like, drift between spaces of reality as a goddess, or at least a kind of messenger/harbinger for the kwami, especially Tikki and Plagg.

Like she might appear in future holder’s dreams for messages about the future, or tidbits of things have haven’t happened yet or what to avoid!!

[patrice-bergerons]

Work is once again super intense this week so unable to make much progress on my actual WIP, I wrote something quick — it technically comes after the current installment of the law au i am working on, so you can consider it a delicious little teaser of sorts.

It's only a tie—there is no point in making it into a bigger deal than it is. A very expensive tie, the understated elegance of which not a single soul with a modicum, nay, the tiniest sliver, of sartorial sense could miss, but it is anyone's guess with Francis, isn't it, because even the lowest bar turns into Mount Everest when it comes to him and fashion.

Besides he may have well been dressed for work already when he opened his front door this morning, in one of his dull insipid suits no doubt, and been too lazy or in too much of a rush to change. James may not run into him at all in the next few minutes. Francis had a hearing in the morning, sure, but the courthouse lobby gets as busy as a beehive during lunch hour, with barristers and solicitors and clerks running about to grab a quick bite before rushing back into afternoon sessions or rushing in from the outside or rushing back out to their chambers and offices. It takes very little to lose someone in a crowd like that. Francis may equally decide to hang back and converse with a work acquaintance he ran into in the hallway and not emerge until after James has left. It is possible. It is fine. James is not here for him. He is here because he is grabbing lunch with someone, who also happened to be in court this morning, and he wanted to make life as convenient for her as possible. Because he is a good friend.

God, he is such a crap friend.

Appalled, he stops himself, closes his eyes, and does his best to take a slow, full breath. He has missed the hubbub of a courthouse, all that noise around him, the indistinct chatter and the clacking of a dozen heels against the hard floor. It is great to finally get out of the flat, to put on a good suit and take on the world, and these…unfortunate thoughts and sensations he is experiencing are the after ripples of trauma, nothing more. He may not have had his head on straight for the last week, in a manner most unfamiliar and unbecoming to himself, but he has also barely been able to get into the shower without triggering a full blown panic attack, so there is that.

Once he almost called Francis actually, to come and sit outside the bathroom door, only stopping himself, grinding his teeth, and getting on with it because he knew Francis would come. And it would be just a tad awkward, wouldn’t it, what with the guy he is currently seeing also presently in his flat. He has not at all considered that he could go and shower in Francis’s flat instead, because that would be, in one word, insane.

He casts his gaze around the space, looking for Marianne and Marianne only, when–

"James?"

James turns around, his breath caught in his throat all of a second like a helpless, small bird.

He is here. He has found James—he always does—he is already making his way towards him, parting an undulating crowd like Moses with the Red Sea as he walks.

He is wearing the tie.

James has seen a bit of him in the past week but not much. Chris, the dear that he is, has been staying over to look after him, and Francis has apparently given up on the one man war of attrition he has been waging against the parliamentary Conservative Party, one MP at a time, for now. Possibly, for good and for good reason.

But there is no recrimination in his eyes or his voice now as he says "don’t tell me you are back at work already." Just a bit of concern and an ocean of affection. Francis is glad to see him and he isn't even trying to hide it, the bastard.

“No, I am only here to meet a friend for lunch.”

James's voice sounds gravelly, distant, to his own ears.

Is it as simple as that? When you realise what a moron you are being buy me another tie in apology—a very expensive one, he had huffed, and James has, but after everything he has put Francis through, after everything Francis has done for him– Francis is such a Labour man at heart he has nationalised forgiveness. James has to suppress a laugh at that thought, which makes him cough instead. Immediately a hand comes to rest on his arm. Gentle, steadfast—like air to him when he could not breathe. Like air to him now.

"I won't overdo it mum, I promise," he replies gallantly, doing his best not to shiver. Then, "how are you? How is your day?"

"Not bad, actually."

The declaration takes Francis by surprise, James can tell—not the words that fall out of his mouth per se, but the truth of it. Neither of them has mentioned the tie. James does not think it is in his imagination only that Francis is standing a little straighter today, charisma oozing from him in every direction. James has been trying to tell him for ages what a difference dressing well makes for one's psyche, only for his plea to fall on deaf ears. Perhaps he has finally seen the light.

"I should say," Francis starts, "thank–" but he is interrupted with the sound of a ringing phone. His phone. Bugger. He takes it out, he glances at the screen, and James knows their time has come to an end before Francis opens his mouth to say, with such a note of apology in his voice,

"I am sorry, I need to take this."

"Yes, of course. I won't keep you." God knows he couldn't if he tried—keep him. Have him. James gestures towards the sliding doors with a brave smile. "My friend should be here any minute, I will catch you back home."

Francis looks at him for another second, with his ridiculously blue eyes, like the Mediterranean on a summer afternoon, serene and beautiful and filled with light, and James wonders what would happen if he said– whoever is not calling is not nearly as important as me. Ignore them and take me to lunch. He doesn't. He may be a bastard but he is not that much of a bastard. Francis nods, answers the phone, and starts to walk again, this time towards and through the doors.

Only once Francis is gone does he stumble to the nearest bench, reaching for the rescue inhaler in his pocket because his traitorous lungs are refusing to let enough air into his body. He closes his eyes and still all he can see are Francis’s eyes, a near perfect match for the colour of the tie, of the pocket square. His hand on James’s arm. His hand wiping James’s tears and reaching for James’s hand. His hand wrapped around–

Oh, this is bad, he thinks, because there is a gaping, bleeding hole where his heart used to be.

He does not get crushes. He does not fall in love; he is not a teenager, thank you very much. Let alone with straight men.

Let alone with Francis Crozier.

He chuckles to himself. You save a man's life and this is your reward apparently. No matter. Marianne will come and find him in a minute. James will greet her then and smile and have lunch. And he will teach himself, perhaps on the cab ride back, to be for once, grateful with what he has been so generously given—and to not ask for more.

[ladykailitha]

Well Met By Moonlight Part 5

Hi guys, I want to thank everyone who commented on the most recent Royal Pain and all the people that commented on the Midsummer's AU. I saw some that I hadn't seen comment in awhile and it made me so happy to see them back. I missed you all.

Here we have more of Wayne being badass. I know it feels like he's the main character right now, but trust me it will shift to the younger members soon enough.

And I got the chapter two to work finally, so I will be linking to the original from now on.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

***

Sun down on the following Saturday saw Wayne Munson in front of the whole town. Businesses closed. Only the hospital, fire and police station remained opened and they only had the most basic of crews.

Behind him on his left were Steve and Nancy and on his right were Billy and his bride, Heather. In front of him were the five boys that had attacked Steve.

Mayor Roberts stood between the two sets holding a microphone, he too was flanked. Sheriff Danny Powell stood on his right and Jim Hopper stood on his left.

“Welcome everyone. It is a sad day in Hawkins when we have to meet like this. I know it is hard on the lives and livelihoods of the people of this fair town. But a sickness has come to this town. The mindset of those not like being othered, seen as monsters and demons.”

The crowd murmured and hummed.

“But this town was not founded on those ideals. It was founded on peace and brotherhood between all its people. The humans, the vampires, and the werewolves. For nearly one hundred and fifty years this town has stood as testament to kinship that it has fostered. Which is why it is with much trepidation I have made the decision to let Sheriff Daniel Powell go as police chief of our fair town.”

The murmurs became more angry and sharp.

“He was told by several members of this community that these five boys before me were up to no good. That they would cause harm. Vampires and werewolves alike came to your sheriff with concerns and he waved them away. Regular people such as yourselves came to him that these boys meant serious harm to the supernatural members–nay to your neighbors and still he waved them away. Is that the type of man you want to protect and defend your town?”

Sheriff Powell looked down in shame as the crowd let out small cries of distress. Because no, that wasn’t what the town wanted. Most of them had thought him a good man. But this cast doubt on that very image. If he would turn a blind eye to a threat to a supernatural person, would he do the same to a black man or woman of ill repute, just because he didn’t care for their kind?

“Jim Hopper has graciously offered his assistance in stepping back into his old position of police chief. He will hold it until it is time to elect a new sheriff and with hope he will run then, as well.”

Hopper smiled and shook his head. “We’ll see,” he growled.

Mayor Roberts smiled back. “I will now turn the time over to Wayne Munson.”

Powell moved off to the one side and Mayor Roberts and Chief Hopper moved to the other. Wayne stepped up and an eerie silence descended on the crowd.

“It appears I’ve been too soft on this town,” Wayne growled, his voice reaching every corner of the town hall without the aid of the microphone. “Hunters think they can just come into my town, my territory and hunt people like a pack of feral dogs.”

The boys were forced to kneel in front of the crowd. Their hands were tied behind their backs and they bowed their heads.

“These are the children you raised,” Wayne told the crowd. He picked up something from the table next to him and held it up. “A foot trap made of silver. Considered inhumane to animals used to trap a nineteen year old boy, not much older than themselves. Yes, Steven Harrington is no average boy, but he is young nonetheless.”

He threw a few feet in front of the crowd, it clanging noisily to ground, the people in the front leaping back. He picked up the shattered pieces of the cross they had nailed Steve to.

“They bound him in silver to a wooden cross!” Wayne snarled. He threw the pieces after the trap.

The whole crowd gasped in horror as the pieces clattered to the floor. He picked up the final object off the table and held it above his head.

It was a metal bat. Not silver, but deadly all the same. The tip was rust red. Wayne threw to the ground as he had done the others. “They were beating him with this.”

“These are your children!” he growled. “Have I not been good to you? Have I not been kind?”

There were murmurs among the crowd.

“You have forgotten you are are under my protection!” Wayne roared. “Without me the pack and coven would have free rein of the town, like the roving gangs of old. You are fortunate that the current alpha and Dominus are generous. Do you not recall the terror that ruled under alpha Jack Sullivan before I tore his pack to pieces? Do you not remember the children that were be experimented on under the Dominus Dr Martin Brenner? Before Billy Hargrove came and cleaned out the lab and the coven that reeked of death?”

The crowd was stock still. Pin dropping would sound like thunder in that hall.

“Five years for Brenner,” he continued. “Ten years for Sullivan. Mere drops in the bucket of time for someone as old as myself, but to you? Far too long. That they were able to hide from me their ills for as long as they did, was an abomination. But they were summarily dispatched when I did find out.”

The crowd became restless.

“So I have passed judgment upon these youths,” Wayne said. “The two younger boys, Joshua Bentley and Chance Nelson will learn the ways of the pack and of the coven. Spending six weeks with each sect to unlearn the hate you taught them.”

The crowd let out a sigh of relief. That was good punishment for the two boys.

“Andy Duncan will be tried as a child,” he continued. “For criminal mischief and conspiracy to commit assault. It is likely that he will be forced to spend his time at a youth facility where he will remain until he turns eighteen. Then it will be up to the courts to move him to an adult facility or release him.”

The crowd took up the murmuring again as this was a little more harsh then the other boys, but still lenient.

Wayne grabbed Jason and Patrick by their collars and hauled them bodily to their feet.

“As for these two boys,” he snarled, “the mayor wants to try them as adults for use of an illegal trap,” the boys rolled their eyes, “assault with a deadly weapon,” Patrick gulped, but Jason was still smug, “conspiracy to commit murder,” Jason was mentally counting the number of years he would get and tilted his head like it was acceptable while Patrick turned white, “and for attempted murder.”

Jason looked shocked for the first time, he didn’t think they would go for the attempted murder charge, he had been told by his lawyer that it was unlikely because of how young they were. “And because of the laws of this town are unique, they will also be tried for supernatural hunting. A crime punishable by death.”

Patrick fainted and Jason threw up. Josh who had been sitting nearby, leapt out of the way of the vomit.

“But I am merciful,” Wayne continued, slowly lowering the unconscious Patrick to the ground. “They will spend time with me for six months and then I will make my own recommendations to the judge on the charges to proceed with.”

That was when Jason fainted, right into the pile of his own sick.

The crowd’s relief was palpable. Everyone was murmuring with agreement and elation.

“Let this be a lesson to you all,” Wayne concluded. “I am merciful, but test me one more time and you too will face my wrath.”

“Go!” he barked and everyone in the hall turned and fled.

All that was remaining was the mayor, Sheriff Powell and the six supernatural beings.

“Will you being staying in our town?” Wayne asked Powell.

Powell shook his head. “No. I got a job lined up in Chicago. I wasn’t meant for small town politics. I put my own prejudices ahead of the lives of the citizens of this town.”

“You still gonna be a copper?” Hopper asked.

Again he shook his head. “No, I can’t risk making the same mistake in a bigger town. I’m going to teach self-defense.”

They all nodded.

Mayor Roberts patted Powell’s arm. “You’re a good man who made a bad decision, don’t let this moment define the rest of your life.”

Powell nodded. He gave the mayor’s shoulder a squeeze and walked away.

“There goes a deeply troubled man,” Nancy said. “Do you think he’ll be all right?” She hugged her sides.

“Chicago is the best place for him to find that out,” Billy said. “It will either consume you or learn enough about yourself to survive.”

Steve put his arm around her and she leaned into his comfort.

“I hope the town can heal from this,” Mayor Roberts said. “There has been so much pain and hurt in this town in the last decade. I’m not sure how much more it can take.”

Wayne shook his head. “This town survived two world wars and a Great Depression, it will survive this.”

Mayor Roberts smiled sadly. “It is good to have such a long perspective, my friend.” He squeezed Wayne’s shoulder and slipped away, leaving behind the three vampires and three werewolves.

Hopper scratched the back of his head, sheepishly. It was strange look on the werewolf. “I’ve never been police chief and not the alpha before.”

“I prefer it,” Billy said with a low growl. “It means the werewolves are a little more even in terms of power in this town.”

Steve nodded. “I agree. It’s better this way. The sheriff needs to be supernatural in the way that the mayor must be human. A vampire sheriff would be weak during the day and even having a thrall as deputy would divide the power in a way that would make them weak. But a werewolf being sheriff ensures that everyone has a say.”

Wayne nodded back.

“Thank you for coming out, Steve,” he said, “I know this wasn’t easy for you, reliving your trauma.”

Steve scoffed. “If I didn’t, I would look weak and open myself and the pack to further attacks. Not just from the anti-supernatural quarter either. Other packs would think us easy prey. Vampires would attack us to feed on.” He glanced over at Billy and Heather and sneered. “I don’t have the favor of the current Dominus, not like our previous one did.”

Hopper looked down at his feet.

Billy smirked. “Come on, Heather,” he drawled. “Let’s go, babe.”

Heather simpered. “Anything you want.”

Billy licked his lips slowly. “Promise?”

She giggled and they walked out, with his arm around her waist as he whispered dirty things to each other.

Wayne watched them with a shake of his head. There were some disadvantages to having such a young Dominus. With a sigh he turned back to the werewolves.

“Thanks for doing this, Jim,” Wayne said, patting his back. “I know it’s not easy to come back this job, especially since you were hoping to spend more time with Jane.”

Hopper sighed. “I just hate that I have to step up in this way.”

Steve kissed the top of Nancy’s head. “Let Hop take you home, I still have some things to go over with Wayne.”

Nancy nodded and slipped out from under his arm.

Steve and Wayne watched them go.

“I was always surprised you made her alpha female,” Wayne said thoughtfully. “Not after what happened between you.”

Steve hummed. “I didn’t have a lot of options. It was either Joyce or her and I didn’t trust Joyce.”

Wayne nodded. “Who would have you picked if you had your choice?”

Steve smiled fondly. “Robin hands down, but right now she more valuable to me as a keeper then alpha female.”

“You really do have a good head on your shoulders, Steve,” he said, his smile crinkling his eyes. “Now, go reassure my boy that kiss on Nancy’s head was friendly, eh?”

Steve frowned. Wayne pointed to the back of the hall where a solitary figure waited.

Steve shook his head. “Has he always been the jealous type?”

Wayne laughed. “No, just when it comes to you.”

Steve hopped down from the stage and strolled over to Eddie. He wrapped his arms around the other boy and kissed him deeply.

“Oh,” Eddie said with a blush.

“Yeah,” Steve murmured. “Only you, okay?”

Eddie nodded.

“Come on, sunshine,” Steve said, his voice low and gravely, “I’m going to spend all night showing you how much I’m only yours.”

“Point me in the right direction, big boy.”

The two went off, not as giggly and overt as Billy and Heather, but just as heated, and definitely more in love.

Wayne looked up at the ceiling. “If there is a god, watch over those two, please. They are going to need it.”

***

Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk ​ @renaissan-vvitch @goodolefashionedloverboi @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @a-little-unsteddie @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @itsall-taken @justforthedead89 @emly03 @bookworm0690 @bookbinderbitch @littlewildflowerkitten @vecnuthy @redfreckledwolf @scheodingers-muppet @mira-jadeamethyst @just-a-tiny-void @potato-of-the-lord @goosesister

[number1mingyustan]

Habit (part iii.) —k.sy

GIF by chogiwapadada

fuckboy!hoshi x fem!reader

Genre: fwb au, college au, fuckboy au, angst, smut

Warnings: kissing, cursing, grinding, oral (f.), face riding, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, creampie, explicit smut, angst, bad tension and hurt

Word Count: 4.1k

part i. part ii. part iv.

_______________________________________________

"Nai," you plop down on your roommate's bed.

"Hmm?" she hums, not looking up from her book.

"I'm kicking you out," you tell her.

She looks up at you. "What?"

"I have a guy coming over and–"

"YOU WHAT?" she cuts you off, sitting up and dropping the book on her bed. "WHO?"

"Calm down," you laugh. "It's just Soonyoung and–"

"SOONYOUNG?" her eyes go wide. "YOU'RE KICKING ME OUT TO FUCK SOONYOUNG?!"

You grab her phone, handing it to her and pushing her toward the door. "Yes, now he's gonna be here in like 5 minutes and I need you out of here."

"Oh hell no," she protests. "No way you're just gonna drop that bomb on me and not explain yourself. You haven't gotten laid since circa 1483 and now all of a sudden you're fucking Soonyoung?!"

You roll your eyes, pushing her toward the door. "It hasn't been that long!" you defend yourself. "And I will tell you everything you want to know later. Just find something to do for the next like hour and a half outside our room, please."

"It's like... 8pm Y/n," she raises an eyebrow. "Why the hell is he coming over so early?"

You roll your eyes again. "I don't know, he just texted me saying he wanted to see me and that he'd be over soon. Now can you please just find something to do elsewhere?"

You open the door. "Fine," she huffs. "But I want details about everything."

"Yeah, yeah okay," you oblige. "Now get out, love you bye."

"Love you too!" she calls back as she makes her way down the hall. "Have fun!"

You smile to yourself before closing the door. Now all you need to do is put on something cute before he gets here.

__

"You wear this just for me?" he mumbles into your neck. "Huh, Shorty? My favorite color in lace?"

His thumb is pressed firmly against your clit through your panties. You've only got a hoodie on over the lacy set you bought that he's pulled up, exposing the thin material to his eyes.

"Fuck," he whispers. "You really know how to drive me crazy.

You moan when he presses his thumb harder on your sensitive bud. "Soonyoung... please."

"Please what?" he lifts his head with a smirk.

"Don't do that," you breathe out.

"Do what?"

"Don't be a tease."

You don't give him time to respond before you pull him into a kiss. It takes him a second to respond, but he kisses you back just as hungrily. The kiss is rough and needy. You're pulling on his hair and his hands cup your cheeks.

With him on top of you, he pushes his hips against your crotch. His jeans are creating the perfect amount of friction against your thin panties to have you moaning in his mouth. You can feel him smirk into the kiss, so his hips pick up in rhythm as he grinds against you.

And fuck, while it feels good, but it’s not enough. You need him inside of you, filling you up to the brim.

You pull away from the kiss suddenly.

He licks his lips. "Thought I was the tease."

"Eat shit, Soonyoung," you glare.

"Nah," he smirks. "I'd rather eat you."

Moments later his head is between your thighs and his fingers are hooked onto your panties. He slides them off and tosses them onto the floor.

"Oh fuck!" you cry out.

Your back arches off the bed as you feel him lick a stripe up your pussy. He wastes no time devouring you, tongue pushing inside of you, lips puckering around your throbbing clit.

He wraps his arms around your thighs, pushing his face deeper into your cunt and holding you securely. Before you know it, you're being flipped over and sitting on his face.

"Shit, Soonyoung," you gasp.

He flattens his tongue and allows you to take over. You move your hips gently as your grind down on his face. He's moaning into you, causing vibrations to rumble through your body. Your head is thrown back, eyes screwed shut and hands still in his hair.

Your hips pick up in rhythm and speed as you begin to chase your orgasm on his tongue. He's enjoying it almost as much as you, moaning and groaning as you tug on his hair and ride his face.

" 'M so close," you moan.

His grip on your hips tightens as you ride out your orgasm on his face. Your body stutters as the pleasure washes over you. You're gasping and moaning when you cum, surely dripping all over his face.

Your chest heaves as your body stills on his face. It takes you a moment to fully come down before you lift yourself off his face. He runs his hands through his hair with a grin on his face. His entire face is soaked because of you.

He pulls your body into his. "You okay?"

You nod quickly. "Fuck yes."

You pull him in for another needy kiss. You don't mind tasting yourself on his tongue. Kissing him feels so good, it brings butterflies to your stomach every time.

He pins you beneath him and pulls away to pull the hoodie off your body. His shirt is the next to go. You can't help but stare at his toned body. Muscles bulging out his arms and toned abs visible. He's so well sculpted, there's warmth brewing in your lower stomach just from looking at him.

He reaches behind you, effortlessly unclipping your bra with one hand before unbuttoning his jeans. You help him to slide the material off and nearly drool at the sight of his hard cock in his underwear. His length is poking through the thin material and there's already a wet patch seeping through.

His discards of his underwear before planting a kiss on your lips. His silver chain is dangling from his neck as he hovers over you. He plants another kiss on your lips, then your cheek, traveling toward your ear and down.

"You gonna let me fuck you raw again?" he asks, trailing kisses along your neck.

"N-No," you moan out.

He pushes the tip of his cock against your folds. "You sure about that Shorty? No one likes a liar."

"Not lying," you mumble out.

"C'mon Shorty, you know I always take care of you," he drags his length through your folds, coating his cock with your juices. His tip teases your entrance. "Just lemme fuck you raw... know you loved it last time."

Fuck, there was no denying that. You've only gone raw that one time and it was by far the best sex you've ever had. Since then, all the times you've slept together you went back to using condoms. You're so needy today, you just might let him do it again.

"Mmph– Just put it in, please," you whimper.

He smirks. "Wasn't so hard, now was it?"

With your permission, he slides his cock inside of you. You moan out in unison at the feeling. He pushes his entire length into you with ease. You wrap your arms around his neck and legs around his waist, allowing him to fuck you deeper.

His hips find a rhythm quickly, fucking into you just the way you need him. Your head falls back into the pillow and your mouth falls open in an 'O' shape.

His arms are on either side of your head. His eyes are trained on you as he fucks you. He loves the way your face contorts with pleasure, it only encourages him to go harder.

"Feels so good nngh–," you moan. "So good, holy shit."

His hips snap back, allowing him to thrust into you harder. Your headboard is knocking against the wall with each thrust. He'd be concerned about getting caught in your room if you weren't so close already.

"Shorty you're so pretty, you've no idea," he coos. "So pretty."

He knows your body well, and you're close. He can feel the way you're tightening around him. Your breath is getting caught in your throat and it's harder for you to form coherent words.

"Shit Hoshi I'm cumming," you warn him.

Bingo.

He fucks you through your orgasm thoroughly before his overwhelms him. He watches you, admires how beautiful you look when you cum around his cock. He absolutely loves it, how tight you get when you cum for him.

"Cum inside," you moan. "Please, Hoshi."

Shit. He didn't think he'd cum just yet.

But he fucking loses it. His movements grow erratic and sloppy as he empties his load inside of you. You're so sensitive from the overstimulation. You can feel how his cock throbs as the ropes of cum shoot inside of you. It's enough to send you into your third orgasm of the night.

Your legs shake as your last orgasm washes over you. He looks down at you with wide eyes.

"Fuck," he breathes out. "Did you just cum again?"

You nod. You're breathing heavily, chest rising and falling quickly as you lay beneath him. He plants a kiss on your shoulder before pulling out slowly. You both cringe at the loss of warmth. He plops down on the bed next to you.

"You good?" he asks.

"Mhm," you nod.

"Okay, good."

He grabs his phone, checking the time before sitting up on your bed and pulling his underwear up. Wordlessly, he disappears into your bathroom and turns on the shower for you. When he comes back in, he's immediately gathering his clothes from your floor.

“You’re leaving already?” you ask.

“Yeah, I gotta run,” he pulls his shirt over his head. “I can doordash some food for you if you want, but I can’t stay any longer.”

You clear your throat. "I'm not hungry, thanks though."

You're disappointed, to say the least. You'd somehow convinced yourself that he came over early so he could spend more time with you. Things had been going so well that you seemed to have forgotten Soonyoung couldn't be tied down.

“Quick question though," he zips up the zipper of his jeans. "Since when did you start calling me Hoshi?” he asks.

“What?” you reply. Did he forget or something?

“You said it when we were going at it but like, I don't know it's kind of weird to me. Like I know we’re cool and all, but not even Seokmin really calls me that,” he starts putting on his shoes. “It’s like a personal nickname for me.”

“I’m sorry, you said—“

“Is that my jacket?” he questions, walking toward the fabric sitting on the back of your desk.

“Yeah,” you reply softly.

He gives you a look that makes your heart tighten. He grabs his jacket and makes his way toward the door. “Okay, I’m out.”

And with that, he’s gone again. There’s a bitter taste on your tongue. He doesn’t remember anything about your walk home the other night? Was it all just drunk words? You’ve done your best not to read into what he says or does too much but fuck, it’s messing with your head.

You clean yourself off in the shower and put on some comfy clothes. You’re still not tired, so you decide to play a movie on your laptop to kill time before you get sleepy.

It’s about an hour and change into the movie when your phone buzzes. You look down, seeing a text from Nai.

Nai: i’ll be home in 10

You like her message before your phone takes all your attention away. You’ve sort of blocked out the movie as your phone distracts you. A simple text back results in mindless tapping through Instagram stories.

Mindless until one story in particular makes your stomach drop.

It’s Akari’s and she’s at a party with Soonyoung. It’s a horizontal photo of them together, his arm is wrapped around her shoulders, drink in hand. His mouth his open and his other hand is held up and scrunched like a claw.

She's looking at the camera with her head leaning into his chest. And she looks so pretty.

They look like a couple.

You know they’re not, but you can’t help but feel some type of way. He slept with you and then rushed out to go party with one of the other girls he’s with.

It shouldn’t bother you, but it does, and it fucking hurts, It’s your own fault really, you weren’t supposed to grow attached to him. He made it clear from the start that there’d be no feelings involved.

And now you’re left scared of your own feelings. Had this been anyone else, it wouldn’t matter so much to you. The idea of falling for someone isn’t something you’ve ever felt worry about, it’s about who that someone is.

Kwon Soonyoung was making your heart race and that was a problem.

While he was incredibly charming and a great friend, that’s all he could ever be. A friend.

And now you find yourself wandering the halls because you walked through a door that wasn’t meant for you. You’re not built for the no strings relationship, especially with a guy like Soonyoung.

It made it so easy for you to grow attached. He cared about you, yes, but you mistook his kindness for love and it was a fatal mistake.

You don’t know when you started crying, but you did. There are tears staining your cheeks and you can’t seem to stop them from falling. What the hell is wrong with you? Why does it hurt so much?

When Nai comes home, she finds you crying on your bed. Your eyes meet hers and she doesn't say anything, simply rushing to your side and holding your body securely in her arms.

She lets you cry until you calm down enough to talk to her. She doesn't say anything for a while, she simply listens. You tell her how everything started and verbalize your feelings and fears.

It's not until this conversation that you're able to admit out loud how you feel about him. That he makes your heart race and causes you to smile. How you love that he's got a nickname for you and takes care of you. That you really really like him and you want him to be yours.

But also how he never will be yours. How you two never actually talked about what you are to each other or set any real guidelines besides no feelings. How you never talked about the possibility of sleeping with other people and the only thing said out loud is the thing you've messed up.

Nai is incredibly understanding. She talks you through your feelings, helping you to navigate and acknowledge everything. It's the psychology major in her.

The two of you talk until you doze off and it makes everything hurt a little bit less.

__

You haven't been to Econ in three days. Soonyoung texted you 10 minutes into class on the first day you were missing and didn't get a response. He assumed you were sick or asleep. But now 4 missed calls, 2 classes, and 12 texts later, he's beginning to think something's wrong and that it's his own fault.

He keeps replaying your last night together in his head, trying to figure out if he did or said something wrong. The only thing he can really think of is the nickname you called him. He can admit he could've been a little nicer about it, but you completely ghosting him because of that isn't realistic.

He decides that if you won't respond to him on the phone, he'll just have to talk to you in person. He makes his way to your dorm and knocks on the door.

"Y/n? It's Soonyoung, are you there?" he asks.

He hears a bunch of sudden movement before everything goes completely silent. The door opens, but to his disappointment, it's Nai and not you.

Nai and Soonyoung had become good friends too, and although she wasn't personally hurt by anything he did, she was still going to have your back. She had no intention of switching up on him and suddenly treating him badly, however you needed your space from him and he was getting in the way of that.

"Is Y/n here?" he asks.

Nai isn't much taller than you, and with the door cracked open, his eyes search behind her in hope of seeing you.

"No," she frowns. "She went out."

Bullshit. You must be hiding in the bathroom because he sees your phone sitting on your desk. You don't go anywhere without your phone. He knows you.

"So she's not sick?" he finally looks Nai in the eyes, playing along with her lie.

"No," she replies.

"Oh," he frowns. "She hasn't been to class in a few days and she hasn't texted or called me back. I assumed she was sick."

"Well she's not," Nai moves to close the door. "And I really need to study so if you could just–"

"Nai," he presses his lips together firmly. "Can I just talk to her? I don't know what I did, but I–"

"She's not here, Soonyoung," Nai stares him dead in the eyes.

She's got one hell of a poker face. He knows you're home, but he also now has confirmation that he's upset you. There's no point in trying to force his way in, so he gives up.

"Fine," he sighs. "But when she gets back, can you tell her I came by and need to talk to her?"

"Sure," she mumbles before closing the door in his face.

__

Soonyoung's show is tonight and he really wants you there. He knows you're upset with him, but he's hoping you'll still show up. He put a lot of effort into this and he knows you're someone who would appreciate his talents.

You've only seen him dance a few times, and never in a setting like the production he's putting on tonight. He worked so hard and he hopes you can put aside whatever you're feeling to show up for him tonight.

He doesn't care if you show up and tell him you still want your space. He'd rather it be that than you not showing up at all.

Soonyoung's show is tonight and you're debating whether or not to go. You told him you woudln't miss it, gave him your word. He's become someone you value as an important friend, and you always show up for your friends.

But sometimes, you have to put yourself first. If you go tonight and see him dance, you fear you'll fall harder. You know he's extremely talented and his production tonight is going to be incredible. But it'll only make things harder. You need your space, time to rethink and reconsider.

You feel horrible because of it, but you simply can’t be around him.

__

It's almost showtime and you're still not here yet. He's scanning the audience from behind the curtain, searching for your face. But you're nowhere to be found.

The theater is filling up rapidly, if you don't come soon you won't have anywhere to sit.

__

He's performing now and you're still not here. The show is going so well. He pushes you out of his head, chooses not to acknowledge the disappointment. At least not now, he's got a show to put on.

He gives it his all and even though you're not there to see it, he's proud of himself. He's got plenty of other people there to support him and he's not going to let his emotions get in the way.

__

You didn't show. He's surrounded by all his other friends and while he appreciates them, he wishes you were there too. But again, he pushes his feelings aside and puts on a smile. He masks his disappointment, too well. It's become a bit of a habit for him.

A very, very bad habit.

__

The next day, there's a loud knock on your door. Nai is in class and the banging on the door has interrupted your studying. You open the door before asking any questions, something you immediately regret.

Soonyoung.

It's silent when you first lock eyes with one another. The tension is thick and unpleasant. There’s so much hurt and frustration behind his eyes. He doesn’t need to say anything to tell you what he’s thinking.

"What are you doing here?" you ask.

He walks into your room uninvited and closes the door behind him. "You missed my show last night."

There's a pang of guilt in your heart when he says it out loud.

"You have been avoiding me for days Y/n. I've been trying to reach out to you and figure out what I did wrong and whatever it is, I'm sorry. I know last time I was here I was a little rude, and if that's what this is about I'm sorry. I-I didn't mean to hurt you if I did, that's just a touchy subject for me and I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. And if it's not about that, I'm still sorry. You know I wouldn't do anything to hurt you, fuck, I care about you so much."

Why is he making this so hard for you? Why is he trying so hard to kept you around? He doesn’t want what you want, so why is trying so hard?

"You can't apologize for something if you don't know what it is," you frown.

"Then tell me!" he shouts.

You can't. You won't. It'll only hurt more and what he doesn't know can't hurt him. If he finds out you've caught feelings, he'll run and it'll crush you. He enjoys the no-strings aspect of these kinds of situationships. He thinks he wants to know, but he doesn't.

Soonyoung doesn't do feelings. Hasn't been his thing since his ex broke his heart two years ago. He told you about her one time and one time only. And even then, it was brief. She's a sore subject for him, to this day.

She'd been his best friend since they were kids and became his girlfriend freshman year of high school. They were together up until graduation when she suddenly told him she didn't want to do the distance when they got to college and that she'd found someone new.

It crushed him and now in his sophomore year of college, he sleeps around and avoids all things romance. You know that you're not going to be the one to change him all of a sudden either.

"I think we should just end whatever we had between us," you says in just above a whisper.

You can see the hurt wash over his face. He sighs. "Fine, if you don't want to sleep with me anymore I can accept that, I won't force you into something you don't want. But can you please just tell me why? All I'm asking for is an explanation, Shorty."

"Y/n," you correct him.

His face completely falls. He’s always called you Shorty. Ever since he met you, you’ve been Shorty to him. You're doing this on purpose, hurting him. He knows you're self-sabotaging right now and he so desperately needs to get through to you.

"Can you please just talk to me?" he pleads.

He can see that this is hurting you just as much as him. There are tears welling in your eyes and he can read you like a book. He refuses to break eye contact, searching behind your shiny orbs for something, anything.

You want to, you really do. But you also remember Akari, and Leina, and his ex, and it stings. He never once invited you over to his dorm, he had to be the one coming over so he could be the one leaving. He always leaves and right now seems to be the time you need that most.

"I think you should leave," your voice breaks.

He stands there dumbfounded. You're seriously kicking him out?

He scoffs. "Don't do that, don't push me away when I'm trying to fix things. That's not fair."

"Soonyoung," you bite down on your bottom lip. "Can you please just... go?"

"You know I really cared about you Shorty," he breathes out.

"I told you not to call me that," you correct him once again.

He doesn't acknowledge your comment. "And I thought you cared about me too and valued me as someone in your life worth keeping around. I did my best to make you feel safe and comfortable. I thought- I thought we were friends. And that we were close enough that you'd want to talk things out if they got difficult. But I guess I was wrong."

He leaves without another word and a soft close of your door. Your chest drops and tightens. It feels like someone is squeezing your heart, wringing out every last drop of blood like a sponge. You tell yourself over and over that this was for the better.

Deep down inside you know you're not fooling anyone, especially not yourself.

_______________________________________________

© number1mingyustan - Do not repost without permission.

[lankylunatic]

What could possibly go wrong when you give a cowboy obsessed plant with an insane IQ access to a workshop and bunch of lost tech? Robo Honse is what happens Brad promptly banned him from being unsupervised in the workshop after this. He's still not sure how the hell Nai made this without anyone finding out

I've decided Redemption AU Nai gets to build a robo horse because the Toma don't like him very much (he doesn't like them either)

[gojos-thot-patrol]

Now Loading...

Some more supplementary material for the Frat Boy! Au, this time starring blorbo of the hour: Kento Nanami

Because he’s been heavy on my mind. Starting with his basic info!

Nanami grew up very middle class, not as poor as Suguru or Ryomen, but nowhere near as well off as Satoru.

He’s a business major not because he wants to, but because he feels he has too. If he had it his way, he would be a culinary student. But according to his father, there's no money in being a line cook, so accounting it is. 

Still, he hopes to use his degree to open his own restaurant one day. His father would never approve of a line cook for a son, but maybe Nanami could sell him on a business owner for a son. 

He says the main reason he joined the ABO frat was to try and make business connections, he knew that some people would hire one applicant over another just because they were alumni of the same fraternity. In reality though, he’d have more room in the frat and unlimited access to the kitchen. 

His room is full of plants. Plants of all kinds everywhere, including some herbs. It used to kinda annoy Ryomen (his roommate) but, he’s grown to actually kinda appreciate it. It makes the room feel less dead. 

Phenomenal cook who can not bake to save his life. Cooking is an art but baking is a science and somewhere along the way he fucks it up every time. Be it mixing the batter too much or too little, not letting it sit long enough or letting it sit too long- he doesn't know. He can handle box cake mix that’s about it. 

Now if you want a steak cooked to perfection with perfectly roasted veggies and the creamiest mashed potatoes you've ever put in your mouth on the side he’s you’re guy. If you want an authentic lasagna with homemade everything including the noodles and sauce, he can do that for you. Do not ask him to make bread. 

He’s also insanely good at fighting games. Every version of Nanami in my heart is a God when it comes to fighting games, there is not a universe in which Nanami exists where he doesn’t dominate at Tekken, argue with the wall if you don’t agree.

Adding to that, he’s also in love with D&D. He’s a forever DM that spends hours of time planning campaigns, hours he should be spending on his school work but shhhh. If you really want to make him swoon, offer to let him be a player in a campaign. He’d pull out a ring on the spot. 

That being said, I think it’s time to get into some relationship headcanons ;)

HE’S A TSUNDERE! Look at that man, he has such big Tsundere energy.

Out of all his frat brothers, Nanami is probably the one that gets laid the least. Not from a lack of opportunity, nay nay, women (and men) throw themselves at him all the time. He’s just picky and not a fan of being touched by stragers. 

You though? You’re different (of course you are, you’re the main character!) The two of you really started to click after you had to work on a pretty big project together. Little things you did softened his heart for you.

Small things like asking him more about his D&D campaign plans, excitedly showing him pictures of the plants that you kept in your dorm, and offering to help him out in the kitchen. Little moments of quality time and tenderness while you were working on this project together nurtured his small crush into full blown butterflies when you were around.

He finally admitted to himself he was in love with you when you beat him in Street Fighter. He wasn’t used to losing at fighting games. You bragged about using his tips against him (you listened to what he said) and laughed about the weeks you spent training to destroy him (otherwise known as taking a genuine interest in his hobbies.) 

He asked you out on a date that night and you were taken completely off guard! You had no idea the fool even liked you! He was cold on the best of days, spending more time scowling at his notebooks than listening to what you said (or so you thought.) He never contacted you unless it was in regards to your project, and most of the time you spent hanging out outside of it was just because you had become friends with his frat brothers and happened to be at the house. You mean he liked you?! 

Of course you said yes, if for no other reason than to see where the hell this goes. You were 40% sure it was a prank, but hey- a free meal was a free meal. It helped he was hot as hell, what was the harm in one date?

You saw a whole new side of Kento Nanami that night. He was warm and attentive, and fucking hilarious when he wasn’t just keeping all of his jokes to himself. 

It was a simple date. A moonlit picnic in the nearby park, one where he brought his laptop and used his phone hotspot so the two of you could watch movies together. 

That was the night when you found out Kento Nanami considered himself to be a hopeless romantic. 

When he took you back to your dorm, he walked you to the door and actually asked if he could kiss you goodnight. 

And now you’re both smitten! 

Once you’re officially his girlfriend, You’re gonna find out he’s genuinely pretty chill. Happy to give you your space and recognize you’re a person outside of your relationship. That being said, let some asshole start getting a little too comfortable with you at a part and he’s quick to throw hands.

You would think nerdy little Nanami wasn’t that good in a fight, but nay nay, he was forced to play football in highschool and will leave a bastard concussed. 

He says he’s not a cuddler, but every time you sleep in his bed you wake up with him cuddled close to you. 

Nanami loves kisses, and is always planting them on you when you’re in kissing range. Your lips, cheeks, forehead, everything is fair game. 

You’re the only person in the world other than like, his parents that can call him Kento. He’s always gone by his last name, to the point that his first name makes him feel like he’s in trouble. Only authority figures use it when they’re pissed off at him. But it hits him different when it comes from your lips. When you say it, it feels tender and intimate. It’s the closest he gets to liking his name.

He always tries to make time for you and your relationship. Even if that sometimes means that your date nights are just study dates, he always strives to make you feel like a priority. 

He’s a soft guy that falls in love easily. You may not know it yet, but he has full intentions to marry you after graduation. A fact his frat brothers are quick to tease him about, while also making him promise to make them groomsmen. 

[nyoomfruits]

where you lead (i will follow) for the wip title game!

its the gilmore girls au!!!!!!!! lando is a single dad of a 16 year old daughter and oscar runs the diner and they're so incredibly domestic everyone essentially thinks they're married.

Lando swings open the door the dinner, practically tripping over his own feet as he makes his way inside, delighted to be out of the crisp fall morning air. He takes off his scarf as he makes his way over to the bar, and gives his biggest, most beaming smile to Oscar, who has been watching Lando’s entry with a wary yet fond look on his face from his place behind the counter. “Oscar, you look beautiful today. Practically glowing. New skin care routine?” 

Oscar rolls his eyes. “Five minutes,” he says, turning his back to Lando. “Coffee’s not done brewing yet. Are you having breakfast?”

“Five minutes,” Lando laments dramatically, flopping his head down on the bar. “Might as well be five years. Why do you hate me.”

Oscar turns back to him, looking entirely unimpressed. “The machine was broken. You’ll live. Just be glad I managed to fix it.”

Lando, who had been making garbling dying noises into the warm wood of the bar, perks up. “Oscar, you are a savior to mankind and I don’t know what I would do without you. You impeccable handyman, you. You shining example of everything that’s good in the world. They should reward you citizen of the month. Nay, citizen of the-“

“Lando,” Oscar interrupts him, raising an eyebrow. “Do you want breakfast or not?”

Lando thinks about the stale granola bar he hastily shoved into his mouth this morning before he had to make a quick stop at the supermarket to accept the bread delivery. “Depends. What’s your special this morning?”

“Depends,” Oscar says, with a shrug, starts wiping the counter with a tea towel. “Is Nugget coming?”

As if summoned, the door to the diner swings open and Lottie Norris makes her grand entrance, nearly tripping over her own feet before barreling into a barstool, looking up at Oscar with big pleading eyes. “Coffee,” she says, and then after a second. “Please?”

Oscar rolls his eyes, throws the tea towel over his shoulder as he turns towards the coffee maker. “You truly are the spitting image of your father” he says, sounding very far from annoyed and very close to fond. “Five minutes. Machine was broken.” With that he disappears into the little back kitchen.

“And he fixed it,” Lando says, leaning over to give Lottie a quick hug.

“Our hero,” Lottie says with a gasp.

“Do you want breakfast, Nugget?” Oscar yells from the back.

“Yes, please!” Lottie yells back.

“In that case the special is pancakes,” Oscar says, popping his head through the kitchen door before disappearing again.

“Pushover!” Lando yells, and then, “I’ll have some please!”

“Cannot believe we have to wait for coffee,” Lottie laments, letting her head fall down on the bar with a soft thunk. “I’m going to die.”

“There, there little grasshopper,” Lando says, patting her back consolingly, wondering if Child Services might come after him for giving his 15 year old a coffee addiction. “We will survive these horrors. We are Norrises, after all. We are strong, and brave, and-“

“Dying,” Lottie interjects, face still firmly planted into the bar.

“You two are so unnecessarily dramatic about the whole coffee thing,” Oscar comments, as he appears from the back, makes his way over to the coffee maker. “I have tea, you know.”

Lando hisses, as Lottie chants “Cursed beverage, cursed beverage” Oscar rolls his eyes. “Fine. But you’re going to have to do without your usual mugs, I’m short,” Oscar says, as he pours coffee into mugs that are decidedly smaller than the ones he usually has.

“This day just keeps getting worse,” Lando pouts, as Oscar puts the mug in front of him, completely unimpressed.

“What happened to the big ones?” Lottie asks, wrapping her hands around her own mug.

Oscar pulls a face. “New guy,” he says. “His name is Logan. Hired him so he can pick up some of the weekend shifts, but he’s rather… new to the whole carrying trays thing. So he keeps dropping them. He’s broken fifteen mugs this week alone.” Oscar gestures at his empty shelf that usually holds a colorful array of big coffee mugs. “Haven’t gotten around to replacing them yet.”

“Bummer,” Lando says. “But coffee is coffee so we shan’t complain.”

Lottie, who was sporting a rather pensive look at Oscar’s mug story, snorts. “Shan’t? Dad, oh my god, you aren’t that old.”

“I mean he is turning 36 soon,” Oscar says, as he makes his way around the counter to serve other customers their long awaited coffee as well. “Practically ancient.”

“You are only one year younger than me!” Lando yells after Oscar’s retreating back, and frowns at the shake of Oscar’s shoulders indicating his laughter. “You two are so mean to me,” Lando sulks, finally grabbing his mug to take a sip of his coffee. He swallows a bunch of very inappropriate noises as the first few drops of the precious liquid hit his tongue. “God, do you think Oscar would be willing to marry me so he can just make me coffee this good all the time?”

“Yes,” Lottie says without hesitation, taking her own sip. “Hey, Emma saw a recipe on TikTok for these like, s’mores cookies, where you like, make a smores but then you cover it in cookie dough? And I showed them to Oscar and he gave me his cookie dough recipe, so now we want to see if we can make those, is it cool if we use our kitchen after school?”

“Yeah, sure Nugget, no problem,” Lando says. After all, their kitchen really only gets used to heat up frozen pizzas and make Kraft Mac and Cheese, so.

“Awesome,” Lottie says, grinning as she grabs her phone, presumably to text Emma. “Can I come into work with you to pick up some groceries before I go to school? Then we can go home straight after.”

“Of course,” Lando says, downing the last of his coffee.

Oscar chooses that exact moment to reappear at the counter again, refilling Lando’s now empty mug without asking, before disappearing in the back and reappearing with two towering stacks of pancakes. One has whipped cream and strawberries on it, which he places in front of Lottie. The other, with maple syrup and chocolates chips, ends up in front of Lando.

“I love you,” Lando tells the pancakes. When he looks up, Oscar is already looking at him, soft expression on his face. His cheeks have that signature flush they always kind of have, although it appears a little darker, probably from all the running around Oscar’s been doing. His hair is falling in the usual little swoop it does, though there’s a stubborn strand sticking to his forehead. In an insane moment, Lando considers reaching over to push it back into place but then-

“Oscar, are you going-“ Lottie starts, around a mouth full of pancake.

“Lottie, don’t talk with your mouth full,” Lando scolds. Lottie rolls her eyes and very obnoxiously swallows her bite.

“Are you going to the Fall Festival?” She finishes.

“The Fall Festival?” Oscar asks, frown on his face as he glances at the town square, just visible through the big windows of the diner.

“Yeah, it’s this Friday,” Lando says, chasing a chocolate chip around his place with his fork. “There’s a Pumpkin carving competition, a hayride, I think they’re setting up a little stage for music as well. Bunch of booths selling fall stuff, food.”

“S’mores pit,” Lottie adds, lovesick look on her face.

“You and your s’mores,” Lando says, fondly. “But yes. S’mores pit. All the good stuff.” He turns to Oscar expectantly. “So? Are you coming?”

Oscar pulls a face. “I don’t know,” he says, “It’s not really my thing I think…” He trails off.

“Aw, Oscar, please?” Lottie says, pleading look on her face.

Lando, as a frequent recipient of that particular look, sends a small thought of sympathy Oscar’s way before jutting his own bottom lip out, trying to make his eyes look a little bigger.  “Yeah, Oscar, please?” He asks. “It’ll be no fun without you.”

“No fun at all,” Lottie agrees. “Just the worst.”

“Crying all evening. Do you want to ruin our evening?”

“Tears, Oscar. There will be tears.”

“Oh for God’s sake,” Oscar relents, throwing his tea towel at Lando, who catches it with a squawk. “You two are the worst, you know that? Fine. I will go check it out.” Lando and Lottie cheer, high fiving while Oscar rolls his eyes in the background. “Now go eat your pancakes, I have other customers to serve.”

Oscar disappears from behind the counter then, and Lando doesn’t really see him again as he spends the rest of his breakfast talking to Lottie and eating his pancakes. When they finally leave, after Lottie checks the time and nearly flails off her barstool when she realizes how late they are, he only just manages to throw a quick goodbye to Oscar over his shoulder, before rushing out the door.

The wind is still cold, nipping at Lando’s cheeks. But when he glances back, sees Oscar waving at them through one of the big windows with a soft little smile on his face, he barely feels it at all.

[novasintheroom]

ok maybe this isn’t exactly what you were searching for for prince!vash au but. but.

imagine they get married, and they’re kinda awkward, don’t really know how to behave around each other, but they’re getting to it. But suddenly something happens (the king/queen dies, nai goes apeshit and disappears, or the court gets so sick of them being all “tehee what am I gonna dooo I’m married to a strangerrrr” and just sends them away to some corner of the country) and birdie and reader find themselves with a whole kingdom (or village) to run. by themselves. together. and now them getting along is not just their problem, but the whole country’s.

hope this helps <3

i'm so in love that you used 'birdie' for vash you have no idea

i can DEF see Nai going nuts. it would be canon-compliant for sure!!this definitely helps!! I'm getting a lot of good ideas from you guys, and my brain is sort of mashing them all together into something coherent. more will come soon, i can feel it!!

thank you for your input, anon! I truly appreciate it!!

[hellinistical]

After a couple encounters with a guy from the library, you get handsy after you agree to let him teach you French.

Tutor!Knives x Afab, gn reader.

Warnings: fingering, pet names, cockwarming, no protections.

WC: 2.4k

It had started as a simple thing. Simple touches with the tips of your fingers grazing each others’ hands. Occasional glances that may or may not have lingered. You saw each other maybe three times a week throughout the campus- usually in the library, where you’d find him pushing his glasses up for the umpteenth time as he struggled (only sometimes) to carry a horrific amount of books to the checkout. 

Remembering when he dropped a couple of his books, you helped him gather them up, using it as your chance to strike up a conversation with him finally, but he had beaten you to it. 

“You’re in here a lot, huh?”

Your eyes widened; his voice was surprisingly deep. The man chuckled at your reaction as if it were a normal response- it probably was. “So are you.”

“Touche.” 

You stayed quiet momentarily, looking him over as he counted his stack.

He was pretty, with lashes that kissed his cheek. His hair was soft, blonde and pushed back.

He was pretty, with his broad shoulders and slender waist.

He was just pretty. 

You hear a group of students behind you, but you can't make out what they’re saying- it was probably just nonsensical plans for the weekend, anyways. And then finally, you see his eyes as he looks up. 

He was really pretty.

Swirls of blue melted with the light grays and greens from the sun rays streaming in through the windows, and by god, you couldn't even begin to think of a logical reason for this with all your medical knowledge. 

“You’re staring,” He had a small smile on his face, his books now in bags as he extended a hand towards you. Taking it, you mumbled an apology, noticing one more thing.

His skin was hot.

***

A couple of months went by, and you learned a lot about your library buddy-turned-friend. Like the fact that his name was Naii- short for Knives. You didn’t get his last name, he didn’t get yours. Naii hated swimming but loved baths. He had a big family and wanted a big family. And he couldn’t cook for shit. He was a language fanatic and wanted to travel all over when he graduated. 

You also learned that he was very persuasive when he wanted to be. 

**** "That's it, sugar, just like that. You're doing so good for me. Can you tell me what the next sentence is?" 

Your mind was hazy, overwhelmed by the loud thrumming of your pulse in your ears as you look at the characters in the textbook, seeing the way they joined as you formed the syllables to read it aloud. 

"J'aime aller au cinema" (I like to go to the cinema.) 

“Very good,” Nai hummed into your neck as he listened to you sound out the words, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine. He had you, his pretty little student in his lap, an open (albeit slightly damaged) French textbook splayed out on "Common Greetings and Phrases", with his hands on your waist, keeping you pinned to his lap. Shifting your hips, you mumbled something incoherently, but he paid it no mind as he fixed you again for the umpteenth time. His hands kneaded the fat of your thighs as he whispered praises in your ear every time you got a word right, calling you sweetheart, pet, beloved, and the like. Thumbs drawing circles in them, Naii occasionally would pinch the inner sides, making you jolt. While he wouldn’t reward you with praise if you got it wrong, he would motivate and tease you while you struggled to understand the material. 

That being said, truthfully, he was originally going to tutor you. 

He just got sidetracked. 

A shiver ran down your spine as you felt his teeth nip at your neck, his hot breath fanning over the skin as he licked the area. Biting your lip, you suppressed a moan; Nai’s hands had strayed down to the waistband of your sweatpants, running his fingers along the elastic band as he snapped them. 

“Soft…” He whispered in your ear, as he slipped his hand past your underwear where his fingers met your labia. Trailing them along for a moment before he brought them to your lips, he pressed his thumb past them, grinning as you ran your tongue over the digit before he pulled away, bringing it back down to your pussy.

Starting to circle your clit, he moved slowly, with his thumb pressing against the bundle of nerves, and his middle and index fingers sliding between wet your folds, coating them in your arousal as he starts to tease around your entrance. You bucked your hips, a whine escaping you as he chuckled. His teeth caught the shell of your ear, and biting down softly, he hummed again.  Clamping your thighs around his wrist, your mouth fell open as he pried them open again.

He pulled back, and for a second, you thought he’d stopped to actually tutor you again. 

But he just got distracted. 

Turning to look at him, Nai clicked his tongue disapprovingly as he grabbed your chin and pressed a chaste kiss to your cheek before turning you to face your textbook again. 

“Focus, honey. Read the next one for me, please doll?” he murmured, his hand slipping under your shirt as he made quick work of your bra, pulling it off you. Your nipples pebbled from the cool air, hardening as they peaked through the thin fabric of your shirt. Rolling the bud between his fingers, you again bit your lip, your eyes trailing over the characters as you tried to make out what they said.

 "J'aime l'art et..." (I enjoy art and…)

Your voice trailed off as he slid into you, one finger at first, pumping it in and out slowly as he curled it, soon adding a second, stretching out your walls.

Groaning, he leaned into your shoulder, his hair tickling the exposed skin as he pressed another kiss to your body. His free hand went to one of your breasts, squeezing it like it anchored him down. For all you knew, it probably did. You gasped shakily, your breath shallow.

“Oh, sweet thing, relax, it’s too tight f’me to move, don’t wanna hurt this pretty pussy now, do we?”

”“J'aime l'art et la littérature.” (I enjoy art and literature)

“There we go, look at you, so smart. Pretty thing.” 

His fingers quickened their pace, and as if he already knew where to look, he found your g-spot, laughing as you again jolted. 

You felt your hips rise suddenly, and the feeling of his fingers left you as Naii turned you over to face him. He had a wide smirk on his face, pressing one, two, three kisses to your lips as he brought his hands to his pants, quickly undoing them. 

Your mouth watered, the textbook forgotten as he tugged his pants down just enough to reveal the waistband of his underwear. Your fingers were quick to tug that down, too, until his hand clamped around your wrist, a small smile on Nai’s face. His blue eyes gleamed, the light flush on his skin unabashedly resting there only growing deeper. 

“Ah-ah. Not yet, Y/n.”

“Huh? Why not?”

He only smiled, leaning back into the chair as he looked at you expectantly, mouthing ‘in French, baby’.

Well, shit. 

You wracked your brain, desperate; the sooner you got this, the sooner you would get the relief you wanted. All the while, he just smirked, running his hands down your sides, waiting patiently. 

"S'il te plaît, Nai.” (Please, Nai)

You cringed at the way the words fell off your tongue; you definitely butchered the syllables and spacing of the words- something something the phonetics were too different and you didn’t remember enough Latin or Spanish to actually enunciate some of them.

Still, your buddy-turned-friend-turned-perhaps-boyfriend (you weren’t really sure what to call the two of you at this point, considering he just finger fucked you,) smiled easily, before leaning in and bopping your nose with his index.

"Bien sûr chérie." (Of course, darling.)

Letting go of your wrist, he leaned back again, watching as your hand went back to his underwear, a dark patch resting on the fabric, his bulge prominent. You slid his underwear down, raising your hips so you could slide them down more, watching as his cock sprung free. 

Add that to the list of things that were pretty about Naii. 

“You’re starin’, dollface,” He whispered, his hand wrapping around the base of his dick as he lazily pumped it.

“Not that I mind,” Nai added with a grin. You could see his canines peak out just barely again. "C'mere, raise your hips again- yeah, like that." 

His hands were firm on your hips, squeezing the fat on them just a little as he helped you. His hands were hot against your skin, almost uncomfortably so. You paid it no mind, too focused on the task at hand. Lining His tip with your entrance, you noticed the pearls of pre, slowly dribbling out. 

Lowering yourself, you sucked in a breath as his tip kissed your entrance, warm and slick. You were slow with it, taking him inch-by-inch, but Nai didn't seem to mind; it almost seemed like he enjoyed watching you struggle to take him in. 

He exhaled sharply as you sank down on him, your walls clamping around his shape. Mumbled curses left his lips; he hadn’t expected it to be so tight. You bit your lips, half of you ashamed that you let it get this far and the other half wanting more. You were embarrassed, but it was too late to back out now. 

Looking up at Naii through half-lidded eyes, you blinked slowly, your lashes giving butterfly kisses to your cheeks as you took a deep breath, bracing yourself, placing your hands on his shoulders as you started to ride him. It was clumsy, at first. Clumsy and slow. You didn’t rise all the way for fear of him getting out, but you also didn’t meet his base, for fear that he was too big.

Your hips stuttered as you rolled them; it was clear you didn’t know what you were doing. Chuckling, your tutor looked at you with an equally rosy face as his hands dug into your hips, helping you as he steadily quickened the pace, lifting and sinking you down on his cock, splitting you. A white ring soon formed around his shaft, strings of slick connecting you two everytime you rose up, only to be hidden as you fell. 

A cry slipped past your lips- Nai had pushed you down to his base, pressing his hand against your stomach as he nodded in approval. 

“So pretty,” He mumbled as he kept you down for a moment, basking in your warmth as he leaned over, biting your shoulder. His mouth was hot, teeth sharp as they made shallow scratches, breaking the skin. His tongue swiped at the peaking droplets of blood as he kept you there, arms firm around you. 

As you tried to move, he pinched your thigh, sighing heavily. 

“Knives?”

“Don’t… don’t move. Not yet. Let me…let me have this.” his voice was shaky, raspy as if he hadn’t spoken all day- which was quite the opposite. You comply, letting him be as you sat in his lap, full of him. Leaning into his touch, the tips of your fingers felt tingly, and nervous, as if a thousand butterflies had swarmed into your body. 

You stayed like that for a time before he slowly started to rock back into you. 

“Fuck…fuckin’- you feel so- why’re you so tight still? Makes no sense…relax around me, sweetheart. Wanna feel good, too, ya know? Just…fuck. Just lemme-” Nai sucked in a sharp breath. Suddenly, still in you, he wraps your legs around his waist as he lifted you up. You gasped, bracing yourself as he laid you out on the bed, crawling over you. Blue eyes pierced into your own, though this time it was as if rings of red began to swarm in his blue hues. Nai’s lips turned upwards into a crooked smirk, leaning over you, hiding you from view as he leaned in. An unspoken question, and you answered, raising your hands to his face as you captured his lips into a kiss, your lips molding against each other. 

It was far too late to deny kisses at this point. 

He bit your bottom lip, tugging at it before swiping his tongue across, asking for entrance, this time not waiting for an answer as he pushed into your mouth, his tongue meeting yours as he rocked his hips into yours.

Moans spilled from Nai’s lips, deep and heavy as he pulled away for air, just to dive back in as if he was intoxicated. 

The dorm bed creaked, old from previous uses from previous students, the springs weary and tired. Placing a hand by your head as if to cage you in, Naii looked at you with blown-out eyes.

“Thank you,”  He gasped, kissing you again as he muttered ‘thank you’ again and again. Praise fell from his lips, ‘sweet thing”, “doing so well,”, “just like that”, “I know you can take it. I know it,”. He was starting to get desperate, his movements getting sloppy as you began to space out, broken cries hiding his words. 

A knot formed in your stomach, the flurry of butterflies in your stomach becoming an army as you brace yourself. 

“Too much, Naii, it’s too much- can’t, I can’t-”

“You can love. I know it. Look at you, you’re doing so well.”

Kissing your tears away, his movements became erratic. He was close. You were close. 

If the RA were to be walking down the halls, you wouldn’t know. But the idea of getting caught…

You groaned, eyes closing tight as you felt yourself come undone, but Nai persisted, making you ride out your orgasm, cursing as you came around him, only to return the favor. 

Heat shot through your walls as he clamped a hand over your mouth when you screamed. It was intense, how the man above you forced you to ride it out, even when he himself was cumming. 

As Naj slumped into you, he released a shaky breath, voice quiet.

“Mine…all mine, right, sweet thing?”

He rolled over, pulling you on top of him, not waiting for an answer. 

You were spent, exhausted as you leaned into his touch. Your clothes stuck to your skin. You felt gross. 

And just as you were about to fall asleep, 

The RA banged on your door. 

[little-gui-official]

❝ Hello~ Hello~ Can you hear me? Good evening fam! And welcome to Little Gui's stream~ ❞

« My name is Guinaifen! "Gui" means wood, "Nai" means to exist, and "Fen" means fragrant — rolls right off the tongue, doesn't it? I usually do juggling performances on this side of Exalting Sanctum. Remember to come see the show when you have the chance~ »

(OR: An indie ask+roleplay blog that follows Guinevere (a.k.a. Guinaifen) from Honkai: Star Rail! Info below the cut; good luck, and have fun!)

(As always, credit to @/cafekitsune for the dividers~)

MUSE INFO !

NAME - Guinaifen!

PRONOUNS - She/They!

FACTION(S) - The Xianzhou Alliance!

TAGS & ANONS !

To avoid making this post comically long, you can check out the tags over here, and the anons right here.

RULES & NOTES !

➣ As always, any sort of racism, sexism, ableism, ageism, homophobia, and/or transphobia will get you blocked.

➣ THIS BLOG IS SFW - NSFW FOCUS BLOGS, DNI. (Suggestive jokes are allowed, but watch yourself.)

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➣ Mod is new to the Tumblr RP scene (though not RP in general.) Please, be patient :')

➣ Mod uses any pronouns!

➣ Mod doesn't have a set style of RP--I'll match yours. However, I tend to default to more wordy replies.

➣ I'm down to roleplay storylines! If a fellow mod wants to work something out, DM me!

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