#got my first salt-instead-of-sugar-in-the-tea moment

[queen-mabs-revenge]

i decided a while back to label all my food jars in italian bc it makes me happy, but my apt is really central so it's often the hub before a branch activity, and my gOD the chaos

[kimsmuse]

yandere childhood friend ♡ !!

gender neutral!reader. 1.7k words. warnings for irrational obsession for the reader. i'm not sure what it is but the guy is very, very delusional. i'm not sure what to think of this piece, but this one goes out for 🤏🍷anon, i loved the yandere drummer you drew so much so i hope you like this :) !!

“here,” you bring the flower to his face but he’s still annoyed. lately, he’s annoyed by almost everything, was teenage so bad? you wouldn’t know yet. your best friend is almost 2 years older than you and only holds the position because you've been practically be forced to get along with each other, courtesy of your family being great friends.

he scrunches up his face. “i'm allergic, you should know that.” he responds, not even looking up from his homework. “make me a paper bouquet, then we’ll see.”

the first time you realized that you liked your bestfriend was the first time that he realized that romance was not his cup of tea and with you? no way in hell. he hated the idea of cheesy romcoms and pop songs, it disgusted him and he made a point of making it obvious.

but you were young, just about 12 or something, and he was the only one close enough to fantasise about, so you did - doodled hearts around his initials and yours, “2gether 4ever ♡” and made it so obvious to the adults around you that they often teased you about it, much to your friend’s dismay.

and the crush was so strong that the moment you went home, you were on youtube, looking for ways to make a paper flower, and then piecing it all together.

“bed time, now,” your mother calls out and you proudly show off your paper bouquet to her, “is that for him?” she asks, amused at your efforts to be seen by your crush. you nod.

“aw, baby, as much as i love his mother as my bestfriend, that kid doesn’t deserve you,” she kisses your forehead.

yes, there were times when it felt like your heart was breaking into pieces or however those songs called it, when you saw him around school hanging out with other girls and not even acknowledging your presence. but when you went home and he excitedly told you about the new game he was playing, you fell all over again. besides, this is what happened in the music videos, right? there will be a day when he sees you like that too, when he’ll be long over this phase of shouting “ew, ew, ew,” when his parents kiss and be a more mature guy.

you did think that. but it was always in such a future tense that it never seemed realistic enough, it seemed far, far away. and when you actually reached that time period, your family had to move away, dad got a job somewhere else.

so you left that paper bouquet, (which quite frankly you didn’t have the courage to give it to him in fear that he might mock you that he told you to make it for him and you did? what a fool…) and a letter detailing your feelings for him.

but obviously it didn’t hold much depth, as you can imagine, a preteen detailing their infatuation.

but long after you were gone, your friend started to do something which he never thought he would do, ever. he was missing you.

he missed you when he came home from school and there was no one to talk to, or no one to taunt about how much he hated a particular thing and not have you judge him. it was just so awesome on how you had never judged him for anything, because he was sure if he kept on repeating on how much he hated taylor swift to some other girl in his grade, she'd probably have flipped him off, even if she, herself hated her. that was the level of repetitive he could get.

but he missed you, making those random cakes with your mother and you ran down to him to make him taste it first and he acted disgusted. “this is the worst, did you put in salt instead of sugar?” and you still had a smile on your face when you answered. “no, i just tasted it.”

he fiddled with the paper bouquet you left him for a long while after that, thinking about that afternoon and many others like that again and again. he could just… call you but his ego wouldn’t let him. and he was so disappointed over the fact that you were talking to his mother almost every other day, but you never asked for him?

it was hurtful.

but he couldn’t just ignore it. even when it was the only thing he wanted to do, ignore you, keep you out of his mind. but even when in high school he began going on dates and dances, he kept coming back to the paper flowers you left him.

he didn’t have any allergies. he was just messing with you. he never knew you'd actually do it. just like he never thought you'd actually leave, or that he'd ever miss you like this.

when he was out of the local college, he was sure that he was going to come to you, he knew the city where you lived through his parents' daily conversation at the dinner table. you were still in college, about an year or two remaining and he looked for jobs in your area.

when he found one, he was absolutely relieved. he told his parents it was one of the best opportunities in his career and it was, just not in his career, but it helped that the city you were in was quite famous and the job wasn’t bad either.

so when he finally takes your number from his mother and calls you.

he’s so delighted to hear your voice, even though it has changed a lot. and you’re happy too! you sound really happy when you say that you're excited to meet him.

and oh, you’re right, he never considered your angle on it, you must have missed him so much! oh, poor thing, the move must have been so harsh to you. maybe the reason you didn’t ask his mom to give him the call was because it'd simply hurt too much to talk to him without being near him. right? this had to be the only explanation.

so when he moves in and settles into his apwrtment, he calls you in the morning, and you give him a recommendation for a cafè nearby, “it’s a good one, i think you'll like it,”

see! you know him so well!

he arrives there a few minutes late, but you’re already there. oh, you still love him so well.

but midway through drinking overexpensive coffees and reminiscing the old times, he chokes on his drink.

he honestly thinks you’re kidding.

“what?” he wants you to repeat it again.

“i said, i’m not in love with you, my friend, i’ve moved on,”

the friend stings more than applying sanitizer on a cut, he swears. but it was just unbelievable, you were just running after him (not quite literally, pardon him, he’s a little delusional) begging for him (again, he’s delusional) to make him go on a date with you, with the last part being true. you did want him to go on a date with you, but you respected his decisions.

yes, you did have the worst and incredibly humiliating crush on your childhood friend, but it was just all that was in your opinion, a crush that started when you were 12 because he was the only one you hung out with and spent all your time with and so you were convinced, from ages 12 to 16 almost that this was the guy you’d marry and start a family with, you’d already picked out the names for them. but the problem was? he didn’t like you back.

your childhood friend had better things to do, like all teenage guys do, ofcourse, but he was always stuck with the feeling that he didn’t want you, he physically cringed when at joint dinner sometimes both of your parents would joke about you both dating, it was just something that was unimaginable for him at that point. only at that point though.

he was too busy going out on dates with random people, unbeknownst to how much he was hurting you (because in his defense, he was just a kid and he wasn’t quite sure how deep your feelings ran).

but now? why not now?

he had finally realized that it was you he liked, genuinely. And now you say this? It was absolutely heartless, did you not even stop to consider his feelings, even for once? Did the fact that you loved him before mean nothing to you?

“why don’t you love me anymore? or are you lying? to avenge your hopeless pining and me turning you away, is that it? please, talk to me. please.”

“it was a childhood crush, they eventually go away,” you don’t know what more he wants to say to you.

“but i… but you,”

“there are no but's here, if you came here looking for me because you’re realizing your feelings almost 8-9 years later then it's absurd because did you really think i would wait for you that long? i have a life now, i have a boyfriend and.. just grow up, you have a job here you should focus on that.”

you mentally made a note to stay the fuck away from this guy, because he was spewing some crazy, crazy shit. never in your wildest dreams did you ever think he would come back and be insistent on his feelings, it was all like a fever dream.

“am i that bad..?” he whispers softly, you look up at him, he has both of his hands on the table and his head hanging down. great, he's crying now. “i'm sorry i was so rude to you before.”

“look, it's fine, okay? we were both kids and i don't even hold it against you, i didn’t back then and i still don't. so go live your life and move on,”

you didn’t think you could bear to stay sitting there for a minute more, so you got up and went to the counter to pay and without a second glance, you left the cafè.

all the while, your childhood friend is still sitting there, not looking up.

“i.. i can’t do that,” and he looks up and wipes his tears, he didn’t come all the way here just to get disheartened so easily, did he?

[bugs1nmybrain]

L Lawliet Relationship Headcanons

Meeting Him 

 You met in the cafeteria of your college. He was there to snoop around on someone he was investigating but decided to take a break and get some sweets

 He notices you because you're the only one sitting by yourself. And oh dear, oh my, there's nowhere else to sit! (How convenient)

 You're a bit taken aback when he sits down in front of you. Here's this dude with messy hair and dark circles around his eyes, sitting in a particularly odd position before you. You aren't sure what to think. He didn't even ask if he could sit there. 

 You took note of his cake in front of him, and how he held his fork with his thumb and pointer finger instead of the typical way.

 He had a cup of tea as well. He reached over to the middle compartment of the table where there was sugar/salt/pepper/jelly, and the like. And you see him take about 6 sugar packets and dump every single one into his tea. 

 All you could think was, "what in the ever-loving fuck?????"

 BUT, despite how odd this person seemed, you found his quirks a little cute and endearing

 "Are you bothered by me sitting here?" He asks, noticing your demeanor toward him 

 You didn't realize how rude you were being by staring at him

 "No! I was just a little startled that someone sat here."

 "I can move."

 "Don't worry about it."

A few moments of silence go on between you two

You decide to break the silence and get to know this strange stranger 

"So, what's your name? I haven't seen you around before" 

"Hideki Ryuga. I'm pleased to make your acquaintance. And your name?"

"Y/N"

Establishing a Relationship

After meeting each other for the first time, you continued bumping into each other at school

You try to get to know him more. You ask what his major is. He lies to cover his image and tells you "Criminal Justice."

You both took quite an interest in each other. At first, you weren’t sure why you were attracted to this odd man, but it was simple. He was different, intelligent, (sort of) polite, and unintentionally funny. There was no one else at your school who was like him. However, you questioned if he’d ever like you

As for him, it took him a few meetings with you to figure out if he liked you or not. He initially admired your appearance; the way you did your hair, the way you dressed, and your facial features. However, L naturally distrusts people, so it took him a bit to become mentally attracted to you as well.

He bombarded you with questions about yourself, particularly about your trustworthiness and intelligence. He asked what your major was, how well you did on your assignments, what your relationships were like with those around you, what you thought about current events in the world, and, of course, what your favorite sweets were. 

Once he was able to deduce that you were a well-intentioned person, that’s when he recognized he felt a little different toward you than he did with other people

While he was well-behaved around you for the most part, he found himself becoming a bit fixated when you hung out. He intensely observed your mannerisms. He would stare at you with his buggy eyes with a finger pressed to his lips, which admittedly freaked you out a little, but you got used to it and just assumed that was how he was. Little did you know, he did this out of complete admiration for you.

L is a decently motivated person, so he made the first move soon after he decided he liked you. He’s not a fool; he could easily tell that you liked him just as much as he liked you by the way you reacted around him. 

He gives it to you straight when he approaches you

“Y/N, is it safe to assume that you’re romantically interested in me?”

You blushed immediately at his question and it took you a bit to scramble up a response. A smile crept on your lips. Just by this alone, he could tell he was correct.

“Yes, Ryuga.”

He gets close to your face and softens his gaze (as much as L can, he's pretty expressionless) 

"That's good, because I like you as well." 

There's an awkward moment between you two where nothing is said 

"Y/N?"

"What is it Ryuga?"

"Would you like to be my girlfriend?" 

Instant happiness fills your soul as you're mentally processing the fact that this guy feels the same way about you as you did of him. You honestly thought he wasn't interested in being romantic. Now he was asking you to be his girlfriend

With a vigorous nod, you respond, "I'd love that."

You barely knew anything about L before dating him, and that included his name 

It takes him a while, maybe even several weeks or months to tell you that his name wasn't Hideki Ryuga 

He approaches it very casually despite it being a not-so-casual discussion

"Y/N, I have something I would like to share with you."

"What is it?"

"This information may come as a surprise to you, please try your best to process it. My name is not Hideki Ryuga, and I am not a student at (Your School's Name). I am the detective known as L."

At first, you don't believe it. You think it's a joke. 

But rest assured he's telling the truth

Admittedly you feel a bit betrayed. How could he trick you like this? But your rational thinking quickly realized that someone so renowned would have to conceal their identity, even around people they liked

It takes him even longer to reveal his full name to you. He explains that this isn't out of malice. He simply cannot risk his identity being shared by anyone. After more time and assurance that you'd keep it under wraps, he tells you his name; L Lawliet.

Relationship Headcanons

After he reveals his occupation to you, you find yourself spending time with him more. You worked on homework as he did his detective work, and he'd bring you along with him to wherever he traveled for his career, under the condition that you'd use a false identity

His love language is sharing sweets haha. He’ll share his treats with you all the time and sometimes gifts you with them

If you ever by chance decide to make him some homemade sweets, he will cherish you forever

When he isn’t terribly busy, he’ll take you on dates. They’re surprisingly a lot of fun. His favorite place to take you is to amusement parks. He loves rollercoasters (but he doesn’t even flinch at them, so you’d never be able to tell) ((this is canon according to L File.15)). He’d also probably take you bowling or something. Random little activities. 

He isn’t a big fan of PDA, but he’ll agree to hold hands if there aren’t too many people around

He won’t cuddle or sleep with you very often because this guy can go several days without sleeping, but in turn, after those days he’ll crash for about 17 hours ((also canon in the L File.15)). This is the only time you’ll get so use it wisely. 

Sometimes he’s too busy to even remember he’s in a relationship with you. He’s just so focused on his cases that he doesn’t allow an outside life to take precedence over them. Don’t take it personally.

Before you, he wasn’t with anybody before. He’s new to this whole love stuff. Just the fact that he took a liking to you is saying a lot. Be patient with him. There are things he’s not going to understand immediately.

Isn’t very good at consoling your feelings if you’re not feeling happy. He’ll try to reason with you and encourage you to analyze your feelings and rationalize them. He’ll try to cheer you up with cake. This isn’t exactly nurturing, but it’s his way of telling you he cares. 

This is going to sound sketchy, but he will occasionally lie to you to see if he can evoke a certain reaction or response from you. Especially during arguments. He’ll usually reveal the truth later, but this still pisses you off. 

While you’re his significant other, it sometimes feels like you act more as a friend or even an acquaintance. 

You have to have quite a bit of patience to be with him.

On a positive note, L really enjoys being around you and wants to be your boyfriend to the best of his abilities 

Introduces you to Watari, who’s mainly just happy L has found something that he’s interested in besides a case 

Though one could argue that you are a case for him

Flirts with you in subtle ways, typically by dry humor pick up lines that baffle you.

L can seem a little condescending at times. There’s a small chance that you’re anywhere close to as smart as he is, so sometimes it’s hard for you to catch up to him. He can be a little annoyed by this, but he does understand and tries to be easy on you.

He will help you with your homework if you ask, but he’ll try to help you find the answers yourself rather than completely hand them over to you

He likes to keep tabs on you. He cares more than he expresses to you. He wants to know what you’re up to in your life and will call or text you pretty often to check in

This may seem a little yandere of him, but if you’re in his headquarters he’ll keep an eye on the cameras you’re around to see what you’re doing. 

You guys agreed that he could set a tracking device on your phone in case of emergencies.

(But sometimes he checks it even when it’s not an emergency. He’s nosy)

Again, he’s great when it comes to dates. He’ll take you out for ice cream or to get coffee. Sometimes even a walk around a city (expect to get stares. He’s a little odd looking to most people).

In terms of the five love languages, he’s good at some and not so good with others

Words of Affirmation: He’s not very good at cheering you up when you’re insecure, but he will actively compliment you when he likes something that you do or likes how you look. He’s not shy about it. “You look especially beautiful today.” “That’s quite excellent of you.” 

Acts of service: He’s not exactly considerate and he’s used to having chores and errands done for him by Watari. He’s not going to do a lot out of an open will.

Gifts: This is something he’s very good with. Honestly, it’s one of the only ways he knows how to show love. It’s no secret that he’s financially equipped, so he’ll spoil you sometimes if you guys are at a shopping mall or the like.

Quality Time: He struggles with this because he’s always so focused on his work. If you want, you’re totally welcome to be in his general vicinity while he works as long as you don’t distract him. As mentioned before, he’ll take you on dates, but they don’t happen all the time. 

Physical Touch: It takes him a while to get comfortable with hugs and kisses, but from the start, he likes to stand close to you and sometimes he’ll sneak up behind you when you’re doing homework and place a hand on your shoulder. When he does get comfortable with hugging he’s light and brief with them, but he’s surprisingly warm. 

When he kisses you for the first time he only plants a small peck. He doesn’t know what on earth he’s doing or how to execute it. You’ll probably have to initiate it.

Once he learns the ropes a little more, he’s actually a very good kisser. I mean, he can tie cherry stems with his tongue. That says enough. 

He likes it when you dress nice. He doesn’t dress well himself, but he enjoys seeing you in cute clothing; dresses, skirts, or if you’re not into that, whatever you define as pretty. Be total eye candy for him and he’ll stare at you like a creep.

L won’t realize he loves you for a long time. Your relationship doesn’t start out as love. He knew he liked you more than the average person, which is a lot. His definition of love isn’t conventional either. He’s not going to sweep you off your feet and he won’t even say out loud that he loves you. He isn’t head over heels for you and he doesn’t consider you his other half. He just knows he wants to spend his free time talking to you and being around your presence. When he looks at you, he feels a sense of comfort that he doesn’t feel from anything else. In his own way, he does love you. Just not in the way other people would express it. 

[cacoetheswriting]

a mutually assured attachment: part two

pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader word count: 2.5k summary: trust and other dangerous feelings.

warnings: set before tfatws, therapy positive, emotional hurt / comfort, mutual pinning, mild swearing, use of pet names (sweets, darlin') mentions of food and alcohol consumption, overall just a lovely little slow burn

a/n: so turns out i posted part one six freaking months ago and this has been sitting in my drafts half finished for five... seriously cannot believe i am finally getting this out, i really hope you enjoy and as always tell me what you think!

SERIES MASTERLIST

To say you turned Bucky’s life upside down from the moment you moved in across the hall would be a vast understatement.

Not only was the brunette super soldier completely blindsided by your friendliness, generosity, and wittiness, but also by how quickly he opened himself up to you (with zero effort on your part really, simply thanks to your honest and welcoming spirit).

The two of you spent virtually every free minute together.

From morning coffee together before you rushed off to work, to walks around the neighbourhood on a Saturday, and dinner “dates” every other evening. You would either cook something or Bucky would order takeout, and the word exchange would flow naturally for hours on end.

You would tell him all about your day, mainly complaining about your quote on quote shitty boss, or you’d share with him random memories from your childhood and teenage years, some of which was seriously embarrassing stuff. Bucky would openly counter with anecdotes from his own life pre the war, and even though you’d complain none of his stories were as shaming as yours, it felt good to just get to know him a little.

An unspoken agreement quickly formed: anything else from his long life was not to be mentioned.

Lost in conversation and with mouths full of food, the two of you would divert to the couch. And usually at this point in the evening you’d convince Bucky to watch something with you.

That’s when you introduced him to Shelly, Bobby and Laura — amongst others — and he came to learn they weren’t your friends (as he initially thought). ‘Twin Peaks’ was confusing, and although you guaranteed a lot of people thought so, Bucky still felt bad for not liking something you so clearly enjoyed.

Hence why the following evening he gifted you with a small notebook in your favourite colour; “It’s so you can note everything you think we should watch together.” Your heart swelled. And when he saw the beam spreading across your features, so did his.

One Sunday afternoon, you taught him your famous apple pie recipe.

At least you tried your best.

Bucky may be a trained killer but even professionals with an enhanced attention to detail make mistakes. He misread the labels and instead of 2/3 cups of sugar, he added salt. (And it definitely had nothing to do with how he got distracted by the smudge of flour on the tip of your nose, and how adorable it made you look). By the time he realised his error, the pie was already in the oven.

You of course reassured him it was okay.

“It happens to the best of us, Buck. My mom once put salt in my tea and I only realised after I took a sip,” you tittered with a light shrug of the shoulder and a sweet smile.

Bucky returned the expression. He watched you move about your kitchen, cleaning the mess you both made, and found himself hoping the feeling forming at the pit of his stomach when he looked at you would never go away.

It was silly to feel this strongly about you. After all, he still didn’t know your name.

Yes, Bucky could admit it was odd spending this much time with someone and not knowing such an intimate detail of who they really were. But with you it didn’t feel so weird. He firmly stood by what he told you around the time he first met you: “You can tell me your name when you’re ready to do so.”.

Not like it mattered anyway, it was just a name. He’s been called by many over the years, some considerably better than others, and in the end it was a nickname he liked most.

He obviously wondered every night what it was. Oddly enough the guessing game helped him fall asleep by keeping his mind occupied and warding away any nightmares, because all he thought of as his eyes shut was you.

But Bucky wouldn’t have to ponder much longer.

You had a tough day — tough week actually — and he wanted to distract you somehow. Cheer you up in a memorable way. And having previously expressed interest in his mode of transport, Bucky knew taking you out on a trip on his motorcycle would be a great way to help you momentarily forget any troubles.

He bought you a helmet. You squealed with excitement as he gently placed it on your head. The enthusiasm so clearly visible on your features caused him to smile while  his fingers brushing your chin as he secured the strap.

But when he stepped away to hop on the motorcycle, the happy expression on your face faded. Nerves kicked in.

“What’s wrong?” Bucky asked, settling himself down on the seat.

“I don’t know about this, neighbour.”

He chuckled, “Aren’t you the one who’s been goin’ on about how you’d like to go on a motorcycle ride with me?”

“Well… yeah.” A sigh escaped your lips, “But now that I have this helmet on my head and you’re sitting, waiting for me to get on I just...”

The grin plastered on Bucky’s face caused you to bite the inside of your cheek, in an attempt to stop yourself from rambling on further.

“Come on,” he said and extended an arm in your direction, “I promise you’re safe with me, darlin’.”

With a slow nod of the head, you took his hand and maneuvered yourself onto the motorbike.

Bucky waited until you were settled before dropping your hand. And although you instantly wrapped your arms securely around his waist, he still found himself missing the feeling of your soft skin against his.

“Ready?” Bucky asked.

And it was then he finally learned your name. He didn’t think he heard you at first when it escaped your lips ever so faintly.

“y/n…” you mumbled into his ear in response to his question, “uhm- my name is y/n y/l/n.”

He looked back at you, almost in disbelief. He couldn’t really believe you told him. And here — now — of all places. And holy hell… y/n, even more beautiful than what he imagined.

“y/n,” Bucky tested the name on his tongue before the corners of his lips twirled upwards, “It sure suits you, darlin’.”

You repricoated the expression, “You think so?”

He nodded before his brows creased together, confused. “But I gotta know somethin’—”

“Well, I figured since we might die on this bike today, you might as well know who you’re dying with,” you replied, knowing exactly what he was going to ask.

Bucky smacked his lips together, containing a smile.

“We are not going to die,” he stated confidently before turning his attention to the road ahead and starting the machine.

You wanted to protest, tease him a little with a witty comment, but instead you only held onto him tighter, carefully resting your chin on his shoulder.

~~~

“She told me her name.”

Dr. Raynor raised a brow, “You don’t seem pleased? I thought you wanted to know what it was.”

He did, more than anything. He was delighted when you finally revealed what it was, replaying it in his mind that whole afternoon. However when he returned home that evening, after saying goodnight to you and watching you disappear into your apartment, an uneasy feeling rushed through him.

“It’s complicated.”

“How so?

“Because it means she trusts me.”

“And that’s a bad thing?”

Yes.

Bucky sighed, “Nothin’ good ever comes from people trusting me, doc.”

“I see…” Dr. Raynor scribbled something on the notepad in her lap and after a minute of silence focused again on the brunette man sitting across from her, “Would you like to know what I think?”

He didn’t say anything. Dr. Raynor exhaled.

“I think your neighbour telling you her name freaked you out not because she’s grown comfortable enough around you to share this part of herself with you, but because in the weeks you have spent hanging out together you also began to trust her. And that is what scares you.”

Dr. Raynor was right of course and Bucky hated it when she was right.

Yes, he’s grown to trust you. Honestly, it was almost impossible not to. Everything about you was so welcoming and honest, trusting you only felt natural.

“Do you think she is the type to break your trust?” Dr. Raynor enquired.

“No,” he responded instantly and without hesitation, causing the lady sitting across from him to smile before saying, “Then it’s important you don’t let your past hurt dictate your present relationships.”

“But how can I not, doc?” Bucky asked, because it honestly seemed like an impossible task.

~~~

Sucking in a sharp breath, Bucky entered the nearby bar you two decided to meet at for a change. He scanned the crowded room, quickly spotting you in the far corner, lost in your own thoughts. The second you noticed his approach, you waved and a wide grin graced your features.

“Hey, stranger,” you greeted him, “I was starting to think you forgot all about me.”

The brunette sergeant smiled while sitting down across from you. He hailed a server down and ordered two beers before turning his attention to you, “Sorry, I got held up at the, uhm—”

“You’re here now,” you cut in, noticing the apprehensive look on his face. Bucky bobbed his head in response.

A waiter rocked up to the table with the ordered beers. They asked if you needed anything else, to which Bucky shook his head and thanked them before once again focusing on you.

“How was your day?”

“It’s Friday, that always makes things better,” you answered, taking a sip of the liquid.

“If you hate your job so much, why don’t you resign?” Bucky queried, instantly picking up on the undertone in your reply.

“Trust me neighbour, I think about quitting every damn day but my bills won’t pay themselves and the job market sucks ass right now. It would be months before I found something else and I just can’t afford that kind of time,” you elaborated.

“Plus, even if I were to leave, I wouldn’t even know what else I could do,” you added and took another sip.

“A smart lady like you, I’m sure there’s somethin’,” Bucky encouraged, “What was your dream job when you were little?”

You chuckled. “I think my chances of doing that are quite slim, neighbour.”

Bucky raised an intrigued brow and inclined forward, arms resting on the table. He motioned for you to continue and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes.

“If we ever have a falling out, I hope you never repeat my embarrassing stories to anyone.”

“Don’t change the subject,” Bucky tittered and you shot him an annoyed glance before taking another sip of the liquid courage.

“I wanted to be an astronaut,” you finally admitted, covering your eyes with your hand, not wanting to witness Bucky’s reaction to your silly childhood dream.

Bucky pressed his tongue to his top lip, fighting back a smirk. An image of little you in a make-shit helmet flashed before his eyes. He could technically make a part of your dream come true, but that would involve talking to people he no longer wanted anything to do with.

He reached to move your hand away from your face and for a split second the two of you sat in silence, his fingers gently caressing yours.

The tender moment was interrupted by the server returning to ask whether you wanted another round.

You hastily withdrew your hands from Bucky’s grasp, placing them on your lap, while the brunette man ran his fingers through his hair before turning to decline the waiter. The whole ordeal lasted about a minute and once you were alone again, Bucky swallowed his breath and proceeded to veer the conversation away from the awkwardness that was suddenly closing in around you.

“An astronaut, huh?”

The chaffing tone detectable in his voice caused you to roll your eyes yet again before replying, “You can’t honestly tell me you grew up wanting to join the army.”

“I did.”

“Bullshit,” you exclaimed, “I call bullshit.”

He laughed, “Fine, but you gotta promise not to tell a living soul. The only other person that knows this about me is Steve.”

“Cross my heart,” you gesticulated.

“I wanted to be a cowboy.”

You pressed your fingers to your lips, hiding — or rather failing to hide — a satisfied smile.

He returned the expression and a warm fuzzy feeling settled in the pit of your stomach.

“All I’m going to say is, you should be very glad we’re going to be in each other's lives for the foreseeable future, because that is some pretty heavy ammunition you just gave me,” you teased him.

Bucky smirked. “Glad to hear I haven’t scared you off yet, darlin’.”

You shrugged lightly. “I guess I am strangely attached to you, Bucky Barnes,” you expressed.

The brunette man stiffened, all of the anxieties he’s been pushing down this evening were suddenly floating back up. His metal hand gripped the empty beer bottle a little too tight and a lump grew at the back of his throat as your words rang in his ears.

Okay, he may feel the same. And okay, he was attached to you too, he has been for some time now (in more ways than one). A mutual attachment however... Well, a mutual attachment is precisely why he didn’t want to get involved with you in the first place.

“I scared you a little, didn’t I? I freaked you out with the whole attached thing, right?”

Shifting into damage control mode, you inched forward and without waiting for a response, you continued: “I am so sorry, James. It uh, it's just an expression, p-please don’t read too much into it.”

The compassionate look on your face caused his heart to skip a beat. Although there was something else you just did that had an even greater effect on him.

“You called me James.”

Your brows creased together as you asked, “What?”

“You called me James,” he repeated and added, “you never call me by my first name.”

“Yes I do,” you protested, scrunching your nose.

“Nope,” Bucky countered with an assertive smirk, “It’s always either neighbour or old man. Sometimes Bucky or Buck, but never James.”

“Really?” you questioned in disbelief, “Never?”

He shook his head, “Never.”

You didn’t know what to say. It shouldn’t be this big a deal. James was his name afterall, so how come you’ve never used it? He hardly called you by yours, however with good reason since he only found out what it was the other day. Fuck. Why did this make you feel all sorts of flustered?

Sucking your bottom lip between your teeth, you looked back at him. The second his blue gaze caught yours, your breathing became softer.

“Don’t worry, y/n.” he began and the brazen smirk on his face slowly faded into a more tender expression, “I eh, I am strangely attached to you too.”

There was a brief moment of silence.

The longer you looked into his eyes the more your body squirmed, your muscles relaxing and further sinking you into the chair. There was something about that soft gaze of his you knew you’d never find in anyone else.

‘Attached’ was becoming a severe understatement.

“Good, because like I said, we’re going to be a part of each other’s lives for a long time, James.”

main masterlist

[pinkteapotwriting]

Healing

Wolfstar x fem!reader

Sirius is innocent and it doesn’t take long for him and Remus to make their way back home to you.

Word count: 3332

Warning: There is a food mention and brief nudity but that’s all baby

He was a shaking mess. It had been over a decade. Over a decade since you had last held him in your arms. Over a decade since you had left yours, Remus and Sirius’s shared home. Once Sirius was arrested a part of you died. Especially considering no one believed you when you said he was innocent; that he could never betray James and Lily like that. It killed you even more that Remus could believe he was capable of such evil. 

Remus did everything he could to console you, even though he lost his lover too, but him trying to convince you everyone else's side is what led you to leaving and never coming back. You remembered your blurred vision, the hot tears that spilled down your cheeks that night. The bitterness that pooled and overflowed at the thought of one of the men you loved fiercely being held against his will, while the other called you foolish for rejecting reality. But you knew Sirius was innocent and you just couldn’t live like that anymore. Where all your memories turned to ash in the fire that almost took you with it. 

So here he was, a shaking mess at your doorstep. Of course Remus had already sent an owl explaining everything, but that didn’t make his presence any less shocking. You looked behind him and saw Remus with a trunk in one hand and a lead attached to a hippogriff in the other. Remus was refusing to meet your eyes so you looked back to Sirius’s wide ones. They were so open and vulnerable and you knew without words being said exactly what this man needed.

“Remus” you called stiffly “walk around to the back. There’s space for the Hippogriff in a shed there. I’ll take Sirius in for some food and you’re welcome to join us once you’re done. Here, let me grab your trunk.”

You walked past Sirius, who was still very much so shaking in place and took the trunk from Remus and turned away briskly. Remus didn’t say anything and followed his orders obediently, too terrified and ashamed to respond at all. You walked back up to the man you never stopped loving and took his hand to lead him into the house.

“Y/N” he croaked. 

“Shhhhhhh, it’s okay love. I know you have lots to tell me, but we’re gonna get some food in you first, okay?”

He just nodded and allowed you to take him to the breakfast nook in your kitchen. You reluctantly released his hand to get him a glass of water and once you set the glass down you heard the back door open and close. Remus walked in silently and took his place across from Sirius. Not knowing what to say he just fiddled with his hands awkwardly as you placed the kettle on the stove. 

“Remus I know you’ll want some, but would you like some tea as well Siri.”

He just nodded while staring off into space.

You smiled warmly at him then turned to Remus, who still refused to meet your eyes.

“Remus” your gaze unwavering as he reluctantly looked up from an apparently very interesting spot on the table. “Two lumps of sugar right?”

“Uh. yes, thank you.”

“And Sirius only likes one. Okay, I’ll get supper started right away.”

Soon enough you were throwing ingredients in a pot to make some stew and baking some biscuits. The aroma was intoxicating for Sirius, who hadn’t had a home cooked meal in twelve years. You had always been a good cook and he found himself almost to the point of tears as you placed his supper in front of him.

You sat yourself beside Sirius and across from Remus casually as if there was nothing to talk about. Remus stared at you in awe, dumbfounded at your calm grasp at the situation. Not knowing how you could be cool headed when you hadn’t seen both of the loves of your life in over a decade.

“Please, dig in. You two look starving.”

Everything was a lot less awkward once you all had something to do. Sirius practically wolfed down his food and didn’t even need to ask before you were already filling his bowl with seconds. He looked so fragile. All you wanted to do was hold him, but it had been so long you weren’t sure how he’d changed and what his boundaries would be. What his innocence even meant for you two, for you three.

“Thank you”

Sirius’s hand found his way to yours and gave it a gentle squeeze. His hands weren’t as strong as they used to be, but at least now that he had food in his system his hands weren’t trembling. You gained the courage to look into his eyes. They were intense and sincere. Your eyes were then drawn to the bags under his. They weighed down his face heavily; what a burden to have to carry alone. 

“Come on Siri, let’s get you cleaned up before bed, yeah? Remus while I run him a bath I have some thawed chicken breast for our friend out back, if you’d be so inclined. I’ll make sure to get some more food for him tomorrow.” 

With that you led Sirius up the stairs to the bathroom and had him sit on the toilet as you got everything ready.

“I know you’re exhausted and I promise you can sleep soon-”

Sirius interrupted, “No, no it’s fine. I can’t remember the last time I felt clean. I really appreciate it.”

“Okay well I’ll leave you to it then. I’ll check in later okay.”

“Y/N”

“Yes Siri”

“Thank you.” his bottom lip started to tremble “So much.”

It didn’t take long for you to reach him and rub his arm soothingly. “Hey love it’s okay. It’s gonna be alright”

“But Remus told me everything and I- I’m just so sorr-”

“Don’t you dare say you’re sorry. Remus and I will be fine. We’ll all be fine. We just need to communicate and figure some things out. None of what happened was your fault and I swear if I ever get my hands on that fucking rat I’ll-”

You were interrupted by a soft chuckle and your hands being clasped together between larger ones. You hadn’t even noticed you stopped rubbing his arm and replaced that action with clenching your fists in rage. He then placed a delicate kiss on the back of each hand before looking up at you. 

“You’ve always felt the need to fight others' battles for them.” 

Your anger sank back down to the depths where you normally kept it hidden.

“I will be right back. You get settled while I check on Remus.”

“Okay, try to be gentle with him though. I’m not angry at him believing what he believed. I mean all the facts pointed towards-”

You left and shut the door abruptly before you had to hear more of what he had to say. Your wounds never healed and you weren’t about to let him rub salt in them. Everything had been so much to take and just waiting to burst out through the surface, but you had to take care of your boys. Well, they weren’t your boys anymore, but you knew you had to help them pick up the pieces, whether they were yours or not. So you tried your best to strengthen your will as you made your way down the stairs, heart pounding heavily once you reached the doorway into the kitchen.

Your resolve however, broke, as your heart settled and warmed once you saw the sight in front of you. There was Remus drying the dishes as he hummed quietly to himself. Relieved that he didn’t sense your presence, because everything was too much and you just couldn’t stop the tears from forming. You silently padded across the kitchen and wrapped your arms tightly around the man in front of you, pressing yourself tightly against his back. 

“I’m so sorry” you mumbled.

He blinked. You were quiet but loud enough for him to hear.  He removed your hands from his torso and turned to hold you to his chest instead. One hand rubbed your back while the other cradled your head. “I didn’t realize that you had anything to apologize for. You were right all along, I was just too blind to see.”

“I’m happy I’m right believe me, but this isn’t the kind of thing I want to rub in. We lost too much. We’ve all had to wait 12 years and then we lost Sirius and then I gave up on us and-” 

“Shhh, love. I gave up on the man who needed me the most and I lost you because of my own damn foolishness.” he paused to place his hand under your chin to raise your gaze to his while his thumb wiped your tears away. “I never stopped thinking about you. Every day I regretted pushing you away. I still regret, I regret not chasing you as you left. I regret letting my fear of your rejection stop me from feeling joy for the past decade. I regret not begging for you to come back.”

You buried your face in his chest again finding comfort in his strong embrace, but you still couldn’t rid yourself of guilt and confusion.

“Oh Rem, I was so angry. I didn’t understand how you could believe it and it wasn’t fair we were even put in that position.”

“Are you still angry?”

“Yes and no. I’m not particularly angry at anyone anymore other than myself. I don’t know. I just wanted to make everything alright again and I couldn’t, I can’t.”

“That’s not a burden you should of had to bear alone, that you don’t have to bear alone”

You both stayed in silence for a while.

“Rem?”

“Yes Y/N?”

“Please stay. I don’t know what’s going on other than I know I need you here. Please, don’t go.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

You both stayed like that for a few minutes before you reluctantly broke your hold. 

“I’m gonna go check on Sirius”

---

Sirius had his head tilted back, not remembering the last time he was able to feel warmth like this, but also completely aware of how he was alone with his own thoughts. He raised his head as he heard a soft knock at the door. 

“Yes?”

“It’s Y/N, can I come in?”

“Of course.”

He rested his head back in the comfort your presence brought, letting the bliss overtake his finally relaxed state. Y/N smiled at the sight, completely happy as he seemed somewhat okay in the moment. You sat down beside him cross legged, taking in the face you could only see in your dreams for the past decade.

“I talked to Remus.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, honestly I don’t know what’s going on. Other than you two are gonna be staying here for a while so I can take care of you. I just came to check in before I got your bed ready.” 

You gripped the edge of the tub to lift yourself up, but before you could even move Sirius had his hand locked around your wrist.

“Wait- please don’t go.” 

“Everything alright?”

“Darling, I’ve had to be by myself for the past decade, I’m not exactly in need of alone time. Would you please keep me company? ”

“Anything you need.”

Instead of loosening his grip completely he replaced his hold from your wrist to your hand.

“Just need you here, that’s all I need.”

 His thumb rubbed the back of your hand in soothing circles and you couldn’t believe your hand had been empty of his for so long. You remembered that Sirius was always a man of action. Sure, he could be a little spitfire. He could get your tongue tied just as quick as he loosened it, however he showed his love with action. You were the same. So you couldn’t help but smile at the sigh that escaped his lips as you scratched at his scalp.  

“Here Siri, let me help you get cleaned up.”

He just nodded, welcoming to any sort of soft touch that he had been without for so long.

You grabbed a washcloth and slowly moved it up along his arms. Every movement as soft and tender as Sirius was right now. There was no sexual motive in what you were doing, but it did feel just as intimate. Tears started rolling down his face freely when you started massaging the shampoo into his scalp. 

“Y/N you don’t even know, you don’t even know how much I missed your hands, shit”

“It’s alright love. I know, believe me” you cooed reassuringly.

Finally when his hair was washed you started combing through his thick locks. Everything felt timeless and you wished you could make him feel this good for ages, but the goosebumps on his arms told you it was time to get out.

“I bet that water is pretty cold now, come on. Up you get.”

He just stared at you like you were the only good thing left on this earth as you dried him and eventually handed him a towel to wrap around his waist.

Knock Knock. “Hey, is it alright if I come in.” Well, maybe not the only good thing.

“Sure Moons,” Sirius answered.

Remus entered what he thought could be casual until he saw the bare chested man standing two feet in front of him, his cheeks turning a slight tinge of pink before he remembered why he was there.

“Here, I figured you’d want some clean clothes to wear so I brought some of mine to sleep in.”

“Well actually…” You responded. “You know what, just follow and I’ll show you.”  

They trailed behind you cautiously, very afraid of the sudden anxious tone of your voice. Once you all were in your room you gestured for them to sit on the bed and moved towards your dresser. Finally you broke the silence. 

“Don’t judge me too harshly but..”

“Oh y/n love, why?” Sirius asked.

The sight in front of him broke his heart. You with a heap of his old clothing that you placed beside him on the bed. The thought of you never moving on, of never healing and just living your life constantly seeing the remnants of the love you lost.

“I couldn’t do it. I know it’s not healthy, but they were the only thing I had left of you and I couldn’t bear it” you choked.

Sirius was there to catch your tears as he held your face tightly to his chest. Soon enough you felt another comforting figure wrap his long arms around both you and Sirius as he nestled in behind you. 

“This is ridiculous” you sniffled “I’m supposed to be taking care of you two, not the other way around.”

“We’ll take care of eachother darling.” Sirius replied.

“Like we were always supposed to. Can’t do this by yourself, love. I know I can’t do this alone anymore either.” Remus added. 

You breathed in contentment, feeling like someone finally removed the boulder that was placed on your chest. Your brain wasn’t free of all its constraints however, for you still had a million questions burning in the back of your mind.

“Siri,” you sighed “you really should get some rest.”

“But he smells so good.” Remus chided

Sirius just chuckled. 

“Well I’ll leave you boys to get ready, I’m not tired yet.”

With that you weaseled your way out from between them. Already missing the warmth, but still insecure with all the undefined things that maybe could never be defined again. You looked to see two very disappointed men and giggled.

“Seriously you two, just get yourselves comfortable and don’t worry about me, okay.”

You made your way downstairs, a thousand thoughts running through your head. That boulder was finding its way onto your chest again. Have you ever stopped loving them? No, of course not. Did they feel the same? What would this mean? Were you all in a relationship again? Had Remus forgiven you for leaving? Sirius seems like he wants you around, or does he just want comfort? Someone familiar to ease him in. God all you wanted to do was fall asleep in their arms again, but your fear was making your brain go haywire. So you decided you’d let Sirius take the bed and Remus would probably stay with him. Maybe they won’t notice you thought to yourself as you pulled a blanket over your body and let your eyelids become dark blank canvases.

---

The floorboards creaked with the unfamiliarity of Sirius and Remus’s feet. Finally they paused once they reached their destination and suddenly weren’t as confused as to why you had never come back up again. You were in a restless sleep, twitching and muttering to yourself. You awoke with a gasp, despite being awoken by a gentle touch. 

“Y/N, I thought you weren’t tired?” Remus questioned.

“Well, maybe I was a little tired…”

This time Sirius began his own interrogation. 

“Would you like to inform us why you’re sleeping on the couch in your own house?”

“I just wanted to make sure you were comfortable.”

What you said was true enough but Sirius could feel your anxieties. He felt them the very same ones at first, but as soon as he saw you in the doorway he remembered all the nights he dreamed of you only to have dementors take them away. He wasn’t shaking cause he was scared. He was shaking because he was so completely overwhelmed that you were a real thing in front of him. In Azkaban deranged illusions of you were hardly attainable, and when they were they were ones that only inflicted pain. Then an angel answered the door and now this angel was doubting herself. 

“12 years I’ve had to sleep without you in my arms. I would fall asleep to the sound of your breathing. I haven’t had a proper sleep since the last time I saw you. 12 years! Do you know how many days that is?”

“4380, would you like me to include the days since you’ve escaped as well?”  

Remus answered cheekily, while dodging a swipe from Sirius as he continued.

“Besides, you’re not the only one who hasn’t slept. She would always sleep in the middle then suddenly it was too cold.”

"See you don't want us to be cold do you? That wouldn't be very comfortable."

You giggled at Sirius’s furrowed eyebrows.

Suddenly that stern gaze was turned into a warm smile as he spoke.

“Fuck, forgot all the cute noises you could make. That does it. This couch is too small for all three of us and I’m feeling too bloody selfish and sleep deprived to figure this shit out. Y/N you and Remus are the loves of my life and I’m not sleeping another night ever again without both of you within my reach understand? Pick her up Moony.” 

Soon enough your legs were wrapped around Remus’s waist and your arms were mimicking those actions around his neck. Truly a koala. Remus took you up the stairs while Sirius trailed closely behind. Your head was pressed into Remus’s neck but luckily your arms didn’t cover your eyes so you could gaze upon the beauty that was Sirius; still not quite believing it was yours to behold again. Your view however was subsided once you were placed on the bed. It didn’t take long for your back to be pressed firmly against Remus as you buried your head against Sirius’s chest. The weight of loving arms across your body replaced the weight of the world you once had to carry alone. 

And you knew you’d never want to fall asleep any other way again.

---

Shoutout to @thotbutpurple for encouraging me to write!

[theyreonlynoodlesmike]

A Reading: Part 8 (Poly!Lost Boys x Fem!Witch Reader)

<- Previous Chapter Next Chapter ->

Warnings: mentions of death/blood/violence, witchcraft,

Word Count: 2.8k

Another plot chapter babes :)

You'd followed him into the house, shutting the door behind you. There was a weird sense of deja-vu that set over you as you walked through it. You saw books everywhere, plants hanging off the walls, taxidermy lining the shelves, and you thought you even heard the jingle of a bell before the sound of scurrying feet. It reminded you of your own little caravan, except bigger. He led you into a kitchen, and there, sitting at the table reading a book and drinking tea, was an older woman.

If you couldn't tell by the simple sight of her, the fact that the spoon was stirring by itself was a dead giveaway that she was the witch. She looked up from her book, and the spoon stopped. You froze when her eyes landed on you. She felt familiar, but you couldn't place it. You expected something, some sort of burst of energy that your crystal would block. But nothing came. Instead, she smiled and motioned to the chair at her right side. It pulled out by itself, and she said,

"Hello, dear. Sit. I believe we have some things to discuss." And you could already feel your anxiety growing. She had telekinesis, like you did. It wasn't a rare talent in a witch, but it was one that usually gave you an advantage. It seemed, for now, you'd have to surrender the idea of having any advantages over the older woman. The man had taken the chair opposite of you, and you sat down slowly. "Tea?" She asked, and you politely nodded. You watched as the teapot and two cups floated over. One was placed in front of the old man, and one in front of you. The tea was poured into both cups from the same teapot, so the idea of her poisoning you was quickly discarded. A small bowl of sugar, a small pitcher of milk, and two spoons floated over as well. She let you make your tea as you liked, with the old man taking it black. You, keeping your wits about, did the same. You stared between the two of them, before you said,

"Um," You didn't know where to begin. You knew that she knew of you, but you hadn't expected her to expect you. It took you a moment to think about the situation, thinking if anything had been done on purpose. Maybe she just had a vision, you thought. Either way, you thought it was as good of a way to start as any. "How did you know I was coming?" You asked, and she smiled around her cup before she placed it back on the table.

"Figured you were a smart girl." She said, gesturing to the paper in your hands. "Any witch worth her salt knows to check." She finished, and you gave her a small smile. So, she'd called me on purpose, you thought. Interesting. It seems it might've been a test, but you weren't going to ask that much. Instead, your eyes flicked to the man across from you. He didn't seem to be like the pair of you, or to be supernatural at all. While it wasn't forbidden to do magic in front of regular people, it wasn't entirely encouraged. "Oh, this is Mr. Emerson. The grandfather of the boys your vampires are trying to turn." And you couldn't stop yourself from gulping. Oh, this was awkward. Despite that introduction, the man in front of you still seemed warm. The older woman seemed to realize then that she hadn't introduced herself. "Oh, dear, and I'm Mrs. Johnson." She finished, and you stuttered as you gave her your name.

"They're- they're not my vampires. I met them a couple of days ago and-" But she was raising a hand. Silencing you. The second she did, it hit you. Why you thought she felt familiar. You remembered your dream, the night before. The not-dream. The astral projection. The poppets, candles, sigils. Everything. if you hadn't remembered, you would've thought to be irked. You clamped your mouth shut as she said,

"I know, dear. You were just passing through, right? Well, you caught their attention and you- Well, you changed things. Made them a little more complicated." She said, stirring her tea with her hand this time. You could guess how she meant. While witches usually left eachothers territory alone, it wasn't encouraged to hurt one another. Killing another witch? Highly frowned upon. Not only was it bad luck, but witches were a dying race anyways. You expected her to continue, but Mr. Emerson did instead,

"I've been friends with Mrs. Johnson for a very long time. She's helped me with all kinds of hunts." You froze at the words, but Grandpa quickly shook his hands. "Vampire hunts. Retired a few years back." He specified, before continuing. His smile made you relax, and you sipped the tea just after he did. "You see, you happened to come to Santa Carla at a very bad time." Hell, did you already know that. Really, you were starting to think that you should've gone just a town up the map. Grandpa folded his hands, leaning forward. "I'd be able to spot a vampire blind-folded in the dark, so imagine my surprise when my grandson comes home a half." He said, gesturing with one hand. You nodded. You could imagine his distress. "Now, obviously, we can't have him turning. We already know who the head is and we just need to draw him out. Then, we can kill him and everything will be done." He said, holding out his hands and smiling like it was a foolproof plan. With the protection on his grandsons, maybe it was. It explained why the boys hadn't slaughtered them. A couple of teens, a couple of halves, and a retired hunter? Sure, they had the numbers, but it would've been sheer dumb luck if there was no outside interference. You looked between the two of them.

"So, what do you want from me?" You asked. You guessed they wouldn't have brought you here for nothing. And, since they hadn't tried to kill you yet, you thought they were going to ask you to do whatever it was first. Mr. Emerson looked at you, at Mrs. Johnson, and then back as he let out a small laugh. Mrs. Johnson was pressing her lips together, suppressing a smile. 

"Well, plain and simple? We want you to back off. Your protections are leveling out the playing field, so to say, and we can't have that." Mr. Emerson said, and you frowned then. So, they were calling for a cease fire. At least, from you. They noticed your silence, and Mr. Emerson quickly jumped back in to fill it. "Now, we know you really had nothing to do with this. You just got into town, and you probably haven't even met my grandson. They may have employed you, but you're not at fault." He said, waving his hands towards you. "No harm will come to you. From us or them. Mrs. Johnson will make sure of that." You glanced at Mrs. Johnson, and she gave you a nod. They must've guessed that you'd had your hands tied. Originally, you had. "And once the head is dead? Well, you can pack up and be on your way." He finished, and you were silent for another moment. Your eyes left them and went to the cup of tea in front of you.

It was a good offer. A really good offer. Step back and do nothing? And get protection, freedom, and the ability to leave Santa Carla in return? Hell of a good deal. Still, you didn't jump on it like they expected you to. You didn't jump on it like you expected yourself to. You thought of the boys, of their deaths. They'd die just to draw out the head, you thought. It wasn't fair. For all four of them to die just for that. You hadn't seen their deaths, but, looking into the cup, you practically could. It wouldn't be pleasant for any of them. They'd all probably go down kicking and screaming. Screaming for you to come save them. You gulped, looking away from the tea to glance between the two elders.

"No." You said. It was definitive and sounded more sure than you felt. You hadn't known the boys for long, but that didn't mean you wouldn't keep your word. You weren't going to back on what you'd told Dwayne. You remembered the relief you'd seen on his face, the same relief you'd seen on Markos. You remembered Paul's smile, and David's words. Even if he was as cuddly as a cactus at the best of times, he didn't want you dead. You decided to let that mean more than it probably did. 

"Dear, you don't know what you're-" Mrs. Johnson had reached for your hand, laid her warm fingers on top of your own. You pulled your hand back. They felt too warm, like they were going to scorch your skin. You'd grown too used to the feeling of cold flesh. There was a threat edging her voice, but one that made you harden. You were tired. Tired of being scared and of people assuming that you were incapable of protecting yourself. Defending yourself. It was true that you were petrified, that you didn't really know how to get yourself out of this situation. You weren't the boys, you weren't David. Truthfully, you thought it should be him in your place. But it wasn't. That didn't mean you couldn't act like him. Couldn't think like him.

You went over what they'd already told you in the seconds the words left her mouth. Mr. Emerson had said you'd levelled out the playing field. Really, you'd taken away the Emerson's advantage. If either side had a witch, then the outcome was obviously in the boys' favor. Not to mention, she said you'd changed things. You thought about how she'd blocked you from being able to do your readings, from being able to glance into the future. Maybe...

"Kill me and my spells become permanent. That's what a smart witch would do, right?" You interrupted, and tilted your head at Mrs. Johnson. "Making the playing field even, like you said." You gestured to the man across from you. You looked down at your cup. It was easier to be confident when you were looking at your own reflection. You thought of how David talked, how he acted. Like he was one step ahead and like he owned the room. You needed more of a power shift, so you continued. "My friends might not be with me, but if I'm not at the end of the street by sunrise, they go to their sire. Even playing field and five vampires. Sounds like a problem." You paused, sipping your tea. You looked up. Neither of them seemed pleased, and Mrs. Johnson went as far as narrowing her eyes. You didn't know if she could read minds, but, if she did, she'd see that you weren't bluffing. Neither of them spoke. You had them in a corner, and they'd hoped you wouldn't notice. Unfortunately, you had. "Now, I'm not a vampire expert, but I'm guessing the territory situation isn't that different from a witch's. So, best case scenario, this coven dies and...what?" You said, looking between them. Again, you were met with more silence. And it was exhilarating. They looked between eachother. It was clear they hadn't thought that far ahead. They were just trying to keep Michael from turning. "New coven moves in? Big hot spot, Santa Carla. Attracts lots of tourists. Will probably attract a lot of rival covens too." Now, you knew you weren't heeding David's warning. It was clear they were getting tired of your yapping, but you knew, on some level, the boys might've been impressed. Especially David.

"What are you getting at?" Mr. Emerson snipped, and you had to suppress a smirk. You shook your head.

"A retired hunter, a couple of hunter wannabes, and a witch." You held up a finger for each thing you listed off. "The first thing the new covens will do is try to clean house, and you and your family won't last the summer." You said flatly. 

It was true. You'd read it in your ancestors journal. Vampires only respected other vampires, and you were sure there'd be plenty trying to stake a claim on a spot like Santa Carla. Tourists, its crime rate, and general reputation? It was a dream come true. And if they killed the last coven, their names would be on missing posters before the Emerson's could even celebrate. The only thing preventing that was the current coven holding onto the territory.

Grandpa shook his head, letting out a laugh. He shook a finger at you, but Mrs. Johnson didn't seem to think you were funny. She was thinking your words over, trying to find a way to make you wrong. Some of the words your ancestor had written rang in your head. They'd written that, with vampires, it was best to avoid. And, if you couldn't avoid, to appease. All other routes hardly went the way they'd hope. You took another sip of your tea.

"So, what do you suggest?" Mrs. Johnson said. It seemed to pain her to ask the question. You tilted your head before you put the tea down. That was a good question, but there was only one thing you really wanted. 

"Leave the boys alone." You started. It was the only thing you'd promised, and the only thing you really desired. You wanted the boys to live, and you wanted them to live up to their part of the deal. Even if you knew you should head out of Santa Carla the second you weren't needed.

Still, you weren't going to be unfair and you knew you needed to give them something in return. There was only one thing you really could give them.

"And I'll convince them to let you kill Max."

***

That was a feat that was going to be easier said than done. You stood on the street corner, replaying the conversation over and over in your mind. It had gone well all things considered. You'd bought the boys time, and you promised the Emerson's, and Mrs. Johnson, something that they wanted. Kill Max and Michael is human once again. You'd talked about what would happen afterwards, and you'd made it clear that the boys would inherit his territory. They'd avoid them, and vice versa. They had no reason to betray you, as the only good course of action was the one you'd detailed. You let out a breath. So, why were you so nervous?

You tried to empty your mind. Make it so they had to hear it come out of your mouth instead from the unfiltered thoughts inside your head.

"For someone trying not to think, your thoughts are pretty loud." A voice said behind you, and you jumped. You turned, staring into the face of the bleached blonde. His eyes seemed half amused, and you watched as a slight smirk came onto his face before he reached inside his coat. You had placed a hand over your chest, before you let out a breath. You tried your best, but his words didn't give you any hope that you'd succeed. So, you sighed and ran a hand through your hair.

"It went okay. I-I met Grandpa Emerson." You said, and you watched as he blinked in surprise. You were just supposed to meet the witch, but it was clear how they'd manage to employ her to help them then. He cursed under his breath. It was obvious they hadn't realized he was going to be a threat, and you quickly tried to keep his mood up with good news. "I got them to agree to let you live." You said, and David paused at that. A half-scoff left his lips as he lit his cigarette. The flick of his flame, the leather of his gloves. You wondered if he'd have the same effect on you if he wasn't a vampire. You wondered if he'd been just the same when he was human. Still, you could practically see the thoughts in his head. That it wasn't really their decision if they lived or not.

"How's that?" He asked, and you didn't miss his tone. He was half-serious, half playing at arrogance. Still, you answered his question just the same. The words were hard to get out, and you wished it wasn't just David that you had to say them to.

"I said you'd give them Max." You waited with bated breath. You expected a flash of anger, just like the flick of his lighter. Cruel words, icy eyes, and perhaps even the same violence you'd seen the first night. Instead, he blew the smoke out of the corner of his mouth and asked,

"Is that it?"

[canyouhearthelight]

The Miys, Ch. 150

I think for the time being, I am going to quit calling myself ‘late’ posting as long as I get the chapter up on the right day of the week *facepalm*.  Bc I am barely keeping ahead, much less remembering to queue things up.

I am so, so sorry about that....

Fair warning before anyone @s me: The French is a joke, so if I got it super wrong I am equally sorry to the degree of which it’s wrong.

Unless it’s obscene. Then I want to know so that I can laugh with you, and I am LEAVING IT.

As always, shouts out to @baelpenrose, @the-raven-fae, and @charlylimph-blog!

Heaving an enormous Dutch oven onto a burner, I turned on the heat low and started chopping vegetables. After the first celery stalk, I glanced up at Derek, who sat across from Maverick in our living room.  The quarters were shaped differently, which had distressed Derek initially, but the addition of his favorite blankets to the sofa had helped.  Currently, he was completely distracted from even Mac: staring off into space, his fingers flying and flicking with a feverish, almost convulsive movement.

Maverick glanced up at me with a smile before following my gaze. “Yep, the cyber siege continues.  He’s doing well, from what Zach told me.”

“I thought he was only supposed to attack human-managed systems,” I grumbled, thinking back to the cold shower I had been subjected to that morning. Turning back to the vegetables, I made short work of the celery before taking my frustration out on the carrots. Scooping the diced vegetables into a bowl, I started measuring out paprika, sugar, salt, pepper, basil, and oregano into another bowl.  “Where’s Sam, by the way?”

“On the way,” Maverick promised. “With Terran-style tomatoes, he swears.  And Derek is only attacking systems we manage.  When BioLab 2 was set up, we had to take over water management, to protect the lab from any sort of contamination.”

The knife in my hand, brandished at three cloves of garlic, clattered to the work surface. “Seriously?” I glared at the tap, suddenly suspicious.

“Probably get water from the console,” he winced, nodding briskly at Derek, who nodded in confirmation without stopping his tapping and flicking gestures.

Groaning, I shook my head and crushed the garlic, removed the skin, and started mincing. All that was left was to wait on the tomatoes from Sam.  The garlic was potent enough, and I wanted to avoid cutting any onion until absolutely necessary since Derek was clearly parked for the duration.

I was saved about fifteen minutes later when Conor and Sam stopped at the door.  Sam waved cheerfully and held up the requested vegetables while Conor removed his boots. A quick shuffle later for Sam to remove his own shoes, and both came to the food prep area - too small to be considered a proper kitchen - to greet me. 

First, Conor gave me a big, smelly hug and a kiss on my hair. “Did you already slice the bread?”

“Ew, you gorilla!” I laughed. “And I haven’t sliced any bread yet, I wasn’t sure how long I had and I didn’t want it to get too stale.”

“They’re toasties, love.” He shook his head with a grin before swatting me on the butt. “No one cares if the bread was a bit stale before you started.”

Over his shoulder, Derek’s head bobbed side to side. “I think someone disagrees.” I looked meaningfully past him.  To Conor’s credit, he looked sheepish.

Sam squeezed around and handed me the tomatoes and gave me a hug. “Thank you for making soup.”

“I know it’s our favorite,” I winked before shooing him out of the area. “Not enough room for more than one in the kitchen. Y’all go unwind out there, and make sure you warn Derek that I’m about to start cutting onions.”

As he held up his hands and jokingly scurried away, I turned to the stove and started cursing myself. I’d forgotten to start boiling water. Snagging a small saucepan, I got a carafe of water from the console and started rectifying that, tossing in a generous pinch of salt.  Gently, I cut an X into the bottom of each tomato and set them aside before peeling and dicing the onion.  Immediately, the onion, carrots, and celery went into a food processor.  “Derek, I’m about to be loud,” I called softly before counting to ten to give him time to cover his ears or step into the corridor.  A quick blitz later, the vegetables were perfectly between a mince and a puree.

A quick swizzle of oil went into the already-hot dutch oven before adding the mirepoix and giving it a quick stir. As if on cue, Tyche and Antoine breezed through the door, noses twitching.

“I smell food,” she announced, stalking into the kitchen.  One look at the ingredients was all it took. “Ooooo you’re making the tomato soup.”

I couldn’t help laughing. “I am, and you know I don’t have room in here for spectators, unfortunately.” Arching an eyebrow, I pointed the spoon in my hand at the table.

She wasn’t having it. “One of these days, you’re going to show me how to make that. May as well be today.”

“Nice try, but I need some secrets. Besides, the longer I argue with you, the more likely the vegetables are going to scorch. Scoot!”

She scrunched her face at me but acquiesced. As I scooped the garlic into the pot, I heard her change topics. “How much longer is the stress test? My music keeps getting mixed up with Antoine’s. I don’t mind it, but…”

Antoine smiled softly and shook his head. “But it is quite a shock to expect classical music and instead her rock starts playing.”

Personally, I liked both, but still shuddered at what he was talking about. Carefully lowering three of the tomatoes into the now-boiling water, I glanced at the sauteing vegetables and gave them a quick stir to check. “We have about six more days before the repairs start, maybe four more after that?”

Conor sighed. “I wish we could ask if anything important was being hacked, not just annoying environmental controls.”

“Plants aren’t dead yet,” Sam pointed out, tipping his bottle of water toward Conor in a practiced gesture.  Everyone laughed when, rather than being reassured, Conor leapt to his feet to check on his ‘babies’ in the room.

Cursing, I dipped the tomatoes out of the boiling water and dropped them immediately into an ice bath.  A couple pokes with my trusty spoon showed they weren’t overcooked, thankfully. “None of my information for work has been acting up,” I admitted as I started peeling them. “But Pranav advised that more critical data would either go completely missing or not show any signs of infiltration.  We won’t know until after the test is over.”

“Lovely,” Tyche drawled as she watched Conor fretting over the plants. “So it’s all or nothing.”

I shrugged and dumped the tomato paste - admittedly, from the console - into the pan of other vegetables.  When I stirred, I was satisfied that the carrots, onion, and celery had cooked down to where they were soft. “In a weird way, it makes sense. They’re testing for catastrophic data breaches, which would pull everything down, or for data theft, which you wouldn’t want to leave traces of.”

The corner of Antoine’s mouth quirked up as I dropped three more tomatoes into the pan of boiling water. “No hidden boba tea this time, that is reassuring.”

Hands still moving without hesitation, Derek whipped his head toward Antoine, paused, and turned back to where he had been staring. Derek’s version of a glare.

“That was Charly,” I responded in unexpected unison with Maverick and Conor.  I smirked while dumping the already-peeled tomatoes into the processor with another pinch of salt. “Seriously, Derek had nothing to do with that other than divine retribution.” I paused for a moment. “Although I do have to admit that the cold showers do seem to track with what Charly reported.”

That only got a shrug from Derek, which was as good as an admission.

The conversation shifted again - something Conor and Sam were working on in the aeroponics labs that I had already heard multiple details on, plus repetition.  Tuning it out, I pulled out the last three tomatoes, dropped them in the ice bath, and took a platter with a loaf of bread, sliced cheese, and butter out to the table. “Mav, can you start setting up the sandwiches?”

He went to stand, but Tyche shooed him back down. “I got it. She may not let me help make the soup on this one, but I can prep a grilled cheese with the best.” Staring me in the eye, she started cutting slices from the loaf defiantly.

I just laughed it off. This was the only tomato soup either of us liked, and she had been chasing me for the recipe for ages.  It had become a running joke at this point, so without hesitation, I moved back to the food prep area, peeled the remaining tomatoes, and gave another warning that I was going to be loud.  Some more blitzing later, the now-pureed tomatoes went into the pan of veggies along with the spices I had already measured out, the juice from one lemon, and enough water to fill the pan three-quarters full.  Leaving that to boil, I moved the boiling water off the stove and swapped it for a grill-pan.

“Sophie!” Conor cried from the armchair where he perched. “You’ve seen the plants we’re growing in the lab! Tell them we’ve managed a crop of roots!”

I winced. “Jury’s out… I’m not sure how aeroponic potatoes are going to turn out, but I can confirm they are in the process of finding out?”

Tyche’s knife fell to the table, and she moved her mouth silently in a very accurate imitation of a fish before managing to sputter. “Air-grown… potatoes?”

The confusion on Antoine’s face was painful to look at. He started to speak before stopping himself and instead pulling up his datapad, jotting a message, and flicking it out to the room.

When I read the message, the confusion was so clear that I hurt my sinuses snorting. Des pomme de terre en l’air? Pommes aeriennes? Talk about being lost in translation…. “Conor, Sam… I think Antoine has the perfect name for those if they work out. Just sayin’”

Tyche snorted and shook her head before handing me the platter, with a stack of perfectly buttered bread, two slices of cheese between every other slice of bread.  The soup had just come to a simmer, so I was stirring intently and just nodded for her to start grilling sandwiches.  Several appreciative sniffs and twenty minutes later, six bowls of soup and six matching sandwiches - three cut vertically and three cut diagonally, because it mattered and was not a battle I was willing to fight - hit the table.  Tyche politely placed the salt cellar and a pepper grinder on the table, although the glare she dished out to the collected group promised strong retaliation to anyone who touched them.

I held up half of my grilled cheese in a mock-toast. “To soup night!”

“To air potato soup, soon!” Maverick offered up with a grin, only for everyone to echo his sentiment with the exception of Derek - who just held up half of his sandwich with one hand and tapped away with the other, not even relenting to eat.

Frankly, as long as he spared a hand to eat, I couldn’t bring myself to care.  He took these tests very seriously, and generally only stopped when he was completely asleep.

Everyone dug in, but it was only after my first spoonful that I spoke up. “Considering how long it took to make sure the tomatoes wouldn’t be poisonous, I’m not sure the potatoes will be ready before we get to Von.”

Conor and Sam nodded, as did Tyche and Antoine, but Maverick stopped with his bowl halfway to his mouth.  Setting it down gently, he angled his head. “What do you mean, poisonous?”

“They’re nightshades,” Conor told him, as calmly as if he was telling us that water was wet. “Tomatoes are the only edible berries of that family, and potatoes are the only edible tubers, so we have to be extra careful.”

Maverick’s eyes grew wide and turned toward his soup. Tyche just reached out and patted his hand. “You’ve eaten this soup for years, and you love tomatoes. They’re safe, I swear.  And Sam won’t let Sophia near the new ones until he’s completely sure they’ll be okay to eat.”

Sam nodded, shoving a soup-covered wedge into his mouth. “We’re growing them in simulated Von-light, hoping that keeps the roots from creating chlorophyll.  If we’re wrong, there’s a forty-three-point-six percent chance they won’t grow at all, ten-point-five percent chance they will give you a stomach ache, eighteen-point-four percent they won’t taste good, and twenty-seven-point-five percent they will taste good and be safe to eat at the same time.”

“Meaning they won’t kill you, you might get a tummy ache, but most likely for this generation, they just won’t grow,” Conor translated.

“Hang on,” I held up my spoon. “What kind of stomachache are we talking here?”

The mad botanists looked at each other and made a few thoughtful faces. Finally, Conor nodded and Sam spoke. “Unripe apples,” he stated flatly. “But just unripe apples.”

“Oh, that’s not too bad,” I shrugged and crunched into my sandwich.

Derek finished his half-sandwich and blindly reached for another. He had it halfway to his mouth before he looked at it and dropped it back to the plate in alarm. You would have thought it tried to bite him rather than vice versa.

Antoine shook his head and reached past the vertically cut sandwich Derek had dropped and delicately handed him a diagonally cut one. “Here you go, friend.”

Glaring at the sandwich like it may betray him, he bit it viciously before going back to the screen he could only see in his mind, seemingly satisfied that the sandwich would not change into the offending shape.

I told you, it matters.

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[talsiaa]

Tattoo Shop AU - wolfstar

*not my art but it’s stunning <33 it’s by @savysami !*

Pairing: Sirius Black x Remus Lupin (I love wolfstar sm)

Summary: Sirius owns a tattoo parlour. Wolfstar fluff ensues. Also, they’re not wizards and Remus isn’t a werewolf :)

Warnings: tattoo stuff -needles, blood, pain. 

Word Count: 1420

A/N: This is apart of @band--psycho​ ‘s bingo challenge, I’m so excited to be apart of it :)) Disclaimer though, never once have I ever been into a tattoo parlour so this is what I assume happens but I could be wrong so read it with a pinch of salt if you actually know about tattoos. Hope you all enjoy <3

The soft glows of sunset brushed upon Remus’ skin, bringing out his freckles, as he paced back and forwards in front of the tattoo parlour he was booked into about 15 minutes ago. At first, he had not been phased by the idea of getting a tattoo - ever since he was a teen he thought they looked incredibly attractive and was so sure he wanted one. Now, however, as he stood reaching for the door handle for what must have been the fifth time, he was unusually nervous. What if it hurts too much? What if he hates it? What if he flinches and causes the artist to mess it up? With the many doubts running through his head, he had not yet spotted the amused-looking tattoo artist watching him through the window from the front desk. Deciding he could no longer sit and watch his 5 o’clock appointment pace in front of his shop, Sirius Black made his way outside, startling Remus as he opened the front door.

“So are you going to pace out here all night or would you like to come in?” Sirius mocked, still giving the other young man a warm smile as to not scare him off. 

“S-sorry, I just, erm...well...” Remus stood like a deer in headlights at the (rather attractive) man in front of him, not really having a reason for his pacing that wouldn’t completely embarrass him.  

“Don’t worry, most people who come in are nervous for their first tattoo.” Sirius reassured him, nodding his head into the parlour and holding the door open for Remus who very uncertainly took the hint to go inside. 

The parlour was unexpectedly cosy - a small fireplace opposite the front desk making the art-covered walls glow orange. Pictures of past work hung above the desk and Remus couldn’t help thinking how beautifully talented you must be to be able to do any of it.

“I’m Sirius, by the way.” Sirius walked past Remus, towards a crooked spiral  stair case in the corner of the room. Remus supposed he should follow.

“I’m Remus. Sorry, I am quite late.” Remus with his six-foot-something frame struggled to fit in the passageway at the top of the stairs, ducking his head when he went under a light.

“Oh, it’s okay. You’re my last appointment and anyway,” Sirius now turned around to smile at Remus once again, walking backwards through a door that let to a tiny break room. “I enjoyed watching you pace, it was cute,”

“Oh, er, you saw the full fifteen minutes, huh?” Remus decided to chuckle instead of just combusting with regret, scratching at the back of his neck. Sirius hummed in response, flicking a kettle on.

“It’s okay, though, honestly. Loads of people get nervous coming in for their first tattoo...” the reassuring speech Sirius started was muted in Remus’ mind as he finally got to look properly at the artist.

Sirius Black was covered with tattoos. Tiny doodles peppered his skin, filling the space between some of his bigger pieces. On his forearm Remus noticed a constellation, although half of it was covered by the white shirt arms he had rolled up and untidily buttoned halfway up his arm. His skinny jeans didn’t quite go with the rather smart looking shirt, but once again Remus’ mind was racing because wow, Sirius Black was hot.

“So yeah,” Remus tuned back into Sirius’ words, both of them sitting round a small coffee table in the middle of the room on battered leather armchairs. “Drink your tea and we’ll talk about what you actually want tattooed. I’ll draw some designs and you can pick your favourite - oh, you don’t take sugar, do you?” Sirius asked just as Remus put his mug to his lips and shook his head. “I’ll answer any questions you have too, it might make you less nervous?” 

Remus gave a small, grateful smile at this and murmured a thank you, placing his mug onto the table while Sirius opened his sketch book. “I actually had a few ideas, but I’m not sure which I’d like to go with. So, one of them was the phases of the moon, maybe just below my collar bone. Or, this on my bicep,”

Remus quickly took out his phone and showed a picture he’d saved a few weeks prior.

“Not the writing, though, sort of just the circle bit,”

“Alright, great. Here, might be able to choose if you can see them drawn out.” Sirius thrust the sketch pad at Remus and he took it, biting his lip in concentration. The paper showed the tattoos he wanted drawn onto a rough sketch of both body parts. “If you want both that’s okay too. Like I said, you’re my last appointment so I really don’t mind if it takes a bit longer than expected.”

“Erm, can we do the moon phases one today and the other one another time? I’d hate to keep you late.” In reality, Remus wasn’t sure he’d stay 100% conscious if he got both done one after the other. He had just a little fear of needles. Sirius could definitely sense this was the real reason but didn’t push it.

“Definitely. Come on, we’ll go into the studio.” Remus followed him back out of the room and into the tiny corridor again but luckily went straight next door. In this room, everything was sleek and clean and smelled like disinfectant. A black couch stood against the wall, facing the tattoo chair. Drawers and plastic boxes of various equipment were organised about the room.

“Jump on the chair and pop your shirt off,” Sirius flicked the lamp attached to the chair on and sauntered across the room to get the tattoo gun, ink and disinfectant. 

Pulling his David Bowie tshirt over his head, Remus started feeling even more shaky and nervous. A pit was starting to form in his stomach and he didn’t like it one bit.

“Nothing to worry about, okay? You’re perfectly safe, I promise.” Sirius had made his way back to sit on a stool next to Remus with everything he needed sprawled out next to him. His voice low and soothing, making Remus suppose that even if he was in an unbearable amount of pain in the next five minutes, at least he’d have a really attractive man telling him it’s okay in the most enchanting way he’d ever heard. “If you need me to stop for a few moments just tell me. Afterwards I’ll get you a lolly if you’re a really brave boy, yeah?”

Although mocking, there was a quite a suggestive undertone to Sirius’ words. Remus took a deep breath and nodded while the other boy got to work, cleaning the area under his collar bone. The tattoo gun then graced his soft skin, making him wince and screw his eyes shut, tensing up a little.

“Just try and relax for me, Remus. You’re doing great, it’ll be over in a minute.” Sirius’ soothing words caused Remus to relax into the chair a little, the pain becoming a little duller as blood prickled to the surface of his skin, making it numb. 

After not long at all, the pain stopped and was replaced by an ache instead. Looking down, a perfect depiction of the moon phases was etched into his collar bone and he immediately loved it, even if it was reddened at the present. 

“There we go, all done. See, that wasn’t too bad was it?” Sirius started cleaning the gun, putting various bits back where they came from and helping Remus out of the chair. “You good?”

“Yeah, yeah I’m alright. I really like it, thank you!” Remus was grinning at him, and Sirius couldn’t help but grin back. 

Another five minutes and Remus had had his tattoo carefully wrapped up and was at the counter downstairs again, being given instructions on how to look after his tattoo until it heals.

“That’s a pack of all the stuff you’re gonna need to keep it from getting infected and swollen.” Remus was handed a plastic toiletries bag of different lotions and anti-bac stuff. “As promised, a lolly for being brave,” Sirius smirked as he handed Remus a strawberry flavoured lolly. “And, er, this is my number.” A small piece of paper with small digits was also handed over. 

“In case I have any problems with it?”

“Yeah, I suppose that too. But also,” Sirius leaned in over the desk separating them, his smirk only growing. “In case you wanna text me so I can ask you on a date.”

Remus had never blushed so hard.

[thiswasinevitableid]

For the meet-ugly prompts: #13, Indruck, SFW ? 👁️👁️

Here you go!

13: we make contact before trying to steal the last seat on the subway/bus/train and I end up in your lap and fuck you, I’m going to stay here because I’ve had a really long day and this seat was mine

The Phoenix Starport is a labyrinth, while technically made of chrome and touch-screens, is really made of lines.

Duck stands in line to show his ticket, to deposit his bags, to go through three separate security check-points and, when he gets to the section for the shuttle to take him to the Starliner, a fourth one because when your clients are high paying, you don’t want them getting blown to pieces.

He isn’t high-paying, he isn’t a seasoned space traveler, and he isn’t going to spend one second more on his feet than he has to. It’s been two solid hours of that just to get to this point. Unfortunately, every other passenger shares this sentiment. When the shuttle door opens a mass of lifeforms pile in, hunting for seats. Duck spots one, turns to sit, and finds it’s much fuzzier than it looked.

“Excuse me.” The creature whose laps he’s in reminds him of the pictures of Mothman scattered around his home state, “but this seat is taken.”

“Yeah, by me, because I saw it first.”

A click from inside the mothmans chest, “You are wrong. I saw it first, and did not foresee anyone being rude enough to use me in its place.”

Every other seat is filled, and it’s a fifteen minute ride to the Starliner. Duck crosses his arms, “you don’t wanna be a seat, you better get up.”

That earns him an annoyed chirr, “Not a chance.”

The shuttle ride is smooth, but his seat keeps prodding him with a clawed finger whenever he puts his weight on it. When they arrive, the two of them stand one after the other. The mothman shakes out his feathers, tosses a glare over his shoulder, and steps through the doors.

Unsurprisingly, the Sylvain Dream makes opulence seem subdued. There are rare flowers studding the fountain by the concierge desk, art from across the universe on the walls, and a sound dampening, shimmering carpet lining the hall to his room. He’s looking forward to some alone time; while all the suites at this level are technically two person, they’re so expensive that most travelers get their own rooms.

He keys open the door and comes face to chest with the same fucking alien from the shuttle.

“Ah. So we are in this timeline. Lovely.” The mothman says dryly, passing him to greet the bellhop who just finished scurrying up the stairs, “I see you have a message from minister Woodbridge. Kindly have someone reply and tell him that if it’s an emergency, they may contact me directly, but if the matter is anything else, they are to leave me in peace during my journey.”

“Yes, Seer Cold.”

“Thank you.” the seer drops a coin into his hand and brushes past Duck without another word.

Duck finally makes it past the entryway and gasps; when the people paying for his journey asked if he’d prefer forest, city, beach, or desert, he assumed it was some sort of vague theme. Instead, the carpet is lush, soft grass, there are flowers everywhere, and the furniture is all made to be woodsy and rustic. The bath and shower are like a mini water-fall and pool, his bed housed in a mock cabin.

“This is amazing.”

“If you are here purely for a leisure trip.” His suite-mate crosses both sets of arms, “some of us are being transported back to work.”

“Now look, this is a work trip for me too. You gotta admit this is pretty swank.”

“And an attempt to soften the blow.” Mothman mutters.

Duck rolls his eyes, decides this is not his problem to deal with, and goes to unpack for the month-long journey ahead.

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

For the first two days he and Indrid--which is what the aloof, perpetually touchy Sylph likes to be called--do their best to ignore each other. They’re stuck on the same dining schedule, which means Duck accidentally insults the alien by giggling when he sees him lick his dessert up with an absurdly long tongue. He makes it up to the next night by saving the pineapple soda delivered in their lunch basket for the Sylph.

On day three, he’s reading by the holo-fire pit when a white badge with blue writing dangles before him.

“Would you like to accompany me to the spa?”

“Uh….”

“Since I foresee you asking no, we do not have to spend the entire time together.”

“I, uh, I was gonna say sure, but was wonderin’ why you offered it to me.”

“Oh.” His antenna flick in a new way, “I, ah, they gave me two. I have no one else to go with and it seemed silly to let it go to waste.”

“I gotta wear anything special?”

“Since humans require clothes in all but a few scenarios, I suggest wearing your robe.”

The spa is just as elaborate as the rest of the ship, with cushy chairs and complimentary booze. The secretary hands them each a menu of treatments bigger than any Duck’s held at a restaurant.

“Sugar scrub….talon wax….rock massage. Do they mean hot rocks?”

“No, that treatment helps those with scales shed.”

“Huh.” Duck pokes his tongue in his cheek, “wish they said which of these were safe for, uh, squishy human bodies.”

Indrid reaches out a claw, tapping several on the list, “This ful massage would be good; you’re muscular, it will be nice to have those muscles tended to.”

“Oh, uh, thanks. Have been workin out more, nice to have someone else notice.”

The Sylph smiles, “you may also like the hair luxury add-on; I’ve always thought humans with salt and pepper hair should show it off.”

Before Duck can ask how Indrid developed that opinion or learned that slang, they’re ushered off into separate rooms. He’s scrubbed and rubbed until his body surrenders the last of it’s stress, the oils they rub on his skin and into his hair smelling pleasantly of pine and cedar. His session ends with one of the staff leading him to a small room covered in deep green marble, where he can rinse and dry off in his own time.

Indrid is in the same room, reclining in a chair with a sun lamp on his wings. They’ve been groomed, the feather straighter and smoother than this morning. Duck takes his first real look at them, notices how the black is iridescent and that there are two bands of deep grey on the inside close to Indrid’s torso.

He’s really quite stunning.

“I feel” Indrid murmurs, “as if we got off to a bad start.”

“You think?” Duck aims for a genial tone.

Indrid cocks his head, “Yes. That is why I said it. I, ah, I ought to apologize for my temperament over the last few days. I am so very fond of earth, of humans, and I’d hoped to be able to work there indefinitely. But Sylvain is in crisis, and so they need me near. Never mind that we have the capability to transmit messages quickly between planets.”

“What’s the crisis?”

“Our plants are dying or failing to produce the resources we need. The belief is that-”

“-it’s a leftover contamination or mutation from the earth plants that crossed through the gate before it was destroyed.”

Indrid blinks, then grins, “it is novel to be the one having their sentences finished. Yes, Duck Newton; the gate has been gone for over two hundred years, but both our worlds will feel it’s effects for many more years.” His antenna perk up, “you’re the one they’re bringing on to consult.”

“Yep. That’s why they gave me such a sweet deal on the trip; they know it’s gonna be fuckin exhaustin work. Even with all the other perks they’re offerin, I know a lot of folks didn’t wanna apply.”

“Why did you feel differently?”

He pushes to the other side of the little pool so they can be closer, “I spent my whole life in the town I grew up in. I love what I do, I love helpin forests stay healthy and regrow and I...I dunno, how often do you get the chance to go to space and see forests on another planet?”

“Once, if you are me.” Indrid closes his wings, clicks off the light, and offers Duck a hand, “and I am glad you will have the chance to do the same.”

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

“You know” Indrid passes Duck the plate of toast, “I am named for Sylph who was the second most recent seer after myself. He and I are the same kind of Sylph, and when my parents learned their mothling-to-be was the next seer, they decided I would be Indrid Cold.”

“Not gonna lie, people actin like your fate is set in stone from birth gives me the creeps.”

“Understandable. I would not admit this to the other ministers, but I am no longer content with reporting on the futures. I try to change fate when I can. In this way, I am also like the first Indrid Cold. He kept trying to intervene in disasters; that’s how he got seen when he should not have been.”

“Holy fuck, there really was a mothman!”

“Indeed. I also learned from his personal notes that he was so fond of humans, he ended up marrying one.”

“Damn” Duck passes him the sweetener for his tea, teases, “you share that habit too?”

Red eyes linger a moment too long on his body before Indrid grins, “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

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

“You sure you don’t wanna swim?” Duck treads water in the green lagoon of some distant moon. The cruise is docked for an activity day, Duck having selected to spend it snorkeling and Indrid deciding to spend it with Duck.

“The wings are not built for it. Though the water does look pleasant.” Indrid lazily sifts black sand through his claws.

“You could wade in. It stays pretty shallow there” he points to a sand bar.

“If I get in over my head, will you come to my aid?”

“You know it.”

Indrid wades in, chirping as the waves hit his knees. When Duck next glances at him, Indrid is glancing right back. He’s smiling, soft and secretive.

“I am glad you picked this spot. The view is spectacular.”

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

They’ve hit turbulence a handful of times, all of which pale in comparison to the jolt that sends him tumbling out of bed. There are stabilizer controls to lighten the gravity in the room so they won’t feel the bumps as badly. But when he wobbles over, he finds it’s already up to the lowest it can be without him floating.

He stumbles to the window, the curtains shut against the vast universe. Is turbulence this severe normal? If the gravity doohickey isn’t able to help, maybe that means they’ve never hit a storm this bad.

Opening the window is a terrible idea; there’s no cause of the turbulence to be seen, and now he’s in a dark room staring into the depths of space, it’s so big, he’s so small, they all are, the forces of nature still have it in them to crack this ship like an egg, killing them all.

“Would it help if I said there are no futures where this storm poses a threat to us?” Indrid whispers from behind him.

“Kinda.”

“Would it help to see something breathtaking?”

“Wh-”

Indrid taps the glass, drawing Ducks attention to two massive, starry shapes, “Celestial whales. At least that’s the human name for them.”

“Holy fuck.” They remind Duck of Whale Sharks, but impossibly bigger, skin coated in thousands of star-spots, “how can they do that? I mean, obviously they ain’t mammals, but fuckin nothin thrives in deep space.”

“No one is certain.” Indrid sighs, happily, “isn’t it wonderful to know there are such things in the universe?”

“Yeah. AHfuck” He hits the wall as the whole ship shudders, “fuck, sorry-”

“It’s alright. It can be alarming when you’re on your first trip through the cosmos. I, ah, I have something that may help, if you’re alright with me touching you some.”

“Fine by me.” Duck follows Indrid to the Sylph’s bed. The seer sits cross-legged with his back against the wall and instructs Duck to rest his head in his lap. The points of his claws begin rubbing his neck and the base of his skull, Indrid humming at a low, steady pitch until Duck’s eyes start to close.

The pressure points are helping, he can tell by his loosening spine. But what soothes him to sleep is the repetitive reminder of Indrid there with him in the dark.

When he wakes up the storm is gone. His body is still moving, rising and falling in time with Indrid’s breath as he sleeps. He pulled Duck atop him in the night, and at some point must have wrapped him in his wings, since once, is still half-flopped on Duck’s back.

Seized with affection, Duck kisses his shoulder. When this earns him a happy chirp, he does it again, then kisses a cheerful path up to Indrid’s cheek. Red eyes open, sleepy and full of tenderness, just in time for the Sylph to turn his head and kiss Duck properly.

“What a lovely thing to awaken to.”

“No kiddin” Duck kisses him again, “fuck, Indrid, this is the weirdest goddamn thing to ever happen to me and I’m thinkin it might also be the best.”

Indrid hugs him close, “We shall have ample time to find out, if you wish to do so.”

“Hell yeah. But we only got a few days before we hit Sylvain.”

“Yes” Indrid kisses his nose, “but I happen to foresee Woodbridge ignoring my request for peace and sending me a message saying I will be working closely with a certain, visiting forestry expert.”

[bellamyblake]

Headcanons for Bellarke working together late at night on camp stuff and being absolute IDIOTS towards each other: 

they usually end up in one of the offices attached to the main room where the council meetings happen, together, late at night, after most of the camp has had dinner and went quiet;

they love working side by side, even if sometimes they spent hours going over maps and documents, discussing things, feelings their heads grow heavy, racking their brains at how they’ll push this through Kane and her mom or wondering how, how on earth can they make it easier for their kids, for their hundred;

or whatever’s left of them anyway;

as much as Bellamy loves those nights, he also absolutely despises what they do to Clarke; she tends to spent over 20 hours without any rest and the dark circles surrounding her eyes honestly scare the hell out of him;

he’s not much better off, having done at least one if not two guard shifts but somehow he doesn’t see that as much of a burden as her working in medbay saving people or fighting over with the council for the camp buildings or the living conditions and the jobs given out at the kids; 

their kids;

when he asks her if it’s time she head to bed late on a similar cold winter night with her hunched over the maps on the metal table and him going over reports she responds with a curt, stubborn, very Clarke-like;

”I’ll sleep.”

“When?” he crosses his arms over his chest, daring her.

“When I get this done.” she doesn’t even look at him instead uses the pencil to outline another thing on the map; 

another project for a tomato garden or a medbay building or a cabin to smoke the meat for that he knows, he just knows he’ll cut the trees for, chop them and prepare;

she was the brain, he was the hands; he was the hard work; that’s all he was ever good for anyway; 

and it brings him a sense of peace too-the splinters in his hands, the cuts, bruises, his sore muscles, his bad knee aching at night, dragging him in all his glory-maybe he was a masochist but he enjoyed it, found it made his nights quieter, kept the demons at bay;

“You’ll never get it done that’s why we have council meetings.” he huffs even more annoyed.

“They’re too loud and frustrating,”

“Clarke-”

“Bellamy?” she looks up briefly and gives him a once over “Don’t play so innocent, you haven’t slept either.”

“That’s different.”

“How? Please tell me how it’s different?” she’s angry now, that angry you got when you were so tired that anything could piss you off. 

Good thing he liked pushing her buttons especially when it came to her own damn health.

“It’s different because I never slept much. On the Ark I was awake most of the night, I’m used to just a few hours, my body can handle it.” she softens at that, knows just what he means beyond the surface and imagines him-just a boy, a child really, waking every time there was even the slightest of noises to be heard in Factory, or when his baby sister cried or when he had to feed her cause his mom was at work, or when-

God so many possibilities, so many times.

He never truly got peace.

She sees the cracks in his armous and wants to kiss him.

And then slap him.

But mostly kiss him.

So she turns her head away and waves her hand “Give me an hour.”

“I’m clocking it, princess!” he warns but grabs another folder from the table before going back to the old raggedy couch and resting on it and every now and then he’d snort like a horse at her angry paper slapping. 

he knows her so damn well-she’s angry but her brain is so busy, she’s not even registering it so he goes out and comes back without she so much as lift her head in the meantime but when he brings in a plate full of stew and boiled potatoes with rosemary as well as some hot milk and chocolate she hears her stomach grown loudly-

which of course only makes the idiot smile in satisfaction.

he brings her the salt they kept in the cupboard with the coffee, sugar and tea that they used for late night evenings like this one and because he knows she loves to put too much on everything he expertly stops her by blocking her way with his palm while her eyes are pinned on a recent guard report.

She pouts, of course she does, and with her eyes she says “Just a little more.” he huffs, pulls his hand away but stops her again by snapping it out of her hand before the entire meal turned white.

“It’s bad for the eyes, you know.”

“Says mister “I have to squint to see in the near distance.” he hobbles back to the couch and falls on it dramatically.

“For the record, Miss medic, it’s also bad for the heart.”

“Says the guy with the high blood pressure!” she cuts him off and he rolls his eyes at her. It was true. 

Last year every Arkadia citizent was subjected to the mandatory yearly check ups which she was helping her mom and Jackson with as they didn’t have enough nurses or doctors in training yet. 

She had taken it lightly then, made fun of him because she knew how much he hated being in medbay, the idiot even hid when he was hurt sometimes and she had to hunt him down and force him to sit still while she patched him up, so she thought she’d just use this as a way to make fun of his weird dislike of doctors. 

Instead when her mom listened to his heart furrowing her eyebrows at what she was hearing and then she took his blood pressure and saw how high it was, it had brought her back to the ground so fast, she felt like someone punched her in the gut.

he played it off as cool and her mom promised it’s not too serious yet, probably something genetic, running from his mom’s side according to old records but she spent the next two weeks monitoring his every move until he called her off; 

she still worried; still listened closely to his heart whenever he hugged her and begged it quietly, in her mind,to keep still, to slow down, to let him live till he was ninety;

“Maybe you’re putting too much salt in your food?” she suggests trying to get rid of her cloudy thoughts;

He throws a pillow at her and she chuckles’

But all she does in return is stick her tongue out at him and wolf down her food “God for an alpha princess you eat like a pig”

“Don't make me throw a hot potato at you”

“You wouldn't!”/ Don't test me!”/ “Just eat, Clarke”/ “I would if you shut up” 

“Asshole”

“Animal”

“Old man”

“Workaholic”

“Insomniac”

“Oh my god, ARE YOU REALLY THROWING THAT AT ME!”

“YEP”she says with a smirk “Now quiet I gotra focus!” He curses under his nose and leans back.

He thinks she doesn't pay any attention to him but in fact she does, she always did. So now she peaks under her maps and finds him stretching his legs and taking off his boots, rubbing the knee he broke last winter that must be getting sore with the cold weather and then leaning back and closing his eyes.

he dozes off first, in fact he falls on the couch in a half-slumped, half-sitting way that she knows can’t be comfortable, his mouth hangs open, he drools like a child and then he snores, not too loudly, softly, like he knows he can’t bother the world with himself or his rest and his hair that’s had a rebel strike of her own falls over his forehead.

she puts down her maps and documents and leans on the chair, tilting her head, staring at him with love and adoration;

she can’t help herself but she gives herself a moment to just take him in like that-soft and at peace and then her heart bursts, she can’t command it to still, to stop-

she stands up and carefully like oh-so-many nights before, she walks over there, takes his face in her hands, rubs her thumb under his dark circles, lean over and kisses his forehead;

he groans just a little as she pushes him down but his arm falls wide open for her to fit in to his side; when she leans her head over his heart and listens to his fast thrump thrump thrump she rubs her hand over his chest and tries to sooth it;

“Take it easy” she mumbles “I need him here.”

she doesn’t register when she falls asleep, she just knows she’s warm and that’s the best feeling in the world.

[ryqoshay]

OTP Ask Meme (Impatient Edition) YohaRiko

Again, I know the point of these things is to wait for followers to Ask questions from the list, but reading though this one got me thinking too much. About all of my flagships. And I wanted to answer all of the questions. And not wait for a handful to maybe be asked.

Anyway, credit again goes to @lonelypond​ for this version coming across my dash. Reblog that version if you want to do this thing correctly.

Also, just because I’ve already answered these here, I’ve expanded on some for various reasons and left others short if I believe the reasons are obvious. So if you still want to do the whole interactive thing, you can still ask for clarification or whatever.

And finally, there will be spoilers ahead for Happy Life, and to a lesser degree the AU, both for scenes I’ve written and posted, as well as some that remain in my Notes and WIP Warehouse. I’ll try to remember to link to the chapters mentioned.

1. Who wakes up first?

Riko. Yohane is very much not a morning person, especially after a late night of streaming.

2. Who wants to stay in bed just a little longer?

Yohane. See above. However, if she doesn’t have time commitments for the day, Riko may occasionally want to stay in bed for some activities other than sleeping.

3. Who takes longer getting ready?

Either, though they are fond of getting ready together and helping one another, so in these cases, they’re done at the same time.

4. When they can’t sleep, what do they do?

Yohane has many rituals for inducing sleep involving all manner of meditation, incense, herbal tea, topical rubs, nightmare wards and more. Whether or not they work is up to debate, but Riko is comforted by the sentiment, as portrayed in Dream Warden. Yohane herself takes comfort from being near those she loves, particularly Riko, while she sleeps.

5. Who falls asleep while watching a movie?

Yohane, though it depends on the type of movie.

6. Who falls asleep last, watching the other with a small affectionate smile?

More often Riko, though Yohane does enjoy watching a sleeping Riko from time to time.

7. Who comes up with the cheesy pick-up lines?

Yohane. 100% Yohane. And she is well aware of how cheesy they are. And she knows how much Riko loves them.

8. Who gets extremely competitive playing Mario Kart?

Yohane gets competitive over games in general.

9. Who accidentally pushes a door instead of pulling?

Yohane is more likely to do so, though Riko can be absentminded on occasion.

10. Who sets the other’s ringtone to something loud and obnoxious behind their back?

Yohane.

11. Who rearranges the bookshelf/DVD shelf in alphabetical order?

Both have their reasons for their particularness in displaying their shelving; Riko likes to be able to quickly locate her favorite doujin while Yohane is considerate of the background for her ritual streams.

12. Who does the hands-over-the-eyes “Guess Who” thing?

Yohane. With as many different attempts at different voices and accents as she can.

13. Who points out a dog when they see one?

Early on, both, though for different reasons; Yohane out of excitement and Riko out of fear. Later, Yohane retains her excitement while Riko becomes more lax in her reactions.

14. Who’s prone to road rage?

Yohane.

15. Who’s prone to wearing socks indoor (or to sleep)?

Either

16. Who reminds the other to put on sunscreen before going to the beach (or pool)?

Yohane knows she burns easily and is pretty good at remembering, though Riko is mindful that her girlfriend can be careless at times.

17. Who carries all the important documents while traveling?

Riko.

18. Who gets the window seat?

Probably Yohane. Likely accompanied by some statement about missing being able to fly under her own power.

19. Who puts their cold hands/feet on the other?

Yohane.

20. What do they argue about the most?

Early after moving in together, Yohane had a bad habit of bringing home stray pets, despite it being against the policy of the apartment complex, as depicted in Hibagon. These arguments subsided once the policy was changed, as depicted in Phobetor.

21. Who’s clumsier?

Yohane, though Riko certainly has her moments.

22. Who texts more often?

Yohane.

23. Who is better with kids?

Yohane is better at keeping kids entertained with her antics while Riko is better at tending to their care, be it feeding them, calming them down when they’re upset or applying first aid; Yohane is pretty good with first aid as well, having had far too much practice on herself.

24. Who’s the better cook?

Debatable. As I mentioned in the Notes for A Roost for Weary Wings, Yohane is capable of producing higher quality results, but also fails more spectacularly. Riko may lack the skills and confidence to produce highly extravagant meals, but she is far more consistent in producing edible food.

25. Who mistakes salt for sugar?

Riko. Despite what one may assume from my prior answer. Yohane will still eat it, not only because she has a strange sense of taste, but also because her beloved Riri made it for her and she will be damned before letting it go to waste.

26. Who puts the fork in the microwave?

Possibly Yohane.

27. Who cooks at 2 in the morning?

Yohane.

28. Who lets the microwave play the loud beeping sound at 1 a.m.?

Definitely Yohane.

29. Who licks the spoon when they’re baking brownies?

Yohane. She’ll even bring her own spoon, as depicted in Valentine’s Taste Test.

30. Who likes doing the dishes?

Riko doesn’t mind it. Yohane dislikes it but is willing to balance the workload after Riko cooked.

31. Who has bigger cravings? What are they?

For food, especially exotic or exceptionally spicy food? Yohane. Although she does have a bit of a sweet tooth, as her favorites would imply. For enacting scenes from her favorite doujinshi with her girlfriend? Riko.

32. Who remembers what the other one always orders at a restaurant?

Both, though for slightly different reasons. Riko believes it is romantic to know certain things about one’s partner. Yohane believes it is the duty of a fallen angel to know such things about their little demons… or fellow angels?

33. How do they eat ice cream? What’s their favorite flavors?

Yohane will often eat too fast and give herself a headache. Her favorite flavors are those of her favorite foods, chocolate and strawberry. Riko eats slower, more often out of a sundae dish than a cone, in part because a dish is better for eating at her pace, but also because it’s easier for Yohane to “steal” a bite or two. She enjoys Yohane’s favorites, but is also fond of mint and vanilla.

34. Do they go on dates? What are they like?

Absolutely. Riko prefers going to museums or orchestra performances, though she has dragged Yohane to several doujin stores over the years. Yohane prefers higher energy environments like amusement parks, though she has dragged Riko to several gothic Lolita clothing stores and occult shops over the years. Both girls look forward to events like Comiket.

35. What do they smell when they smell Amortentia?

Riko smells the slightly sulfuric scent of boiling eggs her parents made often while she was growing up, the clean, salty air of Uchiura, and a spicy, sweet and earthy scent to which she cannot match a specific memory. Yohane smells sweet black lilies, the lingering smoke from a myriad of incense that always permeates occult shops, and a spicy, sweet and earthy scent to which she cannot match a specific memory.

The last scent for both is an idea I had while Googling random stuff for this question. It’s basically how one website describe the smell of Dragon’s Blood resin when burned as incense. I want to bring it up in a scene or two in both HL and HL(AU), though there will be a difference between the kinds found here on Earth and up in Heaven, which may end up as a minor connecting plot point.

I realize this leaves Riko without something that she knows is directly related to Yohane, but I was trying to avoid using incense too much, as it already had three entries between them. Also, it technically is related to Yohane, she just doesn’t realize it right away. I’m hoping whatever I write someday will make that connection for her. Not that she’ll ever smell Amortentia in HL, but…

36. Which one is the secret snuggler?

It’s no secret that Yohane loves her snuggles. Riko is quieter about her desires, but can be quite insistent, nonetheless.

37. Which one offers their jacket to the other when they complain they feel cold?

Riko. Yohane is far more vocal about her discomfort, especially when it comes to temperature.

38. Who reaches for the other one’s hand while driving?

Riko is more likely to do so, though Yohane might as well. That said, I don’t believe I have them owning a vehicle in HL, so this probably won’t come into play anytime soon in my works.

39. Who leaves little notes in the other one’s lunch?

Riko, as the more consistent cook of the pair, she is more likely to make their lunch bentos for the day. (Bonus: What does it say?) Casual reminders of her love for her Yocchan.

40. Who is the most affectionate?

Both are quite affectionate, though Yohane is far more likely to initiate, especially in public though even in private.

41. Who is the big spoon/little spoon?

Riko is most often the big spoon. Though Yohane might try to have one believe elsewise.

42. What is their favorite feature of their partner?

Riko loves Yohane’s smile when she is passionate about something, be it her streams or games or whatever. Yohane loves the way Riko’s fingers dance across the keyboard.

43. What is the first thing that changes when they realize they have feelings for the other?

Yohane becomes increasingly aware of Riko’s behavior and attitude toward Chika and has to make a conscious effort to avoid holding anything against the idol group’s leader; she likes Chika as a friend, after all, and is thankful that she brought her into the group in the first place. Riko starts to include Yohane in her fantasies.

44. What are their nicknames for each other?

Yocchan and Riri

45. Who worries the most? Over what?

Riko is constantly concerned that Yohane’s abysmal luck will eventually cause her actual harm, as in more than just catching a cold or getting a scrape or small cut. Yohane also fears that her abysmal luck will adversely affect Riko.

46. Who initiates kisses?

Yohane all the time, in public and in private. Riko, in private.

47. Who says I love you first? How did it happen?

Yohane said it first in Revelations.

48. Who tells their friends/family about their relationship first?

That’s actually a good question. I haven’t decided yet for this ship. I mean I have plans for revealing that the blonde Mari knows, but as for the couple actually telling people… hrm… Off the top of my head, I’d be more likely to say Yohane.

49. What do they do when they’re away from each other?

Both are quite capable of entertaining themselves without the other. Riko can play the piano and Yohane can play her games until their fingers cramp if they are not actively doing something together. And they have Phobetor and Prelude to pet and take on walks and play with. It’s not until bedtime that they become more aware of the other’s absence.

50. Who gets overwhelmed by small acts of kindness?

Depends. Yohane is more the emotional rollercoaster and could easily be overwhelmed by kindness from the girl for whom she held a one-sided crush for far too long. Riko is also likely to moved, though more through something that fits into some trope she loves in her doujin; good thing Yohane can be quite genre-savvy when she wants.

[pricetagofficial]

The Archer -Part 7

Warnings: Language, prank war (I’m sorry, 2 am me had a moment), again give it another chapter or so until the cringe slows down.

Part Eight

Word Count: 5167.... (Holy shit I’m sorry)

Tag list: @kishony-the-geek​ @idkmanicantenglish @catxsnow @unknowntoanyone @starxfires

A/N: This goes to my girl Amanda, hope you feel better! Also, again i am sorry for the blegh you are about to read.

As Rory healed, she was forced to stay out of the action. Every night she would attempt to put on her suit and every night she would be derailed. It had been a week and Alfred finally gave in on letting her out of bed rest, not that she minded it all that much with Tim joining her every day.

He would lead her out on short walks, make sure her wound was dressed properly, and let her fall asleep in his arms. Tim couldn't ignore the feeling in his stomach he had every time he was around her, and it got worse every time she smiled at him, laughed, or even looked at him.

There was no way he had that kind of feelings for Rory, she was his best friend and didn't want to ruin their friendship. But he never felt as happy as he was whenever he was around her, sure she was a little cynical and hard to understand sometimes but it's what made Rory, Rory, and Tim wouldn't want to change her for the world.

Of course, all of their time spent together did not go unnoticed. Unknown to them, Dick Stephanie and now Roy and Jason were all conspiring against the two of them. Dick, Jason, and Stephanie knowing Tim as well as they did could tell that Tim was falling hard for Rory and according to Roy, this was as close as she got to someone. She never let anyone get close to her these days and it amazed Roy just how close they were getting.

So naturally, they organized a secret meeting with just the four of them. They met down in the Bat cave because Rory was officially banished from it because she wouldn't listen to Bruce when he said no patrol. His last resort was calling Oliver and that was when she quit trying.

"So obviously, our little Timmy has a thing for Rory. What do you guys think we should do about this situation?" Dick asked, leaning against the wall.

"Well, I say we should convince him to take her out on a date," Stephanie suggested. "I can try and give him suggestions without being suspicious."

"No offense Steph, but you are one of the most suspicious people we know. Maybe that's not the greatest idea." Jason interjected. "Besides, Rory is still on house arrest and she can't go anywhere. We need to get them to admit they have feelings, maybe not to each other but to one of us." Roy finished.

"They have a point, so maybe just ease them into the idea of possibly liking the other," Dick said and pushed himself off the wall. "Now, I need to ready for patrol. It's Jason's night off so he's going to be keeping an eye on Rory and maybe do some digging. Of course, you and Jess are welcome to join us like usual."

Roy grinned, "Count us in Grayson."

Hours later, everyone was out on patrol with Barbara and Alfred down in the Bat cave while Rory was with Jason sat in the home theater. They were watching one of the many versions of Romeo and Juliet, Rory had no idea that Jason was a major literature buff and loved to read.

"Why are we watching this sappy romantic tragedy again?" she asked, leaning back in her seat as she ate low sodium popcorn. Alfred being Alfred, made sure that Rory got the food and nutrients she needs and also that she didn't eat anything too hard on her stomach because she was still on the mend.

"Because I wanted to. After watching My Fair Lady three times with you, I had 'I Could Have Danced All Night' stuck in my head." he explained, eating some of his popcorn. Rory gave him a look, "That's not terrible. It's a great song, one of my favorites."

"I was humming it in public, you're lucky Dick or the gremlin didn't catch me. Also, of course, Replacement would watch whatever you asked him too so he has watched more than I have. It seems he would do anything for you." Jason said, popping another piece in. "Besides, what is your obsession with this movie?" he asked, looking over at her ignoring Romeo confessing his love to a balcony in the middle of the night.

"My mother watched it with me for the first time when I was about four, and it stuck with me. I remember wanting to be Eliza Doolittle and tried to dress in my mother's fancy clothes and attempt to try a British accent." Rory said with a forlorn look on her face. "I've been watching it every night because it's something I can fall asleep too."

"Have the nightmares gotten bad again?" he asked, sitting up more to look at her better. Rory gave him a slow nod and he swore under his breath. "I told you, you can come and find me any time if they get too bad," he said and pulled her into a hug.

"I know, it's just that Tim is so adamant that I sleep. He wants me to heal quickly because he is so worried. I can tell that he still blames himself, I see it in his eyes every time it's mentioned or he gets a glance at the bandages. I just hope he isn't going to do anything reckless without me around." she sighed and leaned into Jason's hold relaxing slowly.

"Well, know that Dick, Bruce, Damian, Steph, and I will take care of him. Have been for a few years now, princess," he said with a chuckle. "There is no trouble he can get himself into that we can't get him out of."

Rory let a smile spread on her face. "Thanks, Jason, and speaking of Tim I need a way to get him back for picking me up over his shoulder. I said that I would attack the thing he loves most, but what is that?" she asked.

Jason was half tempted to say her but decided against it. Instead, he went with a better option. "Timbo loves coffee and computers. Maybe you could do something with those," he suggested. "But if this gets turned into a prank war, you are on your own princess. I will not save your ass if he has better pranks than you."

"Gee, such a great friend you are." she laughed, wincing from the sudden movement. Jason gave her a look and she saw it from the corner of her eye. "Stop looking at me like that, getting it from Tim is bad enough."

Jason put his hands up and sat back in his chair again. "Alright, sorry. Do you have any ideas on what to do with his coffee or computer?" he asked.

Rory grinned and turned her head to look at him, "I might have a few up my sleeve."

That night before she went to bed, she and Jason enacted their plan to sabotage Tim's coffee. The two of them made sure that they were up before everyone and went down to the kitchen and saw Alfred cooking, with a fresh pot of coffee brewing. The house rule was that no one was allowed to touch the pot until Tim had his first cup.

The two of them talked with Alfred as everyone began to file in. First was Dick, then it was Damian, Roy, Stephanie, Jesse, and Bruce. Bruce made his way over to Rory and looked at her, "How are you feeling?" he asked.

"I'm feeling good." she smiled. "I'm excited for the day."

Bruce gave her and Jason odd looks when Tim finally entered the kitchen. As they predicted, Tim went straight for the coffee pot and poured his coffee and grabbed the milk and sugar. He poured a bit of each in before stirring it and taking a sip.

No sooner did the coffee touch his lips, that he spat it out all over the floor. "What the fuck!?"

Rory and Jason tried to hide their smiles, as everyone else laughed at Tim's disturbed face but Tim saw them and narrowed his eyes. "What the hell did you two do to my coffee?" he glared.

"I may or may not have switch the sugar out for kosher salt," Rory said with a laugh, covering her mouth. "This is payback for picking me up over your shoulder, I did say that I would attack what you loved most, and here we are."

"Then why is he laughing too?" Tim looked at Jason who was trying to keep his mouth shut.

"Why, Timothy dear. It was his idea."

Jason looked at Rory with a bewildered expression, "It was not my idea! It was hers." but Tim didn't seem to believe him.

"I'm gonna kill you, Todd." Tim frowned and charged at Jason, who got up quickly and took off down the hall wanting to avoid coffee deprived Tim, for coffee deprived Tim was scarier than Damian on a bad day.

"Miss Aurora, would you please tell me where you and Master Jason put the sugar? I would like to have sweet tea, not salty this afternoon." The tone of Alfred's voice was disapproving, but his eyes betrayed him. It seemed that he had thought Rory and Jason's prank was funny.

"Sure thing Alfred." Carefully she got up and walked over to a cabinet where she had stashed the real container of sugar and gave it to the butler. "I can help clean up the mess?" she asked with a small smile.

As the week progressed, Rory grew more and more anxious about whether Tim would try and get her back or not. According to the others, especially Damian, it would be more likely than not that he would try and get her back so she chose to watch her back just in case.

Alfred had declared her wound healed for the most part, and Rory was once again allowed in the Bat cave but still not on patrol. She just had to work with Barbara and keep an eye on them and provide help if they needed it. It wasn't a bad job, Rory was a genius when it came to computers and enjoyed working with Babs who in turn taught her things while Roy and Jesse left for Star City to check on Oliver and let them know she was okay.

It was after one of those rough nights of patrol that Tim finally attacked.

Rory drug herself into the kitchen late one morning after Damian left for school and Dick went to work. Tim was in the cave, working on a case while Jason took some time to himself. Stephanie was down in the kitchen as well, munching on a bowl of dry cereal when Rory opened the fridge and pulled out the jug of orange juice.

Orange juice was one of Rory's favorite things, and Alfred had been wanting her to drink more of it because it gave her the vitamin c she was missing. Stephanie watched as Rory grabbed a glass and poured it mostly full. Placing the jug on the counter, Rory took a big gulp of the juice. What she got instead was not what she expected.

Almost immediately, she ran to the sink and spat it out gagging in the process. The taste was so horrible, Rory wanted to vomit. Quickly getting a new cup, she filled and drank water out of it multiple times to try and get the wretched taste out.

Only then did she realize that Stephanie had her phone out and was trying to hide her giggle. Narrowing her eyes, she glared at the blonde sitting on the counter. "Steph, what the hell was that."

"That, dear Aurora was cheesy orange juice. I opened a few packs on mac and cheese powder and poured it into the orange juice." Tim's voice sounded from the phone. Stephanie turned it around and saw Tim was video chatting her to see the reaction of the juice prank.

"You know what, dragon boy? This means war. I went easy on you with the salty coffee, so you better surrender now." she threatened, holding a wooden spoon in her hand. "Because this is going to get so much worse for you before it gets better."

And that's how the 6th Wayne Manor Prank War began.

The orange juice event had spread around the manor quickly. Stephanie not only video called Tim, but she managed to get a video of it and sent it to the entire Wayne Manor residence. Damian never let her forget her moment of shame mumbling something along the lines of "I always check my drinks for I ingest it, any civilized person would do the same." which earned him a whack on the back of the head from Dick, telling him to be nice.

Ever since she declared war, it was almost as if Bruce and Alfred were hiding, not wanting to get caught up in Rory and Tim's war. No one knew when Rory would strike next, and they didn't want to be caught in the middle of it or worse be the one to accidentally set of whatever she planned. Lucky for them, Rory wasn't pulling out the big stops yet, she went for another small prank.

It was simple, everyone knew that Tim had a specific cup he carried around. It was a basic white mug with the saying "World's best detective." Bruce's said "World's second best detective." Tim made the mistake of leaving it out on the counter one evening and Rory decided to leave a little message.

When the next morning came around, everyone was getting breakfast except Bruce and Barbara who were still in the cave working from the previous night. Tim was working still too, but he had come up for some coffee with the pot downstairs empty and no supplies to brew another pot.

When he entered the kitchen, only Dick, Jason, Damian, and Stephanie were in sight and were quietly eating their food. This set off red flags in Tim's mind, there was some reason all four of them were so quiet and he had a bad feeling about it. Grabbing the pot, he poured coffee into it and checked the sugar once more to make sure that it was not salt again even though it would be idiotic to repeat a prank.

Tim leaned against the counter and watched his siblings eat quietly as he sipped his coffee, but the second he took a sip the four of them started giggling. Quickly he removed his mug from his lips and inspected his coffee. "What's so funny?" he asked.

The four of them shrugged and went back to eating, something was not right. He knew there was nothing wrong with the drink itself, he had already tasted some and it was normal; so what made them laugh? He took another sip and they laughed some more. Again, Tim lowered his mug and this time felt his lip expecting something to be there. But nothing was.

Adjusting his grip, he felt something on the bottom of his cup and quickly he peeled it off to see that it was a stick note. He flipped it over to see the words "Aurora Queen is a mother fucking beast and will win this prank war."

Tim crumbled the note and saw that Jason was holding up his phone with Rory on a video call much similar to what he and Stephanie did. "See you got my note dragon boy, sticky notes don't lie. That was my last nice prank, Timothy, give up and I'll let you grovel for an hour instead of prolonging it." she grinned.

"Just you wait, songbird. I have a few tricks up my sleeves, you won't see them coming." Tim hit the red button and hung up the call. "Hey Damian, I'll drive you to school today yeah?" Damian gave Tim a skeptical look, he never wanted to drive him anywhere let alone drive period. What was he up to?

Rory sat in the kitchen later that day, reading a book when Stephanie walked in holding a bag from Burger King. "Hey Rory, I was out and got you something," she said and pulled out a box of ten-piece chicken nuggets, placing them in front of Rory. Everyone knew that these were her favorite and quickly grabbed the box.

"Thanks, Steph," and with her mouth salivating for the taste of Burger King nuggies she opened the box. What she was in the box was not chicken nuggets. Instead, they were replaced with the worst thing on the planet, roasted brussels sprouts. Immediately Rory knew what this was. This was Tim's prank at getting back at her for the note, well it was time to stop playing nice.

With this newfound revenge, she quickly enlisted the help of Damian promising to do his homework for two weeks if he just 'accidentally' destroyed the coffee pot in the kitchen, which he did. Alfred replaced it and before anyone could notice, Rory printed out a sticker that said "Voice-activated" on it and had a list of commands underneath it.

Knowing how tired Tim has been, it was perfectly timed. This time she was in the kitchen with everyone to see the chaos that was tired Tim ensue. He trudged into the kitchen and saw the new pot with the label saying it was voice-activated.

He shrugged it off assuming it was some fancy high tech pot that just came out. Looking through the list of commands he said "Brew black coffee." Nothing happened. He said it twice more and still, nothing happened.

Rory and Jason, who had seen her labeling the pot bit back a grin watching a now tired, and irritated Tim yell at a coffee pot to make him coffee only for it to not be voice-activated at all. Alfred walked in and saw Tim still yelling and now insulting the pot. "Master Tim, what are you doing?"

"I'm trying to get some coffee." he grumped. "But this stupid ass pot won't work!"

"That's because it's not voice activated sir."

Tim's jaw dropped and he turned on his heel to see both Rory and Jason gone. Of course, he just fell for another prank. He was determined to win this war so he looked at Alfred, "Could you help me with something?"

"Of course, sir."

A couple of hours later, Jason and Rory were sat in the bat cave getting her wound checked once more. After a little poking a prodding, Jason deemed it healed. Her skin had healed together nicely and she didn't feel much pain moving anymore but she still had to take it easy and no patrol for at least another week.

Alfred had come down and told them that he had made his famous brownies if they would like any. Of course, if anyone knew anything it was that Alfred made amazing brownies and they were so good you would kill for them. Quickly, the two of them bolted up the stairs and into the kitchen where they saw Tim, Stephanie, Dick, and Damian all eating some of Alfred's famous brownies.

When they got to the pan and pulled back the foil, they frowned. There were no brownies in the pan, instead, there were several brown e's in the pan with the word 'gotcha' written on the underside of the foil. The two of them turned to look at Tim who was smugly enjoying his brownies.

"That's cold replacement, getting Alfred to help you and with the brownies no less," Jason said, sending his younger brother a glare. Rory was just as pissed if not more so, she had never tasted Alfred's brownies she has only heard of their greatness.

"This is for that voice-activated coffee bullshit," he said with a grin. Rory walked over, grabbed his plate, and shoved it into his face.

"And that's for involving poor Alfred." and she walked off.

Days had gone by and there was no retaliation prank by Rory and Jason, which worried everyone. Or so it seemed. This prank was very low key and it would take a very sharp eye, or nose more likely to notice it. Eight days had passed before Dick finally spoke up, he wasn't sure but to him, Tim had been smelling like dinner for the last few days and he was confused.

"Hey, Timmy, did you change your body wash or something? You smell like dinner." Everyone in the cave nodded in agreement, the only ones silent were Jason and Rory.

"Yeah Timbo, you smell like chicken soup." Stephanie laughed, "We all just assumed that you had changed something when you showered but with the look on your face and the sudden silence of the dynamic duo tells us otherwise."

Now that they had mentioned it, Tim's showers had been smelling like chicken soup. He just brushed it off as Alfred cooking, but he hadn't made anything chicken-related in two weeks. Rory sat in her seat with a wide smirk on her face, with Jason keeping a straight face but smiling with his eyes.

"What did you two do to my soaps?!" he cried, walking over to them.

"We didn't do anything to your soaps replacement, relax," Jason said, turning in his chair to polish his helmet once more. Rory however, kept looking at him.

"He's right, we did nothing to your soaps. The showerhead however is a different story dragon boy, or should I say chicken boy now?" she grinned. Tim's eyes widened and he ran upstairs to his shower and pulled off the showerhead. Once he pulled it off, three chicken bouillon cubes fell out and into the tub.

No wonder he had been smelling chicken soup, he had been showering in it for over a week!

Once everyone learned of the prank, they began to call him chicken boy which only fueled Tim's determination to get his final prank done. It was three days before Rory was allowed to join patrol again so the two of them decided to have a sit-down and talk about their prank war.

Rory had brought Jason and Tim surprisingly brought Damian with him. "What do you want to discuss chicken boy?" she asked with a grin.

"You are going back on patrol in a few days, right? Bruce wants this war of ours to end before then so I have a proposition. We get to play one final prank on the other, and we get help from one other person. Everyone else will decide who had the better prank at the end. I assume you are picking the walking dead over there and I picked Damian." Tim replied, Jason, making a rude hand gesture at the name.

"How did you get Damian to agree to help you? I bargained two weeks of his homework." Rory said crossing her arms.

"He promised not to say or do anything stupid for two weeks," Damian said, adjusting his stance behind Tim. Rory nodded, mentally applauding Tim for his choice of bribery and assistant.

"Alright Drake, I'm assuming we get tomorrow and the next day to enact our prank and the team with the best prank wins?" she asked, raising a brow. "And what does the winner get?"

"The winners get bragging right and an entire batch fo both Alfred's cookies and brownies," Tim said, leaning back into his chair. "Deal?" he stuck out his hand and Rory gave it a shake.

"Deal."

The next two days were total chaos, everyone in the manor knew of their final prank and they were scared just how far they were going to go with this. No one was more than Bruce and Alfred.

The first day and come and gone and nothing had happened, so if they were going to pull a prank it was going to be on day two, and Tim, Rory, Jason, and Damian were ready. The night before while Tim and Damian were out on patrol, Jason and Rory snuck into Tim's room and reorganized everything.

His dresser drawers were switched around, the files in his filing cabinet were rearranged, his containers were switched and so were the flies on his computer. Rory managed to hack into it and renamed every file and reorganize them so it looked like nothing had happened, making sure to leave no pattern for him to follow to put everything back the way it was. Then they crept into Damian's room and did the same, even though there was not much to reorganize.

Tim and Damian had gotten back from patrol later that night once Rory and Jason were asleep and put their plan to action. Under everyone's door, they left a note warning them to be careful opening the doors in the manor and to not sit on any of the chairs either.

Behind every door, they had duct-taped an air horn so once they opened it the horn would go off and under every chair, they could so when they sat, the horns would go off too. Once everything was done they retired for the night.

The four of them woke up at around the same time and the first casualty of the final prank was Tim. When he went to get dressed, he opened his drawer to find that his pants were where his underwear and socks should be. Taking this as a hint, Tim looked around to see that everything was different. How the hell did he not notice that, to begin with? Tim was always very particular about his stuff and those two knew and yet they messed with his stuff.

The next casualty was Damian who suffered from the same fate only it didn't bother him as much as it did Tim. It was easier to fix it and put it all back where it belonged, what irritated him was that he was roped into something that Drake had started. Being part of the prank was not what he agreed to. Damian shrugged and began to reorganize his room.

Jason and Rory were next. When they went down to breakfast, the door to the kitchen was left open slightly. Being as tired as they were after reorganizing Tim and Damian's rooms, they swung the door open only to be greeted with a very loud horn. Rory let out a scream and fell to the floor as Jason jumped three feet in the air.

Tim stood behind them with his arms crossed and a smirk on his face. "What happened Rory? You alright?"

Still, on the floor, Rory flipped him off. "Fuck you, dragon boy. You still seem to be in a good mood, so you haven't even seen the worst of what we did." Jason bent down to help her up, the two of them careful of the kitchen door this time. Rory moved it away from the wall and saw the air horn taped to the wall.

"Well played, I'm guessing you gave everyone else a heads up?" she asked, looking around everyone didn't seem as disturbed as she and Jason were but they were definitely laughing.

"I don't think I have ever seen Jason jump that high, or even move that fast." Dick laughed, eating a spoon of cereal. It was Jason's turn to flip him off and the two of them got breakfast, checking behind the fridge and cabinet doors. It was safe to say that they were slightly scared now.

What they weren't expecting was when they sat down on the only two open stools, more horns went off scaring the both of them again, this time flinging their food into the air. At this point Rory was pissed, that was twice he got her in five minutes. Was nowhere safe in the manor? Pulling the horn of her seat, she threw it at Tim's head who only caught it.

"Scared of a little horn songbird? I thought you were tougher than that." he grinned.

"Watch your back dragon boy, I might just try to throw you off a building." she threatened and got herself a new bagel because hers landed in one of the potted plants. Jason had gotten himself a breakfast sandwich and all the pieces were across the room.

With breakfast done and over an hour later, every room Rory and Jason walked into they opened the doors carefully and checked before the sat down on any suspicious chair. "I think we're safe on the couch, at least until he finds what we did to his-"

Jason was cut off by loud yelling, followed by what sounded like someone running downstairs. "You wanna try that again princess?" Rory asked and got up, ready to run if Tim was feeling a little murderous.

Tim slammed the door open, making a horn go open and scaring himself with Rory laughing at him. "What happened Timothy? Something wrong?" she asked with a grin. Tim stomped over and held out his laptop.

"What did you do to all of my cases!?" he yelled.

After a lengthy explanation, Rory fixed everything on his laptop to the way it was before. "Now, to decide the winner," she said and went down to the Bat cave, as the passage opened Rory, Jason and Tim made their way down. What Rory didn't know was that there were more horns hidden for them.

Not thinking that Tim would rig the chairs in the cave, both Jason and Rory plopped their butts down onto a chair only for them to jump off and onto the floor when the horn went off.

"Well, now that everyone is down here there is a matter for us to discuss," Dick said. "Who had the better prank?"

Almost everyone said Tim and Damian, apparently watching the two of them scream and jump every time there was a horn was funnier than watching Tim try and refigure out his room. Rory slumped in her spot and pouted. She was never going to hear the end of it from Tim nor Damian.

What made it worse was that they both get a batch of Alfred's cookies and brownies all to themselves. Twice now that Jason and Rory were denied that chocolatey goodness, but Tim and Damian did win fair and square even though Rory's earlier pranks were better. It seemed that Tim saved the best one for last and it's what got him the victory.

"Now that this prank war of your is settled, you two are going to be partnered on patrol again. Rory, you will be helping Tim with his case on Harley Quinn, Poison Ivy, and Cobblepott. You two will leave continue tomorrow as Alfred has requested she rest for at least another day to make sure she is healed enough to get back out." Bruce said.

"Also, please try not to start another prank war or anything for at least 6 months."

[archaneanscribe]

Somethin’ Special

You might recognize this from my ao3, but I want my writing to mainly be on this blog now. This fits into my personal canon for Archanea, so I thought it prudent to bring over. Ogma/Barst, post canon domestic fluff. Part of the Archanea Chronicles

It had been many months since the war had concluded, but each sunrise still felt like a new dawn to Ogma. Maybe it was because his life had never before been so idyllic as it was now, waking up whenever the mood struck him (even if that was usually first thing, out of habit), in the strong arms of a man he had thought he could only ever dream of being with. Crisp early fall mornings like these were especially his favorite, as the need for body heat gave him an excuse to cuddle up, but it wasn’t so cold that his zucchini’s were dying on him.

A twitch had him looking over at his sleeping partner. Barst was a heavy sleeper, likely from years of having slept on boats sailing the tumultuous seas. Not that Ogma was complaining, as it gave him time in the mornings to appreciate him. His husband’s blue hair splayed over the pillow, familiar swoop gone in favor of messy bedhead. His broad chest rising and falling slowly with each sleepy breath.

The small smile on his face when his dreams were pleasant, which was now a much more common occurrence than ever before.

Ogma only had a moment of this before Barst’s eye cracked open and he stretched out his arms, displacing the blanket that lay over them, “Goooood morning,” he said through a yawn, before rubbing some of the sleep out of his eyes. The former mercenary’s laugh came out in a low rumble, and he pecked the other’s shoulder, “Good morning.”

“We got anythin’ to do today?”

“Besides the usual? No.”

A grin started to spread over Barst’s face, “Well then I’ve got a suggestion, if you wanna hear it.”

Eyebrow raised, Ogma nodded, “Go ahead.”

“What’s say you and me just lay about all day inside? No choppin’ wood, no hunting, no gardening, no nothing. Just a cozy day in by the fire.”

“If we do that it’ll be more work tomorrow.”

“I know that! Sometimes,” Barst flushed, and he scratched his cheek sheepishly, “Sometimes a guy just wants to do something special. Even if it means breakin’ his back tomorrow.”

This brought a warmth to Ogma’s body and a smile to his face, “I didn’t say anything was wrong with it. You go get some firewood and I’ll grab breakfast.”

Not needing to be told twice, Barst hopped out of bed, quickly pulling on the clean tunic he had laid over the dresser. Some of his clothes had trouble fitting his particular...physique, so you could see almost all his muscles outlined against the fabric, a fact that Ogma appreciated day in and day out. Once ready, he saluted then blew a kiss to his husband, in that order, like he did every morning, and it never failed to put a smile on Ogma’s face.

---

Their small larder was modestly stocked, but held more than enough to two men of their age and size. Hardy, long lasting loaves of brown bread, stiff blocks of fragrant cheese, salted meats, and a variety of dried fruits and vegetables were stored in different baskets and clay containers, ensuring that they wouldn’t go hungry even in the harshest of months. For the most part what they ate was freshly grown, caught, or killed, so they hadn’t much need for fancy things that nobles had like white flour and sugar.

However, there was one thing that stood out from the rest. It was a small red box, made of fine mahogany with true gold accents, that sat next to their barrels of beer. In it were a variety of fine teas, a wedding gift from Caeda. It may have seemed strange, for two simple men like them to have a gift from the Queen herself, but in truth she was a common visitor to their humble abode.

Ogma caught himself smiling, thinking about the girl he met as simply a rough and tumble princess, who through grit and the power of love, became Queen of the united land. He couldn’t have been more proud to be at her side through the whole thing. Shaking his head fondly, he picked out a tea to brew, as this was a special occasion. He also grabbed a small loaf, one of their sweeter cheeses, and some dried apple slices, as well as an iron pot for the tea and two earthen mugs. Content with his haul, he walked out of the larder towards their main room, just in time for Barst to walk in with a bundle of logs in his arms.

“Fancy meeting’ you here,” Barst said with a grin, which is husband matched.

“Come here often?” he asked, picking up a log to toss into the fire place.

The other laughed, putting one in himself, then laying the others down on the ground beside it, “Only when there are handsome guys like you around.”

“You sure like flattery,” was Ogma’s reply, as he struck the flint a few times to get a fire started, and when he was finally content, he grabbed the put and filled it up with the jug of water they kept inside, making a mental note that it needed to be refilled. Barst took this from him, and hung it over the fire, “Not flattery, I’m just an honest man, is all, and I say what I see.”

Unable to say anything in return, Ogma just made his way over to embrace his husband, reveling in the start it gave him. The depth of his appreciation for...all this, was boundless, and he wasn’t nearly good enough with words to verbalize it. He was always a man of action instead, never really given the choice not to be really. He squeezed Barst’s waist with one arm and buried the other hand in his hair.

Patting his back, Barst returned the gesture just as tightly, smiling into the crook of his neck. Ogma had a few inches on him, not more than enough than made him need to stretch up for kisses on the mouth, but it was nice to not always be the biggest guy in the room. After a very long, warm few moments, they pulled apart at the sound of boiling water, ready to be poured into a cup of tea.

---

Once they had eaten their filling meal and drank their hot beverage, they pulled their chairs over to sit in front of the steady fire, At first, they didn’t say much, as neither of them really needed it. They’d been through thick and thin, through battles and peacetimes, through times of ache and times of joy. They knew one another like the backs of their own hands.

It felt...nice, to be understood by someone like this.

Finally, Ogma did speak, heart full of such emotion that his mouth couldn’t withstand the flood any longer, “I said most of this at the wedding, but, before I meet Caeda I didn’t expect much out of life. Still didn’t even after I started work in Talys. Thought I’d spend most of my life fighting for other people, even if I happened to like those people more than before. But...”

He reached out his hand to grab his husband’s, enjoying the feeling of their rough, calloused palms rubbing against each other’s, “Then I found you. A half dead pirate looking for work. There was a look in your eye that told me I could trust you, so I did. Best decision I ever made. You’ve always had my back, even when I asked you to fight in a war you had no stake in. Whenever I looked around, there you were.”

“You know, you don’t talk as much as most other folk, but when it comes to important things, you always beat me to the punch,” squeezing the hand in his, Barst looked into the fire, watching the flames dance around, “I wasn’t really all that happy as a pirate. I never much liked stealing from people just tryin’ to live their lives, but there wasn’t much choice for a guy like me, poor and with more brawn than brain. You showed me that even if it’s hard, there’s always a choice. When you held your hand out that day, my whole life turned around. I ain’t got the words for how much I appreciate what you’ve done for me.”

The warmth in the room rose, and it was not solely from the fireplace before them. They leaned in, eyes fluttering shut, to meet their mouths in a long and languid kiss. Ogma’s hand cupped Barst’s face, and the man groaned as his husband’s thumb rubbed small circles in his cheek. They stayed like this for a minute, enjoying the feeling of their lips moving slowly against each other’s. When they did pull away, they sported grins reserved exclusively for the consumption of the other.

“Ten years ago, when we met, I never expected this is where we would be,” Ogma confessed.

Barst nodded, “Can’t say the same for myself. Knew you’d be the guy I married the moment I laid eyes on you.”

“More flattery,” Ogma rolled his eyes as he leaned in to steal another kiss, and all the world’s troubles faded away in the face of the peace they brought each other in that small cottage in an unimportant forest in the countryside. No matter the lives they lived before, they knew that now they’d always moments like these, together.•

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

Once Bitten, Twice Stupid prt 167 prt 1

167

Having Coran come, both Lance and Curtis were now asleep on the sofa. With a little quintessence manipulation, Curtis was asleep in moments, Coran feeling it the best option in light of his episode during the night. Lance’s quintessence had been manipulated too, though Coran had done that for pain reasons. Massaging Lance’s lower back, the sounds the vampire made verged on pornographic as the pain was eased leaving Lance falling asleep naturally against him. Keith cuddling him close, knowing he was going to be sad about Curtis leaving with Shiro and Coran after what Lance would deem a short visit. It was enough to make a man’s head ache, though that might also be due to a lack of sleep and paint fumes from getting a bit carried away with his brother and their quest for perfectly painted walls.

Sitting on the coffee table, Shiro had his head in his hands. Matt hadn’t teased him at all, and without Matt’s teasing things felt tense. Keith wished he knew how to break the tension, yet he also knew Shiro might just snap if one of them tried to. Rieva had gone for a run to work off her anger over the situation. Like him, she wasn’t so much mad at Curtis, just more shocked none of them had heard him make such a mess. The blood had stained, ruining Lance’s kitchen table. Lance assured him it’d happened before and he’d take care of it, but they wouldn’t have to take care of it if the demon wasn’t so close to the surface thanks to fucking Honerva. She was just the gift that kept on giving, even from the grave.

Curtis blamed himself entirely, yet remembered nothing about being in the kitchen and destroying anything. Krolia had it from Lance, but everything in the fridge had been coated with blood, the only things surviving were the things inside the containers. Forgetting that she’d made Lance a cup of tea, his boyfriend was spared as Keith’s caffeine deprived brain had him scull back the tea. It wasn’t until he’d drained the mug that he found it was both tea and salt had been added instead of sugar. His mother needed reading lessons from what he could tell. The sugar lived in the sugar canister that clearly read “Sugar”. She would have had to move away from the sugar to find the cooking salt in the spice rack. Keith couldn’t be completely angry at her. She’d totally stepped up. Calmly they’d cleaned the kitchen to as close to Lance’s standards as they could get it, happily pottering around in a way that reminded him of Mami. When he thought like that, it only made sense that Lance would turn to her for maternal comfort. Part of him absolutely hated cleaning up Curtis’s mess, but for him to be there doing it really did show him that Lance could turn to him and that’s all he wanted.

“We should leave”

Shiro’s words hurt. His brother sounded defeated. Manipulating Curtis’s quintessence had been at Curtis’s request. The man didn’t trust himself to be awake, though Lance kept trying to tell him that these things happen. Matt backed him up over how easy it was to let your ego slip and do something you didn’t mean to, but for Curtis it seemed to be the ultimate betrayal to ever do anything against Lance. Lance hadn’t had the best start with Curtis, they both thought the other one hated them and Keith clearly remembered how upset that made his boyfriend. Now the pair were as thick as thieves. They’d both tried to protect each other in an impossible situation. A situation he still hadn’t brought any closer to a resolution for Lance as he still hadn’t let him go to the house.

Maybe it was the time with him mum spent cleaning, but it stirred up the memory of his first kill. He’d wanted to go back. He’d forgotten about it seeing how many times he’d had to kill since. Or maybe it was the way Lance looked at his kitchen once it’d been cleaned, relief like a burden lifted making his boyfriend smile.

“I think that is a very good idea number one. To think the demon would act so violently in the presence of kin. Had I known, I would have come myself with you”

Keith didn’t get the “kin” bit. Was it because demons came from hell and Lance had a close connection with the darkness and death? Sighing to himself more than anything, he replied

“You didn’t. None of us did. Look, Lance gets it, and if he wasn’t pregnant I would be okay with you guys staying... but when I think about him hurting Lance I can’t. Not just because of Lance and our twins, but because Curtis would never forgive himself. I’m sorry, Shiro. You’ve been so patient with Lance...”

“I get it. I wouldn’t want a demon around my pregnant boyfriend either”

Shiro sounded bitter, Keith’s heart hurting a fresh for his brother

“It’s not... you guys are never not welcome here. Curtis isn’t in a good place mentally and I don’t want him going through something worse. Coran, will the summoning still happen?”

“Three days time. I’ve cleared the lowest level of VOLTRON. The seals and charms are in place, yet there’s an ingredient or two that are still brewing”

“Can we be there?”

Coran shook his head

“I’m sorry. The only ones allowed in the chamber will be Allura, myself, Curtis and Shiro”

His brother hadn’t told him that bit

“Shiro?”

“He will anchor Curtis’s soul to the realm as the demon is summoned. For someone like you and Lance to be there would upset your bonds with each other. You may stay on an upper floor during the summoning, but I cannot allow you down to that level”

“Is that because you keep saying Lance and I are soulmates?”

“Yes. Your souls are so tightly linked it is very remarkable. I do not take manipulating his quintessence today lightly. Even though it alleviated his pain, there is a still a slight disturbance. You surely noticed the physical changes you have gone through by his side”

“The physical?”

“Increased stamina. Overly protective. You notice his scent that others would miss. The love you share is woven down to the base of your very being. All of you are remarkably connected with your quintessence. Even you Shiro. The demon’s own quintessence is leaking freely. We will grasp it by this quintessence and pull it into our plain before banishment to the demon realm”

Hang on

“Is it safe to do that? Won’t Shiro be hurt?”

Coran huffed, hand coming up to brush his long orange hair back from his face with a smirk

“A low level demon holds nothing against a fae”

Did Coran just totally brag about being a fae? Keith didn’t know what to say about that. Coran was cooky and hooky, but all he ever bragged about was Allura and Lance... and his adventures in his youth

“No need to stare, number two! We’ll get this pesky demon dealt with, then start planning the wedding!”

“Who’s wedding? What?”

“Shiro’s and Curtis’s of course! Now, we really should leave. I estimate Curtis won’t rouse for several more hours, plenty of time to get located in VOLTRON, all nice and snug as a bug. Oh, I have something for Lance the next time you two pop in!”

Coran stated Shiro’s sudden up coming wedding with such certainty that Shiro gaped at him. Keith felt like saying “Welcome to the club”, where all their friends were off in la-la land and people suddenly got married after ridiculously short spans dating. Instead the hunter carefully shook Lance’s shoulder

“Babe, Shiro and Curtis are leaving. You wanna say bye, right?”

Lance nodded as he yawned. His boyfriend tangling himself in the blanket as he moved suddenly to hug Shiro, half falling off the sofa as he did. Sucking his lips in, Keith bit the top one lightly to keep from laughing as Lance all but climbed up Shiro’s legs before wrapping his arms around his waist. Shiro’s expression was a kind of resigned sigh if a sigh could be an expression

“Lance?”

“He’ll be alright... I’m not mad at him, but if you need anything you better call me or I’m going to be sad”

Shiro’s moves were jerky as he placed his hand on Lance’s shoulder

“I’m sorry...”

“Don’t you dare apologise. He didn’t mean to and I won’t have anyone saying he did on purpose. We’re a pack and our pack mate just needs a little more attention right now”

Shiro tilted his head, Keith snorting at his brother who seemed a few moments behind as his brain short circuited over “wedding”

“He means we’re family. And family rely on each other. He’s right though. If you don’t ask for help or call me, I’m throwing all your bobble heads out”

That got Shiro kicked into gear. Sliding his hand down, his brother leaned forward to hug Lance the best he could

“Thank you”

“Curtis is “Dude-bro” for life. So are you. I wish you guys could have stayed longer, but right now Curtis can’t handle the stress and paranoia. Make sure you tell him I won’t watch any of our shows without him. We’re going to have a marathon once that demon fucks off”

Shiro chuckled

“I’ll be sure to”

“And make sure he knows that I’m not mad. I know I told him and I’ll keep telling him, but it’s really important you remind him that none of us are. I know from personal experience”

“I’ll make sure he knows”

“And make sure you eat. And shower. And sleep. And call Keith. Like three times a day”

Lance was getting bossy in all the right ways. His tone taking on the tone he usually used when scolding them for their misbehaviour

“I will. You make sure you get some rest”

“I’m gonna. Gonna make Keith take a nap too. I want to work on the nursery with you guys properly... and get photos of uncle Shiro hard at work”

“Sounds good, kiddo. We’ll see you in a few days”

“I really wish you didn’t have to go”

“I know. Next time we’ll stay longer”

“Good. Okay, babe, I think I’m stuck between your brother’s legs”

That wasn’t happening. Lance was his boyfriend and he wasn’t sharing. Shuffling forward on the sofa, Keith pulled on Lance’s shoulders, Lance letting himself be pulled up as he put a little vampire strength in it, winding up in Keith’s lap suddenly. Leaning back, Lance sighed at him

“Sorry. My strength is playing up again”

“Don’t be sorry. Aren’t you going to say goodbye to the others?”

“Yeah. Thanks for coming out Coran, and Krolia, thanks for helping with the kitchen. You’re welcome to come stay any time you want to”

“Don’t tell her that, she might never leave”

Lance giggled at him. His boyfriend was definitely the wrong side of sleepy

“That’s okay with me. She’s part of our pack too. And so’s Coran”

Patting Lance’s leg, Keith felt he should probably be polite

“I know. Let me up and I’ll show them to the door”

“No need, number two. We’ll see ourselves out. Make sure you two take it easy. You’ll be back at work next week, and I’m afraid you’ll have to hit the ground running”

Keith groaned deeply. Work. Ugh. Lance shook his head at him

“None of that. I’m proud of you, babe. The world needs a hot grizzled manly hunter out there”

With his heart going stupid, Keith blushed hard. Mouth opening and closing as he didn’t know what to say. He was having a thought and having a thought that meant having to do a thing that wasn’t doing the do. He just knew it felt like the right thing to do... but first he needed to do the sleep.

*

“Baaaaabe. Babe, wake up...”

Scrunching his eyes tightly closed, Keith tried not to be awake. He’d been awake with his eyes closed for a little while now. Hand resting on Lance’s belly as his boyfriend kissed his cheek. Tomorrow was the doing day. Feeling Lance’s hand slide down to his underwear, being awake didn’t seem like such a bad idea anymore. Wrapping his arm around Lance, he hugged his boyfriend close, Lance laughing softly at him

“Having fun?”

“Mmm... I want to suck your dick. But only if you’re down for that”

“I think I’m up for that”

They’d both felt down with Shiro, Curtis, Krolia, and Coran leaving. Rieva apologised for her aggression, but the mood kind of felt somber all day. Writing off the day they’d gotten pizza from Sal’s before both couples curled up in the living room for some mindless TV in the middle of the night. The following morning Lance was on the phone to Hunk when Keith finally forced himself out of bed. Somehow the pair had managed to spend the last two hours on the phone. Hunk had everything explained to him, Lance’s mood much better for it. Their walking ray of sunshine had brought comfort food, the day spent having some seriously serious gaming in which Lance took no prisoners murdering zombies, while Keith seemed to only get himself murdered in game. Keith knew most of it was for his benefit, seeing he really couldn’t stop thinking about Shiro, and appreciated the thought. Thinking about what he had planned, Keith had coaxed Lance to bed early, now he seemed to be paying the price.

Smiling at him, Lance moved to straddle his waist. Normally he was the one initiating things, when Lance wasn’t in heat, but Lance could be a horny little shit and he loved when he was. God. This was most definitely the best way to wake up. Moving his hands to his boyfriend’s hips, Lance leaned down to kiss him, Keith having to lean up thanks to his boyfriend’s belly. Deciding three quick pecks were enough, his boyfriend drew back with a smirk. Running his finger down Keith’s chest, Lance pouted at him

“Babe, if I told you you had a nice body, would you hold it against me?”

“I don’t know... Are you a parking ticket? Because you’ve got fine written all over you”

“I hope you know CPR, you’re taking my breath away”

“Babe, you’re already dead”

Lance sighed as he shook his head, that pout coming back

“Here I was trying to be alluring. Now you’re saying I’m a stiff with a stiffy?”

“Yep... but your arse is seriously out of this world”

“Keep that up and you’re going the right way for a spanked bottom, Keith Kogane”

Raising an eyebrow, he could kind of support that

“Do you promise?”

“What am I going to do with you?”

“Suck me off?”

“Maybe I’ll eat you out... take my time to enjoy this meal beneath me”

“Oh, so now I’m a snack?”

“I’ll snack on you!”

Leaning down, Lance bared his fangs. Keith laughing as his boyfriend pretended to be a mindless vampire, nomming at thin air

“Babe! Babe... I thought you wanted to be sexy”

Pulling back, Lance nodded at him. Keith trying to compose himself

“I do. I’ve wanted to do this for a while now”

“What?”

“This. Us. You beneath me...”

Oh. Keith blinked, not sure he was getting what Lance wasn’t saying. Did his boyfriend want to fuck him and was settling with sucking him off? Or was Lance content with sucking him off? He didn’t bottom because he didn’t enjoy the sensation. Lance was pretty content bottoming... more than content, yet he also knew his boyfriend had other needs. Not to just be fucked but to be the one doing the fucking. That’s why the pocket pussy lived within hands reach. It was their compromise. Silently agreed upon to help Lance cope with his vampire ego’s desire to be on top.

“Babe, there’s no need to look so confused. If you’re not into it, that’s fine”

“No. No... I’m definitely into it, and I’d like to be in you... I just... Do you want me to do anything?”

His words failed to say what he wanted them to say

“I want to touch you. That’s what I want”

“But what about you?”

“I want tonight to be about you. I want you to fall apart and I want to taste you...”

Keith liked when pleasure was a two way street. Sometimes it was about just scratching that itch, yet even then they never left each other wanting. He didn’t feel ashamed in loving Lance, nor ashamed of loving Lance. Unlike Coran he couldn’t believe in soulmates. But he did believe that Lance was the only one he wanted for the rest of his life. And shit if his brain power hadn’t shorted out at his boyfriend’s words

“I better not keep you waiting then”

“Thanks for the meal!”

His boyfriend was an idiot.

His boyfriend was an idiot with a very skilled mouth... and Keith was an idiot lost to his skills. Tearing off Keith’s underwear, literally, Lance hooked his legs over his shoulders and buried himself between them without a moments hesitation. Lance might be a good God fearing vampire, but the things he did were utterly sinful. Starting off by sucking him, Keith moaned as Lance hollowed his cheeks, taking him right to the base like he was born to. His lover’s hands on his legs, lulling him into total bliss before his eyes were shooting wide at the thumb rubbing against his opening. Chuckling around his dick, his boyfriend pulled off leaving a trail of saliva and precum the tip of Keith erection to Lance’s perfect little lips

“Relax for me, baby. I’m going to eat you out”

That didn’t require a thumb there. For a moment Keith wondered if he should maybe be ashamed with his legs hanging open, leaving everything on display... but this was Lance, who’d seen it all before. With a single stiff nod of permission, his boyfriend smiled down at him

“Don’t worry, babe. I’m going to eat you out then suck you off for dessert. You taste so fucking good... just relax for me and let me take care of you... look at you... you’re so damn beautiful, babe”

Fisting their sheets, Keith lost it. The heat pooled in his belly was bordering painful. His dick dribbling precum that pooled at the bend of his body. Lance’s tongue working the taunt rim of his opening, no where he ever expected to enjoy a tongue so much. The pleasure building so badly that he knew a single touch against his straining erection would have him coming apart. This was what Lance did to him. He drew out all his deepest carnal desires and stripped his human form to that of the hungry beast inside. Damn... that tongue... he didn’t care that Lance’s teeth would occasionally press against his skin when that tongue was magical

“Babe... fuck... I want to come”

The hunger in Lance’s eyes sent a shiver down his spine as his boyfriend pulled back

“You can come any time you want”

He was wired too, but that wiring wasn’t quite there with being eaten out tonight. Underneath the fog in his brain, he kept thinking about Lance’s needs. His wishes... how maybe if his tongue felt so fucking good that he could cry, then maybe something bigger wouldn’t be bad

“I want you...”

“You want me to do what?”

“Touch me more...”

Lance nodded, moving Keith’s legs apart a little more before sinking his mouth back over Keith’s dick. Keith’s hand shot to grab Lance by the hair. The muscles of his inside thighs and stomach jumping and twitching as he tried not to come

“Not like that... in me... I want to... try”

Lance backed off completely. Keith’s orgasm still so damn close that it hurt, but his boyfriend’s behaviour had him confused. Did Lance not want to try... that?

“Babe?”

“Sorry... I’m... you want to...?”

“I know you get urges too...”

Those were the wrong words. Lance immediately frowning at him. Why did his scent have to be damn addictive? And so very telling?

“I want to make you feel good... I don’t want you forcing yourself because you some how think I want it”

“It’s not that... I think I want to try that again with you”

Lance didn’t seem convinced. Running his hands down Keith’s thighs, the movement nearly pushed him to coming

“Not tonight. Tonight is about you”

“I think...”

“No more thinking. Let me make you come”

“But...”

“I know what you like, babe. Let me make you come in my mouth”

Shifting back, Lance lifted his legs again, sinking down around Keith’s erection with his eyes closed. He only got as far as drawing back before Keith was coming. Orgasm smashing through him as his toes curled as he grunted in pleasure.

Sucking him dry, Lance used his tongue to make sure he was completely clean before lowering his shaking legs. Climbing up to slump beside him, Keith’s chest heaved as he caught his breath, totally ready for a nap now. Staring at the ceiling, his left hand came up rest on his chest, heart racing like he’d run a marathon

“Shit... that... mouth of yours...”

Lance snorted at him, his baby bump pressing against the hunter’s arm. His bump... he loved that bump

“Feel good?”

“Criminally”

Lance sighed lightly as he kissed Keith’s shoulder

“I love you. You’re the most beautiful man I’ve ever met”

Moving his arm, Keith wasn’t sure what he was trying to do with it seeing it was trapped against him. His hand brushed over Lance’s tenting sweats, but his boyfriend didn’t react

“Lay back...”

“‘Nah, I’m okay like this”

Lance was turning down a blow job? Not to brag but his boyfriend loved his blow jobs

“Babe...?”

“Not tonight. Tonight I wanted to touch you”

“Maybe I want to touch you?”

“It’s fine. I want to snuggle with you”

Okay. He could snuggle... he could also down a litre of water right about now. He was thirsty as heck

“I’m thirsty... I don’t know if my legs are going to hold me up”

“I can get you some water... I don’t mind. Actually, hold on and I’ll be right back”

Walking around with an erection didn’t feel great. Keith had plenty of experience with that... as Lance moved away from him, Keith propped himself up. He didn’t want to force Lance into anything, but he didn’t know why he didn’t want him to touch him too. His lover hadn’t even taken his pants off. Even when Keith’s lavished attention on Lance’s body, his boyfriend then insisted on lavishing him as much in return... unless he’d fallen asleep right after coming. Now he had a conundrum and no dust bunnies to run the wheel until a logical thought was churned out.

Coming back to bed, Lance smiled at him as he passed him the glass of water. Keith had heard the toilet flush, his boyfriend never got a break from having to pee

“Thanks, babe”

“You’re welcome”

Leaning over, Lance kissed his forehead. Keith very much naked on display, yet Lance wasn’t looking. Getting up from the side of the bed, his boyfriend walked around, rather than simply climbing over him to get to his side. Pulling the covers up, he left Keith to cool. Still heated and sweaty from being blown into the next dimension. Wriggling himself into place, Lance wrapped his arm around him.

Placing the glass on the bedside table, Keith slid down into his spot, kissing the top of Lance’s head

“You good, babe?”

“Mhmm... brushed my teeth”

Lance tilted his head up, blowing across Keith’s face, before nuzzling into his chest

“See, minty fresh”

“I can tell... you sure you’re okay?”

“Mhmm...”

Keith tried to let it slide, but he couldn’t

“Babe... why didn’t you want to do me?”

Lance sighed at him, fingers sliding up to sit lightly curled on Keith’s stomach

“I wanted to make you feel good. You don’t like bottoming and that’s okay”

“But I wanted to try it”

“And I wanted to focus on making you feel good... did I not make you feel good?”

Shit. Abort. Things were going sideways

“No. No, babe. It felt very very good. It felt so good that I thought maybe I wouldn’t mind something bigger”

“Mmm, I know one finger is your limit... I don’t mind”

“But you didn’t want me to...”

“Keith, I love you. I love you and I’m sleepy. I wanted to touch you. I wanted to make you feel every bit as loved as you are”

“But I love sucking your dick”

[thefivecalls]

Things I associate with each of the sides for no reason

Logan:

I understand he's supposed to be dark blue or indigo. Regardless, he will always be teal. This teal:

For some reason when I got detention that one time I got a Logan vibe so yeah theres that

"Space... The final frontier..." But uhhh just the opening has his vibes

Why is he always whereing a neck tie and not a bow tie? If anyone has necktie vibes its Janus not Logan

Logan also has chaos incarnate vibes that are only in check because of his last shreds of humanity one of these days he'll break and when he does thomas can and will set something on fire using bill nye the science guy tactics

He is waking up early and going to bed late

He is framing posters

He is dancing in your bedroom to awesome music that has never been such a vibe before that moment and will never be again.

Broken clocks

Beaker from the muppets? I don't quite get it but yeah

Rock of ages

Getting a pitcher of soda or tea or whatever and setting it on his desk, then getting 23 straws and taping them together so he can lay in bed on his phone and safely drink it without spilling

Grilled cheese

Kahoot music

Remus:

Death waltz. Not the synthesia no the one that takes 14 people to play.

Canoeing

Obviously he has close combat weapons but have you thought about giving him a bow and arrow? I have and yes thats a vibe because he is one of three people I've ever met with those vibes ok

Portable speakers

He is bonfires and fireworks.

He is hyperfixating on something and writing a story until 4 in the morning.

Potions!

The fact that witches ingredients are actually just named strange things but are edible somethings? Like mustard seeds being newts eyes and the like

Acid

In my human anatomy class we dissected deer hearts and when we found the blood clots we called them the Forbidden Jellies.

The county fair

The circus that comes around at fall festival time

Homecoming game in football/rugby

I feel like if he played an instrument he'd be a baritone

The lime green smoke Disney villians have

Roman:

Zootopia the movie

Hopping. Or bouncing in place.

My family's crest?? I think its because of his crest but he had those vibes before the outift upgrade???? Idk

The ponytail thing that give you a unicorn horn when you've got short hair but bangs that are beginning to grow out

He is picnics at the park

He is also going shopping

He is also dancing in the rain at four in the morning with the outside lights on and the music blaring but its ok the neigbors are four acres away and they sleep like the dead.

When I went to my first metal concert and I saw the mosh pit? The exhilaration that comes with wanting to join but not wanting to get crushed is a Roman thing.

Pancakes

Cold pizza at midnight

Succulents!

Fire and cane whiskey

The warm smiles that the bearer never gets to see because they don't get the chance to see it in a reflection

Butterscotch

Janus:

Springtime showers that makes snowmelt rivers

Prom. Dont ask this is just a him vibe ok

He seems like the guy that would make a blanket cacoon/nest when his bedsheets are in the wash and can I say mood

Sunlight

Looking off my back porch and seeing the feilds of corn beginning to dry out in late fall every three years.

Pumpkin soup

Apple cider

Lemonade

Not only is he snowmelt rivers he is also the first thunderstorm of summertime

Sun tea. Not the brand the stuff that you make via harnessing the suns power

Cucumber facemasks

Wildflower honey

The person who youd never guess goes to comic con but is actually the one who wins first place in the costume contest every year

Oversized sweaters

German Sheppards and yellow labs sunbathing after playing for hours

Antique mirrors

Burlap canvas bags

Oil paint

Espressos at ten at night

Late night chinese food runs

Dragons

Spice. Not the average spice either I'm talking could eat a carolina reaper and yes he'll be more red but he could still talk and thats more than I can say for myself

Virgil:

The red rubber balls from kick ball in elementary. By god I can smell the plastic just thinking about it

Flappy stims! Almost every time I flap he comes to mind I never really questioned it

The weighted blanket my dad got that I steal from him all the time

'He's a Mary poppins in a world of hasselhoffs" my friend once said that not even talking about Virgil but like. Come on.

Basically all of Star Lord's vibes are Virgils

Deadpool

Jack Skellington (kinda obvs)

Sample perfumes that are like the size of a pinky

Telescopes

Not writing an essay but instead learning all about world history or astronomy or psychology

Earings. Specifically hoops

Black pearls

Boardwalks that have tiny shops along them with a bunch of food.

Going to a club or a party with flashing lights and even though you're kinda nervous you have fun and live like tomorrow is still a dream away.

Ripped movie posters that the theater is selling

Tying ropes together to make nets.

Fairy lights

Taping movie theater tickets to your wall after you've gone and seen it

Scarecrows sitting on bales of hay at sunset next to my willow tree and the cicadas are on their 13th year so they're the loudest they'll ve until another 13 years have passed

The glint in someone's eye when they think of something mischievous

Bang by AJR

The corpse bride's tale/song

Patton:

The lazer eye meme. This one

Graham Crackers. Not smores, not candy crack-just the cracker ok

Pep rallies

The pet store??

Sugar sculptures

Corn pits (strictly midwestern thing)

Driving for hours upon hours and seeing the strange statues some towns have as you pass them by

Silver sparkles

Art herpes glitter

Photo booths

Riding in the back of a pickup truck on the county's main road

Wedding crystals cabinet where you put the fancy china you're going to give to your children that never gets used once but is probably worth half your house

The chubby bunny challenge

The moment when you tip your chair back too far and you know it but you can't do anything because you'll be on the floor in a second anyway

The thing maya did from Girl Meets World when she slammed lockers closed and caused the chalkboard to let its dust fly

Dusk.

That moment when everything is going by so quickly so you step back and watch the world go by for only a few seconds but then you're back in the present laughing with your friends

Snow cones melting and getting the syrup all over your hands

Orange Side:

All things citrus but especially lemons no not oranges lemons

Sunglasses

Men in black 1 not the rest just the first

Pineapple too hes got a lot of pineapple vibes

Combat boots but with spikes

Also lace?

And tea. Like, all kinds of tea but especially the really expensive stuff that I've only tasted like twice thats imported from Ireland

Himalayan salt lamps.

Sensies. the wax melting things

Candles too

Once we meet him I'll have more but this is it for him for now

Thats it! If this gets notes I might do emile remy and thomas but I think I'll leave this be for the moment. Have a great day y'all!

[kellyntime]

a pair of friends made a sort of bet one year. if she could guess their age on their birthday, they’d confirm it. but she only got one guess each year.

there wasn’t anything to win except simple fun, but that was why it was special to them.

the first decade or so was, in their opinion, both the funniest and most mundane. at first she’d guess ages that matched their appearance and they’d jovially say “nope!”, to her playful frustraition, while also tucking away her comically butchered birthday cards with the ages edited in black sharpie.

one year, a couple decades in, while they were visiting for tea, she asked if she’d ever been close. they stopped and thought for a moment. answering this would change everything. a former gag gift would lose its laughter, they feared. but, they were not in the business of lying, and if she hasn’t been spooked off yet by their appearance, then... well, let’s see what happens.

they told her that no, she was never close. but, that at one point in time any of her guesses been right.

she was silent for a moment, the meaning dawning on her, and then she went and turned on the kettle. she leaned against the counter and just stared. they, despite the fear curdling in their gut, met her eyes. the kettle shut itself off and she broke eye contact to make a cup for herself and them.

she said that asked if she was ever close, not if she was ever right.

they both took a sip of their drinks. she chuckled and said that this made things so much harder for all the variables she has so account for now.

relief flooded their body. she wasn’t spooked off, merely miffed that the bet was so unfair. they decided to add a little stipulation to help her out: they’d give a thumbs up or down depending on the relation of the guessed age.

years and years passed, and she never looked at them in fear. she liked them, for their company and the side puzzle they offered.

she also started getting creative. they didnt pick it up at first but she’d hint towards past events and watched for their reaction. once they realized what was happening, they laughed and she gave a “looks like i was caught” hands in the air. they would still answer her questions about past events, and she never wavered at some of the first hand experiences of dark memories.

once, she decided another gag card was in order, after so many years of serious guesses. she spent the next ten minutes laughing after they’d given her a thumbs up.

she was getting up there in years. still spry and sharp of wit, their game continued on. when she hit one hundred, they gifted her the first gag card she’d given them all those years ago. inside was a hint: a watch.

of course, she looked at it and instantly saw through the puzzle of the gift. this year was this first year she guessed a number they gave a thumbs down to, along with a huff, offended she went for the highest value. they weren’t quite /that/ old.

now with a definite time frame, she got scarily close some years with her wild guesses, and once, she would’ve been right if it were last year’s guess.

she was becoming quite frail, her old body not supporting her the way it used to. they moved in with her, to help take care. she was grateful and said now she had more time to pick their brain. they asked once if she’d just like the answer, and to that she spiked their tea with salt instead of sugar.

it was a quiet, snowy night. she lay in bed bundled under heaps of blankets, watching the fluffly flakes float past the street lights. they knocked before entering, bumping the door the rest of the way open with their hip while manuvering the tray of food to her side table. there was a delay before she noticed them and gave a gummy smile, patting their hand in thanks.

more years past and she got an award for oldest person alive, to which she gave a silent laugh and pointed at them. the news people wrote if off as her saying thanks to her friend for looking after her in her old age. which wasn’t wrong, but also not her intention. they both chuckled at the evening news later that day.

she got very sick early one morning. they called an ambulance and the rest of the day was spent in a blur.

they were seated in a chair pulled up to the side of a hospital bed. the soft rythym of them breathing and the occasional voice from down the hall were the only sounds. they were both watching the sun slowly set, turning the sky from a blazing orange to a ripe magenta. the sun set early this time of the year, and even more so because of their location. soon it would be pitch black before dinner time.

they held hands in silent solidarity, knowing time was short. she turned to them and patted their hand to get their attention. they turned and she yawned, indicating she was going to sleep soon.

a nurse walked in with more warm blankets for the ancient lady. this hospital is so drafty he said, they probably spend more energy on warming blankets than it would be to update the central heating. arranging the blankets over her, they settled in, leaning over the side of the bed to rest their head on her lap.

what they didnt expect was her hands to gentley whap them on the head. sitting up, they looked at her questioningly. she seemed to have gotten a last burst of energy and was silently chuckling while pointing at the clock on the wall. the nurse looked befuddled, but then he let out a chuckle at the time. she’s probably laughing at an old joke time that was popular in her youth, if i remember correctly. my grandmas used to do the same thing around this time.

he left the room after that. they continued to look at the clock and back to her. they clued into the second meaning of the time before laughing. eyes filled with mirth, they grabbed her hands. there was no thumbs up or down this time, and she smiled back at them so fully that her eyes closed.

settling down, they returned their head to her lap and the warm blankets. she rested one of her hands on their head and held the other. they stared at her, half asleep themself, while she drifted off.