#he really said 'i'm getting out of here [my twenties] with a bang'

[katierosefun]

Do you ever think how incredibly Young Juwon is when the series starts? He was 27?? I just turned 26 and I do Not think I'm capable of handling whatever mess he was in by the time I'm 27 like, he's just a big stupid teenager

happy belated birthday, mineh!! i hope your 26th year is a good one!

but also, yes, to address the rest of your ask . . . maybe since i'm only 23, 27 years old still feels so distant to me/feels a little more grown up to me, but at the same time. i do think that 27 is still a remarkably young age to have the kind of career that joo won has had at that point. like, working in foreign affairs + already an inspector at 27, whereas when you look at the manyang substation, hwang gwang young is the only inspector . . . and i would guess that he's anywhere between his late thirties to early forties, but he's also rather ambitious in his own right. and then you look at cho gil gu, who's def. older than hwang gwang young (or at least, he seems at least a few years older) but isn't at inspector status yet. ji hoon is the youngest in the group, although i think according to the script book, he's only a year younger than joo won . . . and he's only a patrol officer. (then again, ji hoon also started his police career later, i think.)

and then if you look at all the people working in the violent crimes unit, too, i think that puts everything else in perspective. like, ji hwa had been working in violent crimes for eleven years, i think, and she's probably forty years old. that means she would have started violent crimes when she was twenty nine, which is still rather young, but she at least had a few years on joo won before she started to get into the really nitty gritty parts of work. kang do su is relatively young too (i would say that he's probably in his early or mid thirties??), but still: older than joo won.

so that said: yeah. han joo won is def . . . i think incredibly young given the work that he has to handle. that said, i feel like that just. speaks so much to who he is as a character, because i don't think he ever really had a chance at being young? like, an actual child? (which is probably why he simultaneously seems grown up and. like. childish. something something people who grow up way too fast are constantly swinging between "eerily familiar with disturbing concepts that most people only have to reckon with when they're fully grown" and "astoundingly immature").

[2tcs]

DCxDP Prompt

Ah. It's good to hear the voice of god above me instead of below. Dick thinks as he begins to wake up more and realizes that it's Jason’s voice yelling above him. 

Wait. Why is his voice above me? Where am I? Suddenly Dick shoots up from where he is lying, only for pain to flare in his hip and up his side.

“Hay Mr. Nightwing? Are you awake?” A little boy asks as two kids open the door to the room he was in.

How did I get here?

“See Dan? I told you I heard him moving around.” The little girl said as she stuck her tongue out at her brother.

“Mama said that you should never ashoom anything and should always verify.” The little boy, Dan said with an adorable glare.

“Your Mama is right. It's not good to make assumptions. By the way, where is your Mama?” Dick asked trying to derail the argument he could see coming and hoping to get some answers.

“Mama is in the kitchen making supper. You slept the whooole day. But Mama wouldn't let us wake you up. She said that you needed your sleep because you were hurt. Are you still hurt Mr. Nightwing?” The little girl said while bouncing on her toes.

“Mama will want to know you're awake.” Dan said before grabbing his sister's hand and dragging her out of the room.

Watching them go Dick decided to take another look around the room. Other than the bed and a dresser the room was pretty barren of personality. Not even a window to break up the monotony of the room's walls. Must be a guest bed then. Dick thought as he managed to get up and hobbled his way to the main area of the apartment.

“Good morning Mr. Nightwing. Or good evening? Never mind. If you want you can go sit down while I finish making supper.” A man who looks around his mid-twenties said from the kitchen. “How are you feeling? You were pretty banged up when you came in last night but I managed to pop your hip back in place and stitched up your side. You really should sit down so you don't aggravate your hip. I am sorry if the kids woke you up.” He said, only for the sound of something hitting a wall and more yelling before what sounded like a door slamming and everything going quiet filtered down to them from the upstairs apartment. “Or my neighbor. He's normally really quiet.”

“It's okay. And thanks for patching me up Mr…?”

“Oh. Sorry. I'm Danny. My daughter over there is Ellie and my son is Dan.”

“Well thank you Danny. But can I ask how I got here?” Dick asked as he sat down.

“You climbed in through the window!” Ellie said excitedly.

“I think you thought it was an old safe house because you unlocked the window and came in before passing out. Ellie…” Danny said with a stern look at his daughter “had apparently decided she needed a midnight snack saw you come in.”

“Ya, probably. I don't remember much of what happened last night.” Dick admitted as he watched Danny plate up food and started handing it out to Dick and the kids before sitting on the couch with his own plate as his kids ate next to him.

“Hmm. You might have a bit of a concussion. You should probably call someone to pick you up if you can’t remember anything.”

After eating Dick opened his com and notified everyone where he was and that he needed help getting home. He'll have to figure out a way to thank Danny for his help. After dealing with the batlecture and his sibling's teasing.

[casino-lights]

so illario was in the final battle

and this was supposed to be a drabble, but I cannot be trusted to write Illario and Lidia succinctly. TW for a semi graphic description of wounds - I can't tell if it's not really that bad or if I just think the human body is neat so I'm marking that down anyway. no death or descriptions of the wounds being inflicted, though; this is fully set post-battle. the endgame spoilers are fairly mild though - just the location of the final fight.

if you saw my WIP Wednesday, this is what that snippet was from! I hope you enjoy it as much as these two enjoy arguing with each other. thank you for reading!

The dried blood matting half of Lidia’s bangs down against her split scalp didn’t bother her nearly as much as it bothered Teia. She fussed over her gently, blotting a damp rag against Lidia’s head and tutting like a disappointed mother.

“This is what happens,” she scolded between soft pats. “You always run ahead, and you always draw attention, and you always get yourself hurt.”

Absentmindedly, Lidia replied, “I usually work alone.”

“Yes, and this is why.”

“Mm.” The only sign she felt pain was a series of rapid blinks when Teia pressed against a particularly painful cut.

“If you would stop looking around, I’d be done faster.”

Lidia turned her head back toward Teia. “Is it still bleeding?”

“Not that I can see.”

She rose to her feet and brushed the dust of fallen Minrathous buildings off her thighs. “Then I’ll live.”

Teia gave up quickly. She was no one’s parent, no matter how much she cared. “Suit yourself. But Lidia?”

“Hm?”

“You’ve done immensely well. Not just here - since Lucanis’ return as well. House Dellamorte is lucky to have you.”

She smiled thinly. “We’re all just Crows today, Teia.”

“Yes, we are.”

“Speaking of Lucanis…”

Teia nodded her head in the direction of the raucous cheering and the gathered crowd surrounding a few figures climbing down from the rooftop where the final confrontation had taken place. They both saw the flash of a purple jacket at the same time, and a wave of relief washed over them as they shared a look.

“Vi is back a ways, checking the fallen for ours so we can arrange the funerals,” Teia continued softly. “Since you’re upright, could you see to them as well?”

“Of course. Tell Lucanis not to worry about us and just take care of himself if you get a chance to talk to him.”

Teia nodded, and Lidia turned away. She hugged her cape around herself like a blanket as she snaked her way through what was left of the Minrathous streets, hopping over and ducking under various bits of debris that cluttered the city. She caught a few of her fellow Crows out of the corners of her eyes as she passed - most bloodied, bruised, and limping, but alive - and they all shared reassuring smiles with her once they noticed her. We lived, said their grins. We won, and we lived.

She saw Viago leaning against a mostly-intact building, heaving a deep sigh, and she called out to him. He lifted his eyes to her as she approached, but his lips were pulled down into a scowl.

Quietly, Lidia asked, “Is it that bad?”

“We lost just over twenty,” he answered, voice low and solemn. “Not as many as I expected, but… less than ideal. Most were fledgelings, but there’s a small handful of master assassins.”

She felt a selfish desire to ask anyone I know? but stifled it. “Do you need anything? A hand with the bodies? A cart?”

“A cart,” he agreed with a nod. “Though I don’t know if we could get one to the eluvian with the state of Minrathous. We might have to carry them through on stretchers.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed again. “Which means we’d need able-bodied volunteers, a relatively clear path back to the mirror, enough stretchers to make for less back-and-forth, a cart waiting in the Crossroads…”

“Maybe we can ask Lucanis if he knows a clearer route?” Lidia suggested softly.

He blinked, then sighed with relief. “You saw him?”

“Teia and I. He looks alright. Reasonably unharmed.”

He nodded again, more slowly this time. “It's nice to have some good news, at least.”

Lidia looked past Viago, into the building, and saw rows and rows of white linens draped over bodies. A cold, sick feeling gawed at her stomach as she counted them, and she wondered how many more would succumb to their injuries or simply hadn’t yet been found.

Another fear gripped her, too. She scanned the bodies again, making note of the taller ones. From the shoes she could see, none looked more distinctive than the regular steel-tipped Crow boots. Though some were burned beyond recognition. She felt guilty, searching for just one body among the two dozen lying before her, and guiltier still that she was looking for him at all. 

But she hadn’t seen him with the other Crows. He should have been with Teia, or Lucanis, or even here pestering Viago endlessly. She shouldn’t care. He didn’t deserve it. But she asked anyway.

“Viago–”

“I don’t know.”

“I didn’t even ask yet.”

“No, but you have that look on your face.” Viago sighed and shook his head. “I don’t know where Illario is. Teia saw him last.”

Lidia frowned. “She didn’t mention anything to me, and I was just with her.”

He pulled a hand down his face before pausing to smooth down his beard. “I did not see him among the dead, if that’s what you’re asking, but I have no idea where else he would be right now.”

“Well, he isn’t with Teia, and he isn’t with Lucanis, where he was supposed to be.” 

She glanced over her shoulder just in time to see a pair of Crows carrying the mangled corpse of one of their fellows into the building. Viago sighed again and raked his fingers back through his hair. 

“Dammit. One of Teia’s fledgelings.”

Lidia looked back at him, horrified. “I thought you told them not to come!”

“We did,” he answered, voice pained and eyes closed. “But you of all people should know that doesn’t stop them from wanting to prove themselves.”

He closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath, steeling himself to write another name on his list. After a moment of silence and a nod at the two Crows as they left the building, he sighed again and said, “Go home, Lidia. We’ve been sending the ones who can walk back to the Diamond for now to care for the ones who can’t.”

“Teia told me to help you.”

“And you can help me by going home,” Viago snapped. “And tell them to put a cart in the Crossroads. And station some people with it in case we need them to carry stretchers through the streets.”

She frowned, but gave a single nod of understanding before turning away. They were all Crows today. And she knew better than to question an order from a Talon.

She was welcomed by the warmth of Trevisan air once the cool, watery feeling of the eluvian faded. For just a moment, she closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, drinking in the flurry of scents that always filled the Cantori Diamond. The smells of spices, wine, and smoke wafted up from the casino floor, but the familiar chatter and laughter was replaced by eerie quiet, broken up only by the occasional groan or cry of pain.

Lidia’s eyes darted toward a flash of purple and she called out, stopping Chance in his tracks. He leaned back, peering at her curiously from around the corner, but smiled warmly as she approached. 

“Lidia! You made it back.” He touched her shoulder gently before bowing with a flourish. “Welcome home, my lady.”

She returned the expression as best she could despite her headache and festering worry. “Thank you. The Fifth Talon would like a cart prepared in the Crossroads outside the Minrathous eluvian along with some strong, uninjured Crows who can carry bodies back on stretchers if need be.” 

“It will be done. Any other requests?”

She glanced around, but saw no one else nearby. “I heard some of our wounded came through. Where are they now?”

“Using the card tables as extra beds,” he answered before frowning as he smoothed his moustache. “We’ve already lost three, and one more seems to be on his way out. The healers who stayed are all busy, and everyone else went to Minrathous. It’s… going to get better soon. I’m certain. Your arrival can only herald better tidings.”

Again, Lidia bit her tongue to keep herself from asking if the dead were known to her. Instead, she simply nodded to signal her understanding and left. 

As she descended the many flights of stairs separating the rafters from the casino floor, her brow furrowed as her concern compounded on itself. Every step felt heavier as she ran over the names and faces of her favorite Crows in her mind. Lucanis, Teia, Viago, and Chance were safe. Jacobus stayed behind in Treviso after Lidia begged him to - their argument consisted of shouting and frustrated tears, but ended with several forehead kisses and a warm, loving hug once he finally agreed to stay. But the others? Heir, Dolores, Cazi, Valerian? 

Illario?

She hated herself for worrying about him the most. He had not earned back that space in her head, and yet he’d stolen it again. He occupied her thoughts in various stages of injury, and images of him maimed or charred or exsanguinated flashed through her mind. With everything he put her through, everything he lied about, she knew she should be savoring the idea of him dead somewhere in Minrathous. But it haunted her, the thought of never seeing him again. It ached like a stone with sharp edges lodged in her chest.

I should’ve left Treviso entirely, she thought bitterly as she rounded the corner of the final stairwell.

The floor of the Diamond opened up before her, and she sighed at the state of it. About half of the card tables had wounded Crows perched on them - several with especially nasty-looking injuries - and a corner of the room was sectioned off with makeshift dividers. A few trails of blood - droplets, drag marks, or both - meandered off toward different tables. It would take days to get this place functional again. 

Overlapping voices from various healers and patients filled the room. Most were voices she recognized, and she felt a wave of relief as they registered one by one. And as one of them filtered in, her head turned immediately toward the sound.

“I know, quite heroic,” said Illario with a soft groan. “Maybe someday the heroism will outweigh the stupidity.”

Lidia spotted him on a table, shirtless and wrapped in bandages, with his hair swept over one shoulder and a healer tending to his right side. He moved sluggishly and only when told, but his posture was still straight and his voice was still clear. He looked… decent.

She chided herself again for being so worried. Of course Illario was fine. Of course he made it with only minor injuries. Why wouldn’t he? He always had demonic luck. Why worry about him, Illario the traitor, Illario the liar, Illario the cheater, heartbreaker, manipulator–

“Lidia?”

She looked back at him at the sound of his voice, realizing her fingernails were starting to dig into her palms. She grabbed a stray coin off an empty card table and turned it over a few times in her hand as she made her way toward Illario.

He smiled at her approach, winced as he turned too far, and gave a slightly smaller and surprisingly sheepish grin when she reached his side. “Stay right there,” he said, holding out his unbandaged arm. “That’s always been my good side.”

Lidia rolled her eyes. “You couldn’t possibly say hello, or ask me how I am, or ask after Lucanis, could you? Do you even care?”

“I–” He hissed sharply and cursed as the healer pried something off his skin with a sticky sound. He leaned forward at the same time Lidia did, blocking her view of whatever was removed from him, and flashed another forced half-smile. “Of course I care, but I trust your delightful bluntness. I’m certain you would have told me the second you saw me if he was dead. I’m also certain you would look like you’ve been crying.”

She scowled and crossed her arms, angrily spinning the coin between her thumb and forefinger. “You’re a bastard.”

“I’m not, strictly speaking, but I never did get to know my father as well as I would have liked, so I’ll give you–” He cut himself off with another wince as the healer removed another piece from him. Once more, Lidia leaned forward to look, and once more, Illario intercepted her, this time by reaching for her arm.

“Don’t touch me,” she snapped, pulling away from him.

He let his hand fall back to the table. “If there’s one thing I can say about you, it’s that you never gave me mixed signals. I always know exactly where I stand. I love this about you - have I mentioned that?”

“You have. A pity I can’t say the same about you.”

Before he could respond, his head surged backwards and he let out a pained cry as the healer unwound one of the bandages on his arm.

“Apologies,” the healer muttered, “but now that the debriding is done, I need to replace these compresses and apply the rest.”

“Sure,” Illario groaned through his teeth. “You’re the expert.”

Lidia took her opportunity and shifted her stance to see the extent of his injuries. She couldn’t stifle a small gasp, which seemed to hurt him more than anything else.

A splotchy pink burn blossomed across most of his right forearm and about half his bicep, and it continued across the corresponding side of his torso. For the briefest of seconds, he turned his head to look at her fully, eyes wide and pleading, as he inadvertently revealed the connecting burn across the right side of his jawline and down his neck. The moment passed, and he lowered his face and sighed quietly.

Raw, red, sticky-looking flesh was visible in a few places, and as the healer set a small bowl on the table to free his hands, Lidia finally saw its contents: a small pile of dead, mottled tissue. How long had Illario been here, having his skin peeled off piece by blistered piece? Most of the burns looked deep enough to go past the pain, but in some places they were angry and crimson, shining as if wet. 

The healer covered them one by one with bandages soaked in a healing solution as Illario tried to be still. “I told you that was my good side,” he muttered, his lips pressed into a thin line.

Lidia tucked the coin into her pocket and hoisted herself up onto the table beside him, legs kicking off the edge. “So… what happened?”

His eyes fell to the uninjured hand he had resting in his lap. “Magefire.” His voice sounded low, unenthusiastic - a far cry from the initial charm he laid on so thickly. “But this lovely gentleman here–” he motioned lightly toward the healer– “has assured me the wounds are not fatal. Just scarring. You’re crushed, I’m sure.”

Her headache throbbed dully, reminding her not to take his bait tonight. Instead, she said, “I’m just surprised you got hit at all. You’ve always been the luckiest bastard in Antiva.”

“Well, this time, I left Antiva.”

“Which you have done before, and you know what I meant anyway, idiot.”

He shrugged with his good arm, still refusing to meet her eyes. “Lucanis and I were cornered, and I stood in front of him. Foolish thing to do, I know. But I suppose I was trying to make up for something he would probably tell me not to worry about anyway. He was fine last time I saw him, if you’re concerned.”

“I’m not. Unless he tripped over something during his victory march, he’s alive and well…” She trailed off as she looked him over again. His right arm injured, mostly on the outside; his right side burnt while the left half of his body remained untouched; only the lower right corner of his jaw and cheek scorched… he shoved Lucanis behind him with his left arm and shielded his eyes with his right.

“Then I’m sure he’ll give me a stern talking-to for trying to protect him in the first place,” Illario said wearily, finally glancing up to her. “Who knows, maybe all I really achieved was making the First Talon look weak in front of the others.”

“Or making yourself look even more pathetic.”

“Which would just be impressive at this rate, no?” He breathed a soft, humorless laugh. “Illario Dellamorte, the Crow who lost all his dignity in record time. They’ll sing about my failures someday.”

As the healer left to attend to another patient, Lidia touched Illario’s leg, the weight of her hand pleasant and warm on his shin. “If nothing else, it was brave.”

He gave an indecisive tilt of his head. “It was also stupid.”

“More than one thing can be true.”

He gave a wan smile. “Lucanis probably would have been fine if he hadn’t been babysitting me in the first place.”

“Knowing him, he fought harder with you next to him.”

He studied her face, his eyes searching hers for a moment. “You’ve blood on you,” he said, nodding toward her hairline. “Your own?”

“I’m alright.”

“That’s not the answer to my question.”

She rolled her eyes. “It is mine, but I’m still alright.”

“Are you going to tell me what happened?”

“Venatori.”

When she did not continue, he deadpanned, “The picture you’ve painted so far is vivid.”

“Don’t vex me, Illario.”

“Am I not allowed to ask for details? To be concerned for you?”

She glared at him. “Now you’re concerned about me?”

“One concussion makes another more likely,” he reminded her in that insufferably knowing tone of his. “And I would hate for my hard work in facilitating your recovery from that first one to go to waste.”

“Yes, but whose fault was my first concussion?”

Indignantly, he flattened his hand against his chest. “I accept no responsibility for the actions of previous targets.”

“But said previous target would have been asleep if it wasn’t for you playing hero.”

“Must we always revisit that night?”

“You brought it up!” Her head ached as she raised her voice, and she massaged her tender scalp gently as she closed her eyes.

His teasing smirk faded to a soft frown, but he replaced it with a subtle smile before joking, “And here I had hoped you would be kinder to me now that you’ve seen the extent of my injuries.”

“Not a chance. My skin is still crawling from being this close to you,” she answered while making no attempt to move farther away.

He arched a brow smugly. “Well, I suppose, as you said, more than one thing can be true.”

“I am… glad… you made it,” she managed reluctantly. “I was looking for you among our dead.”

“Hoping to see me with my skull split, were you?”

Her hand slid up and his uninjured one met her halfway. They locked gently at his side. “You would deserve it, but… no. I was hoping I wouldn’t see your boots.”

“Oh? And I would have thought you’d only know me by my gloves.”

I would know any part of you, her mind brought forth. She blanketed the thought and tucked it away to be scolded later.

“I suppose I’ll be escorted back to the villa and left there to recover,” Illario mused aloud when she didn’t answer his quip. “I wonder if it’ll be too much to ask for Caterina to let me stay in my own room again. And I’m sure Viago will be just as thrilled as you are that I survived.”

“He’s busy. I’ll take you.”

He sighed fondly - if a touch sadly - and stroked her knuckles with the pad of his thumb. “Do you remember the last time you took my care upon yourself? I don’t suppose you’ll be making me pastina this time.”

Lucanis’ wake. She made a hot meal every day and shared it with Illario in silence as they sat in his bed and he stared into the fireplace. At the time, she had no way of knowing that his grief was doubled by guilt and only compounded by her kindness. She did not regret it, not even now, and that frustrated her more than anything else.

She hopped off the table and pulled lightly on his arm. “On your feet, Dellamorte. Come on.”

He swung his legs over the side of the table and winced. “Where are we going?”

“Home. I’m not letting you take up space in the Diamond when others may need it more.”

“I won’t argue with the promise of a more comfortable seat,” he responded with a grimace as he rose to his feet. Looking down at their hands, still entwined between them, he added, “Though we could stop for coffee on the way…”

“The owners of Café Pietra could be lying under rubble in Minrathous right now.”

“...So, no?”

“No.”

She pulled him out the Diamond’s front door and they started the long walk back to Villa Dellamorte. Out of habit, Illario walked at her side so she was safely between him and the buildings. She pretended not to notice, but heat rose in her cheeks all the same.

At a side street, she directed him to turn, and when he gave her that quizzical where are you taking me look, she explained, “We have to stop at the market.” 

“For what?”

“Pastina, idiot,” she said pointedly, as if it should have been obvious.

He smiled and leaned against her, further entangling their arms. “I don’t deserve you, cara mia.”

She glared at him sideways. “No, you don’t. And don’t call me that. Lucanis would be cross with me if I let his brother starve, that’s all this is.”

Neither of them knew if that really was the extent of it. But for once, he neither questioned nor corrected her. 

She held his hand the whole way home, and they sat in silence as they shared a bowl of pastina on his bed. For a night, that could be enough.

[thisapplepielife]

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles December challenge.

Crumb Together

Prompt Day 27: Coffee Shop AU | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: Language | Tags: Modern AU, Meet-Cute, Platonic Stobin, Coffee Shop/Bakery AU, Fluff, Steve POV

Steve is carefully filling the bakery case. He's been here since three a.m., and it's still a half-hour until opening, but at least he's on time and not behind schedule for once. 

"Hey dingus, do we need more muffins?" Robin hollers, banging through the double-doors from the back to the front. 

"No, I have enough, thanks so much," he snaps. He's snippy this morning, pretty mad she ever talked him into this whole coffee shop scheme. Sure, they're retail pros, but small business owners? He should have said no fucking way. But she was excited, and he wanted her to be happy. That’s always his downfall.

He's definitely re-thinking that now that they’ve completely lost their social lives by keeping these insane working and sleeping schedules. They only see each other, which isn't the worst thing in the world, other than the fact that he doesn't know the last time he's touched boobies. Or dick. He's not picky. 

He needs to get laid, and he can’t do that stuck inside this coffee shop slash bakery hell with his best friend.

He's about to turn and sass her, when someone taps on the front door and he jumps, throwing a chocolate muffin up into the air, fumbling it around, before finally regaining control. 

He didn't drop it, but it looks a little worse for wear. He can't sell it like this. 

Well, fuck.

If he was a hired hand, he'd ignore the annoying tapper until the official opening time. Which is twenty-nine minutes from now. But as the owner, he puts down his tray and walks towards the door. They could use the paying customer, even if they’ve shown up way too early, like a rude asshole.

He looks, but he can't see anyone out there in the dark. Maybe he should ignore it.

He doesn't, instead he unlocks the door, and there's a guy standing there. 

"Hey, nice catch," the guy says, smiling. 

Steve forces a smile in return, "How can I help you?" 

"I know you're not open yet, but I saw you in there juggling the muffins, and I'm on my way out of town and really need a cup of coffee. My coffee maker decided this was the morning to croak," he says, slashing his whole hand across his neck, making a throat-slitting motion. 

He's rambling, like Robin.

Steve finds it a little cuter on him, than he does when Robin does it at this ungodly hour. 

Steve sighs, and opens the door wider to let him inside, "You just want black coffee?" 

"Please," the guy says. 

"I'll have to brew it. It'll just take a minute." 

"Thank you, you're a lifesaver," he says, and Steve can see that he's looking at Steve's chest, looking for a name tag. But Steve's not wearing one. Because as the owner, he finally doesn't have to. 

Robin is booting up the point-of-sale system, "Black coffee?" she repeats. 

The guy nods. 

"For?" 

"Eddie," the guy answers. 

"Good thing you asked him, I'd never know who to hand it to," Steve snarks at Robin, starting the coffee machine.

Eddie laughs.

Robin doesn't.

When it's done, Steve places the cup on the counter, and Robin immediately picks it up and writes Eddie's name on it. 

Which, that's stupid. They all know it's Eddie's coffee. Then, Robin sacks up the slightly banged up muffin and hands it to Eddie.

"You scared him and caused him to squish it. So, it's yours. On the house!" she says, far too chipper for this time of morning. 

"Thanks, I'll try to drop by and scare him more often," Eddie says, reading his name on his cup, grinning. Then Eddie slides a ten dollar bill across the counter, waving off his change. 

As soon as the bell on the door jangles, signaling Eddie's departure, Robin turns and slaps Steve on the arm. 

"What the hell? That cute boy wanted to flirt, and you totally dropped the ball, dingus!" 

Steve scrunches up his forehead, "Huh?"

Robin just shakes her head, annoyed, and heads back towards the kitchen.

Is Steve so rusty that he missed flirting? Goddamnit. 

Steve has just turned the front door lock, and flipped the sign to closed, when he hears his cell phone ringing somewhere in the distance. He follows the sound, and when he picks it up, it's a number he doesn't recognize. Great. More telemarketer bullshit. 

He goes to swipe the decline button, when Robin shouts, "You better get that!"

He looks back at his phone and cautiously accepts the call, not knowing what the hell she's done now.

"Hello?"

"Is this Steve? From the coffee shop?"

"Yeah, this is Steve," Steve says, suspicious. He has no idea who he's talking to.

"Good, good. This is Eddie. From this morning. The coffee jerk that made you open early."

"Oh, uh, okay. Um…"

"How did I get this number?" Eddie asks, laughing.

"Yeah, that was what I was thinking," Steve admits.

"Well, somehow it ended up written on my coffee cup this morning, with your name and a time to call."

Steve shakes his head, Robin is such an asshole, but Steve smiles.

"Well, I'm not sure how that happened," Steve says, teasing back. Flirting. 

"Big mystery," Eddie teases, "but since I've got you on the phone, would you like to grab dinner or drinks. Coffee?"

"No coffee," Steve laughs, "but yes. To the other two, for sure. But be forewarned, I eat really early. Like an old person. Early bird specials are my jam. And I go to bed by nine. Eight-thirty if I can get away with it. I gotta be here by three to get ready to open this place."

He's learned to get that info out of the way, early. 

"Well, that sounds perfect. I get up at four to get to my jobsite. I'm in construction," Eddie says.

Steve smiles, it's been a while since anyone has understood his schedule.

"So, dinner? Four-thirty or five?" Eddie asks, and Steve laughs.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddieholidaydrabbles and follow along with the fun! ☕

If you want to see more of my entries into this month-long challenge, you can check them out in my Steddie Holiday Drabbles tag, right here!

[tracingpatternswrites]

Leather and Cinnamon | Wolfstar Bingo

It's that time of the year again! The @wolfstarbingo2024 is here.

I'm supposed to be working hard on my Big Bang fic so naturally I instead spent the whole day writing 13k words of... well, this.

I've had this idea for a long time and I think I started it over a year ago, but now I finally found the inspiration to finish it (while also crossing off one of my prompts). So here it is.

Title: Leather and Cinnamon Pairing: Wolfstar Rating: E WC: 13.2k Prompt: One night stand Summary: Remus hasn't got laid in a while, but that's okay. That's fine. He's been busy raising a son, thank you very much.

Now, however, Teddy is off to university and when Remus goes to Brighton to drop him off, they stumble over a coffee shop in the south lanes. It's a cosy little place with a barista who has silver eyes and pale skin and an arse to die for.

Remus hasn't got laid in a while, but that's okay. That's fine.

Read on AO3.

Snippet below the cut:

“I’ll order,” Teddy said as they entered the coffee shop, nodding towards a table by the window. “You can take a seat.”

“Oh really?” Remus asked, a little amused. “You’re paying too, then?”

“Obviously not,” Teddy remarked casually. “I’m a poor student, remember?”

“Sometimes I think you just spend time with me for my wallet.” Remus sighed wistfully but Teddy merely grinned at him, snapping his fingers.

“Money, please.”

“Maybe I want to order,” Remus said, but Teddy was already snatching the note from his fingers.

“Please,” Teddy scoffed. “Like I’d trust you with my order.”

Remus looked fondly as his son sauntered off towards the bar, unable not to smile to himself. He honestly couldn’t get his head around the fact that he had an 18-year-old son who was now heading off to university all on his own.

It had felt bittersweet, packing up Teddy’s boyhood room. He knew the day would come eventually, and even though he was excited for his son, he couldn’t help but feel a bit sad as well. They had driven down to Brighton together, their old little car stuffed full of (almost) everything that Teddy would need for the coming few months.

They had spent the day getting his room in order before Remus decided it was time for him to head back home. Teddy had agreed to a coffee before he left though, and Remus was set on making the most of the time he had left with his son while he still had the chance.

The café they had picked was in the south Lanes and had a bright red door with rainbow flags decorating the windows. It was the name that had drawn Remus in though, Baskerville’s Hound written in bold letters over the painting of a big, black dog.

The place itself was cosy enough, with paintings decorating the walls together with black and white photographs of Brighton and random people. The walls were painted in a dark blue colour and the furniture was all mismatched and clearly second hand, but still in good shape.

Teddy returned without drinks, pulling out the chair opposite Remus and slumping down on it, shrugging as Remus raised a questioning eyebrow at him.

“They’ll bring it out,” he said, slouching back on his chair.

“Any chance you got a change on that twenty?”

“Sorry.” Teddy grinned at him, pushing a hand through his longish hair, currently a bright orange. Remus had long since accepted that Teddy opted to change his hair colour as often as other people changed clothes, and he enjoyed seeing him explore. “Consider it a contribution towards your only child’s education.”

“Ah, yes, never mind the 9K tuition fee,” Remus deadpanned. “It’s the change on the coffee that’s going to make the real difference.”

“I’ll need pocket money.”

The corner of Remus’ mouth twitched. “You need money for beer, you mean.”

Teddy threw his arms out. “It’s uni life, Da.”

Remus snorted just as the barista approached the table, clearing his throat.

“A latte with a dash of cinnamon and…whatever this monstrosity is,” the barista said, and Remus tore his gaze away from his son to the man standing next to their table.

Remus found himself doing a double-take at the sight of him. He didn’t know why he’d expected a student, but this man looked to be roughly his age. He was tall, muscular, with tattooed arms and wearing a simple white tee-shirt underneath a light apron with a large black dog printed on the front of it.

There was the hint of a stubble over his very chiselled jaw, high cheekbones and long, black hair pulled back in a ponytail. It was his eyes, however, that caught Remus’ attention. They were a light sort of grey that reminded Remus of silver, seemingly drawing in the light around them. They were dancing with something that looked like amusement as Teddy sat up excitedly.

“That’s mine,” Teddy said eagerly, reaching for the tall glass topped with a hefty dollop of whipped cream. “Cheers, mate.”

“I take it you’re the sensible one then,” the man said, the corner of his mouth twitching as he turned his gaze on Remus, placing the mug in front of him with a little wink. “Enjoy.”

Remus couldn’t help staring as the man walked away, gaze taking in the dark jeans and heavy boots.

“Earth to Da!”

Teddy’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts and he flinched, accidentally burning his hand as his coffee sloshed over the rim of the mug.

“Fuck,” he hissed, grabbing a napkin to wipe up his spill and when he looked back up, Teddy was watching him with a mischievous sort of twinkle in his eyes.

“You alright?”

“Yeah,” Remus replied quickly, clearing his throat as his voice came out weirdly rough. “Fine.”

“I said, are you coming down with Ma next week?”

“Oh,” Remus said, taking a sip from his coffee to distract himself momentarily. “Dunno, mate. D’you want me to?”

“You don’t have to,” Teddy shrugged. “It’s just cause she couldn’t be here this weekend.”

“Right,” Remus nodded. “I’ll be there if you want me to.”

Teddy waved it off, pulling his phone out of his pocket as it made a chirping noise.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, eyes on the display as he quickly tapped out a message. “Aoife says there’s a group heading to the pub tonight.”

“That sounds like fun,” replied Remus as his gaze darted over to the bar, just briefly, catching on the man who was wiping down glasses and humming to himself, the muscles in his arms flexing. “You should go with them, make some friends.”

He only tore his gaze away from the man as he heard Teddy’s snort, and his son was watching him with an unimpressed sort of expression.

“What?”

“Make some friends?” he echoed, pulling a face. “It’s not pre-school, Da. It’s uni.”

“What?” asked Remus, a little affronted. “You don’t make friends at university?”

“No,” Teddy said assuredly. “You just…get to know people. Hang out.”

“Right,” Remus said, giving a solemn nod. “My bad. You should go with them and hang out then.”

Teddy rolled his eyes and huffed out a breath before he turned his attention back to his phone, and Remus pressed his lips together so that he wouldn’t smile. His eyes darted briefly back towards the bar, where the man was now stacking mugs.

It would be in Brighton where a random barista looked like he’d stepped right out of one of Remus’ wet dreams. He looked exactly like the type Remus would have been madly in love with when he was younger, and, it turned out, his taste hadn’t changed that much since then.

Remus hadn’t dated much in the past few years as Teddy was growing up. It wasn’t that it had been impossible, Dora had managed to move on just fine after their amicable split, and her dating life had never affected Teddy badly, he just hadn’t prioritised it. Ever since Teddy had moved in with him full-time when he was fifteen, Remus put his own dating life on a shelf.

Dora had told him he was being ridiculous, that Teddy was more than capable of handling his dad dating, and Teddy had even told him so himself. He’d even encouraged Remus to get out there, claiming that it would do him good to get laid. It wasn’t a lie, Remus knew that, but he had simply prioritised raising his son over hookups.

He knew it would be different now though, with Teddy off to university and Remus alone in their house. They had been joking about it, and Remus was happy that Teddy was starting his own life as a young adult, but he couldn’t deny that it would be strange.

He and Dora had been so young when they became parents. She had still been at university, and he had only just completed his Bachelor's Degree. He’d been a parent for all of his 20s and almost all of his 30s, it felt wild thinking that he was approaching his 40s with more independence than he’d had in a long while.

“Right, I gotta go,” Teddy said suddenly, his voice yanking Remus out of his thoughts. “Sorry, Da.”

Remus shook his head, smiling a little as he stood. “Don’t worry about it. Time for me to head back home anyway.”

Teddy nodded, watching him for a moment, his blue eyes searching over Remus’ face and he looked so serious suddenly.

“Are you sure that you’ll be okay?”

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”

Remus couldn’t help but smile a little at the troubled look on his son’s face, the half-grimace as he gave a brief shrug.

“I’ll be fine, Da.”

“So will I,” Remus replied, smiling a little as he pulled his son close for a hug. “Don’t worry about me.”

“Can’t help it,” Teddy muttered against the crook of his neck before Remus released him. “I worry about you all alone in that house.”

“I think I’ll manage,” Remus said as he clasped a hand on his son’s shoulder. “I used to have a life before you, y’know.”

“Barely,” Teddy replied with a snort, the corner of the boy’s mouth quirking upwards as Remus swatted lightly at him.

“Oi, don’t get cheeky.”

Teddy laughed, seemingly unfazed as he leaned a little closer, stage-whispering, “You could always stay and chat up the barista, eh? I can see you ogling him.”

Remus had a horrible feeling as he was blushing as Teddy threw a meaningful look towards the man behind the counter and waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Continue on AO3.

[hwanchaesong]

Die For You

Na Jaemin X Reader

genre: fluff, suggestive at the end, sprinkle of angst, f2l au! (reader is having a hard time because of school)

word count: 1.6k

a/n: now this one is for you~ i hope you'll like it 💚 to anyone who wants to make a request, please check the rules. thank you much~

Jaemin doesn't believe in love at first sight, but he does believe in seeing someone for the first time and knowing that one day, you'll fall in love with that person.

It so happens that it's you, that one girl that always sits at the same table in his favorite coffee shop, at the same time with the same order.

You look.. peculiar? Can he even say that? He doesn't think so, he might get wacked on the head by you. But still, he really did think that you're adorable, and it became a habit for him to watch you as you minded your own business.

The idea of talking to you did not even enter his mind, not until you took the initiative because you had enough. You felt like being watched every time, and when you inspected the place, that handsome man was the culprit.

So you approached him, slamming your book and coffee on his table and sitting on the empty seat in front of him.

"Spill it." you said, and boy was he shocked because he did not expect you to be this bold.

"My coffee?" he asked, not entirely sure of what you mean but you can't blame him. The poor man has been relying on caffeine for days just to stay awake.

"No, I mean," you cleared your throat, caught off guard at his dumb reply, "why do you keep on staring at me?"

Then a light bulb switched inside his brain, beaming at you and stretching his arm towards you for a handshake, "Hi! I'm Jaemin and I think you're adorable."

That was the time when a beautiful thing called friendship bloomed. (and it turns out that between the two of you, he was the peculiar one. not you.)

Jaemin looked at his phone again, checking if you had replied to his messages. He does this every twenty minutes and his friends are getting sick of it.

"Just call her." Haechan said, scowling when he saw Jaemin check his phone once again.

"I can't do that. What if she's busy?" Jaemin countered back.

He doesn't want to intrude too much in your life, knowing his boundaries even if the two of you are very close with each other.

He was just worried. He hasn't seen you since last week and you never messaged him back.

"If you don't want to bother her, then wait patiently." Renjun, his other friend advises. A good one, but Jaemin wasn't exactly the most patient man alive.

"But I missed her!" he protested once more, earning him a collective groan among the men in the room.

"Listen," this time it was Jeno who spoke, "all these fiasco of yours are getting boring to watch."

"What?" now, Jaemin was confused, even more so when his other friends nodded in agreement. What on earth is he talking about?

"At first it was fun to watch, now it's just painful and if I'm going to be completely honest," Jeno leaned forward, like he was about to tell the dirtiest secret in the universe, "every time I see you like this, I wanna bang my head to the nearest wall."

"Then do it." Haechan laughed when Jeno threw a glare in his direction. "Jokes aside, I agree with Jeno."

Jaemin raised an eyebrow at them, "Are you guys drunk or something? What are you talking about?"

Ever the clueless Jaemin, everything needs to be spilled out for him that it made Renjun groan and push him out of the door.

"Just go to her man, you can't come back here until you've settled this!"

What good friends he has. First, they tell him things without elaborating and now they are kicking him out of their shared apartment? Well damn. Looks like he got no choice but to go to you.

After a few minutes of walking, he was already at the doorstep of your house, knocking incessantly and calling for your name.

He felt relieved when he heard your voice for the first time in weeks, "Coming!"

Upon opening the door, he was surprised at your appearance. You look so unwell, with the dark bags under your eyes, your tired demeanor and oh? Did you lose weight? What really caught Jaemin's attention was the dried tear stains on your cheeks.

His hands unconsciously made their way to your face and cupped it, "You were crying?"

Your eyes widened, slapping his hands away and shielding your face from his prying eyes, "I'm sorry Jaemin, I'm not really in the mood for this."

You were about to close the door but man was he agile, gripping your hand and hastily entering your home without your permission. (granted that it wasn't really required because you did tell him to come to your apartment whenever he wants to. you even gave him a spare key for free access.)

"Jaemin! What are you-"

He plopped you down on your sofa, "Stay there young lady, don't move a muscle and I'll cook some ramen for us."

He made his way to the kitchen, the clanking of the pans as an indication that he started cooking. You sighed and rested your head on the soft pillows of your sofa, soon, you were drifting to dreamland.

It was a relatively short nap, the smell of something heavenly woke you up. Lo and behold, a complete meal was set in your living room table.

"I thought we were having ramen?"

"At first," Jaemin answered, moving around and setting up the television so the both of you could watch your favorite movie, "but then I saw you sleeping so I decided to make more food. I'm sorry that I woke you up though." he explained, sitting beside you and giving you a sheepish smile.

"I don't mind getting woken up by a feast, honestly." you joked, eyes setting on the television as you two started to eat.

This was fun, you thought, not until you felt that same unnerving stare from years ago.

"What is this time?" you whined, now distracted and setting your food down.

"Why do you always complain? Let me admire you in peace."

You stilled, heart beating a little too fast for your liking. "You still didn't give up on that agenda of yours."

"How could I when you're literally the prettiest person I've known."

No. No. No. No. No.

You can't take this, not this time, you are having such a hard time and you don't think you'll be able to handle this.

Your thoughts were interrupted when you felt a warm hug engulfing you, Jaemin's scent filling your nose, "I missed you so much, Y/N."

You couldn't help but return the affection, melting in his embrace, "I missed you too, Jaemin. I'm sorry for pushing you away."

Jaemin hummed, momentarily moving away to fix some astray strands of hair, "It's okay, it's you. I will always understand you." he assured you, and for what felt like forever, tears of happiness began to form.

Was it really happiness? You think that some mixed emotions are also in there yet Jaemin was patient, wiping your tears away as you continued bawling. Your snot probably got in his shirt but he couldn't care. You were his priority, and he hates it when you cry like this.

He listened to you well, how you were so stressed about your academics and the never ending school works worsen your panic attacks.

He listened and listened, soft eyes watching you with empathy and sadness.

"You should've told me all of this instead of keeping it in." he mumbled against the crown of your hair, letting you calm down.

"Don't worry, you're not alone now. I'm here." his hands went up and down your back, effectively soothing your nerves.

"Thank you, really Jaemin. Thank you for sticking with me all this time even if I'm such a mess." you sniffled, giggling afterwards when he suddenly tickled you.

"Oh my god!" you squealed, falling onto your back and when you opened your eyes, you see Jaemin on top of you, gazing down at you with orbs full of nothing but adoration.

"I think you're perfect, even if you're a mess." he admitted, "Every day in my life, I see you and I think of how lucky I am because I have you."

"Jaemin." you mumbled his name, voice barely above a whisper as to not ruin the moment.

The noises from the television became static and all of a sudden, all you can focus on was your 'best friend'

"I don't really know how to explain it. I love you?" Jaemin questioned, like he was talking to his self, "That may be it but believe me when I say that I will take a bullet for you."

Jaemin slowly leaned down, his face mere inches away from your own, "You're that precious for me."

"Jaemin." you gripped his shirt tightly, "I love you too." you confessed, and that was all it took for him to seal your lips together in a silent pact that he belongs to you, and you belong to him.

Never in your wildest dreams did you expect that you'll be kissing your friend in your living room, more so when it's a passionate one.

"I'll show you," Jaemin mumbled on your neck, his mouth pressing wet kisses all over your neck.

"I'll show you how much you mean to me."

You never doubt his words, if it's Na Jaemin, then you're sure as hell that he'll do everything that he says.

After all, he's the man who's willing to die for you.

[nyoxy-ghostie]

Day twenty-four of writemas

It's Christmas eve I have wrapped all my gifts wrapped I'm so glad I got to participate, i think out of all the 24 stories I only disliked one anyway one finally thank you and appreciation to @agirlandherquill for allowing me to join and show off my work :)

P.s I changed 'it' to 'life'

Fandom: House md

My prompts: dialogue; "One day, everything we know will be gone. Until that time, you owe it to history to enjoy life."

Gregory house x Gender-neutral reader

Warnings: inaccurate medical stuff, nothing else

Feedback is always welcome <3

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

"Why do you think house acts that way?" You asked Chase, Chase scoffed and stared at you with a boyish smirk "house is an ass, you can't expect somethin' from him, he won'tgive you what you want" you hummed in acknowledgement but still wondered about him it was not exactly the awnser you wanted from chase but before you could ask another house walked into the room.

"Well what are you two school girls gossiping about?" House walked right past us to the coffee machine "nothing important, why did you tell us to meet you here if you were going to be late?" House took a sip of the coffee from his red mug, you needed to get him a new one he has had that same red mug for three years now. "I figured I'd make you wait, you know to up suspense?" House gave you a sassy look before he took another sip of his coffee, you wanted to sleep in longer you have been have rough nights sleeping and it didn't help that everytime you fell asleep it was either a nightmare or a dream about your boss.

House tossed us each a file "where's foreman?" House asked as he started writing liver failure and low circulation. "We don't know, he is probably sleeping in like every other person on the planet right now." You bit back sarcastically, lack of sleep has really messed with your head. He turned around and stared at you with an eyebrow raised, before squinting at you and turning back around to look at the white board. "Run a test for an infection" "her white count was normal." "I know. Run for infection"

It had been a full day of nothing but working, you were exhausted beyond belief. Curling up in a warm bed while some movie played on the TV sounded so nice right now, but house had you playing around with the women's blood looking for an infection that she probably didn't have as foreman would have so lovely put it. Chase looked more exhausted then you did, even if you doubt he stayed up as long as you have but you sent him home anyway.

Now it was only you in the lab, foreman left saying he had something to do and you sent chase home over an hour ago. You laid your head down as you were waiting for the spining thing to stop, that was your mistake. Your eyes shut quicker then you could fight the sleepiness in your brain, you should have known house would be the one to find and wake you up, almost as if he knew you were asleep.

House threw his cane down aggressively next to your head, it made a loud noise that made you jump awake. It took a second to realize who was infront of you, Gregory house. "Why must you make everyone around you miserable?" You mumble as you bang your head on the iron table, "well aren't you just a sunshine" he said shoving a cracker in his mouth, before he read over the computer infront of you that had all the infections on it, you had done a little over half of the 15 or 20 test needed to be done.

"One day, everything we know will be gone." You said, he rolled his eyes "you steal that one from wilson?" He asked retorically, continuing to shove another cracker in his mouth. "Until that time house, you owe it to history to enjoy life." You finished, you left the lab and started walking away to who knows where. House didn't follow you he was surprised and shocked at what you had said.

Maybe you weren't just eye candy after all, maybe your an actual doctor.

[thewritingofspencerrose]

Little Lady Masterlist

Just the Two of Us

This might be my favorite chapter yet... almost entirely because my babies get to finally be a couple <3

age twenty

Bang bang bang!

Bang bang BANG!

"Oh my God," Is all I can manage to groan, pulling the sleeves of my hoodie over my hands and curling in on myself as I move out of the warmth of my bed, just to hear the knocking once more.

"J! Please get the door, I need to grab some headache medication," I grumble, pulling up my hood as I make my way into the hall, Jack's voice meeting my ears.

"Mag's can you come here?"

"But medsss," I groan, still waddling my way to the door. And I wish I hadn't when I see who's there.

Trevor Zegras, standing with a grocery bag and flowers, smiling awkwardly as every minute of last nights conversation comes back to me.

Sure, Trevor and I have flirted for years, but last night I threw any self respect out the window and told him everything.

"I'm going to go grab breakfast with Nico and Dougie," Jack speaks up, grabbing his jacket and hat from the hanger. "When I get back, I want to be completely filled in and to remain not an uncle," He adds, his body out the door before I can even give him hell for his comments.

And then it's just Trevor and I, him still placed sturdy in the entry.

"Um, you can come in Trev," I invite, stepping back to make room for him to enter.

"I- you sounded pretty drunk last night, so when I got off the plane I grabbed some excedrin, gaterade, and some pancake mix," He rambles off, slipping off his snowy boots and gently setting the grocery bag on the counter to his left. "I uh, also got you these."

He's holding out the flowers like I might hit him with them or that he's apologizing, neither of which is necessary.

"I wanted to get you peonies since I know they're your favorite, but it's apparently not the season for it, so I got carnations instead."

"Trevor, you really didn't have to do all of this," Is my whispered response, just now looking up to meet his gorgeous eyes as I take the flowers, hugging them to my chest. "I'm sorry for bothering you last night."

"I flew from California to Jersey to see you and you think you bothered me with a call?" He gawks, having the audacity to laugh.

"I just know I was a lot," Is my reasoning, walking away to put the flowers in a vase in the kitchen. "And I brought up you asking my brothers about me even though that was years ago. I'm just trying to say I'm sorry."

His movements are faster than I'm expecting, his body suddenly not feet from me but instead with his arms on either side of my body.

We've been close before. But never with this look in his eyes.

A look that makes me feel that even though I'm in a hoodie, that I'm not realizing is Trevors from my last visit, and leggings, I'm the most beautiful woman in the world.

"Stop apologizing."

"Z-"

"Margaret Hughes, you are never a lot. You are never a bother," He adds. "You were right last night. I did ask your brothers permission to ask you out. Years ago. You were never meant to over hear what your brothers and I were talking about that night, cause God I could never imagine actually telling you how I felt. I mean, why ruin things?"

"How you felt?" That one word. Felt. Past tense.

His hand comes to the side of my head, cupping my cheek as his thumb rubs over my cheek.

"Feel," He mumbles. "How I feel."

I may need to take my pulse. I'm not sure. I may be dead.

"How do you feel, Trevor?"

Oh my God. Why did I ask that. Do I even want the answer?

"Mags," His voice is soft. Soft like the day he sat with me in the hockey rink for the last time. "I have been in love with you since we were 18. I never said anything because I didn't want to ruin things. I never wanted to risk not having you in my life. Next to your brother and Alex, you're my best friend. I couldn't ruin -"

"You could never ruin us, Trevor," I can't help but interrupt.

"Even by telling you that I'm in love with you?"

He looks so fragile, so anxious. Gone is the ever confident Ducks hotshot and here is a boy who is genuinely worried about what I say next.

"Trevor," I whisper. "I've been in love with you almost since we met. Not once has it not been you."

And then the world around me is blank except for the feeling of his lips on mine and my mine on his, his hands moving from the counter and to the back of my neck, mine linking over his shoulders and pulling him closer.

It starts slow, like we're exploring a new town like we had when he moved to Anaheim or I moved to Jersey. He's so close to me that every minute breath that leaves his nose brushing over my face.

But then it's faster, years full of love being expressed with every time our lips touch, him nipping my lips with his teeth as he pulls away.

And our foreheads touch, just like in every romance novel I've ever read, but none of those could imitate the kind of joy, the kind of love I feel right now.

"Why didn't you tell me you were into me?" Is the first thing he asks, his most charming smile on full display.

"Me?!" I can't help but yell, him jumping back as I lightly shove his chest. "You literally had my brothers approval and said nothing!! For years!"

"Okay, so I should have said something..." He agrees, "But I said something now? That counts right?"

I can't help but nod, pulling him head back down to my lips with a smile. "You have some time to make up for, but yes, that absolutely counts."

"If I saw I love you again do I get extra points?"

We both laugh at this, because we've said those simple words so many times, joking little goodbyes or on nights of drinking to bother my brother.

But now they hold so much more weight.

"You may get a few extra points," I offer with a chuckle.

His lips meet mine once more.

"Maggie Hughes, I love you."

"Trevor Zegras, I love you right back."

[monsterswithimagines]

Undisclosed Desires - Part 16

Joe Goldberg x female!Reader

Summary: Twenty minutes before he would have met Guinevere Beck, Joe meets you instead. You intruige him, but it will soon become clear that there is something off about you.

Words: 1436

Masterlist

You told me you were insecure, but I didn't really believe you.

Girls - women - say they're insecure because they think being confident is the same as bragging. They see a woman walk confidently down the street, and they consider it being slutty.

Don't believe me, (Y/n)? Just think. When an insecure woman gets raped, she is a victim. Her life is ruined. But when a confident woman gets raped, she asked for it. She ruined the man's life. Women really think like this. It's all #girlpower and #badbitches until somebody gets hurt.

But you? You don't think like that.

And you really were insecure. I can tell because you're finally gaining some confidence, and it makes a world of difference. You give your opinion to your coworkers. You go outside without spending an hour staring at yourself in the mirror (you rarely wore make-up anyway, but you used to worry about your hair).

And you're writing. A lot.

You say you're not ready for me to read your stories, but you use Google Docs, which means everything is right there on your phone. You can't blame me for sneaking a peak when you go take a shower. Really, you want me to.

I don't know what you were talking about when you said you couldn't write. Your stories are amazing. You are wasting your talents, working in marketing.

The story you're writing right now is about a glass labyrinth. A girl has been walking through it for as long as she can remember. She can't find the exit. Then one day, she meets a boy on the other side of the wall. They try to walk the same route, hoping to eventually find a way to be together, but they never do. At least not where you're at, yet.

But I know they'll find each other eventually, (Y/n), because the story is really about us. All of your stories are about us. About being distant, and then coming together.

You're writing about us being from different countries, and then finding each other. You have to be. It's all one big metaphor.

I love your stories.

You're not fighting with your mom anymore, which is good because it means you are in an infinitely better mood lately. Even when you're grumpy, you don't shut me out anymore - you want me as close as possible, all the time. When I'm working and you're not, you even hang out at the bookstore.

You also want to see my apartment. You think it's weird that you haven't before. So one night, I clean up and I invite you over. I cook for you. It turns out bad, but you praise me because it's been forever since you ate anything homecooked.

You love my apartment. You love my old typewriters (you learn all their names in less than an hour) and you love that even though it's one room, it still feels like the living room, bedroom and kitchen are seperate rooms. You love that all my stuff is secondhand and old. You even love Paco, who comes over halfway through the dinner which I failed to cook.

His mom and Ron are fighting again, and you tell Paco that Ron sounds “like a dick”. But when Ron comes banging at my door, you smile sweetly and say you think Paco's just the nicest kid and get me out of a lecture because Ron thinks it's just fine for Paco to be here if there's a girl like you around, apparently.

I meet your grandparents. Not in person, of course. One day your grandma facetimes you while I'm over at yours, and you turn my phone and tell me to wave, and then your grandfather asks me a thousand questions. You don't have a dad, but your grandfather is like one. And I think he approves of me.

Basically, everything about our relationship is falling into place. But then:

“I'm going home for Christmas.”

My world shatters.

“Home?” I ask. Maybe, just maybe, you mean something other than what I think you mean.

“To The Netherlands,” you say. You pause. “My grandmother really wants me there.”

This is the worst. This is insane. You can't just go that far away from me. Anything could happen to you!

I say: “isn't Christmas three months away? Why are you telling me already?”

Like I don't care. Like I hadn't even thought about Christmas.

“Well, I don't want you to make plans for us, or anything.”

I already made plans. We were going to have dinner with Mr. Mooney. It would have been incredibly depressing, but you have to meet him at some point because he's the closest thing I have to family. Then, I was going to take you on a carriage ride, and we were going to watch Shakespeare in the park because you've read Macbeth, but you didn't get it and really, (Y/n), I love books but Shakespeare was a playwright and his words weren't meant to be read, they were meant to be experienced.

It's how you claim you don't like romantic comedies, but really you just don't like romance novels. I know if you watched Hannah and her sisters with me, you'd love it. You'd recognize that romantic comedies are art. But you are stubborn.

“When are you going?” I ask.

“December ninth.”

“How long are you going?”

“Until January third.”

I have to live without you for almost an entire month?!

“And you can just take that much time off?”

“I’m using all my days at once,” you say. “Plus some unpaid time. And I promised not to take any vacation during the summer next year. So.” You clear your throat. “I’m sorry.”

“No, you have to go be with your family,” I say. “I get it.”

And I do get it, but that doesn’t mean it’s not also the worst thing you could have done to me. Because you are not inviting me.

And I swear, sometimes it’s like you read my mind:

“Next time I go to The Netherlands, I’m inviting you, I promise.”

“Okay.”

“It’s just that if I invite you now, my grandparents are going to think it’s way too soon. They’ll think I’m just like my mother, and I’m supposed to be different, you know?”

You talk about your grandparents like they are your parents, and your mother like she is a sister who set the wrong tone within your family. Someone you have to outdo. I don’t understand the dynamic within your family and I don’t pretend to understand it. I just stare at you until you continue:

“She’s, like, a serial dater. She’s only with a guy until he loves her, and then she fucks him, and then she leaves him. When I was a kid there was a new man around basically every week. It’s more like every month now, but still.”

You are not like your mother, (Y/n). I know because I love you, and here you are. And also, we’re not having sex. It’s not because you say no, anymore. Now, I’m the one putting it off. I have a plan for us.

“That sounds like it was hard.”

“My grandparents tried to get custody of me,” you say. “It was a whole thing.” You take a deep breath. “But yeah. So I really thought about inviting you, but I don’t want them to get the wrong idea. They’ve seen you now. I want them to hear about you more. To think of you as a guy who’s sticking around. Before they meet you in person, I mean.”

And you know what? I love that. I understand why you’re not inviting me.

I still hate it, but it does make sense.

“Okay,” I say. “Well, I can’t say I’m not disappointed that we’re not spending Christmas together, but I get it.”

“Do you have plans for Thanksgiving?”

“Not really,” I say. Mr. Mooney doesn’t believe in Thanksgiving and you’re not American, so it’s not like I have anybody to celebrate with. And anyway, it’s a holiday meant to deify white people invading a country and killing most of the population through semi-accidental biological warfare. What’s there to celebrate.

“Let’s make Thanksgiving our Christmas this year,” you say.

“Okay.”

It won't be the same. There is no Shakespeare in the park on Thanksgiving, because everybody will be watching football. But I'll just have to come up with something else.

“I can't believe we're making plans for Thanksgiving two months in advance.”

“I'm Dutch,” you say. “Be glad we're not having the Christmas conversation in March.”

[nerdthatsiriuslylovesteaxx]

I was bored

I was lying in bed trying to read, I didn't particularly enjoy reading in English but Annabeth and Percy had been helping me and I didn't want that to go to waste. Then Annabeth walked in through the half open door, holding a pair of scissors.

"Finally someone to put me out of my misery." I mutter putting the book down,

"Nope, but I will be bringing that up to your therapist. I think it's time for a haircut Nico." She said smiling like a maniac,

"Oh fuck no." I say running past her and out the front door. My hair was in a braid down my back; I ran as fast as I could but I knew Annabeth was faster than me. I saw her chasing me, I could probably shadow travel away but when her minds set to something it's very hard to get her to give up. I honestly didn't care too much but why not add a bit of excitement into this. "Why the fuck are you doing this?"

"I'm bored."

"Go find someone else to annoy."

"Don't think I will Neeks." I flipped her off and continued running, she grabbed my wrist. I shadow traveled to the edge of the forest and ran towards the center, I was hoping to throw her off but she spotted me pretty quickly and ran after me. I should have been able to stay away with the lead I had but the shadow travel tired me out and Annie's fast. I was about to shadow travel away again, "You do realise if you pass out you can do whatever I want right?"

"Fuck you."

"Save that for Will." I blushed hard before shadow traveling back to my cabin, I knew I wouldn't be able to run properly after that, but I got away for a bit. "You aren't getting away that easy, Angel boy." She said walking through the door, I was honestly too tired to do anything.

"Fine, you win. But please don't fuck up too badly."

"You have such little faith in me, I'm offended."

"We both know that that is very reasonable."

"Shut up di Angelo." She quite literally pulled me into a chair and started brushing out my hair. "When's the last time you even cut it?"

"Like a month ago I think? Will cuts the ends, it terrifys him so it's always entertaining as fuck."

"You're a terrible person Nico." Annabeth laughed

"I am fully aware; what are you doing to my hair anyways?"

"I think it's time for a change."

"Oh no.... PLEASE don't dye my hair, I am never doing that shit again."

"Don't worry... but you are getting an undercut." I paused for a couple of seconds,

"Now you see the concept, I have no problem with but the thought of you doing that...."

"Oh shut up I can actually be accurate."

"Fine, I trust you." Annabeth sectioned my hair into two parts plaiting them separately, one around the bottom and edges, one on top.

"You ready?"

"I really don't care, honestly I just wanted to make this hard for you."

"Of course you did." The daughter of Athena said while cutting off the bottom braid before buzzing the now short hair, she threw the braid in front of me. "Well that was a lot of hair."

"No shit." I laughed before hitting Annabeth lightly in the shoulder, she started taking out the rest of my hair that was in a braid and brushing it out again.

"What do you think Will's gonna say?"

"He's not going to give a fuck let's be honest with ourselves."

"You seem so certain on that."

"He didn't care when I got twenty tattoo in one day, I mean he was concerned and gave me a bunch of pain killers and kept me in the infirmary for a day but that's unrelated. I doubt he's going to give two fucks about a haircut."

"I am not going to ask why you got twenty tattoos in one day." Annabeth started cutting the rest of my wavy, thick, black hair to just around my shoulders, layering it before adding some bangs, that were long enough for me to put behind my ears. "So thoughts?"

"I'd love to give them but there isn't a mirror here."

"That's irrelevant, I want to see Will's reaction."

"That's the whole reason you did this wasn't it?"

"Naaa, I was just really fucking bored." I laughed as I ran my fingers through my hair, it was so much shorter than I had, had it in years but was kind of nice. Honestly I also really wanted to see what Will would say, I didn't think he'd be judgemental or anything. But the thoughts always had to cross my mind, all the 'what ifs?' I push them out of my mind and tell Annabeth to wait for a minute so I can wash and properly do my hair. It took about a quarter of the time it used to but still that moment of time made me think of every possible reaction for Will to have, I decided to leave my hair out as we walk to the Apollo cabin. I knocked of the door and unsurprisingly Will answered it, he saw me and kind of froze, a bit shocked.

"So what do you think?" I muttered, Will pulled me closer to him and sunk into a kiss, he tasted like strawberries. He ran his fingers through my hair; he was warm always, smelling like rubbing alcohol mixed with roses and a sweet scent I could never really place. I wrapped my arms around his neck standing on my tiptoes to reach him, grabbing the ends of Will's short, curly, blonde hair. As we broke the kiss he leaned down and whispered,

"You look amazing my Angel." I blushed and that is when we realised Annabeth was recording the whole thing and was running off to cabin one to show Jason.

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

Not a helpless chapter (sorry about that, the next chapters long and I haven't had time to write)

Pls give advice cuz I don't think the plot makes sense.

I don't know if I really like this ficlet, I started it in the middle of writing the Ariel chapter because I hated writing it so much I needed something to write that wasn't helpless.

I don't really like it but I feel like might as well post it.

I have a Angel Dust ficlet that I wrote a few weeks ago so comment if u want to see it

You will be getting Harry Potter, specifically marauders shit soon because I have far too many wolfstar ideas that I want to write that I haven't.

If you read my Wattpad stuff I promise I'll try to update Not All Hero's Have Happy Endings and if anyone wants (don't know who's reading it at this point cuz I've barely started) Mischief Managed, I was actually very excited when I started it but I think the style might change a lot cuz I started that like two years ago.

If you have any fandoms u want fics for I will try to write some, just comment.

The mystery in my mind is taking over, maybe the time is up. I will always be there with you, I promise I'll always be there.

Love,

-Siri

[according2thelore]

Oh I'm SO curious about all the wips you've mentioned but I'm especially interested in 🐺

I've been so curious about it ever since you brought it up and I'm DESPERATE for any of the alpha/omega verse, especially the collar idea UGH

I'd also really be interested in hearing about 🌀 cause I loooove unhinged sam in mystery spot(also I'm a gore fan sooo)

And of course I'm a whore for the es/ls verse so👴

Your brain is just so large I want to know EVERYTHING

hello!!!

EEE i'm so glad you liked the idea!!! <3 because it's you, i've just made these straight-up excerpts, lol! i hope that's okay!

here they are! i'm putting a cut for cannibalism mention (no actual cannibalism but you cannot be too careful!) for the 🌀 one!

🐺: Dean used to have a collar. Sam knows he did. Sam realizes, then, that Dean probably can’t use it anymore because it was a juvenile collar. It’s probably too small, now, and that makes Sam sick to his stomach.

It was green. Sam knows because he picked it out for him. He was eight, and he, Dad, and Dean had gone into an actual mall to find a clothing store that sold them. They were driving back and forth across Texas taking out cases here and there, and the motel receptionist outside of San Antonio had taken one look at Dean and gave Dad a warning glare.

He can’t be here like that. People might get the wrong idea.

🌀: (context, sam shoves his thumb into dean's bullet hole after dean accidentally shoots himself in the head, insane context i know)

“Rise and shine, Sammy!” Dean says, like Sam hadn’t just been knuckle-deep in his frontal lobe (the lobe in charge of planning, foresight, sequential thought, expressive language, Sam remembers). Sam wants to go back and press harder into Dean’s frontal lobe, see if he can completely erase the memory that Dean even has a brother.

Sam hadn’t been tracking Dean’s facial expression and realizes that he’s completely sobered, eyebrows pressed together in thinly veiled concern.

“Hey, you’re okay.” Dean says, something that he used to say after Sam had nightmares, three months ago. Sam can only imagine what he looks like. Shattered, probably.

“I want to eat your hypothalamus” Sam says. Dean blinks at him. His brow furrows farther.

“My what?” Dean asks, not sounding as disturbed as he probably should be.

“It’s the part of your brain that loves me.” Sam says, "I want it gone." He rolls over in bed, and goes back to sleep. 

Sam wakes up.

👴: A thought picks at his brain. Wait. Before Cold Oak. 2006. Sam turns to look at Dean, who’s still sitting at the table. His eyes are watching Sam intensely, and Sam wonders what he must look like to this Dean. Does he look like some funhouse mirror, twisting something well-worn and comfortable into something hulking, monstrous? Sam knows that he’s not the same shape he was when he was twenty-three. He almost wants to reach up and push his hair back. He had his bangs in 2006, right? He remembers Dean ragging on him a bunch for it. It’s almost to his shoulders now, but Dean hasn’t said anything. Sam wonders what that means. Dean—his Dean—loves to tuck it behind his ears, loves to brush it aside so he can kiss Sam’s neck, loves to have a hand in it when they kiss. And he still loves to make fun of him for it. The thought is jarring enough to get Sam’s brain back with the program. He clears his throat.

thank you for this ask! <3 i hope you enjoyed!!

-lizzy

(from this ask game here!)

[peedpanties]

Hi! can you write a fic with Levi and a male reader that loves to make Levi sit in his lap cock warm him and make him hold :)

w/ lots of praise and kisses ofc

Hes just to cute how could you not torture him a bit? making him keep his legs open as you rub your hands over his soft tummy pressing on his bladder and playing with his pretty cock that so nicely came out of his vent

live laugh Leviathan 🥰🥰🥰

Live laugh Leviathan!!

I hope this is good, I'm not as practiced with writing as i am with making art. I'm used to writing really fluffy stuff so idk how tortured he is lol, it's really soft imo.

Levi had only been sitting in your lap for maybe twenty minutes, your cock buried in his ass the entire time while he faced you. He was getting squirmy. You had watched while he sat on your cock, gulping down the 2 bottles of water you pressed to his lips.

"Settle down." You command, placing a firm hand on his bladder that definitely does not help and has him clenching around you.

"I-i…" he gives you a pathetic look. You exchange it with one that reassures him he's allowed to speak. Never in your time with Leviathan have you ever discouraged him from speaking up, but he was just so shy still. Even though this wasn't your first time together, Leviathan still hadn't gotten used to it. It worked out, you loved reassuring him all that he needed. "My tummy is so full, I can't." He finished whining.

"Yes you can, pretty baby. All you have to do is ask for help!" You said, readjusting his bangs. The personal attention only made him squirm more.

He glances away, as if there will be something there that can help him.

"I'm right here, Leviathan, don't you want my help? I know you're so full, I can feel it right here." You emphasize your statement with a light press to his bladder that has him yelping. "But look," you continue when he looks back at you, "these poor cocks of yours are here all neglected. They need my attention, don't they?"

Levi makes a strangled noise as you run your finger from base to tip along one of his cocks. The lips to his vent quiver and release more slick. He ruts a little into the touch. You press your hands down on his hips.

"Try and stay still for me, okay baby?"

You scoop up a little bit of that warm slick onto your hands and work it down one of his shafts. The noises he makes are delicious. You use your other hand to tug on his chin and bring him in for a kiss, a reward for being so vocal.

Giving Leviathan a few pumps, he mostly manages to stay still until you swipe your thumb across the slit. You hold it there a moment until his shiver stops, a reminder that he's not allowed to let go yet.

"MC, i ha-have to go, please, pretty please??" You've barely started fucking him and he's already begging.

You give him another kiss and squeeze him lightly at the base of his cocks.

"Alright," you grin, "you can start moving at your own pace, sweetie."

Leviathan sighs in relief and places his hands on your shoulders to ground himself as he lifts himself off of your cock. Very slowly, and wobbly. His legs must be feeling weak from being so aroused and so full of piss. He swears he can feel the liquid in him slosh when he lets himself fall back down onto your length.

You're still playing with his cocks, paying special attention to the heads, lightly squeezing and pumping the tips of his cocks.

A couple more thrusts and then you feel a spurt against your fingers.

"Leviathan, you're leaking."

He moans in response; he stops fucking himself on you.

"'m sorry, didn't mean to, so full, i can- can feel you all the way- in my belly."

It's incredibly hot, the way he gasps in between phrases; so worked up. He's not even trying to stay still at this point. He's grinding down against you, hard against your hips, as if he is trying to be even closer to you.

The next time he lifts himself off of you, you pull out a little more, and buck up into his ass before he's fully ready, more of your cock sliding against his walls. More spurts dribble from his tips, and you begin fucking the piss out of him.

He doesn't make it through very many thrusts until you feel two warm streams pressed against your own stomach, coming in bursts each time your hips connect with the flesh of Leviathan's ass. He's moaning and whining nonstop.

"Look at this puddle, baby," you say, calling his attention to the floor. "You really did have so much inside you. My poor, poor baby." You coo at him. "You did so good for me, you held it for me even longer than last time! I'm so proud of you!"

He melts at the praise, unable to help the way he's clenching around you. He's still squirming, but no longer because he needs to pee.

"Thank you." he says, sounding exhausted. You hook your arms under his hips and he instinctively links his hands around your neck, ready to be carried.

You waddle over to the bed with your cock still inside, willing yourself not to come yet. You gently lay Levi down on the bed, letting his hands fall beside his head. You cage him in with your arms, making him feel so protected and loved.

"Can I move, sweetheart?"

He nods, giving you a look that says he might cry if you don't start moving soon. He's laying back and letting you do the work, but he's earned it. Besides, you both love it when he just lets himself be taken and used.

Leviathan is already such a fucked out mess, the slide is easy. The wet squelching sounds of your lube-and-piss-soaked dick fill the room, driving each of you crazy.

You give him no warning when you come inside, balling the sheets in your fists. He comes soon after, satisfied to watch from below you as you pump him full.

[skylermadness]

A Bond Forged in Steel (Zeke Von Genbu and Rex (Future Redeemed) TF)

(Original Date of Upload: March 25, 2024)

Original Description:

Story commission. This story was honestly extremely fun to write out! I've been wanting to do TFs of Zeke and Rex's Future Redeemed incarnation for a very long time, so being able to do so and be given to play with some homoeroticism is honestly quite the bargain for me. Plus, I mean, they're both extremely hot. Although this is definitely my first time doing a double TF/MG. Most doubles I've done had both characters be practically completely different in body types and whatnot so this was definitely a first time for me! Overall I'm really happy with the outcome and hope I get more chances to do stuff like this again! ...I still crave Xenoblade men TF. There needs to be more. Rated Mature for nudity, bulge, and mild sexual themes.

   Anniversaries have always been an interesting day for some couples. Certain compulsions arising on varying ends of the relationship for one person to show the other just how much they care. In the end it meant ensuring a rather fulfilling experience for everyone involved. Unfortunately it can quickly devolve into a stressful time as the all-important date approaches for the couple in question.

   So Zack was rather lucky that he didn't have to deal with that stress. In truth, the current day that was today is his anniversary with his boyfriend Nathan. Their romantic relationship has been going on for exactly a year now and Zack had wanted to commemorate the occasion with something special. A surprise gift for the person he loved, and one that he knew Nathan would adore…

   It was actually a week ago that he had the initial thought for this idea. Considering that his boyfriend was quite the fanatic for the Xenoblade Chronicles series of games, Zack had wanted to find a gift that would align with that particular interest. At first his search was rather fruitless, being mostly varying assortments of fairly pricey figurines or small custom trinkets that while looking pretty didn't feel like they'd convey his care as much as he would want them to. In the end it wasn't until just three or so days ago that he had finally found just what he truly needed.

   Life-sized weapon replicas.

   It was a weird find to say the least, alongside being oddly coincidental since they were being sold at a cosplay shop near where they shared an apartment were a menagerie of (presumably) plastic prop weapons for varying characters from the game series. While the more iconic weapons such as Shulk’s Monado and Noah’s Sword could be found in its stock, Zack had been more focused on finding proper recreations of the swords owned by the favorite characters of his significant other. 

   As he thought that he had seemed to ride off the same stroke of luck that brought him to this store’s website in the first place. With just a bit of scrolling he ended up finding the exact swords he was looking for being listed. Those being Zeke Von Genbu and Pandoria’s shared Big Bang Edge greatsword, and the Firelight Swords that Rex wielded in the 3rd game’s Future Redeemed expansion. All three of which seemed to only go for twenty five dollars each. 

   With that price calculation being a measly seventy five dollars total it didn't take long for Zack to set up a reservation to buy them in person. That's where he was today, the young man standing outside the store whose site he visited just mere days earlier: Maurice’s Exceptional Cosplay Collectibles.

   Seeing as he was here with a purpose Zack was quick to push open the door and walked into the shop, a bell above the entrance signaling his arrival. A cursory glance around the shop seemed to prove only one other person was inside with him. A relatively older-looking, balding and bearded man that was behind the store’s counter. Said counter also seemed to have three objects set atop it that could instantly be recognized as the swords the younger man had reserved.

   “Ah, take it yer that Zack fellow?” the older man, Maurice, inquired upon noticing the other’s entrance. “Didn’ anticipate you comin’ this early. Was just gettin’ ready to bag yer stuff!”

   Zack gave the storekeeper a casual wave as he walked towards the counter. “Yep, that would be me! Ended up wanting to get the stuff early. I guess the thought of my boyfriend’s reaction upon seeing these spurred me to come as quickly as I could.”

   Maurice smiled and nodded. “Gift for a loved one, eh? Seein’ as yer here you could take a look at yer order as I find a bag large enough to hold ‘em all.”

   “Sounds good!” Zack gave a thumbs up. Now that he was properly at the counter he could get a proper look at these objects in person…

   It was astonishing just how accurate the three replicas seemed to be. The sheer size of them was almost to the scale of the scenes he had seen in the games. The massive and wide broadsword of the Big Bang Edge, its rectangular pommel adorned with lightning bolt-shaped formations jutting from its sides. The Firelight Swords looked like the Aegis blades but still possessed clear differences to them that made it seem like they looked to be two halves of one blade. It all made Zack impressed, and he was rather glad to have gotten a chance to buy them all for a rather cheap price. Especially with how high quality they all seemed!

   While the young man had gawked at the replicas, Maurice had spent his time placing a good few plastic bags into each other so the blades wouldn't tear through everything. “Should consider requestin’ people bring their own bags for this stuff-” he muttered to himself. Though once all the bags were prepared he turned back to the counter. “Everything looks good to ya?”

   “Yep!” Zack responded enthusiastically. “I just wonder how you managed to create such life-like recreations…”

   Maurice let out a low chuckle as he placed each sword into the bag. “Trade secret, kid~”

   He then placed the bagged-up blades onto the counter. “Feel free to skedaddle now. Hope yer boyfriend loves these things!”

   “I’m absolutely sure he will!” Zack said with a smile. He hoisted the bag around his shoulder, wobbling a bit at the realization of how weighty these things seemed to feel. “Oh these are a little heavier than I expected too…”

   With the transaction now completed, the young man made his way out of the store with the objects in tow. All the while the storekeeper smiled a very knowing smile.

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

   Having managed to net himself a day off from work, Nathan had spent much of the morning at his and his boyfriend’s shared apartment finishing up whatever JRPG of the month he was on while waiting for Zack to come back home. He wasn't initially aware that the other man was going to be leaving, nor did he really know where they had gone. His boyfriend just gave him a casual ‘I’m heading out for a bit!’ and left before he had a chance to ask anything. That was roughly an hour ago though.

   Now the time was hovering close to noon and Nathan’s gaming excursion was interrupted by the sound of the apartment’s front door opening. Pausing his game, he looked over to the entrance to find Zack struggling with hauling what seemed to be three swords in a bag on his back.

   “Could I get some help here-” Zack strainly asked, prompting Nathan to get up from the couch and help him out.

   “Christ, man, what the hell were you up to out there!?” Nathan inquired. He let Zack lean on him for a little bit as the other man steadily shifted the bag off of their shoulder.

   “This!” was Zack’s only response as the bag collapsed onto the ground, a chorus of metal clangs reverberating from it as it fell.

   “Wha…” Nathan's gaze wandered to look at the contents of Zack’s bag. While had initially noticed while his boyfriend was walking in that it was some kind of collection of swords, the moment his eyes laid onto them he realized just what kind of swords they were.

   “X-Xenoblade merch!?” he exclaimed. “Not just that but, such real looking blade replicas…”

   He went to pick up one of the objects, the red blade that was one half of Rex’s Firelight Swords. He struggled a bit to just pick it up with one hand. He surmised it was because of the metallic make of them based on how the blade’s grip felt in his hand. An assumption that was instantly confirmed once he held the blade out in front of him.

   “Did you go to some kind of metal workshop for this!? This looks like an actual sword!”

   “No, I got them from some kind of cosplay store in the inner city,” Zack responded. He curiously picked up one of two remaining blades, this time the Big Bang Edge. Although considering its size he had to use both hands instead of just one. “I-I could've sworn these were plastic when I bought them though!” he nervously stated. “No way a bunch of real swords would go for seventy five dollars total, y'know?”

   “I’m just going to state it outright,” Nathan hauled up the white and gold Firelight Sword out of the bag with the other hand. “I think you bought three real ass swords. Although the fact you got actual realistic replicas of some Xenoblade objects is so…” he fixed his gaze at the two swords he was holding. “Astonishing.”

   “I take it you like them?” Zack said with a hopeful smile.

   “Like them? I love them! I don't know where I'd put them all but, between the realistic appearance and the sheer accuracy and-” he was about to go on a tangent, but he began to feel something off the longer he held onto both sword grips. “How recently forged were these? They still feel a little hot…”

   “What?” Zack raised a brow. He then started to hear a low, almost inaudible crackling noise from his own blade. Looking down at it, he found that his own sword was sparking somehow. Small bolts of electricity escaping and spiraling around the blade in some mesmerizing dance. “Woah, dude, do you see this?”

   “Uh, I think you should maybe put that down-”

   “Yeah, that'd probably be a good-”

   Zack didn't get a chance to finish his sentence as the sparks of electricity promptly emanated from the weapon's hilt and in just one second shocked both hands that were gripped onto it. With a yelp of pain the young man unhanded the blade and let it collapse unceremoniously on the ground. “C-crap-”

   A look of concern formed on Nathan’s face. “Are you okay!?”

   “I…” Zack began formulating a response, but stopped as he looked down at his hands.

   A feeling of pins and needles coursed through both of Zack’s hands. A sensation that could only be equated to feeling like touching television static. And the longer that sensation remained the more a strange series of changes began to ensue in each hand. One of the most noticeable changes came in the form of their size altering, growing in front of his very eyes. Swelling out to become larger and thicker, quickly becoming a far cry from their previously smaller appearance. It was as if their bone structure and muscle mass was just increasing in size, improving almost. This would become quite prevalent when it came to his fingers. Each one plumped up and thickened, further granting his hands a more powerful appearance. 

   “Uhhh…” the young man vocalized as he watched everything unfold. His gaze was then brought to his arms as he felt a weird swelling sensation within them.

   Thanks to the shorter sleeves of his shirt Zack was also granted quite the view of his transforming limbs. Much like with his hands the forearm region of each arm began to rapidly accumulate muscle mass. Quickly did they swell thicker, the once thin form of them being consumed by the burgeoning appearance of raw strength. As muscles grew they only became more tangible, creases forming in his skin over where muscle groups would divide. It was almost as if the young man was being granted some kind of instantaneous appearance of years of working out and improving his muscles.

   His upper arms weren't being left unscathed either. While the extensors in his forearms expanded, the muscle groups above his elbows were quick to follow. He could feel his sleeves begin to constrict as the diameter of the region increased in size. A low heat and a sensation of static buzzed through his sensory nerves as his upper arms bulked up, once non-existent biceps burgeoning with raw power while his triceps matured alongside them. Fabric would only continue stretching over his shoulders as his deltoids were developed greatly in size, rounding out and perfectly indenting themselves into the article of clothing.

   Zack had been left rather awestruck. Despite the strange feeling coursing through his muscles, he could tell just how raw the strength within them seemed to feel. He couldn't deny the uncanny feeling of the situation though. Managing to break out of his stunned daze the young man could only say, “N-Nathan, I don't know what's happening-”

   Nathan had been watching the start of Zack’s transformation, a worried look having formed on his face. He didn't know what was happening either, especially since people just don't spontaneously become muscular! But he was having trouble trying to come up with anything calming. This situation was proving itself to be complicated from the get-go.

   Nathan then realized just how hot the blades he was holding were getting. For just a second he moved his focus away from his boyfriend and onto the white and gold sword of the pair, and that’s when he caught that it seemed to be glowing. Out of a mixture of surprise and a feeling that he couldn't for too long hold two objects that felt like they were becoming as hot as a stovetop, he had quickly dropped the Firelight Swords before anything could happen. It would seem it was already too late for him though and a burning heat entered his core forcing Nathan to grunt as he clenched his chest. 

   “Fuck-” was the only word he could spit out. In his mind though he was already connecting the dots. Was he about to start to change as well?!

   It would only take a few seconds for the answer of that question to arise. Whereas Zack’s transformation had started in his hands, Nathan’s seemed to begin in his chest. As heat welled up in his core he could feel a sensation of swelling within his pectoral region. This was proven to be caused by his chest garnering definition of its own. Nathan had been a fairly skinny guy since the man had not really been one to do much in working on his muscles. However as seconds continued to pass his once relatively flat chest expanded outwards. Pecs were rapidly forming and pushing forward becoming thicker, larger than they had ever been previously. The best way to describe them were two meaty slabs that had risen from his chest. This new development in his musculature also formed a crevice between the two pectorals. This perfectly defined cleavage had easily indented itself into the fabric of his polo shirt, as did the muscles themselves.

   If that wasn't enough he could also feel a churning sensation in his abdominal region. This was being caused by even more muscles developing within the man. His tummy, once only flat with an average amount of fat for a young adult layered on it, was becoming just as chiseled and defined as his chest. Ridges indented into his skin as a set of abs just pushed outwards. Any initial bagginess of his shirt would be dispelled in an instant as these muscles enhanced themselves and further made their presence known by indenting into the fabric more and more. Gone would be the skinny torso of an average man, now replaced by a more brawnier appearance. That wasn't the end for Nathan’s changes either as he felt a pressure wrack his spine, soon followed by the sensation that his body being tugged upwards. The hem of his shirt was rising as a result of this, revealing a light dusting of hair beginning to make its way up the middle of his lower abdominal region.

   Nathan let out another grunt as he forced himself to stand up straight. A hand still clenched over his chest as the heat continually poured across his form. He could practically feel the upper portion of his shirt sleeves begin to constrict. “We- we both are becoming so… muscular, it seems…”

   “Y-yeah,” Zack strained out. He still felt a bit stunned, and the sight of his boyfriend growing such a massive shelf had been a little concerning. But at the same kind he couldn't hide his blushing at just how big Nathan’s pecs seemed to have gotten now. It made him a little bit envious.

   Of course as Zack feels that emotion he begins to feel a tinge in his own chest. He took his gaze off Nathan and forced his head downward, and instantly he was greeted with the sight of his own pectorals pressing up on his shirt by just a bit. They only seemed to continue as well by pressing forward more, developing their own proper thickness that seemed to get more prominent as his body seemed to broaden. The young man could only watch in awe as his pec muscles inched forward and continued to swell and round out into perfect slabs themselves that just forced the shirt he wore to stretch over and outline their perfect physique. He had even gotten his own cleavage indent within the fabric too.

   The lower half of his torso wouldn't be left out from these changes either. He could just barely see his abdominal region bubble as he was granted the sight of his own abs advancing in musculature. His abs would sculpt themselves out of his relatively unimpressive form and etch ridges into his skin to properly divide the muscle groups. All the while he was privy to the sight of a six pack set of abs miraculously manifesting from his body and replacing his once twinkish nature.

   The spontaneous muscle growth in Nathan had seemed to be in the process of shifting to match Zack’s. As Zack was fixated on his torso, Nathan’s eyes had been brought over to his arms. Unlike his boyfriend Nathan had been wearing a long-sleeved shirt, so he wasn't initially granted the perfect view of his bulking arms. But with the passing of time he would still be given the sight of something.

   The best way to describe the way his arms changed was it felt akin to watching a balloon get pumped with a constant flow of air. Each limb was effectively pumped with muscle at a smooth and steady rate. It was a rather majestic sight just watching his shoulders broaden with perfectly developed deltoids, or seeing his biceps and triceps swell up into rounded cantaloupes. All while the material of his sleeves tried their best to hang on and contain his constantly growing muscle mass. But not even they could handle his thick upper arm muscles and it didn't take long for him to see his shirt sleeves tear over his biceps. 

   His forearms had been enduring the same changes concurrently as well. Bulking up with raw muscle to such a point that he could the crevices through the fabric of his sleeves. Just the raw definition of it all was enough to overwhelm him more than the heat in his heart was doing. Such perfect form that almost felt like it belonged to someone who spent ages working hard to get their muscles to this size.

   That process of thoughts had even seemed to be proven as his hands grew. Rapidly increasing in size to match his massive proportions, swelling to be larger and thicker. Just a raw sense of strength that exuded from each growing hand as if they had the ability to punch straight through a wall. An idea that could be further supported by his slightly chunkier fingers, the digits needing to have grown as well to accommodate his new hand size. But what really got him was the tingling in his palms, the sensation in his clenched hand as he felt the skin upon it seem to almost harden a bit. As if despite the almost pristine condition of them there was still a certain amount of age that had to be added to his hands. Age that would manifest in wear and tear, something that could easily come in the form of callusing of the skin.

   His limbs seemed to have been dealt with now. This had meant that Nathan and Zack were on equal terms physically for the time being. Although as Nathan looks over towards Zack he can tell the other man still seemed a bit smaller in comparison to him. He could also see a strange look of poorly hidden embarrassment on the other’s face as well. A look that Nathan knew all too well…

   “A-are you enjoying this!?” Nathan inquired.

   The sudden outburst made Zack yelp. “I-I- maybe!? I'm just…” the young man shakily brought a hand to his chest, a chorus of rips echoing through the air from his short sleeves as he did so. “Muscle…”

   Nathan blinked a few times. He couldn't deny himself that the sudden growth in muscle was rather appealing… but this was all so weird! He can't just let that strangeness slide-

   “H-hey, wait… can you say something…?” Zack had suddenly asked out of the blue.

   “Eh?” Nathan raised a brow. “Why would you- w-wait, my-”

   His voice. He could hear his voice cracking at random intervals, and each time it did so it had seemingly gotten deeper. Even weirder was that it was altering beyond that in varying degrees as well. It's tone, it's pitch, and was his accent shifting too!?

   Nathan looked straight at Zack, preparing himself to hear his voice again as he was about to verbally make a comment about it. His words were halted almost instantly in his throat however, mouth hanging open as he seemed fixated on something. Zack seemed to catch onto this though.

   “Why are you looking at me like that…?” Zack asked, oblivious. “Is something happening to my… face…”

   His statement trailed off as something silvery began entering his field of vision from above and continued growing downward more for a few seconds before stopping. This didn't seem to stop though as a few more bits of silver descended upon the leftward portion of his field of vision. But at this point he knew what it seemed to be, the young man bringing a hand up to his face to grasp onto a clump of this silvery growth.

   “My hair, it's growing… longer…?” Zack then unhanded the newly grown tufts of hair. However as he lowered his hand he too noticed something on his boyfriend’s face as well. “D-dude, I think your hair’s becoming a bit-” the statement is broken by a sudden caught before he continued, “-funky as well- o-oh crap…”

   As much as Nathan wanted to comment on Zack’s own voice changes, his curiosity got the better of him. He mustered just enough strength so he could move his currently unoccupied hand to the top of his head. There he found the feeling that his hair had gotten a little bit thicker, fuller than it had used to be. “What the hell…”

   “This just-” Zack cleared his throat to try in vain to dispel his own shifting voice. “This just keeps getting weirder!”

   Zack visibly cringed at the sound of his voice. How was it that in just a few seconds his voice had gone from being normal to sounding weirdly over the top!? It didn't sound deeper since it still sounded like one that could possibly belong to a young adult. However it was feeling like the tone of it was becoming more flamboyant.

   “Mmf, you’re telling me…” Nathan responded. His focus had gone back down to looking at his body. He had taken note that his polo continued to strain over his torso, and the placket of it was just being stretched out from his wider form. A moment of curiosity dictated his next action as he decided to inhale a deep breath, wincing a bit as it still felt like his heart was burning. But the action of his chest rising caused the shirt to begin splitting down the middle. He then exhaled from a sigh. That act alone seemed to be enough to start the steady dispelling of his weird heartburn at least…

   “Y-you do have a nice chest there, eheh…” Zack complimented. Nathan just rolled his eyes, although he couldn't stifle the blush he got from the compliment. Although come to think of it he was also beginning to feel something else strange welling up around the lower half of his body. That's when he noticed his pants were feeling a bit tighter now as well.

   This tightness was initially signified by the newfound constriction around his waist. However it only seemed to increase as he felt the now-familiar feeling of muscles growing thanks to the transformative effects having reached his legs. The denim of his jeans pressed tightly against his skin as he felt his thigh muscles swell up and bulge up. As was in the rest of his body a sizeable thickness was just constantly being added on to Nathan’s legs to the point the muscle ridges indented in the legwear’s material. The perfectly sculpted appearance of his hamstrings and quadriceps were becoming fully tangible through it all.

   Perhaps that wasn't the most interesting part though. That came with the sensation of his gluteus muscles growing out and the pure sensation of his briefs being filled up. The once perfectly fitting undergarments were quickly filled in the behind by his rear swelling up. Muscle bloating it up larger while fat rounded his ass out more. The size was becoming so prominent that the seat of his pants had ended up filling out as well. It didn't take long until Nathan developed a perfectly rounded rear end, a newly developed bubble butt straining the back of his pants and underwear.

   The front of him wasn't spared from this kind of change either judging by the sensation of the frontal area of his briefs straining against something. A new, much lower heat formed in Nathan’s cheeks as he felt a rather pleasuring sensation deep in his groin. A feeling that the components in that region were increasing in size like the rest of his body had done. He couldn't help but look down to witness it all himself: the sight of a growing mount forming at the front of his jeans, the odd sound of the zipper snapping to allow him to see the pristine white of his undergarments. That mound continued to form more and more as his member burgeoned in size. He had gotten a bulge, and it felt… euphoric in a way.

   He nervously looked up at Zack, hoping he could take his focus off his groin for a bit. Although he had instantly taken note of his boyfriend’s flustered state. Nathan guessed their transformations were mirrored in every way, it would seem.

   Concurrent with Nathan’s own transformation, Zack had found his own lower half swelling up as well. His shorts had typically hung off his rather skinny legs in a fairly standard way initially, but with the growth of his own thigh muscles it seemed that became a false statement. The proper fitting of his own legwear was dispelled, easily replaced with the same swelling of muscle mass that had been going on in his entire body. It didn't help that the material of his shorts seemed to not be the most durable which had made his ears privy to the sound of the seams ripping from the strain of his much more powerful muscles.

   Then came the changes to his own assets. The odd churning in Zack’s behind as he felt his rear bloat and swell. The constant sensation of the back of his legwear and undergarments straining against his increasingly larger ass. The fact he couldn't help but reach a hand down and behind himself to just feel the newly developing roundness of his rear from beneath his shorts. It was such a foreign feeling to the young man, especially since he always felt his butt was rather flat before all of this. So being able to experience this weird pressure that bloated his rear as it did his chest…

   Then there was the feeling of his groin shifting. That came with an emotion he couldn't suppress as well. He could already feel the blood rushing downwards as the nerves were stimulated by the sudden growth, the sudden feel of the easily satisfied skin suddenly pushing up against the cotton of his underwear and straining it. He just couldn't stop himself from using his other hand to just grab onto the swelling area. It just felt too erotic and it was taking all of his willpower not to just undo his shorts so he could let his own bulge hang out. He didn't though, what little desires of decency still remained in his now testosterone-ridden brain.

   “F… feeling good?” the deep, seemingly aged voice of Nathan calling from a few feet away. Zack couldn't help but deny how sexy that developing accent of his boyfriend’s was getting.

   “Nngh…” Zack failed to stifle a moan. “Yeah…”

   The remainder of the duo’s changes to their lower bodies happened in synchronicity. For Zack his lower legs were visible allowing the ballooning of his calves to be on full display. Meanwhile Nathan’s jeans were noticeably continuing to strain against his own growing calves, and the seams holding the jeans together finally started to become undone. It didn't take long for the thickness of each of their legs to reach an equalness to that of the rest of their bodies.

   The final portion of their lower bodies were the pair’s feet. This section of the transformation mirrored their hands, each foot growing out to be thicker and larger to fit their new bodily proportions. The toe caps of their shoes bulged with sets of bumps representing their increasingly chunkening toes. All the while the two of them could feel their heels dig into their footwear. The concurrency of their changes meant their shoes eventually started to rip apart at the same time, toecap steadily splitting off to allow the longer length of their feet to be freed. All the while the strings split apart against their newfound width. Both men’s shoes had become totalled by the end of these changes, allowing their feet to all be comfortable without being restricted by the confines of footwear.

   With the destruction of their shoes came even more destruction of their clothing. Nathan’s polo shirt was already getting pretty far in this as the shreds of its long sleeves hung off his arms while the torso section of it continued splitting apart against his massive muscles. The more his chest and abs became visible the more another, more minor change grew prominent. There was a formation of a light dusting of chest hair sprouting across his pecs, alongside a small trail of it running down the middle of his abs. The small amount of fuzz also seemed to have a grayish-brown tone to it that his hair hadn't usually possessed. 

   Meanwhile with Zack, the short sleeves of his shirt had split apart by this point. Long rips were tearing their way across the torso segment as well making his own muscled form increasingly visible. He also wasn't exempt from a weird addition to his chest either, although his was more unorthodox than Nathan’s had been. Visible from a rip that had formed over his right pectoral was a massive scar that etched itself into his flesh. Even stranger was the bright blue glow in the middle of the scar. Zack felt the sensation of something materialize and embed into his chest, which he quickly found out to be some kind of triangular-shaped gemstone.

   Nathan had watched the sight himself, and that was when everything finally clicked. “That gem…”

   “Wha…?”

   Nathan let his statement resonate a bit. The way his own voice was deepening, the Light Northern British accent that kept embedding into his speech, the purely aged and wisened tone of it all. The more he spoke the more he came to realize something about himself as well.

   “Nathan, you're looking like you realized something,” Zack spoke out. His own voice had seemed to be finally settling as well. The still over-the-top Southern England accept that resonates with his statements. It in itself was fairly distinct, recognizable.

   “Y-you haven't noticed it yet??” Nathan said, a bit dumbfounded. “The- the blades! They've been turnin’ us into their owners this whole time!”

   “...huh-” Zack looked down at his chest again. The crystal. Oh, oh. “Wait I'm becoming-”

   “Yeah.”

   “And you-”

   “Yep,” Nathan ended the chain with a nod.

   For a few seconds silence just hung in the air. Then Zack made a random comment: “I guess that'd explain why you're getting some facial hair…”

   Nathan raised a brow. “Eh?”

   With the heat in his chest finally gone he was able to more easily move himself around his little strain. He lifted up a hand to touch his chin and, unsurprisingly, grazed over a few hairs that had grown there. His fingers were even feeling more hairs grow in that region as well! From a secondary perspective it would appear that an amount of gray fuzz had sprouted from the base of his chin. It was fairly light at first, but as the seconds passed this newly developing chin stubble was growing to be a little thicker than just stubble. Facial hairs continued to grow out of his chin and developed a fairly average length. It wasn't long until the stubble appearance was now more of a thin patch of beard.

   That wasn't the only portion of his face that was changing either. While his small beard developed Nathan could feel a slight pressure extend across his skull. The shape of his skull was reconfigured into an almost rectangular appearance. Meanwhile his jawline felt like it was squeezed a little, and instead of squaring out the ends of it slanted diagonally a bit until its shape became a little more like a rounded triangle. All the while his facial features had been morphing alongside everything. The end of his nose became a little raised, the size of his eyes getting slightly larger, even his eyebrows seemed to thin out rather significantly. All the while it seemed a few wrinkles formed on his face, most noticeably beneath his eyes, which gave him a more aged appearance.The most drastic change came to his left eye however as in just a few seconds it was damaged to the point of losing sight and got scarred over. All of that forced Nathan to compulsively keep that eye shut.

   “That was sudden-” was the best reaction he could muster as he brought his hand up to graze the scar.

   The last part of his physical transformation came with his hair. It had already been in the process of changing just minutes prior, but now that was being sped up. The style constantly became thicker and fluffier as clumps were brought together to formulate a thick and spiky style. This spiky hairstyle continued to form as bits hung over his forehead, other bits jutted diagonally upwards on the sides and back of his head, and everything culminated with many of the spikes raising upwards on his head’s apex. Just a dense mass of spikes of hair rising from the top of his head in a neat, well-organized appearance. All the while the same grayish-brown that etched into the rest of his body hair was now forming in the hair on his head, rapidly overtaking it and fully replacing its previous color. The way his hair appeared in style and fluffiness at this point should be impossible to achieve, but here it was on his head.

   Zack’s own head has also been in the process of morphing all of this time as well. He didn't seem to develop any facial hair, but he did feel pressure wrack his own skull as his skull structure was forcibly shifted to fit his new body. While the upper portion of his skull became more equal and rounded, almost akin to a circle, his jawline slanted and chiseled triangle that blunted at his chin. His own features changed alongside this by having his eyes seem to thin a little, eyebrows thinning out a lot, and the width of his nose narrowing as the end of it rounded a bit. By the end it would seem his face gained a symmetrical visage that possessed an almost regal appearance.

   All that remained was the case of his hair which was now in the process of actively lengthening. As the almost metallic silver shine rose from the roots to overtake the follicle coloration, all of his hair just continued to grow longer. Bits of it hanging down and grazing his chin while other bits drifted around his ears. He could even feel portions of his hair touch the nape of his neck. It didn't seem to grow any longer than that though. It also didn't look to have that smooth of an appearance either as his own hair could be defined as spiky to some capacity. Long clumps just sticking out or curling at uneven intervals while a strange layering now seemed to exist in his hair. It too looked to be one impossible to attain hairstyle.

   With that their bodily changes were complete and the two were left just looking at each other. Two newly-minted brawny men in torn clothing, said men now looking like perfect copies of Zeke Von Genbu and Rex from Xenoblade Chronicles. To say they were utterly speechless right now was an understatement… then after a few seconds Zack just began to rip the tattered remains of his clothing off his body.

   “I am not just going to stand here in shards of my t-shirt!” Zack plainly stated, knowing his boyfriend was looking right at him. Nathan just watched before he too joined in the ripping off of what little remained of his more-than-ill-fitting clothing.

   As they both did that it seemed one final change was ensuing. Although in this case it was happening to their undergarments as for both of them did that article of clothing alter. Just barely growing in size but not enough to lose the prominent bulge, and the back of them shortening enough to reveal a bit of their bubble butts. All while the previous cottony material was hardened into nylon, and their previous colorations were rapidly shifted. For Zack the pure white was lost to a deep blue with gray geometric patterning on the sides, and for Nathan it became a dark gray with a bold blue X over front and back. It had seemed they both were wearing speedos now, and by the time they finished tearing off their clothes they took note of this fairly instantaneously.

   “Uhh, that's… different,” Nathan remarked. He honestly would've expected his clothing to have morphed into something else entirely but… this works, at least. Plus he could see Rex’s- or well, his massive muscles in all their heroic glory. Something about that thought made him feel his cheeks flush with red again. Especially since his gaze was moving up to his chest. Although he was broken out of this state pretty fast by Zack starting a conversation.

   “Zeke’s pretty built, isn't he?” Zack stated, flexing an arm and feeling just how firm the bicep had become. Despite how weird it all felt he could deny that something about all of this was hot!

   “I would've assumed you'd know that since you watched me play the second game,” Nathan responded. The now older-looking man then walked closer towards Zack, noticing that he was still at least an inch or two taller than the other man. “Although I think I'm the one that got a bit larger~”

   Nathan than flexed his own arms, knowing full well that Zack would ogle over them. In which yes, his boyfriend did end up doing so as his gaze was instantly drawn to the other’s thick muscles. Although he was a little taken aback that Zack had instantly come closer to actually start feeling them up.

   “Man, you're thick…” Zack complimented as he squeezed Nathan’s biceps. The statement itself sounded rather humorous as well since he had Zeke’s voice. “I think I might be a little jealous~”

   “Eh, don't be,” Nathan responded, his aged voice sounding so tender and caring. He brought a hand down onto Zack’s undamaged pectoral and gave it a nice, firm squeeze as well. “Your muscles are quite satisfying to feel too.”

   Nathan couldn't help but let out a deep chuckle as he say Zack blush. “O-oh really?”

   “Mhm…” Nathan nodded, beginning to inch his aged face closer to Zack’s still young adult one. “And I’d say you gave us both quite the spectacular surprise this anniversary.”

   Then, before Zack could even respond, Nathan pressed his lips up to Zack’s. An intense feeling of passion welled up between the two. Like their love for each other had been reaffirmed in some way. Even in different bodies from their own they were still absolutely irresistible to each other, and odds are taking on the form of two hot video games men just exacerbated that feeling by a hundred times. And the longer their mouths touched the more both men could feel their blood boiling and rushing through their bodies. They truly wanted each other more than ever…

   Then Nathan broke off the kiss, a playful smile forming on the man’s face. “Now how about I show you a thing or three in bed?” he practically purred in his accented voice.

   Zack, who was still blushing, let out a laugh. “Only if you call me the Bringer of Chaos there~”

   Nathan then wrapped his arms around Zack’s waist, bringing the other even closer to his body. “Anything for you, Zeke~”

   “Then how about we get going, Rex?”

   With those statements said the two men happily made their way to their bedroom, a very passionate anniversary having now been fully forged.

[dichromaticdyke]

@plvtosun drew devon because she's a sweetheart and so here's a payback fic 😘

hope i did a good job with blanquita i love her so much i'm halfway through Selenicerus

The girl with blue hair had been sitting at the bar for a while, anxiously scribbling away at her notepad. Devon had been keeping an eye on her, wondering if she’d ever actually order anything. The bar wasn’t busy, it was still early enough in the evening before all that, so they could manage feasibly manage one loiterer up here.

Still— “Look, I don’t mind if you draw up here, but can I at least see some ID first?” they asked, putting their hand on the table, as close to the girl’s sketchpad as they could get without actually touching it.

Her eyes peeked up through her bangs, and she blinked up at them a couple times. “’m twenty-three,” she mumbled, eyes turning down a bit.

“I’m sure you are. I’d like to see that on ID, though.”

She blushed, a ghost of a pout on her face, before sitting up a bit. Devon could get a partial glance of her sketch now, but they tried not to pry. She pulled out her wallet, throwing her ID onto the bar. “There.” She was really turning away from Devon now, as they picked it up to double check the birth date and validity of the card. She tapped her pen against her sketchbook until Devon handed the card back.

“Okay, Blanca,” they said, “can I getcha anything while you’re here at least?”

She pressed her lips together, squirming a bit. “I dunno. Just something fruity.”

They took one look at her stark blue hair and smirked. “I think I got just the thing for ya.”

“Alright. Thanks.” She returned to her sketching, again keeping her head down.

Devon didn’t mind quiet patrons, and sometimes it was easier that way. But she’d recognized Blanca’s name—how could she not when that name had been listed as the artist of Dethklok’s last few album covers? They desperately wanted to pick her brain, to see if she was working on something else for the band, but instead they casually slid her a Blue Hawaiian.

It took her a few moments to realize her drink had been delivered to her. But when she did, she let out a bit of a scoff. “On the nose,” she muttered.

“I can make ya something else—“

“No! No, it’s fine.” She pulled it closer to her sipping from it idly as she drew.

“Well, good.” They watched as her posture straightened a bit, the drawing becoming a bit more visible. It looked like something with horns and sunken eyes, doodles at the corners that seemed to resemble cartoony ghosts. “So it’s comin’ along?”

“Huh?”

“Your piece.” He gestured to the drawing. “Lookin’ alright to my eye.”

She scrambled to pull the sketchpad back towards her. “It’s not ready, don’t be looking at it!”

“Sorry—”

“I’m already not supposed to let too many people outside of Mordhaus see it before it’s ready, okay?” She let out a frustrated huff. “I just…wanted a change of scenery to inspire me, but I think this was a mistake. How much do I owe you?”

“Uh, Blanca—”

“You’re right, I’ll just put it on Toki’s tab.” She slid off the barstool, but not before Devon barked out a laugh.

“Oh. Toki’s tab? Why not all of Dethklok?”

At that comment, Blanca’s face turned redder than her lipstick, and she looked up at Devon while sputtering. “I—! I meant all of Dethklok. Just because I said that baboso’s name doesn’t mean anything.”

“Oh really?” They chuckled again. “You have a pet name for him, and it doesn’t mean anything?”

“What? No! It’s not a pet name. Just stop it, okay? I gotta go, just lemme pay—”

“Yo entiendo, no te preocupes. Es gratís.”

Blanca paused, squinting her eyes at Devon, placing her hand back on the barstool. “¿Habla español?”

“Un poco. Mi primera novia fue puertorriqueña. Pero creo que baboso se dice algo más, ¿no?” They smirked. “I won’t bother ya if you wanna stay, promise. Though I do also have quite a few stories of Toki actin’ a fool while he’s sloppy drunk.”

“I don’t care about that!” Blanca proclaimed as she took her seat back at the bar. “But…thanks.”

“No problem. Just make yourself comfortable—“ As they were making this standard offer, they picked up Blanca’s Blue Hawaiian. They made to hand it to her, not noticing as she picked up her sketchbook to adjust its position. In this shifting of movement, the glass knocked into Blanca’s hand, and Devon lost their grip just momentarily.

Momentarily enough for the blue cocktail to spill all over the sketchbook and Blanca’s lap. “¡Chingao!”

“Fuck— Blanca, I’m so sorry!” they cried as they grabbed their towel, pulling the liquid back towards the bar. They considered grabbing her sketchbook and trying to see if they could get that dried off too, but Blanca was frozen in fury. “Shit. I’ll get you a new sketchbook— I’ll fuckin’, I dunno, I’ll—“

“Wow,” she said, her voice quiet and shaking, but still maintaining a dry level to it. “Well. This is fuckin’ great.” She took in a deep inhale. “What was your name?

She winced. “Devon.”

Blanca slammed her wet, now-ocean-blue sketchbook on the counter. “Devon, I spent a week on that sketch. A week for Dethklok, and that was hell enough, but I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that. I’m sure you never see them when they’re drunk or angry or crazy.” She pressed her shaking hand to her forehead. “But. Fuck, y’know what? I probably would have scrapped that fuckin’ drawing when I was done. Would have thrown away a whole month’s worth of work.”

“Oh. You’re welcome?”

“Oh yeah, because getting the choice taken away from me of whether or not I’d finish it is way better.” She was still angry, still spitting sarcasm at Devon, as she stood up, grabbing cocktail napkins from over the bar to wipe across her wet lap. “I’m gonna need another drink. Or four.”

Devon let out a breathy, nervous chuckle. “Yeah. Yeah, whaddya want?”

“Just a shot of tequila.”

“Just a shot of tequila?” They chucked. “Sure you can handle it?”

“I’ve had tequila shots before.” She let out a small huff. “And I don’t think you wanna piss me off even more right now.”

“Alright, alright. You got a preference, then?”

“Silver Patrón. Straight.”

“Boring, but alright.” They grabbed the bottle, pouring two shots of tequila and sliding one to Blanca. “Enjoy,” he said, pulling his own shot glass back and grabbing a lime wedge and salt shaker.

Blanca stared at Devon curiously. “Should you be drinking on the job?”

“I always share the first tequila shot of the night.” They sprinkled a bit of salt on their hand. “Besides, I happen to know for a fact your baboso and his band are coming in later tonight, they called ahead asking to reserve the dining room. I gotta be ready.”

At that comment, Blanca’s frown turned to an expression that more closely resembled resigned acceptance. “Please don’t say anything about me in front of him,” she mumbled.

“There’s nothin’ to say, hon. Don’t worry.” She tapped her shot glass against Blanca’s before tipping it back. Blanca slammed her own empty shot glass down before Devon finished their shot, and she looked at them with a small smirk. With a laugh, he refilled her glass. “At least ya got good taste in music,” he said, gesturing to her Children of Bodom hoodie.

“I know it.” She hid her own half smile behind her second shot.

[gtlurker]

Chapter seven of inhuman! Hope this chapter I'd enjoyed because I loved writting it, bit of violence but nothing to major in this chapter, enjoy!

Chapter seven

Atlas

“There is no way in hell he just said ‘you have twenty minutes,’ then hung up.” Ronan tells me from the other side of the kitchen where he's pouring himself a glass of whiskey from the locked cabinet that I'm not allowed within ten feet of.

He started to keep a lock on the cabinet a few months ago when I stole a bottle of rum and brought it to school to try with some other kids, so it makes me a little annoyed when he offers a glass to isabelle. “Isnt she underaged?”

I ask, gesturing to miniscule girl. Isabelle chose one of my favorite dresses that i made, a simple forest green ankle length, long sleeve running dress with built in shorts. It's simple, yes, but I can certainly see why she chose it.

“She's twenty, not fifteen. If she wants some alcohol then she can have some.” Ronan responds with an eye roll, he turns back Isabelle, who shakes her head in response. “I'd rather not.” Her voice is so quiet it's basically a whisper, I can't tell if it's because she's so small her voice won't project, or if it's because she's still scared.

She spent the night here last night, and most of the house didn't get a wink of sleep. I had stayed up the whole night trying to find more information about our little guest. Isabelle just stayed up the whole night, sitting on the window sill and watching the backyard, the house is surrounded by acres of forests, but at night there's not really much to look at.

I tried to start a few conversions, but her responses were always quipped, and each time I spoke she would jump out of her skin. I don't know how she's still so awake right now after spending the whole night awake.

Ronan had asked her a few questions about her time in the lab, but she didn't really seem inclined to answer any of them. It's impossible to not stare at her, she's holding a single cheerio, and it's taking her a while to eat through it. It's almost hard to imagine that just one of something people usually eat by the hundreds is enough for Isabelle to eat.

I wonder what it would feel like to hold her, though she hasn't let me hold her yet, i've seen ronan hold her a handful of times, she clearly hates it each time and is never very willinging to be picked up, i still find myself jealous that i probably won't get the opportunity to hold her before her brother comes to get her in a few minutes.

The room is filled with an uncomfortable silence only punctuated by the sound of Ronan taking a sip from his glass.

A loud knock at the door that's more like a banging than a knocking is the only warning were given before the door bursts open, and a very angry looking damien is storming into our house, in the span of five seconds, the chain lock broke and is currently sitting on the other side of the kitchen, ronan has got to put more money into our security system.

Ronan's glass has shattered to the ground and his gun is drawn and aimed at Damien, and Damien's gun is pointed at me. Why me!? I don't even have a weapon on me, unless you count a bowl of soggy cheerios a weapon.

As Damien and Ronan start to shout over each other, both threatening to pull the trigger if the other didn't put his gun down, my gaze shifts between the two of them for a good few seconds. I really hate when I'm held at gunpoint, it's not as fun as it seems in the movies.

As the two gun wielding assholes continue their screaming match, the sight of Isabelle curled in on herself and covering her ears catches my eyes. Did neither of these idiots think that maybe screaming and pulling their guns out might hurt her ears? She's four inches tall, her ears are probably a lot more sensitive than a normal persons.

I make sure neither Damien or Ronan have their eyes on me, before I slowly reach over to gently tap on Isabelle's back. Naturally, she recoils from my touch and looks up to me, her hands still pressed tightly over her little ears.

Our eyes meet and i nod to my outstretched hand, it takes a moment before she carefully removes her hands from her ears and scoots a bit closer to my hand, i quickly look up to make sure that both of them are still distracted and watching as damiens finger get a bit closer to the trigger of the gun.

I don't understand why both of them had taken their guns out, I'm also a bit concerned that Ronan had a gun on him when I thought that we were both unarmed. How many times has he had guns on him and I was unaware, he probably sleeps with guns under his pillows for all I know, and I really don't know why Damien pulled out his gun when he broke in.

we would have let him in if had just knocked on the door, you know, like a normal fucking person. It also makes no sense why he has his gun pointed at me.

After confirming that their both still distracted i gently scoop isabelle into my hand, bringing her to my chest and cupping my second over top of her to make a small quiet space for her, it's probably still noisy for her, but it's definitely more muffled than when she was covering her ears on the table.

When the realization that i'm holding an entire life in my hand right now. Her whole entire life is in the palm of my hand, and it feels so surreal. It's almost unreal how I can feel her squirming slightly in my grip. I swallow and try not to make a sound or move a muscle so as to not scare her into making a sound. I don't want either of them to notice that I'm now holding her.

I flinch at the sudden sound of Ronan bursting out laughing and damien demanding to know what's so funny. Rona looks over to me and points at Damien with his gun, laughing harder as he tries to get the words out.

“He- he has a BB gun!”

Ronan exclaims, followed by another fit of laughter. Damien stares dumbfoundead, and looks at his gun, my eyes also slide down to his gun. He turns to the gun in his hand and looks back to me, and then at his gun. His gun in fact, is not a BB gun, it's a 3.3 Semi-automatic handgun.

Damiens brow furrowed in confusion as roman's laughter abruptly stopped, and he fired two shots at damien, one in the elbow and one hand.

Damiens shout is more out of shock than pain, he gun clatters to the floor and Ronan wastes no time grabbing it and aiming that in him as well. I can feel Isabelle trembling in my cupped hands, muttering and trying to figure out what's going on.

“Who the fuck are you?”

Ronan asks calmly, there's an anger lacing his voice that I've never heard before. When Damien's only answer is a pained grunt, Ronan fires another shot that takes Damien's pinky finger right off, Isabelle shrieks at the sound of a third shot followed by a pained cry, and I feel my dinner rise to my throat at the bloody sight.

“I said, who. The fuck. Are you?!”

Ronan shouts again, and I quickly realize he has no idea who Damien is. I make a dash for the door as damien starts to shout who he is and what he's here for, i hold isabelle tight to my chest, and the sound of two guns clanking against the floor is the last thing i hear before i shut the door to my bedroom and open my hand to see isabelle.

she's been crying the whole time from the look on her face, so i set her down to not further overwhelm her. “Was, was that my brother?” she asks, and i nod, deciding to be honest.

“Why did he have a gun?!”

“I don't know.”

“Was he shot?”

“Yes. in the arm.”

“Will he die?!”

“No.”

Never mind being honest, she is not in the right mindset for hearing the truth. The truth is I don't know if he'll survive those bullet wounds, I don't hear any more gunshots or shouting, so I'm assuming they've started to get along.

Isabelle and I stayed in my room for another hour. She gets changed into a set of pajamas I sewn two weeks back, a pink pair of pajama pants and an ill fitting pastel yellow shirt to pair with it.

When I'm confident that they've dealt with all the blood and started to calm down, I take Isabelle and slowly creak open the door.

Ignore the question part I clicked it by accident and don't know how to remove it, so just enjoy a little pole lmao

ANYWAY hope you enjoyed this chapter, Ronan forgetting the face of his own client is honestly so real

[newtonsheffield]

Another ACUPOP prompt - Can we get a glimpse at either Kate or Anthony having to discipline Neddy? Is he just an extremely well-behaved boy? That worries me a bit because those are the kids who are plagued by perfectionism. I would love to see a moment of him feeling secure enough to push some boundaries with his parents, with some gentle guidance back.

I mean, generally, Neddy is a super well-behaved kid, and I think at least at first, Neddy would be super worried about pushing any boundaries, especially with Anthony who he doesn't know as well as his Mum.

But eventually, sure, he's a teenager, and he's going to try out different things, because that's what teenagers do.

And imagine the first time Neddy comes home from a party at 16 and he's a little bit tipsy.

"Mummy!"

Kate startled at the sound of her son's deep voice and the slam of the front door and she bit back a laugh already at the sound of his fumbling footsteps and the mutter of When did we get a coat stand? glancing at Anthony who chuckled lightly.

"I'm in here, Neddy." She called back, muttering to Anthony, "This should be interesting."

"There you are!" His eyes were a little unfocused and he slumped against the door of the living room, his hair sticking up in twenty different directions and he looked so much like Anthony had when they'd been young and stupid and hopping from bar to bar in fiji, newly married that she nearly did a double take.

"Hey, Sweetheart. How was the party?"

"And my Dad's here too!" Neddy crowed, "Look at my Dad!"

Anthony chuckled as Neddy stumbled towards them, flopping onto the sofa between them. "Look, it's my son."

"Did you, by any chance, have a few drinks tonight, Neddy?" Kate sighed, kissing his temple.

Neddy hummed, "I maybe had... one beer."

"One beer?" Anthony chuckled, "Sorry mate, you might be a lightweight."

"So maybe it was three?" He sighed, "But there was a girl there, and she was really pretty and I was nervous and I thought that would make it easier to talk to her, but it just made my head feel really fuzzy and I think I lost my wallet."

Kate's heart pounded for a moment, "How did you get home?"

"I think Dave drove me?" He said vaguely, "I dunno."

"Bed time, I think." Anthony said quickly, sensing Kate's panic, "Do you need me to help you up the stairs?"

Edmund sighed, "I think so. my legs don't work."

Anthony sighed and hauled his nearly six-foot son to a Standing position, half carrying him up the stairs and Kate tried not to think about it.

Edmund looked pale when he came downstairs the next morning, dark circles under his eyes and winced when Miles screeched Neddy! at the top of his lungs banging his fists on the counter.

"Hey, Milo."

Kate looked up at her son, sliding a glass of orange juice across the counter towards him followed by some painkillers. "Big night I hear."

Neddy flinched, staring down at the kitchen bench refusing to look at either Kate or Anthony beside him and it was that more than anything that made Kate's stomach churn.

"Sorry." He finally whispered, his shoulders heaving. "I'm really sorry. I shouldn't have been drinking and I know that this reflects really badly on you Dad and-"

"Neddy," Anthony said firmly, his hand on his son's shoulder. "Mum and I aren't upset about that, and I don't want you to ever make choices based on how you think ti reflects on me okay?"

Their son glanced furtively up at them, his brow furrowed, "But I was..."

"We're upset because we just want you to be safe." Kate cleared her throat, pushing down the panic, "You're a kid, and kids make mistakes and try things out and that's fine but you know, if you're in trouble: you can call either of us right? Or any of your aunts and uncles and we'll just come and get you."

Edmund nodded, letting out a sigh of relief before he winced again, "I really did lose my wallet though."

Kate rolled her eyes, "You didn't actually. I found it in the flowerpot out the front when I went to walk Newton this morning. I would like to discuss the condom you rolled onto the front gate though."

And it shouldn't have been so satisfying but when he spluttered and slipped off his stool: it really was very funny