#he’s like an itch that comes back at the most inconvenient time

[lethalchiralium]

for any DS readers,

i think i have a couple higgs fics left before i fell down the COD rabbit hole. i’m still willing to write for him, i’m not sure if i post anything new you guys would read it.

anyway, higgs fic on the horizon

[moon7jay]

Pent up (l.hs, p.sh)

Read pt.2 here

Warnings : Non con, dub con(?), morally grey plot obviously (what do u even expect from me), filth, smut

Heeseung could feel the familiar itch in his chest and palms... and somewhere else. Well his dick to be precise.

He was horny. Inexplicably and utterly horny. could you blame him? His fanbase was majorly comprised of females. Hot females. But they weren't allowed to mingle with fans and that heightened his yearning more. Like craving the taste of a forbidden fruit.

He rubbed an exasperating hand over his sweaty face, breathing heavily through his nose to get in as much oxygen as he could, the testosterone was high in the hotel room, everyone still riding the adrenaline rush from the concert even though it had been done and over an hour ago. The tension was high in their bodies still and he could feel himself buzzing with it.

He knew it was practically impossible to get pussy at this hour, especially with the whole NDA thing and it agitated him further. His balls were heavy and in a desperate need to be drained empty by a tight warm pussy or mouth, he didn't even care, he just needed release.

He mentally thanked God for being the oldest and having the solo room privileges cuz it seemed like hardcore porn and his hand would have to do for the night. He was so ready to jerk off till his dick ached.

"Gonna head to my room" he informed Jay, who was sitting beside him on the spacious couch, just in case their manager started panicking upon not finding him with the rest of the boys.

Jay gave him a quick nod of acknowledgement and went back to whatever he was doing on his phone. Probably texting his girlfriend. That lucky fucker, heeseung thought. Jay's girlfriend was hot, heeseung had checked her out shamelessly on multiple occasions, even tried to get into her personal space a lot of times until Jay strictly told him to back off. Well, his bad, but what could he do? He was just a man who thought with his dick most of the time.

You heard him before you saw him, the sudden click of the door opening startling you enough to make you jump and turn around towards it. With the air freshener still in your hands, you came face to face with the most gorgeous man you had ever seen.

First thing you noticed about him was how tall he was, looking down at you even from a distance. His messy hairs fell over his forehead , his entire body clad in a casual black shirt and sweats attire. You gulped cuz this wasn't a part of the job. You were told to ready up the rooms for some very important people who would be staying at the hotel tonight but no one was supposed to be here for another hour or two. or maybe you messed up the timings again. Oh you were fucked.

The gorgeous man raised an amused eyebrow at your deer caught in the headlights stance and that's what finally made you break out of your inner monologue and you bowed to him, body on autopilot to do damage control

"I'm so sorry for the inconvenience sir, i wasn't aware you would get here this fast, I just need to fix the bed and I'll be done" you stuttered out, hoping a quick apology would be enough and turned back around to quickly fix the sheets, spraying the freshening spray around, hoping you won't be reported to the manager for this blunder.

What you failed to notice in your inner panic was how heeseung turned the lock of the door, setting the bolt in place, basically locking you in the room with him.

You didn't notice how his eyes scanned your figure while you apologized to him, or how his blood ran hot when the word "sir" came out from between those tempting, glossed lips of yours.

You didn't notice how his eyes ran shamelessly over your exposed legs, his tongue coming out to wet his lower lip while he ogled the curve of your ass as you bent over to fix the bed sheets.

Damn, heeseung thought, his dick twitching in interest, already leaking in his pants with how excited he was becoming at the sight of you.

You jumped upon feeling two large palms grabbing your sides, a squeak falling from your lips at the unwelcome touch

"What the fuck" was the first thing that came out of your mouth, caught too off gaurd to even react properly.

You tried to turn around to push him away but before you could even move he was twisting your body, manhandling you onto the bed. Your mouth opened to scream but a large palm stopped your attempt, your eyes widened in terror upon feeling his large body settle over yours, one tight grip on both of your wrists, trapping your hands above your head while his hand covered your mouth.

Heeseung was ecstatic, he could feel how soft you were against his hard body,your tiny figure squirming underneath his harsh hold, wide scared eyes staring up at him through wet lashes, he wanted to coo, you looked so adorable like this. Just ready to be fucked.

"You know I could easily get you fired sweetheart, just don't fight this" He threatened subtly, his calm voice oddly did the trick and you halted your struggling body.

You were a broke college student barely making ends meet. Your younger siblings depended on you for everything and so just the thought of getting fired was enough to chill your bones. That just wasn't something that you could afford. Tears flowed down your cheeks but you complied. Accepting your fate.

His eyes pivoted to your heaving chest, the open button at the top of your dress shirt giving him a peak of your perky mounds, driving him crazy with his rising lust for your body.

"Going to remove my hand but only if you'll be a good girl" he whispered, his hot breath fanned your face and you nodded too enthusiastically, making him chuckle and remove his hold on your mouth. His hand instantly moved to unbutton your shirt, making you sniffle into yourself. You closed your eyes in disgust, not wanting to see what was happening to your body, a sharp gasp leaving your lips when his rough hand squeezed your chest harshly.

An excited "fuck" fell from his lips upon feeling your soft tits, hardening him further in his pants. He duck down to run his nose along your clavicle, breathing you in while he groped the sensitive flesh of your boobs mercilessly. He traced the length of your neck and jaw, leaving small kisses and bites, eventually coming face to face with you.

"Open your pretty eyes I want you to see me do this to you" he whispered on your lips, taking the bottom one between his teeth. His nails dug into your mounds when you didn't listen, making you cry out in pain and giving into his wishes.

Your tear strained eyes looked into his lust blown hazy ones, watching how he suckled on your bottom lip, opening your mouth pliantly when he thrust his tongue into your mouth, licking and sucking, lewd noises coming from him at the taste of your tongue.

Heeseung was painfully hard. And as much as he wanted to take his time exploring your body, he was too fucking impatient to do so. His dick was weeping to get inside your warm fuck hole and he was not going to deprive himself of the much needed relief of your body any longer.

He moaned into your mouth, licking deeper while his hand travelled down between your legs, moving under your dress skirt to probe at your pussy from above your panties, making you gasp into his hungry mouth. That breathless gasp and the feel of your cunt was what did him in.

Removing himself from your body he climbed down the bed while you watched him petrified. Nerves frozen in anticipation of his next move.

"Take off your panties" He instructed you while he undressed his lower half, hastily taking off his sweats and boxers, exposing his hard and leaking dick to your terrified eyes.

You sobbed, your thighs closing upon the sight of his member, it was so big and you could already imagine the pain it was going to put you in. You saw how his jaw clenched at your lack of action, sharp and annoyed eyes staring daggers at your face

"we can both enjoy this if you don't fight me baby, or I can enjoy this alone I don't fucking mind it either way" He gritted through his teeth, climbing back on top of you. Before he could reach for your clothes your small hands were stopping him, sniffing softly as you took a good look at him. His inquisitive eyes watched you impatiently.

"O-okay" You whispered and slowly reached down to take off your panties, opening your legs for him. A weird tingling feeling was starting to build up in between your legs upon seeing his leaking length. Maybe it was the fact that you hadn't gotten laid in a while or maybe you were a freak but you could feel the moisture starting to accumulate in your pussy.

He bit his lower lip upon seeing you so pliant and ready to take him. God he needed to fuck the shit out of you. "That's a good fucking girl" he whispered.

He didn't wait any longer to aim his cock at your entrance, parting your pussy lips and breaching the opening of your cunt, a pained moan leaving your lips while he groaned in satisfaction at the feeling of your snug walls.

Your hands held onto his shoulders, your back arching at the feeling of him forcing himself inside of you so roughly, burying himself in your womb to the hilt.

"fuck yeah baby" He groaned upon feeling his balls slap your asscheeks, finally fitting his entire dick inside your warm and tight pussy.

He didn't give you time to adjust, his hips moving on pure animal instinct to fuck. You screamed in pain at his brutal movements but the constant bumping of his dick into your cervix was making your eyes roll back into your head.

His hips moved against yours roughly, pelvic smacking sounds filling up your senses. Heeseung's mind was focused on the singular thought of your pussy, brows furrowed and mouth open as he moved his dick in and out of you, enjoying the tight clench of your walls, giving him so much pleasure his entire body was on fire

"your cunt is making me feel so good" he panted on your face, his movements never ceasing, you could feel every drag of his veiny cock against your gummy walls, making you moan in pure pleasure

"You're getting wetter the more we fuck baby" He chuckled through strained voice, hoisting your legs over his shoulders, taking you deeper, penetrating his cock way past your womb.

Your nails dug into his shoulders, moaning helplessly as he grinded his lower body into yours, your colliding sexes making a mess now that you were leaking onto the sheets

"That's right-fuck-enjoy it with me, a little fun never hurt anybody" He grunted, increasing his pace, desperately chasing the friction your pussy was giving him

"Oh my god-" you screamed when he continued to beat your insides raw, bumping continuously against your g spot.

"Yeah? feels good doesn't it baby? giving it to you so good yeah?" he spoke, his thrusts merciless. Railing you into the bed.

Your hips chased his own, opening your legs further for him, enjoying the sex more than you were supposed to. If this was happening to you, you might as well enjoy it right?

Your lips attached themselves to his throat and he moaned, lust blown eyes staring down at you

"You are getting off to this you little fucking slut, fuck yeah " He spat at you in disgust but the twitch of his dick inside your womb didn't go unnoticed by you.

"You like when men force themselves inside your slutty little cunt yeah? makes you feel so good doesn't it baby?" His words only made you wetter, your juices leaking onto his balls.

He was busy pounding you into the sheets, the bed creaking loudly, skin slapping sounds so deafening you didn't hear the lock jingling and the door opening.

"Mhmm fuck, busy enjoying alone?" a manly voice interrupted your pleasure filled haze, your eyes darting to the side as a tall and even more gorgeous figure came in your field of vision. His eyes were focused on you and how heeseung was railing you.

Even though you wanted to hide away from his gaze, the lust filled phase your mind was in was turning you on more.

Heeseung didn't cease his movements, smirking at the spare key in sunghoon's hand, he sighed in pleasure at the way your pussy was clenching rapidly around his dick, excited at the prospect of someone watching you fuck

"little slut, she likes that you're here" he panted, folding your body in half and fastening his hips, feeling the knot in his stomach tighten.

"fuck keep clenching on me baby, I'm so fucking close" He groaned, his movements incessant, holding your hips and moving rapidly against you, harsh breaths fell from his lips, eyes focused on yours. He slotted his mouth against yours and moaned out loud, his hips stilling inside you while he filled you with his fuck cream,moaning in satisfaction.

His subtle grinds were frustrating you, needing more friction to reach your own high. Heeseung felt your hips pushing up from the bed to chase his dick and chuckled in disbelief

"you want more dick?" he asked pulling out of you with a pop and watching his thick cum leak out of your hole. You nodded, your hand moving down to circle on your clit, arching into your own touch like a literal sex hungry slut.

"fuck that's hot" sunghoon groaned and your eyes moved to him, his hand squeezed his bulge from above his pants while he watched your movements with hungry eyes. In your sex drunk haze you had forgotten he was even there. You opened your legs further, showing him what you were doing.

"You can stick it inside of her you know, bet she wants it bad" heeseung taunted at him, climbing down the bed and taking a seat on the couch across from it.

Sunghoon was scurrying to unzip his pants as soon as he understood the meaning of heeseung's words and before you knew he was settling over your body, rubbing his dick against your slit, making you bite your lower lip in anticipation of getting dicked down again.

"Where did you even find her, I thought we weren't supposed to fuck fans" He asked looking over at heeseung briefly before pushing himself inside you with a pained groan. You screamed at the sudden penetration, body squirming.

"so fucking tight" he let out through gritted teeth, snapping his hips into yours impatiently.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and arched your body into him. God he was so much bigger than heeseung, your pussy felt so full, you could already feel your high approaching.

"She's not a fan" heeseung groaned gruffly, making you glance over at him, your pussy clenched crazily upon seeing how he sat manspreading on the couch, his dick in his palm, jerking off while he watched you.

Sunghoon didn't question him further, at this point he couldn't care less about who you were, he just wanted to fuck your pussy and that's all that mattered to him.

His hands moved down to help you wrap your legs around his waist and he started thrusting inside of you, a pleasurable groan leaving him upon feeling your wet snatch

"warm and wet, she's like every guy's fucking wet dream" He grunted, his hips snapping rapidly into yours, fucking his dick into your fuck hole in a frenzy. He wasn't going to last long.

"she is isn't she, fucking slut, fuck her pussy , beat it till it's red and raw" Heeseung panted through gritted teeth, his movements fastening on his dick, squeezing his balls and sighing in the overwhelming pleasure.

"fuck yeah" sunghoon groaned and adjusted his hips to reach inside you deeper, making you moan in pleasure, incoherent words falling from your lips, you could taste your orgasm on the the tip of your tongue. "Such good pussy fuck yeah you should get paid for it" He chuckled breathlessly and you moaned at his words. No one had ever talked to you this way.

Your hips chased his dick desperately, fucking yourself back on him

"Yeah you like this don't you? - holy shit-like when men use your tight little cunt to jerk off their dicks don't u baby?" sunghoon panted on your face and you moaned, nodding your head while he pounded you into the sheets

"Cum In her hoon, fill that filthy pussy to the brim" heeseung moaned, his hips lifting off the couch as he watched your grinding bodies fucking like animals on the bed. Hot pleasure was running through his viens and he could feel himself close to another release.

"Shit yeah, so good, feels so good, yeah mhmmnfuck" sunghoon rambled burying his nose into the crook of your neck as his hips grinded into yours, feeling so close, so close, so-

A gutteral moan ripped from his throat and he was coming undone inside of your cunt,the feeling of his warm cum pushing you over the edge, moans and groans filling up the room

"fuck, fuck, fuck ugh God" Heeseung gasped, spilling his cum all over his hand and thighs, his stomach clenching and caving upon feeling such mind numbing pleasure.

Sunghoon's body fell upon yours, grinding a few times to properly fill you with his cum and then he was pulling out of your abused cunt. Groaning upon seeing the mess you were making on the sheets.

Your head lulled to the side in exhaustion, body so sore and mind so numb that you didn't even notice the flash going off as sunghoon captured the sight of your leaking pussy on his phone, saving it in his jerk off folder. He was quick to adjust his dick inside his pants and climb down the bed

"thanks man I needed that" He said and winked at heeseung. Heeseung nodded at him and watched as he left the room fully satisfied. His eyes fell on your spent and naked figure on the bed and he could feel his dick twitch in interest again. Fuck.

Before he could decide against it, he was picking up his phone and dialing jake's number

"Hello?" came jake's muffled voice from the speaker

"Come over to my room and bring Jay with you, I've got the perfect thing for you to relieve the pent up tension"

"Is it your ps5? Because I don't-

"It's a pussy"

Heeseung smiled upon hearing the instant scurrying he could hear over the speaker and he faintly heard jake calling jay's name before he hung up on him.

The night was going to be so so long.

[wakeup01]

buttslut

If you had asked Dante whether he would ever bottom, 1, he would probably punch you. And 2, he would insist that topping gays was just something 100% straight men like him did. And he’d say it with…well, with a ‘straight’ face. It was a display of superiority and power, an act to show people their place. He wouldn’t be seen dead bent over, presenting his rear. The mere idea disgusted him, a fact he made very clear when loudly talking to his recently made friend, Cris, inside the local inclusive night club.

An unlikely friendship that only came about from bumping into each other while Dante was taking selfies in the college bathrooms. Something of a regular past time, as Cris quickly learned. Even in a public place, Dante didn’t miss the opportunity to admire his own body, smirking as several gay guys around him turned to get a glimpse. Maybe that was the only real reason he agreed to come along. Then again, he was capable of being kindhearted, in his own special way.

“You see those pathetic ‘guys’ earlier? Practically begging to be shown what a real man can do.” Dante commented, chugging down the rest of his beer. Blatantly ignoring the warning hanging on the wall which stated ‘discrimination will not be tolerated’. Yes. Kind. In his *own* special way. “You get me?”

“Uh huh...” Cris sheepishly replied, trying to hold back a wince. Looking down with disappointment, his eyes tearing up slightly. Now definitely wasn’t a good time to reveal that he was actually trans. Maybe when the sun was about to implode, yes, that seemed like a more appropriate occasion.

Dante was a somewhat typical douchebag jock in most respects, keen to display his dominance and superior body to anyone with a hole to fill. A fuckstick with a guy - rather inconveniently, attached. Dante pushed out his perfectly sculpted chest and flexed his rippling muscles while he made his openly deriding remarks as a group passed him by. Deliberately yelling over the obnoxious club song that was blaring overhead. Cris merely laughed nervously, ashamed to admit his infatuation with Dante’s body - adjusting his trousers as his dick unconsciously rose to attention at Dante’s confident voice.

“Christ, your drink looks kinda fruity. You should try some of mine.” He lifts a glass and holds it out.

“Maybe later, do you want to go dance? I kinda dig this Charli…song.” Cris’ voice peters out at the expression shot in their direction. “Maybe not, huh.”

Unfortunately for Dante, the patrons and staff weren’t too keen on his ‘colourful’ choice of words, especially when starting to talk about ‘butt sluts’, as he put it. A bit of glitter blown in his direction was all that was needed to kickstart a change in perspective. Cris watched with wide eyes as he witnessed his toxic crush’s language and demeanour gradually adjust in front of him.

Dante attempted to brush away the glitter that somwhow got all over him. “The fu—fudge is this gay shi—shizzle!” Instead he only managed to spread it everywhere, speeding up the adjustments. Dante took another sip of beer and scrunched his nose up at the taste, pushing the drink aside. His stiff and once proud stature grew limp, hips swaying to the rhythm of the club music. The plethora of swears and insults softened into a series of enthusiastic lisps and giggles. His deep voice changing pitch one word at a time. “This soOOoong s—slaps, like, a totes banger!” Dante shouts out, to his friends amusement.

“But I thought you hated this—“

“Uhhhh, as if!” Dante’s whiney intonation quickly interjects, somewhat unbefitting of the muscled body it came from, his defined pecs still pushing out against the thin fabric of his tank top.

A warm insatiable itch caused Dante to absently remove his top and shorts, revealing a jockstrap cupping his bubbly rear - which quickly doubled in mass as it comically splayed out beneath him. A result of the rainbow glitter sticking to his sweaty body. The rest of him remained built like a tank, wide shoulders and thick thighs. A meaty chest glistening under the flickering lights of the club. He was so hot, but not just in appearance. The drunken stupor had fully gripped his easily manipulated mind. Everything around him suddenly seemed soo funny.

“Gawd, my butt’s, like, pretty big. Weird. Heehee.” Dante points out, turning slightly to show Cris, causing his cheeks to wobble. “Do girls even want big butts on guys?”

“Well…I…” Cris stammers, blushing bright red at the image of his ultra masculine friend shaking his butt while effeminately biting his lip.

“Like suuuper big and…” Internally Dante was unaware of his out of character behaviour, unquestioning as his brutish dominance was purged, replaced by adorably bratty submissiveness. He was the same old Dante deep down, just…happier. And sluttier. His body unconsciously began to gyrate to the heavy bass throbbing in his head. All he noticed was the growing need centred around his tight hole. His fingers cautiously touched the jiggly mound of flesh weighing him down from behind. Dante’s eyes filled with lust as he stared at his friend Cris, noting the sight of him and all the other hot men around him. A pleasurable sigh escapes his pursed lips.

“Big and…empty.”

A couple minutes of character growth later, members of staff arrived to offer Dante ‘vip status’ at the club. A program they had setup to deal with any ‘troublemakers’. Dante didn’t mind however, and agreed instantly. Cris followed as he got directed out the back door towards his new station, taking his position as a public relief hole. Leaning against the wall as the cool night air brushed against his bare skin. All the while he was incapable of keeping his hands off his rear, feeling it up without a second thought as onlookers watched. Dante simply nodded along dimly while the club’s manager explained that he was about to be fucked and used repeatedly to atone for his remarks. That once he has filled his quota, he and his twerkable bubble butt would become the club’s next permanent dancer.

Dante smiles and says “mmkay” while pushing his hands against the wall and widening his legs - staring blankly ahead. “Like this?” There was a little sign above his head that simply read ‘hole’ with an arrow pointing down. Just in case it wasn’t clear.

Cris made sure he was first in line to try out the new resident ‘butt slut’. He positions himself behind Dante, and struggles to hold back a laugh at the sight of the once bigoted jock willingly preparing to get dicked. He definitely liked him a lot more like this - the same muscled physique, but without the crude superiority complex. Their friendship was sure to hit new heights.

“Ready? Let me show you what a ‘real man’ can do.” Cris says with a newfound sense of confidence. Playfully, he spins Dante’s baseball cap around and places his hands across the himbo’s rear, parting his huge round cheeks to show off the cherry he was about to pop - before the rest of the club would inevitably leave him gaping.

“Mm.” Is all Dante can muster before Cris’s cock forcefully stretches him open and leaves him moaning like the natural cock hungry bottom he now was. “Don’t—don’t stawwwp babe!”

[wilteddreamsofbaldursgate]

Thinking about Astarion having to deal with his reclaimed mortality once the initial euphoria of it is wearing off: 

When he’s startled from sleep, woken by his own racing heartbeat. 

Him jumping at the movement in the corner of his eye, only to find it’s just his own reflection staring right back at him, puzzled, before he watches his cheeks redden with embarrassment. 

The sun slowly losing its appeal as time goes on because Astarion keeps getting nasty sunburns after days spent outside, trying to make up for centuries confined to darkness. Whenever he comes home with itching skin and drenched in sweat, he finds himself almost missing hiding in the shadows. 

The odd sensation of feeling more and less at the same time: while some of his senses are now dulled to better suit mortality, others feel heightened to the point of sensory overload—a gust of wind feels like fire licking at his skin and he gets so very anxious whenever he loses Tav in the crowd, unable to distinguish them by the once divine scent of their blood any longer. 

Since he has a reliant supply of his own blood pumping through his veins now, he’s feeling aroused so much easier and more often than not at quite inconvenient times. He enjoyed having sex with Tav before, but now that he’s mortal again, he finds that he’s having to overthink intimacy once again—where his desires used to be driven by burning hunger, lust now feels like a pleasant, more natural bodily reaction. Having to seriously consider contraceptive measures, should his partner be able to get pregnant, is also a rather novel experience for him.  

Bathing still feels as good as before, at least. But where he spent hours in the bathroom out of pointless vanity then, Astarion now has to wash himself because his body would stink of sweat and, well, life otherwise. It will be years before he openly excuses himself for having to use the bathroom whenever nature calls.

And food—food would be the hardest to adjust to. It takes a lot of trial and error to find something that pleases his virgin taste buds (although he swears there’re some odd pieces of memories flashing in front of his eyes whenever he's snacking on wild strawberries or awfully sweet citron tarts). He ends up acquiring a taste for raw cookie dough, shredded cheese and sardines, eating little else for the next two years or so. To everyone's astonishment, he's gotten food poisoning only once or twice.

Astarion is no stranger to pain or injury, but he’s appalled by how long it takes to recover from the most minor cuts and bruises. It’s a well-kept secret between him and Tav that his first common cold had him convinced he was dying for a fortnight straight. 

Crying is much easier now, too.

Ironically, it’s mortality that forces Astarion to strive for more permanent, detail-oriented plans for the future. Now that life is finite, he wants to use the time he has wisely. He might keep travelling the realms until he breathes his last, or settle down, eventually. He might learn a new profession or accumulate some wealth in less honest ways. Maybe, one day, he wants to have a family, heirs to whatever he decides to make his own. 

Once Astarion has come to terms with being a mortal elf again, he realises living is not just about a beating heart. Living is about having endless possibilities but limited time. Choices and decisions that lead to only one thing: death. 

Now that Astarion is living again, he finally understands that death is just another part of the journey.

[gilverrwrites]

Coming Out of Retirement

Reader/Bruce Wayne Ft. Almost all of the BatFam. (Sorry Alfred) Reader is an ex-con who has renounced their life of crime and settled down as a stay-at-home parent and trophy partner, until the itch to get back on the streets re-emerges. To celebrate this new found life of heroism, their BatFamily arranges a suprise.

3.1K Words CWs: Mainly fluff, but, non descript mentions of sex (implied dom Bruce), mild arguing, competition, self-doubt, public kissing. Limelight. A singular batarang may or may not get thrown. It might have been Daman.

Adorning your name with the suffix ‘-Wayne’ has done wonders for your image. Rarely were you billed as a criminal in the media, very few events failed to send you an invitation, people who would previously have shunned you in the streets now unsubtly eager to get into or stay in the billionaire families’ good graces. It did not, however, fully erase your criminal past. The extensive list of felonies that came with the rest of your name meant that few people were willing to take a chance on hiring you. When you’d told your husband, Bruce that after months of searching, your only legitimate job offers were loading crates at the docks or sweeping floors at a high school he’d baulked. Those were perfectly fine jobs, vital even, but not particularly fitting for the meticulously curated image the Waynes had carved out over centuries.

Instead, he’s found you a job at Wayne Enterprises, and by found, you mean made-up a job, something to do with analysis and CAPEX, fancy words for sitting behind a desk, a desk that made your skin crawl. Truth is, no job would have scratched the itch you were trying to scratch. A day job was simply the compromise you’d come to with your husband. What you’d really wanted was to get back out onto the streets, not to commit crimes, but to stop them. Bruce didn’t like the idea, citing that it would be emotionally challenging for you to fight against your former allies and friends. Additionally, civilians wouldn’t trust you. You’d argued that those issues would improve with practice and time. That your skills were wasted being a stay-at-home parent and trophy partner, and he knew it, he always knew when you were right, he just hated to admit it. So, you’d come to the mutual agreement that you would work a ‘normal job’, and if, after 6 months had passed, you were still aching to get back in the game, then and only then would he approve.

From there it became a bit of an unspoken game between you. He kept your body and mind as occupied as possible, hoping to keep you distracted. Nights off from patrolling were spent in bed with you, bending and stretching and everything else-ing your body to his will for as long as his near infinite stamina could manage. He’s named you as the primary point of contact for Damian’s school, which had you driving to and from the academy to deal with his many infractions on what felt like a daily basis. If that wasn’t inconvenient enough, it also put you behind on the ungodly amount of paperwork he had sent to your desk each morning.

That didn’t stop you. Instead, you found ways around it. Your early morning runs were really combat and target training with Jason. Your fortnightly visits with your eldest, Dick, really were check-in, as wells as a chance to practice patrolling on the streets of Blüdhaven. Even Babs had loaned you a few updated gadgets for your dusty old utility belt. Tim had given you back-door access to most of the files on the bat-computer, and you spent your lunch hour reading up on the who’s who of Gotham’s current criminal underground between rushed mouthfuls of protein-heavy salads and coffee. Some faces you knew, had been on a first-name basis with, others were complete strangers, indicators that you’d been out of the game too long.

It was funny when you thought about it, even in marriage you were still finding ways to thwart each-other.

Bruce knew all of this, of course, he wasn’t the world's greatest detective for nothing, but he kept it to himself. The same way you kept his tactics to obstruct your plans quiet.

Until today. A sleepy Sunday morning in which Jason had kept you training for twice as long as usual, before joining you for the walk home, chatting your ear off about the things he’d noticed in his latest re-read of Pride and Prejudice, right up until you’d made it inside where a note had been left for you on the fridge. The words ‘CAVE ASAP’ had been scrawled on it in Bruce's handwriting.

When you’d shown it to Jay he’s just shrugged and followed you to the entrance. You might have been concerned, had you not known that today was the six-month anniversary of your deal, the closing date. You were concerned, however, when you were met with 6 smiling faces awaiting you, 7 if you include Jason, 8 if you include Bruce's nonsmiling face.

“What is this?” You query. “Whose watching the city?”

“Don’t worry, I’ve enlisted a couple of friends to keep an eye on Gotham, they’ll signal us if anything comes up that they can’t handle.”

Something feels different, something other than the unusually large crowd. Your eyes scan the room until they land on a new instalment to the cave, four glass cases, holding four suits that seemed both completely new, but somehow familiar.

“That’s good, but you didn’t answer my first question.” You finally respond to Bruce, pointing to the pods to indicate that you now require further clarification.

“It’s been six months since we made our deal, and it has become abundantly clear that there is no derailing you from getting what you want.”

“Which is one of the many reasons you married me~” His straight face breaks at your jest.

“Is this how they always flirt?” “This is tame, you don’t want to see their real flirting.” “Shhhhh.” Muffled voices whisper amongst the cluster of children, and you’re admittedly impressed it took this long for any of them to say something.

“This is by no means a full sign-off.” Bruce continues, “There will be rigorous tests for you to pass before it becomes official- ”

“Don’t worry, it’s not personal.” Dick butts in, and you're grateful for the reassurance. You’d been concerned that your villainous past might make you subject to extra scrutiny, even if you’d clearly proven yourself reformed many times over. “We all had to go through the testing phase.”

“Yeah, some of us did better than others.” Tim's statement is clearly directed at Steph who responds with an unamused glare.

“Yes.” The budding conversation is stifled by Bruce for that singular word before everybody bursts out with a chorus of “WELCOME TO THE TEAM!”

From there you’re rallied into a seemingly never-ending parade of hugs, each accompanied by some form of “congratulations”; “Knew you’d win out.” “You got this!” “You thought he kept you busy before, good luck.”

It was Barbara who finally informed you what the suits were. “We wanted to surprise you with an updated suit, but none of us could agree on one design.”

“So, we split into teams and made our own.” Duke finished.

Your celebratory lap quickly descended into a clash from there. Each team trying to point out their own design, to get you to look at theirs first, to try them on. You knew each of them loved you in their own way, but you hadn’t quite got the knack of demanding respect in the same way Bruce had. He could silence their quarrelling with a well-timed look. You had to shout above them to be heard, but your voice reached their ears in waves of twos and threes, eventually, they all settled. Finding spots to sit or lean on as they watched and waited for your next move.

“How about I go through them each, one at a time, left to right?” A sea of heads nod back at you. “Great, whose is this first one?”

“Mine.” “Ours.”

Damian has a strong personality, self-assured, sharp. You love those parts of him, many don’t. Tim included. With time, they’d grown on each other, formed a brotherly bond, if anything due to the forced proximity, but their relationship was still strained at times. Damian hadn’t killed Tim, but that didn’t alleviate all of the tension between them, so it meant the world that they’d shelved their issues long enough to do something nice, even if the end result wasn’t exactly, your style. It was cool, no doubt about it, but it was certainly a ‘Robin’ suit. Primarily red, with a green cape, a lot of built-in gadgets you’d never seen before, and “Are these knuckle dusters?”

“Yes, made with steel, much like your old ones but these are coated in a gold alloy.” Damian informs you. It doesn’t go amiss that they seem to match the gold pieces from his own costume.

“We know you don’t really like capes, so it’s detachable,” Tim interjects, pointing at different pieces and areas of the gear, anyone could tell he was in his element, one of many. “The left glove has a built-in dispenser for pellets, and the right glove has a travel-size holographic computer that’s connected to the mainframe. Think of it like a smartphone but for comms and information only.”

“Yeah, Bruce doesn’t like it when we use it to watch TikTok.” Duke jokes, and is rewarded with a few cautious laughs.

“Wow!” You smile, fiddling with the edge of the forest green gloves in question. “This is all so advanced. I- ”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, blah blah blah!” Steph's voice cuts in before you can thank your Robins. You can tell she’s excited by the way she bounces on her toes, Barbara right behind her, both grinning, both ignoring Damian's stink eye. You can forgive them, you always do. “Us next!”

“The gadgets are all updated versions of the stuff I loaned you for Blüdhaven, I’ve been tracking the way you use them, and based on the feedback I’ve removed the features you didn’t use much and refocused the excess power on ramping up the stuff you do use.” Barbara tells you through the door as you change.

The girls had really hit the nail on the head in the style department, and you had to applaud yourself for that one really. The girls hadn’t just taken inspiration from your previous get-up, they’d seemingly taken the very blueprints and modernised it. The silhouette was identical, right down to the patched-up adjustable waist you’d had to add due to your fluctuating diet whilst in and out of Blackgate. Only now, everything was made from black reinforced leather with matte panelling. Pops of your signature colour reflected in the stitching as well as the gloves, utility belt, and a pair of shiny docs.

This is incredible, you refrain from saying, careful not to spark any more flames in what was clearly already a competition. “This is nearly identical to my old suits; how did you manage it?”

“Bruce had one of your old suits tucked away in the trophy room,” Steph informs you, shooting Bruce a smug look, in response he remains still, face completely unmoving. “He thought we wouldn’t find it, but we did.”

You don’t focus much on how or why he had it. It was likely ‘borrowed’ from a GCPD evidence locker, brought here so he could study it, help him better understand an adversary. But you did wonder why he’d kept it for so long. When you cast him a curious glance, he stares back at you, sporting the same poker-faced expression he’s given Steph.   

Your lips part, ready to ask but a voice interrupts, Damian; “It’s unoriginal.”

“Yeah.” Tim agrees. “And old fashioned.”

For a moment you’re offended, considering that it’s based on your own design.

“At least they didn’t make a Robin suit.” Jason jumps in, possibly to defend, probably to stir the pot.

“That’s enough.” You declare, holding your hands to garner attention. “They’re both great, in their own ways, now whose next?”

It’s obvious whose next, if the sequins didn’t give it away, their grinning faces did.

“We figured everyone else would have you covered on the tech and practicality side of things.” Duke explains as Dick retrieves their joined project from its pod and hands it to you.

“We wanted to make something that speaks to your soul.” Dick finishes. Their statement clearly rehearsed for maximum intrigue.

You don’t say the first response that comes to mind, but Tim does, near abouts. “And their soul is a reject from Abba’s wardrobe?”

“I said enough.” But he was right. They were all right, in a way, it wasn’t techy or practical, but it certainly appealed to something inside you. A desire to stand out? To dress like the superheroes of your childhood Saturday morning cartoons?

It was by far the smallest suit, with skin-tone tights to keep your arms and legs warm. A near plunging neckline, with a flared collar that was meant to be worn popped. Looking closer you could see that the sequins weren’t sequins at all, but little meal plates coated in some kind of iridescent polish, surely there was some form of pragmatic reason for it, but you couldn’t put your finger on it.

“Maybe not for stopping a bank robbery.” You ponder aloud, swaying your body to see how well the shiny metallic layer reflected light, the dimness of the cave not offering much to work with. “But certainly, for a disco, do places still do discos?”

“No.” Four voices reply in deadpan unity.

“Don’t even humour them.” Jason is having none of it, the look on his face reads that he can’t believe you even tried it on. “I was supposed to be on their team, but I refuse to put my name on that monstrosity.”

“Hey.” Duke and Dick respond in unison, furrowed brows and inadvertently pouty lips don’t suit their faces.

“I supposed that explains the last one.” You redirect before another argument can break out. The final suit, Jay's suit, isn’t really a suit at all. More a mishmash of things seemingly cobbled together from the nearest army surplus store. Big military-grade boots that feel clunky on your feet, a black spandex turtleneck, a thermal-lined leather jacket with stray threads that clearly had previously secured a multitude of now-missing embroidered patches, and camo trousers that had been dyed to match your colours.

“How you have the audacity to claim our suit is a Robin suit, when yours is clearly devised from your own wardrobe astounds me, Todd.” Damian comments coldly, deploying his patented glare.

“It only looks like that because it’s cool, and I only wear cool stuff.” Jason fires back.

“It’s not cool, it looks like something an edgy teenager thinks is cool.”

“At least mine has- ” “Yours isn’t even- ” “This isn’t the 80s!”

A slew of arguments and insults are thrown back and forth, voices talking over each other. The distinct sound of a batarang being launched rings throughout the cave until Barbara silences everyone with the loud clapping of her hands and the declaration that; “We have to let them decide.”

Seven pairs of eyes fall on you, all awaiting vindication, and more importantly: bragging rights. It was an impossible situation; you’d known that from the beginning. There was no conceivable way you could pick one without hurting feelings, or more likely, causing a war. It would be akin to picking a favourite child. Fortunately, you’re saved by The Bat.

“Actually,” Bruce’s deep voice intervenes, cutting through the charged silence, finally speaking up for the first time since your unconventional fashion show had begun. He presses a button on the console beside you and another case ascends from the floor, revealing a 5th suit. “There's one more.”

His smile is smug, the same that often graces your son's faces, particularly Damian's. A smile that says he’s already won. That or he’s simply enjoying seeing his family engage in some healthy, almost non-combative competition. Either way, it evokes a communal groan from the children.

It seems Bruce had had a similar idea to Babs and Steph. The suit resembled your old one, with some noticeable differences. It was all shades of matte black, from head to toe, excluding a very subtle, scattered layer of glitter embedded in the thermal lined fabric. Glitter of your signature colour, you could tell it had been included to appeal to you, but also to have minimal effect on your being able to blend into the dark.

It also included an embellishment of lightweight armour, gloves that seemed to be a direct knockoff from Tims, and a utility belt. But the thing that stood out most, the thing all the others lacked, was a single, shiny symbol adorning its chest piece. Your symbol. So taken with it, you can’t help but run your fingertips across the cool metal, accidentally dislodging it.

“Oh sh- sugar.” You correct yourself, careful not to swear in front of impressionable, or teasing ears. “I broke it already!”

Your husband chuckles, low but soft as he fastens it back into place. “I haven’t finalised that piece yet. I thought maybe you’d want to change your alias, something not associated with your past.”

“Oh.” The insignia suddenly feels much heavier. No matter how much you, Bruce, or anybody else had reassured you during your relationship, you’d always suspected, just a little bit that Bruce might resent your former life, might be ashamed of it, and the confirmation hit you like a ton of bricks. As tempting as it is to agree to the proposition, to make him happy you can’t. “Bruce, my past is a part of who I am. I can’t change that.”

“I know. I thought better of it later, that’s why I had it made.” He places his hand over the top of yours, pressing you both against the metal symbol. “I knew you’d rather reclaim this one.”

A smile spreads across your face then, and he mirrors it with his own. You can’t help it, the relief of having his approval, the warmth of his acceptance, he always gets you, eventually. You also can’t help leaning in for a kiss, one which he happily welcomes, cupping your hips and pulling you closer as your lips press together. The embrass is short-lived, the moment sullied by the distress of your children.

“EW!”

“Gross.”

“I’m outta here.” “I’ll join you.”

“Appalling sight parents.”

“Guess Bruce won then.” “Lame, ours was better.”

When the cave is cleared out, you waste no time pulling Bruce back in to finish your kiss, attacking him with multiple smatterings across his jaw, cheeks, and lips. He laughs, weak to your ambush, greedily enjoying every second of it until you pull away.

“I should go find them, say thank you. This was all very thoughtful.” Nothing would go to waste; you were already planning how you might integrate pieces of each suit into one. One that would reflect who you were, adorned with pieces of the people who had supported you through it, whether intentionally or not.

You can tell Bruce wants to keep you here, but he nods, reluctantly agreeing until the screen behind him flashes red, an alarm begins beeping incessantly. “You’ll have to thank them later.”

Time to put your new suit into action.

[sommerregenjuniluft]

@jegulus-microfic june 17 — dust — 1279 words aka soft, mushy, fluffy jegulus on beach vacay<3 (harry is there too and he’s being super stinking cute)

James lifts his head from where he was picking sand out of Harry’s eyelid crease when Regulus turns aggressively on his beach towel for the nth time since Harry and he had come over to get this one’s water bottle.

“You okay there, love?” James asks as Harry gulps away noisily.

“No,” Regulus cries out, sitting up abruptly. “I’m sunburned and dehydrated, my head hurts, I am itching all over because of whatever stupid fucking insects keep biting or stinging me, I can feel sand in my ass crack and,” Regulus heaves a pitiful sigh, “and there’s dust all over my favorite sneakers.”

There’s a vein throbbing in his temple that James itches to smooth out, kiss away.

It’s been a risky step, going on vacation together with Harry and Sirius, the four of them, just a few weeks after Regulus and James had started exploring that little thing of theirs. When longing glances exchanged turned into brushing hands and snuggling closer on the couch turned secret, cautious kisses and whispered confessions.

And now Regulus is flushed and his voice is all whiney and James knows it’s an inappropriate thought right now but he just really wants to help Regulus feel better again. Take his face into careful palms and slowly snog him breathless until he can’t think of anything else but James and feeling good.

James is about to open his mouth when Harry, who has witnessed Regulus’ little outbreak, suddenly dumps his water bottle back into James’ lap and waddles right over to him. James’ toddler reaches for Regulus’ hand, petting it, watching him carefully out of big eyes, “Take a deep breath, Reg’lus.”

James promptly melts into the sand and Regulus’ expression, as well, softens in an instant. A weak chuckle slips out of him and then, following Harry’s advice, he takes a big inhale. His cheeks puff when he blows it back out and James thinks he’s pretty sure Regulus is the most adorable adult person to ever exist. Adult because no one can beat Harry when he gets going.

Harry nods, satisfied, and then runs back to the water where Sirius is waiting on him.

“There you go,” James murmurs, grinning, when Regulus takes another steadying breath.

“You,” the younger man throws him a half hearted glare out of stormy eyes, “piss off.”

James scrambles himself up out of the sand, opening his arms slightly, “C’mere, love.”

Regulus’ eyes soften, get all dewy and needy, but they also keep darting back and forth between James and the others by the water. Like he wants it so badly but won’t let himself have it. He shakes his head feebly, “We can’t.”

James clicks his tongue, opening his arms wider and wiggling his fingers, “Shut up—yes, we can. Come here.”

Regulus pulls at his bottom lip with his teeth, hesitating, “But…”

“I said, shut up and come here, Reg.”

Regulus huffs, like it’s an utter inconvenience to get up and get hugged but he does so anyways. He shuffles the few paces over to James and then lets himself thunk against his chest, weakly slinging his arms around James’ waist.

James can’t help but muffle a snort into the curls behind Regulus’ ear at the dramatics. He closes his arms around this one’s shoulders, softly raking short nails of one hand up and into his dark hair.

“You’re laughing at me,” Regulus grumbles against James’ shoulder, squeezing around his middle in reprimand.

“No, I would never,” James replies immediately. He lets his fingers dance gently over Regulus’ sunburned skin and feels him sink into him even more. James hums happily at that response, kissing the side of his head.

Regulus’ breath hitches and a warm feeling piles up in James’ chest, tingling all the way into his fingertips where he’s still touching the younger man.

“You smell like salt,” Regulus says, his tone accusing, “And you’re all sandy.”

James cups the nape of Regulus’ neck and pulls back to look at him, “That’s what typically happens when you’re on holiday at the beach.”

Regulus’ pout morphs into a sneer and James’ grin widens. “Feeling better?”

“No,” Regulus replies, not missing a beat. His hands are still linked at the small of James’ back. He really thinks he’s so clever, huh?

James raises his eyebrows expectantly.

Regulus’ nose scrunches, “Perhaps a little bit.”

James ducks closer again, pushing a curl that tumbled its way deep into Regulus’ forehead back again, “Let me tell you something—”

Regulus heaves another sigh. “Oh, great.”

James goes on, undeterred, “Why don’t we grant ourselves a little off-day tomorrow? Harry and Sirius can run around the beach all day or visit that reptile house again and we make ourselves all comfortable in the air bnb.”

Regulus blinks at him, that hopeful yet apprehensive look in his eyes. James knows he’ll give in though eventually and he can be so patient for Regulus. He lets his hand slide forward and thumbs at Regulus’ bottom lip.

And then James has to work hard to trap a groan behind his teeth because Regulus parts his lips so pliantly, not moving, just letting James do his thing. It makes James’ blood pump faster, high on all those ecstatic feelings, fondness and desire and something much more deep rooted that James hasn’t let himself think out loud yet.

“All day?” Regulus whispers, lips moving under James’ finger and breaking his train of thought.

“Yeah, love, all day,” James confirms.

Absentmindedly, it seems, Regulus fumbles around with his hands at James’ back.

James purses his lips, “Are you nervous?” Of course he’d love to hang out with Regulus all day but not if that’s something he isn’t comfortable with yet.

“No, no,” Regulus shakes his head, bringing his hands around between them with a frown, “I’m itchy.” He’s scratching at a red spot right below his wrist, one of the many insect bites.

James coos quietly and he gently wraps his palm around it, lifting them. He places a gentle kiss, watching intently as Regulus’ eyelids flutter, frown magically gone. God, how is James supposed to behave around him? It’s a wonder he’s been able to reign himself in for so long in the first place.

“Y’know,” James grins against Regulus’ reddened skin, “They say saliva helps sooth the itchiness of insect bites.”

A small noise slips from Regulus and James’ grin sharpens.

“What?”

“Oh, you heard me, love,” James replies. He gently massages the ball of Regulus’ palm with his own thumb, watching as this one keeps staring back at James stupidly. He’s so cute. “Any objections?”

“James,” Regulus breathes, swallows roughly.

Slowly, James lifts their hands again, peering at Regulus intently in case his breathlessness turns from excited to apprehensive. But it doesn’t. All the way up to James’ mouth and then James is collecting the spit from under his tongue and letting the dollop drop right onto the patch of red skin.

Regulus sucks in a breath upon the landing and James can’t help but hum deep in his throat. It’s like Regulus renders the polite and logical part of his brain completely useless, instead activating a much more different and distinctly primal part. A part that thinks it’s a good idea to do stuff like spit on Regulus and rub it into his skin until it’s spread expertly.

“Okay, yes,” Regulus says suddenly.

James blinks in confusion but Regulus isn’t done yet apparently because he goes on, nodding dazedly, “We’ll have an off-day together. The…two of us.”

A bright smile creeps itself onto James’ face. He steals himself a quick kiss from Regulus’ cheek, watching his blush deepen as James announces, “Happy to hear that.”

[sincerelyrki]

MINI SKIRT

↳ five : don’t speak beabadobee to me

wc : 810

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The second you stepped into the store a serene wave of comfort washed over you. You practically felt your mind calm as the familiar scent of their air refresher danced against your skin. 

Your boots offered a tune of white noise, harmonizing with the overhead fans. You walked with a specific destination in mind, fingers treading against the vast majority of jacket sleeves, textures unchanging until you reached the wide stand along the wall.

All worries that consumed you before were now replaced with a childish delight, chest tingling as you looked up at the wide variety of sunglasses. 

More often than not you tended to stray away from the sunglasses, often opting to get a new skirt, maybe even a jacket if you felt exploitative that day. But today, everything felt different.

You didn’t know what caused this feeling, countless options being at hand. Maybe it was the change of weather, summer coming in fast. The heat of the sun boring down into your window every morning.

Or maybe it was what happened with Enhypen’s new video, a longing to be unrecognizable itching away at your skin.

It’s not like you weren’t already in the public eye, both your parents making a name for themselves long before you were born. But it wasn’t the same, you couldn’t hide away from the labels getting thrown at you by random kids on the internet.

Even while growing up with famous parents, the comments were never as inessential as they are now. You shook off the oncoming thoughts, trying to get the same clarity you felt seconds ago.

A small smile fell on your lips as you noticed a specific pair of black glasses, the ones that you’ve been eyeing since they came out years ago.

Now you were almost convinced that it was destiny that brought you here. The glasses have been sold out since the day they entered this location, a restock always happening at the most inconvenient times.

You stood on your tippy toes as you reached for the glasses, fingertips barely grazing them before you leaned back down with a huff. Before you could turn around to search for an employee’s aid, an arm shot out beside you.

You stood still with bated breath, shock numbing your limbs as a random man slid beside you. His denim jacket nearly touched your own as he brought his arm back down, the glasses tight between his fingers. 

Without saying a word he passed them towards you, keeping his head turned away. After a moment of just standing beside each other, glasses held between the two of you, you finally took them from him.

“Thank you” Your voice came out surprisingly shy, a confused expression blooming across your face. It wasn’t like you to get shy, especially not to some random man.

But after turning away, you soon learned that he wasn’t just some random man. Your jaw dropped in shock as you caught his eyes in the reflection from the glasses, eyes widening as you quietly whispered his name, “Jake Sim?”

It was hard not to notice Jake’s pupils dilating the second you turned towards him, his breath hitching as your cute expression captivated him. 

His eyes mindlessly scanned your outfit, stopping as they reached your skirt, a black miniskirt. It felt like he was put into a haze, unable to see anything aside from you.  

You slightly smirked as you observed your effect on Jake, his demeanour giving everything away. You were well aware of the way his chest rose and fell, his hands nervously shaking by his side. 

“You’re Jake, right?” Your voice broke him out of whatever trance you pushed him into before. His head snapped back up towards you, mouth morphing into a wide smile as he realized what you said.

“You know me?” At your nod Jake couldn’t help but perk up, his hand slapping against his mouth at your confirmation.

Your heart stuttered in your chest after noticing his actions, his jacket covering his hands as it pressed against the lower part of his mouth. “You’re so cute!” 

Jake bashfully looked off towards the side, shaking his head as he denied your words. His burning cheeks were nearly impossible to hide, fully visible for your viewing.

“Are you buying those?” Jake tried changing the topic, a singular finger sticking out from his sleeves as he pointed at the sunglasses in your hand.

You once again nodded, teeth showing as you gave him your brightest smile, “Yeah, thought I’d finally get them today.” You didn’t offer him any further explanation, not that he cared.

Jake practically saw his dreams unfolding before his eyes, the opportunity that he’d been waiting for was finally in the palm of his hands. 

“Let me buy them for you?” And who were you to deny an offer from Jake Sim? 

SYNOPSIS ⮕ You know Jake Sim and you love Prada, it was already a perfect combination. You just happened to always be in the same place as him, at the same time. And that place just happened to be the Prada store. It’s not your fault that your Prada collection expands as your interactions grow. Especially not considering that Jake couldn’t stop himself from fawning over you (and your mini skirts).

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perm taglist : @jwnghyuns

[greensbeanspotatoestomatoes]

Alright so this one is based on this post, of the lovely fairy AU by the lovelier @lara-cairncross<3

Some content warnings maybe?? if there's anything else let me know. Mentions of over stimulation and hints of the ol’ autism. Also mentions of dying although although that doesn't happen!!

Anyways I hope you enjoy!

==========

He swears he didn’t mean to do it. He was just having one of those days, y’know? 

The morning started off fine, he even got the hinges on his new project to work flawlessly! It’s just, he dropped his screwdriver. And then he dropped the nails. And then the workshop got too crowded and noisy. And, by then, The Feeling had set in.

Luckily, it didn’t Feel like full shut down. But it did make his mouth feel sour, and his head heavy and his skin all prickly. All in all, Donnie was in a Bad Mood. Just not bad enough to miss visiting April later though. He hoped.

April had introduced them to the Clumsy Big Box of Colours last week, and he was just dying to get a good look at how it all worked. How did those big, clumsy hands put those little miniatures into the Box and make them move? With speaking and music too! 

At first they’d been horrified. His brothers thought the Clumsies had captured and de-winged fairies for their entertainment! But after April reassured them that it wasn’t anything like that, that it was purely Clumsy technology, Donnie had been hungry to figure out how it worked.

Unfortunately Mikey had started to feel a bit queasy in the bright light and colours of the Box, so April turned it off, much to Donnie’s dismay. But she promised him he could take a look at it when they visited again next week. Well it's been seven days and he hasn't been able to take his mind off the Box. He’s itching to get a look at it. And his family doesn’t have another gap in their schedule to fly to April for a while. So he has to go today. Bad Mood be damned.

But minutes start to feel like hours as the day drags on and every minor inconvenience becomes 10 times more aggravating. Donnie’s tense and quiet during the flight, just allowing the voices of his family to wash over him. It soothes him a little and his head feels less jumbled by the time they make it to the Main Land. It doesn’t take them long to reach April’s house, with Leo flying them at his top speed. She spots them a couple of seconds before they arrive, always seeming to know exactly when they’re coming. April throws open her windows with a smile and a bright “Hey guys! Come on in!”

They touch down on the kitchen island among the bowls of fruit. Raph immediately gets his hands on a strawberry to munch on, tossing one to Leo as well. April chuckles at their antics, and giggles when Mikey flutters up to her hair to admire her new headband, before spotting Donnie quiet on the counter.

“Oh Dee! The TV’s in the other room, c’mon.”

She reaches her hand out, palm up and some of the tension drains from his shoulders. He has his brace on, fully capable of flight, but the thought of putting his wings to use right now feels so draining, so he gladly takes her offered lift.

April walks them to the TV room, making short work of the journey that would have been a mission for him to fly. “It’s all set up, the power’s off so you won’t get a shock, so tinker to your heart’s content! Just, uh, try and put it all back in the right place?”

He just nods his head along to her words as April sets him down next to the Big Box of Colours. “Well, here you go. Uh, we’ll be in the kitchen, Mike wants to learn how baking works,” she chuckles, “Give me a shout if you need anything.” And with that she gives him a smile before turning back to the kitchen, “Enjoy!”

And then Donnie is alone with the Box. Shaking out the buzzing in his bones, he sets his toolbelt down and gets to work on the most interesting piece of equipment he’s ever laid eyes on. 

So he promises it was an accident. He had felt so excited about this opportunity. But he underestimated the complexity of the Box and he was quickly growing frustrated at his inability to understand it. And the sounds of April and his brothers in the kitchen were starting to make his head pound.

And a half an hour later, when April came to check up on him, she didn’t know she was doing anything wrong. She just thought she was getting his attention. But she poked him, and Donnie did the thing he always does when one of his brothers pokes him while he’s working, or when his head is sore, or when he’s in a Bad Mood. He turns his head and he bites.

“Ow!!”

Now, he knows April is a Clumsy. He knows fairy bites are toxic to them. He knows his bite is the most poisonous of his whole family’s. So he knows that under no circumstances should he ever bite April. But in his Bad Mood he’d forgotten it all. And with dawning horror, he realises it might have just cost his best friend her life.

“April!!”

“Donnie!”

He hears his big brother shout his name, when Mikey and Leo shout for April, and the shock and fear in Raph’s voice is just too much. All of the Bad Mood comes surging up and he feels his eyes start to wet.

They're flying towards him and April, but Donnie can do nothing as he watches his venom course through April’s veins, slowly killing her. His brothers frantically fly around her, asking her all sorts of questions, but April tries to shoo them away. “It’s just a little bite,” she says clutching her finger, “Don’t worry guys, I’m fine!”

“No you’re not!” Donnie shouts, “I bit you, and fairy bites are fatal to Clumsies!”

April goes quiet. They all do. They're waiting. Eventually, after a minute of nothing happening, April speaks. “Is something supposed to happen? Nothing’s wrong.”

In the silence, Leo touches down on the table next to Donnie. He looks up at April, then to Donnie, then to Raph who landed next to him as well. “...No you should definitely feel bad. Dee’s bite is pretty quick working.”

Mikey still flutters worriedly between his brothers and April. “Do you guys think… it’s related to the voice thing?”

‘The voice thing?’

Raph puts it together first. “April is immune!” he cries suddenly. “It;s the same reason she can understand us! April is immune to fairy poison!”

Relief washes through Donnie because it makes sense. April can hear them, when humans shouldn't be able to. She always knows when they’re coming, and she didn't die when he bit her. April is immune.

Tears that never quite left, spring to his eyes again. “April I'm so so sorry, I should never have bit you. We didn't know. And you could've died, and it would've been all my fault–”

“Hey.” She kneels down next to the table so her eyes are level with his, “It’s alright Dee. You didn't mean it. And I’m perfectly fine. It’s even more proof that I’m the specialist snowflake,” she puts on her smug grin, like she always does, and laughs. Donnie gives a wet chuckle too.

“How about we leave the tinkering and watch something on the TV instead? Something black and white so the colours don’t affect Mikey. The muffins are almost done too and we can have a snack while we watch. The TV will always be here another day if you want to take a look then. So what do you say?”

She holds out her hand, offering him another lift, and he easily takes it again.

They end up watching some historic Clumsy movie that April calls a classic, munching on pieces of warm muffin. Mikey and Leo pass out relatively quick and Donnie sits leaning against Raph. They’re on April’s lap, which means the people he loves are all nearby and all healthy and safe. 

His Bad Mood felt a little less bad after that.

===========

Is Leo my favourite character? Yes. Do i keep writing Donnie-centric stories? Also yes.

I do plan to write on the others soon though, I swear I have other ideas y'all, this one just wrote the easiest.

Also RIP Frida, you're not mentioned bc I have no idea who you are yet. </3

[xhanisai]

Uhh marichat where Chat gets Mari away from an akuma and she accidentally forgets she’s not wearing the mask when she talks to him.

~(x)~

.

He didn't even take the time to breathe and before he knew it, Chat Noir pounced on Marinette's frozen form and rolled them away in the nick of time. The nasty Akuma's razor-sharp claws swiped the area she was at momentarily ago at lightning speed and had the hero not been quick enough, well...

In his arms, he'd be holding Marinette "I'm-In-So-Much-Du-FUCKING-PAIN" Cheng instead and it would have been a severely gruesome sight. Thank the kwamis from all around the world that some good luck shined on him for once (but most importantly, thank the lucky charm bracelet Marinette gave him a long while back which he wore religiously every day as a civilian).

The Akuma's warning growls and oncoming form were enough to snap the feline out of his thoughts and by instinct, he picked Marinette up bridal style and sprinted away as fast as possible. Though, the Akuma let out one last roar of anger which Chat Noir managed to hear even after putting a few good hundreds of metres between them.

"I WILL GET MY REVENGE ON YOU MARINETTE DUPAIN-CHENG! YOU WILL NEVER INSULT MY BRILLIANT FOOD EVER AGAIN YOU BRAT!"

Wide-eyed, Chat Noir directed his greens towards his huffing good friend, the girl rolling her eyes at the Akuma's words and looking very annoyed rather than scared for her life. As if the whole thing was just an inconvenience and the Akuma's claws weren't literally millimetres away from turning her into a sheesh kebab.

"Marinette? Est-ce vrais?" He asked as he continued to leap from rooftop to rooftop, noting in the back of his head that the Akuma was now busy arguing with le Papillon in their head a good distance away. They were safe for now.

"He was selling mouldy fruit tarts! And the sandwiches tasted like they were made ten thousand years ago!" She folded her arms and huffed childishly again when he set her down on her feet, his hands on his hips and a brow raised attractively under the mask. "I told him this politely and tried my best to not make a fuss. But no! He started yelling at me and got all the customers' attention!" Her blue eyes then turned beady with its glare. "Then that stupid man tried to insult Maman and Papa, saying how can a stupid kid like me with parents like them know any better? So I said his food sucked and that even a five-year-old could do a way better job! Hmmph!"

Ahh. No wonder he got akumatised and had a vendetta against the pouting girl. Chat Noir could only smile at her endearingly, always admiring the way Marinette could get so fired up and passionate on behalf of other people. It's one of the many, many things about her that made his heart flutter and try his best to match her energy when he can. It's just a shame that instead of getting a chance to de-escalate the argument, le Papillon reared his ugly head and took advantage of the fuming man's emotions.

"Well. It looks like he's itching to dice you up and put you on a tart. You should hide before the Akuma--"

"COME OUT, COME OUT WHEREVER YOU ARE, DUPAIN-CHENG!!!!"

Just as Chat Noir was about to scoop her back in his arms and dart away, Marinette did a complete one-eighty and took on a strong stance. Fists curled by her sides, eyes now narrowed with determination and she stared down at the Akuma who was still quite a distance away from them; his giant but clumsy form still looking for her with a nasty scowl on his face.

"Chat Noir. Get to the rooftop on the Akuma's left and have your catacylsme ready. I'll summon a lucky charm once I'm behind him. I guarantee that the butterfly is in his apron so hopefully I'll get a pair of scissors or something." She was completely blind to the way Chat Noir gawked behind her, his jaw comically dropping to the floor and his eyes bulging out of their sockets.

He couldn't even utter a word.

"Let's go!" She ordered and just as she ran and reached the end of the rooftop they were perched on, her hand automatically went to the side of her hip.

When she didn't feel her yoyo anywhere on her and realised that she was still decked up in her civilian attire, it was as if a bucket of icy cold water mercilessly poured on her head. In pure Marinette style, her face contorted into one that screamed 'I FUCKED UP' and slowly, she faced her Chaton who was still gaping at her.

.

"...I can explain." She rasped weakly. Instead of laughing it all off and pretending nothing happened like he should've (that stupid cat!), Chat Noir got down to one knee instead, pulled off his ring, revealing himself to be none other than Adrien Agreste and spoke.

"Marry me. Now. Please."

.

Of course, Marinette screamed like a dying monkey.

.

~(x)~

HOPE YOU ENJOYED!

[reallylilyreally]

Baberoe is like bluebells in spring to me, every time! Sweet even when not, all colour and joy after the dark and cold. I am itching to read how your fic-writing golden touch is going to play out this time! So excited to read it, but not at the expense of your wellbeing. Take care of yourself! The horrors are real, relative comfort or no. xx

oh man this made me super emotional. Thank you so much for this message, I really deeply appreciate you reaching out on this! Have a snippet...

It’s snowing again. He sits and stares out at the line, at the nothingness and the Germans, until the sun starts to come up again, weak and grey, and everyone leaves him alone. Babe almost wants them to stop, wants Luz or Liebgott to come back and sit down next to him so he can look at someone who sees him and have them know that he is dying.

There are footsteps in the snow, someone coming up on his position from behind, and Babe can’t bring himself to turn around. There’s a pause, a shuffle in the snow, and then there’s a body pressed up against him, not quite warm, but better than before.

Babe knows who it is, even without looking. He can’t look.

“Everything okay?” Gene asks, like he hasn’t been dead for hours, like Babe hasn’t been dying over him for hours. “Babe?”

He answers on autopilot, as Gene reaches for his hand. Everything is slow and swimmy and he feels strangely blank.

“How’d you do that?” Gene asks, gesturing down at his bleeding hand.

Babe turns to look at him. He’s actually there. Gene. Sitting next to him, in the mud, face pale and nose red, covered in dirt but wearing his fucking helmet for once, and he’s actually there. He’s looking at Babe like he can see him, and holding his hand carefully between his steady fingers, no desperation, no blankness, just Gene, looking at Babe, like he can see him.

“You did that,” Babe says to him, and he means you did this, you did this to me, you cut me open, worse than just my skin, deeper than this, you’ve cut me open.

“I’ll fix it up,” Gene says, and takes a piece of blue cloth out of his pocket.

Babe has to look away from him for a moment, has to get some distance, just a little, because he’s this close from doing something utterly, unforgivably stupid. And then it occurs to him.

“Hey, Gene,” he says, the laugh bubbling up out of him from nowhere. “You called me Babe.”

Gene looks up from wrapping his hand. “I did? When?”

“Just now,” Babe says. You called me Babe.

“Babe,” Gene says, like he’s testing the word on his tongue. 

It’s been the only thing Babe’s been called for most of his life, and it sounds completely new. It sounds like something special, something just for them. 

“Babe,” he says back, a little light, a little mocking.

Gene ties off the bandage around his hand, and shoves him a little. “Heffron, watch the goddamn line.”

Babe snorts, despite himself, and watches the goddamn line. Gene settles in next to him, pressed steady and nearly warm against his side, shoulder to thigh. Babe breathes, in and out, beset by brand new knowledge, knowledge he’s been ignoring for months now. 

**

He wears the blue bandage around his cut hand until it becomes more inconvenient than the wound itself, and when he takes it off Babe folds the bloody fabric neatly and tucks it into one of the inside pockets of his jacket. He doesn’t look too closely at what he’s doing. There doesn’t seem to be any point in examining it.

[cuddlepilefics]

Dreadful weather

Fandom: Ateez

Sickie: Seonghwa

Caregivers: San + Mingi

Prompt @domaystic

Seonghwa is feeling dreadfully under the weather.

No one’s POV.:

Seonghwa gave a stuffy sigh as he sat up in bed. He shouldn’t even be awake but the rain pattering against the window made it impossible for him to sleep. Weird. Usually, he found the noise soothing but right now, after laying awake for hours, it almost drove him up the walls. Why couldn’t he sleep? After spending the past couple of days in an allergic misery, Seonghwa had taken the strong antihistamines, which he usually avoided because they made him drowsy. He was already annoyed and frustrated thanks to the relentless itch in his sinuses and the irritated tears spilling from his eyes no matter how much he rubbed at them. Sure, he hadn’t gotten much sleep the previous night, the thick congestion making it tough to breathe. Sitting up on the edge of his bed helped a little his head still ached.

If it wasn’t pouring rain outside, Seonghwa would’ve considered heading over to Hongjoong’s dorm because he craved comfort but didn’t want San nor Mingi to see him in such pathetic state. He rested his head in his hands and gave a tired cough to clear his throat. The motion seemed to dislodge something, choking him. Seonghwa’s throat burned when he finally managed to stop coughing, tears of exhaustion trailing down his cheeks. Usually, his allergies didn’t leave him feeling as run down as he had all day but a week of bad, barely existing sleep certainly explained it. It were moments like this, that made him miss their old dorm so much. Having had Hongjoong as a roommate for so long, he knew the leader would soon be arriving home from the studio and back in the day, they’d still be able to chat for a bit but now. Now he had a room to himself, which was probably a blessing, considering how he had been tossing and turning all night. Not to mention the frequent sniffles and sneezes.

Giving up on sleep, Seonghwa got up and padded to the kitchen. Maybe a hot cup of tea would soothe his throat some or at least help clear his congestion. In reality, he only needed a task, something to take his mind off of his misery. What Seonghwa didn’t expect, was San rummaging through the kitchen cabinets in search of a late night snack. The younger froze at being caught red-handed and furrowed his brows when the expected scolding didn’t come. “Everything alright, hyung?”, the other frowned, watching Seonghwa turn on the kettle. The elder gave an uncertain hum as he dropped a teabag into his favorite cup. Chewing on his bottom lip in confusion, San muttered: “Tea in the middle of the night? What’s up?” – “Can’t sleep”, Seonghwa rasped, his speech slightly slurred, “This fucking rain keeps hitting my window and it’s so annoying.” - “Headphones?”, the younger offered, remembering that his hyung had taken his stronger meds and was most definitely not supposed to be awake right now. Pouring the hot water over his teabag, Seonghwa mumbled: “They’re not doin’ anything. ‘m still as itchy a’d stuffed up.” – “Weird”, San hummed, scratching the back of his head, “Are you sure it’s allergies then? You’ve also been coughing a lot. It really seems to have gone straight to your chest though it usually affects mainly your eyes and nose.”

Seonghwa was stunned. He hadn’t expected San to be this observant. “I dunno”, the eldest muttered, massaging his throat. His dongsaeng did have a point but he didn’t really have the time to be sick right now. They had tight schedules and him catching a cold would be more than inconvenient, so as long as he wasn’t running a high fever that would prove him otherwise, he’d convince himself that his symptoms were brought on by allergies, like they always were around this time of the year. Inhaling the steam from the cup, Seonghwa sniffled: “You should go back to bed, Sannie.” – “So should you, hyung. Maybe take your temperature first ‘cause you shouldn’t look this sick after taking those allergy meds”, San urged, patting his hyung on the shoulder, “You could take some flu meds if you have a fever and might even be able to get some sleep then.”

Though he brushed his dongsaeng’s concerns off, Seonghwa did take his temperature, which made his resolve crumble. It seemed San had been right and it was no surprise that the antihistamines hadn’t made him feel better. Downing a pill for the fever, Seonghwa ran a washcloth under cold water and took it back to his room. He settled back in bed and put in his earphones to drown out the noise of rain still pattering against his window before draping the cold washcloth over his forehead and closing his eyes. It did soothe the headache a little but he still felt awfully lonely. No, he didn’t need anyone to take care of him but knowing somebody was close by always felt comforting. Sure, he knew that San and Mingi were just down the hallway and would probably come if he called them but he never liked burdening his dongsaengs. The only exception was Hongjoong because they were born in the same year but Seonghwa also didn’t want to force the leader to leave his dorm and make the walk over in this dreadful weather.

Though the cold washcloth helped, Seonghwa still felt restless and only managed to doze off for a couple of minutes at a time. While the tea had been nice on his throat, it didn’t lessen the itch in the slightest. The bothersome urge to cough ruining his attempts at sleeping. At some point, there was a knock at the door and Seonghwa blearily looked up, fully expecting San coming to check whether his suspicion had been correct but no. “Are you okay, hyung?”, Mingi hummed. His voice was thick with sleep and came out huskier than usual. Seonghwa felt a jab of guilt, figuring he had woken the rapper with all of his coughing. Taking a seat on the edge of his hyung’s bed, Mingi mumbled: “I got you some water. Are you really sure those are just allergies? Your cough sounds bad.” – “Thanks, Mingi-yah”, the older rasped. He propped himself up on his elbow and accepted the drink.

Once Seonghwa had sipped about half of it, his voice was starting to return and he admitted: “’s not allergies. Got a fever too.” Placing the glass onto the nightstand, he sat up against the headboard, so he could talk to Mingi on eye level. “The strong antihistamines weren’t working, so Sannie told me to take my temperature”, he sniffled, rubbing at his face, “Should’ve known it wasn’t allergies. My throat does get itchy, yeah, but never like this.” – “You already took medicine?”, Mingi asked softly, switching on the reading lamp to get a proper look at Seonghwa, who hissed and shielded his eyes from the lamp. The older gave an exhausted nod before dropping his head back against the wall. Unsure of how else to help, Mingi hummed: “Does Hongjoong-hyung already know you’re sick?” Seonghwa shook his head and mumbled: “Was gonna call him in the morning. Didn’t want to wake him in case he’s sleeping for once.” Knowing their leader preferred to make his own judgement, he would probably come over right away to assess how bad it was because he didn’t trust his only hyung to not downplay his symptoms. “Besides, he’d probably come over and I don’t want him being out in this dreadful weather”, Seonghwa added.

“Do you need anything?”, Mingi asked, desperate to help. Seonghwa always took care of them, so he obviously deserved the same but how? Glancing at the rapper with barely concealed frustration, the older muttered: “Aside from sleep? No.” – “Oh, I’m sorry”, Mingi gasped, sheepishly scratching his neck, “I- I’ll leave. Good night, hyung.” He was already getting up when Seonghwa realized how his words had been taken and rasped: “Tha’s not how I meant it.” He didn’t want his dongsaeng to leave, although he knew that it would be for the best to contain the spread of his cold but he had finally not been lonely anymore. “I can’t sleep”, Seonghwa tried his best to explain, desperation evident in his voice, “I’m so freaking tired but I can’t. The antihistamines did work, they are making me drowsy as hell but not enough to actually fall asleep.” – “Hm, if you’ve been trying for hours with no success, how about we distract you?”, Mingi offered, “Just laying here and waiting for the morning will only leave you more exhausted and frustrated. We could watch a movie if you want.”

Though feeling incredibly guilty for keeping his dongsaeng up, Seonghwa let himself be talked into hanging out in the living room. He had bundled up in two blankets because he still felt a little chilled despite the fever reducers he took and now waited for Mingi to get settled too. The rapper turned on the TV and smiled: “Should we catch up on that drama you like so much?” – “Won’t it be boring for you to watch the episodes out of context?”, Seonghwa frowned but his dongsaeng just shrugged. “I don’t mind”, he said truthfully. He’d probably fall asleep pretty quickly and miss the plot anyway but he didn’t want his hyung to know how tired he secretly was.

“Movie night?”, San yawned as he shuffled to the living room. The commotion had woken him and he wanted to check what his dorm mates were up to. Looking up, Mingi hummed in confirmation and explained: “Insomnia.” He didn’t want to give too much details that Seonghwa might not be willing to give. More worried now that he realized Seonghwa still wasn’t able to sleep, San frowned: “Hyung, did you take your temperature?” – “Mhm”, the eldest hummed hoarsely but he didn’t elaborate, so San pressed: “Was I right?” – “Mhm”, Seonghwa nodded miserably. The younger sat down with a sigh and brushed the back of his hand against his hyung’s forehead to see just how bad it was. “Oh”, San muttered, “Yeah, no wonder you feel so restless, hyung.” – “Hoped ‘twas jus’ allergies”, the eldest slurred, rubbing his knuckles against the side of his nose. Running his fingers through his hyung’s hair, Mingi shushed: “Nothing we can do about it now, so we might as well make the best of it and enjoy movie night.” San agreed, so Seonghwa had little choice but to tolerate their company because he knew his dongsaengs wouldn’t heed his warnings of contagion. Maybe that wasn’t so bad though. Relaxing between San and Mingi, Seonghwa allowed himself to be egoistic and soak up his friends’ affection for once. He probably wouldn’t have found the courage to ask for someone to keep him company, no matter how much he craved it, so he truly appreciated how San and Mingi had taken that decision from him. He was cozy now, feeling warm between his dongsaengs, his favorite drama playing, drowning out the rain.

[brainworms-all-night-long]

Hey does anyone remember Running from a Nightmare? I just did and um, finished the first half of it in the hopes it'll get me to finish the second some day soon already

I guess one can read this without any context and as a standalone brother's story but just in case

[Words 3,096]

———

Sonic has been feeling on edge for a couple of days now.

At first, he chalked it up to his sixth sense on the lookout for Eggman cooking something up again since the doctor was uncharacteristically quiet which meant the hatching of a new plot. But after his latest scheme was successfully trampled by yours truly and the steady build of anxiety in his gut didn't stop, he began to suspect something else was amiss.

Soon enough it felt like he was being watched.

Now don't get him wrong, he knows the amount of enemies and, uh, "fans" alike that like to keep a not-so-discreet eye on him, this didn't feel like he was seconds away from being jumped though, it felt like he was being, studied?

The feeling faintly lessened when he was among people, on the back burner but still stewing in there. It was alone where he kept his quills bristled and legs ready to either bolt or kick in any direction necessary.

This caused him to prefer crowds or at least one or two of his friends by him at all times. Obviously Tails noticed it as a weird behavior, Sonic wasn't exactly the overly clingy type, but the hedgehog dismissed him easily at first.

Still, knowing that someone or something had its sights trained on him wasn't the most comforting feeling. He assumed that maybe Eggy had sent one of his bots to spy on him, but then couldn't come up with a sensible enough explanation as to why. They had known each other since he was a hoglet, and Sonic kept no secrets that he was aware of, not to mention subtlety was never Eggman's thing. So what could this observation be for?

It was getting harder and harder to suppress his paranoia, especially after a couple of not-so-peaceful naps that left him sleepless. And others aside from Tails began to notice his odd behavior too.

Not that he didn't appreciate the concern but so far it really seemed to be on him alone. No matter what would come of it Sonic would deal with it swiftly and with no sweat. He was sure of it.

If the perpetrator's goal was just to offset him until they could strike, fat chance.

In the end, Sonic's friends knew not to pry because he'd just shut off further, so the subject dropped for some time again.

Unfortunately in that 'some time', Sonic's state gradually slipped into worse.

Tails complained over blue fur and quills messing up his furniture, nightmares that hadn't gotten to Sonic since he was a little guy running around a giant world with no start or destination began to haunt him, and things that no longer bothered him evoked unpleasant memories and sensations. Eventually, it landed him trapped on a picnic where Amy, Knuckles and Tails were determined to get him to talk.

Except there was nothing to talk about. It was all just a minor inconvenience that cost him a few minutes of sleep here and there and made him just a bit sloppier when dealing with the Doctor's usual badnik swarms. Minor inconvenience one too many maybe, but even if he wanted to, he didn't know where he'd start complaining about nothing.

He just needs to run. That's usually what solves his problems and what he felt the itch forever since this whole wrongness gripped him.

He crashed the picnic that they had been planning to have for a few months now. Feeling sorry for it of course, but he hoped they understood. It wasn't a big deal, he was just tired and needed to go take a nap somewhere.

That is what he told them anyway, but the stop wasn't at Tails' workshop, a comfortable tree or warm patch of moss he passed while trying to run away from an invisible presence.

So he ran.

—

Sonic came back hours into midnight, his legs brought him home by pure muscle memory.

Once he entered Tails' workshop, he wordlessly collapsed onto the nearest couch. His presence didn't go unnoticed though, as soon as he crashed, a little fox stood above him with a worried look.

"Hm, 'sup bud. Isn't it past your bedtime?" Sonic forced a lighthearted tone, which the fox definitely wasn't buying, seeing as he deadpanned.

"Is that really the first and only thing that bothers you."

"You bet it is, I care about the health of my dear little bro." Even if tired, he couldn't pass up an opportunity at a loving jab, but instead of the pout he expected, Tails' face was overtaken by a genuine annoyed expression.

"I do too, you know."

And Tails glared, crossing his arms patronizingly.

Oh come on, Sonic thought he made it clear this wasn't a big deal! He just spent the past seven hours dealing with it, safely calling the case closed. "Bud, I'm fine, you can drop it."

"Like hell I can! When was the last time your ugly mug has seen a mirror?"

The younger's voice was gaining a dangerous edge, but Sonic wasn't up to dealing with a cranky fox in his state. It was none of his business.

Still, even if pestering, Tails did it because he cared. So the hedgehog could do the least by responding. Dramatically of course, trying to break the other's offense by widening his eyes and clutching his chest as if he was physicallh hurt by the comment on his appearance.

Tails didn't seem entertained by that at all.

"You look like you haven't slept for a full week Sonic. Something's up and you refuse to tell me. You refuse to tell anyone. Why."

Ok fine, he'll bite.

The last few days have kind of blurred together which usually doesn't happen, but even the great hero of Mobius has his off days alright.

But now that it's mentioned, he hasn't seen his own face in a while, too focused on looking behind his back just to be safe. He doubts it's as bad as Tails makes it out to be, but he elects to, if anything, at least hear his brother out before making another convenient excuse out of here.

"I don't feel like dragging you out of a fight in case you collapse in the middle of it y'know."

"Why do I always have to play mind games with you."

Tails sighed and plopped onto the couch next to him. Seems that he's strategizing at blocking out the exits huh.

Sonic wasn't sure whether or not he was supposed to hear that since the other just mumbled it under his nose with a sigh.

Mind games, as if. There are no mind games, simply things that are inconsequential and that he can take on his own so he doesn't see the reason in sharing them. Yes talk about your feelings and reach out if you need a hand or whatver, but what was there to talk about.

Confess that at best he was being paranoid and brushed off or at worst get his friends dragged into a mess he could've solved alone and feeling the same way? Hard pass.

Still biting back his irritation the hedgehog tried to reach out a comforting hand. He didn't feel like messing anything up between him and Tails when it in a pointless midnight argument and Chaos knew just how annoying the kit could get once he got an idea in his head.

"You guys are making a big deal out of nothing, really–"

"Because even the mildest inconvenience you have is too sacred for me to know apparently!" Tails suddenly swatted at his hand and glared at him,

"But Gaia forbid I go to bed five minutes after your arbitrary bedtime!"

Sonic, too shocked to respond and Tails finally over with his patience, wordlessly stared at each other. Tension seemigly materialized in the physical form between them with something more sinister seeping underneath it.

Neither of them spoke up. Instead, Tails' scowl dropped and went back to just a mildly annoyed yet very serious pout.

Now Sonic would just classify this as a symptom of lack-of-sleep-crankiness his little bro suffered from quite often, but it always took a bit more than two deflection attacks to get him to snap like this (was he really wearing everyone's patience so much?) Not to mention he wasn't a big fan of how annoyed he felt at his little bro either. Something about this was off. Again.

Seven hours of trying to get his mind off things wasted apparently.

"No. You'll try to hightail it out before morning and avoid everyone until you think we've all forgotten about how miserable and tired you look. Again."

"Hey, look I get that you're upset with me and all that, but if you keep this up I feel like I'll say something I shouldn't and regret it once I get some sleep in my system, so I'd call it a night and–"

Tails rudely interrupted him. And while Sonic appreciated the concern, he truly did, he.. well yea fine Tails' got a point. Now Sonic won't say that was exactly his plan but he would most likely end up doing that.

"You'll tell me what's up now or- or I won't sleep. Ever."

God fucking damn this kid.

Sonic pressed his lips into a thin like stared at him, just as Tails did the same. Neither of them dared to blink either, and usually, that would lead to the brothers letting go of the argument and dissolving into giggles and snorts, but not this time. Something made it feel like laughing in this situation was impossible.

It was obvious Tails waited for him to crack but this was an immovable object against a more persistent, immovable object. Yet between stubbornness and little brother pettiness, versus impatience of a tired hedgehog was an obvious winner and Sonic ended up breaking the eye contact and throwing it down towards the striped yellow and blue rug that sat under the couch.

Good, ok fine. But don't you dare blame him for fearing that someone is gonna shank you out of nowhere anytime and no matter where you are almost for full twenty-four hours.

He could see the snarky victorious glee in Tails' eye and Sonic bitterly accepted defeat, trying to gather his words.

He guessed that another way to avoid an argument was to just spill it, but at this point, it was an actual hit to his pride. Whatever. Tails asked for this.

"Do...Do you have a feeling that someone has been watching you?"

"Not really? No." Tails tilted his head slightly after the initial shock of him actually managing to break through to Sonic.

"Is that what's got you so on edge?"

The hedgehog nodded, partially regretting to finally confess about something so trivial.

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"Didn't think t'was that important." Sonic shrugged. The cat was out of the bag so might as well. He could brush the feeling of being an unreasonable asshole about it under the rug though, you just can't win in some situations.

Tails merely facepalmed in defeat and mumbled "Of course you didn't" under it.

"What? if someone has a problem with me, they better take it up to my face no?" Sonic managed to put up some semblance of a fake cheerful attitude into his tone to levitate the suffocating heaviness the workshop fell under ever since he got in. He landed a gentle elbow into the fox's arm which consequently shook the other one off his face.

"If you truly feel like you've been stalked this whole time, at this point, whoever it is most likely has more than enough information about you to be just as confident about taking it 'up to your face' you idiot."

Tails didn't return his attitude in the slightest if the exasperated voice and tired eyes were a lure to anything. Sonic could only manage a nervous chuckle in response

"Yea, I guess, I guess you're right."

"Guess? C'mon, I'm always right!" Finally, some light returned to Tails' eyes at that "Though I'm not sure if I want to be this time." It went out just as fast.

Sonic sighed as words came to him easier than he thought they would

"I really just didn't say anything because I worried it might be nothing." Tails gave him a condescending side eye "And in hindsight, that was a really stupid way to think." And then he scoffed with the same sarcastic energy.

"It's not like you ever not think stupid."

Tails grumbled and leaned into the armrest away from Sonic.

"You hate it when I go on analysis spires and here you are, doing the same thing except in the opposite direction and with no evidence to back things up."

The hedgehog snorted

"Really? 'Analisys spires'? Is that what you call 'catastrophizing everything' now?"

"Well hey at least I take into account the potential risks always." Tails playfully jabbed his finger into Sonic's shoulder "Unlike someone!"

Playfully. That unnerving edge in his voice was gone. Even if Sonic still felt like any smile or laugh had to be disingenuous and forced, it lifted some of the burden off his chest.

After that, they sunk into a bit more peaceful form of silence. It still felt just a few shades off but hey, Sonic will take what he's given.

He looked over at Tails sitting practically on the opposite side of the couch, tired blue eyes stared forward onto nothing particular and he sat hunched over the couch's armrest, his double tails serving as a blanket.

Sure now he can confidently say this whole ordeal was behind them but it still didn't feel quite right.

Sonic reached a hand over to the kit, but stopped himself halfway. Should he?

"Hey." Stupid question of course he should, that's his little brother sulking about.

"We'll get to the bottom of this eventually."

Sonic leaned closer to the kit and ruffled his already messy bangs. The quiet, barely suppressed giggles that followed smothered over any doubts showing their ugly heads. Sonic scooted all the way to the fox, and then took it one step over and squished the other between his body and the armrest.

"He-hey get your big butt away from me, you're crushing me!"

"No can do little grumpy sir!"

Tails tried his mightiest to push the hedgehog away while he was uselessly locked in a side hug. Suddenly his legs were swiped from underneath him and a horrifying realization followed. His attempts to kick himself free were futile as within seconds he was held trapped in his big bro's arms.

What followed was pure horror and torture.

Sonic rocked the younger from side to side, who periodically got his head hit against the couch, Sonic's mouth that planted an annoying kiss on his forehead and then his knees in his face from how over-exaggerated the movement was.

"Not fair!" Tails cried and then bit a bluff strike into the air, too close to Sonic's nose for his liking, but that didn't deter him one bit.

It was all but adorable actually.

Sonic's shit-eating grin didn't falter in the slightest and he finally felt like it was genuine.

"One day you'll be strong enough to break free I'm sure of it." Nothing but pure, unchallenged smugness radiated off of the hedgehog as he squeezed the ball of golden fluff in his arms. He tried to sneak in yet another kiss when he was stopped dead in his tracks by a paw slapped over his mouth.

When has that sly fox managed to free his arm from his inescapable grasp!? Sonic couldn't let that act of rebellion stay for long, so he poked the younger's side with his thumb. Tails then immediately recoiled with an involuntary giggle escaping his mouth while he was easily subdued again.

"Nah-not fair! Cheater! You're cheating!"

"Using my enemy's weaknesses against them in battle is not cheating!" Sonic proudly proclaimed and drilled his thumb into his brother's side one more time which rewarded him with a couple of strained snorts and giggles from the other. Chaos Tails was trying to stay angry so badly that it was comical.

"Stah'aap!!" Tails cried and perhaps Sonic did feel a pang of sympathy for the poor fox. Dare he even say, have mercy.

"Let go-!" Completely desperate, the other now tried to swat at Sonic with his namesakes. All it succeeded at was shove a face full of fur into the hedgehog's face and maybe that was the goal all along.

After splattering the hair out of his mouth Sonic grinned when seeing the obvious fake pout Tails was putting on.

"Only after you smile." Sonic teased and planted yet another kiss on his whining brother's forehead, who then promptly slapped his face with his tails yet again.

"Oh c'mon smile a little?"

Tails frowned.

"Itty-bitty smirk?"

Tails frowned even harder.

"Pleaseee, just for a split second?"

Somehow, Tails' frown deepened even further and he ended up looking like the picture definition of a "comically grumpy baby." Sonic paid it no mind tho, he'd rather have a grumpy baby brother than a genuinely angry one. Whatever it takes to get a smile on that little muzzle of his, even if it meant he had to be a little bit annoying to get there. He could see it won't be long before the little guy breaks.

He gradually laxed his hold and Tails either didn't notice, or was hoping Sonic would lower his guard so he could escape.

Either way, the veil of dread and unease was all but gone and forgotten as he held his little bro in his arms, now just gently swaying back and forth with his chin rested atop the other's head.

Chaos when was the last time he just held him like this? Hmm gotta be pretty long ago now that he's wondering, better savor the moment before Tails ruins it by "being too big for hugs and cuddles now" which was pure nonsense in Sonic's correct opinion.

But as seconds ticked by and Tails did not move or make a sound, the hedgehog couldn't sit still in anticipation any longer and finally leaned back to look over.

What he found was his lill' bro fast asleep, with the most peaceful expression on his face. A fond smile made its way across Sonic's muzzle.

Perhaps there was nothing stopping him from following suit. This was a long day after all and maybe, just maybe, now that some things were settled and he wasn't sleeping alone, he'd get some proper rest at last.

[galebrainrot2024]

Gale x Tav Enemies to Lovers Part 16

Read on Ao3 Okay - we are cooking!! These next few might be a bit short only because I want to keep the writing flow going and give you all content! Enjoy!

Gale chewed on his lip while he watched his companions. He lingered in the shadows outside his tent, their whispers drifting on the waves of the night’s air to him. As he heard snapshots of their thoughts, his chest tightened and swelled with something close to gratitude and disbelief. He wasn't sure he should entertain it.

Despite how off-putting Gale knew he may have been at times with his know-it-all attitude and dumping information no one requested at the slightest inconvenience of hiccup, as well as his general sense of brooding and moodiness, most of them seemed distraught by Mystra’s message. It was a pleasant surprise, and rather humbling - so much so that Astarion’s general lack of concern hardly ruffled him. 

He noticed Tav seemed uncharacteristically quiet. His heart rumbled, his throat hot and tight with emotion. The shadows beneath the moon played across her features, despondency etched into the lines of her face. 

The sensation of falling gripped Gale and threw him into the cavity of unknown, of what may not come to pass. Gale realized that he had precious little time left, hardly any time at all to unravel the puzzle of his emotions and the weight of feeling he had. 

What if he never got a chance to tell her any of it? What if he never had the opportunity to feel the tenderness of her lips to his, the warmth of her skin, the silk of her hair… he trembled and ran a hand over his face. And then there was the matter of Astarion and their complicated relationship. No one had any claim to Tav, he thought, and perhaps with my death looming on the horizon she'll be receptive to my charm... Not that I have much to start with - the end of existence nipped at his heels and he could not afford to dilly-dally.

Even though Karlach insisted Tav would often flirt with him, Gale didn’t feel like there was appropriate evidence. Mortals. Always mucking it up: they have such difficulty recognizing what’s put plainly in front of them. 

A part of Gale thought his companions would be elated - to have a clear solution to their problem and really, the ability to save Faerûn rather neatly all things considered. All it required was Gale’s sacrifice. He shuddered and brushed his lip. The darkness cast a substantial cover on him, despite some glances in his direction they all seemed to glance right through him as if he were already a ghost. 

Gale was in a state of disbelief Mystra asked this of him. He festered on Elminster’s final words - “even fate can break upon the shores of will.” His thoughts threatened to unravel him, until Gale noticed his favorite pair of eyes. They found him, nestled in the dark. 

Tav. He inhaled through his teeth when she caught his gaze and he felt his lips curl upward feeling self-conscious and waved awkwardly. He felt his body grow hot at how bumbling he must seem. 

He was prepared to hide back in his tent when he saw her rise tentative as if seeking permission. Gale gave a subtle nod and watched as she slipped away in the heat of conversation. Everyone was so focused on Karlach’s booming tirade they didn’t notice her slip away. 

Or at least, they seemed not to from where Gale stood. He felt acutely aware of his body, unsure of what to do with himself as she closed the gap. He felt his fingers mindlessly pull at his sleeves and he felt too warm, the fabric itching his skin. Gale pulled at his collar and moisture pooled on his brow. 

As she stood in front of him, it seemed the air was sucked away from between them as if in a vortex. She looked so beautiful in her air of somberness. Their silence stretched on until Tav cleared her throat, lifting her eyes to meet his. Her lips parted as if to speak and then she closed them again, bringing a hand to her neck. Gale exhaled and his lips turned. 

“Not exactly sure what to say with death clawing at my door?” 

Gale was relieved by her subtle snort. “Something like that. So..” 

“So..” Gale said, mimicking her. They both stood closer than needed and yet there was still a cavern between them. He shrugged his shoulders and sighed and brushed his fingers against his lower lip. “I’m sorry that don’t have much in the way of sage ramblings to offer at present.” Gale’s eyes rolled at his clumsiness. 

His body jolted when her fingers brushed against his upper arm. “How are you feeling?” 

Gale’s eyebrows shot up and he smirked, tilting his head. “How am I feeling? Well let’s see.. there’s how I ought to be feeling and then what I’m actually feeling and once more I must admit I haven’t a clue. It all seems quite daunting. The opportunity for forgiveness… I just need to be willing to let go.” 

He was surprised by her fury, “Please don’t tell me you’re considering it.” 

“I already did - did you expect my answer to change in a matter of hours?” Although he was teasing, a coldness seeped into his tone. “I don’t expect you to understand.” 

“I don’t.” Another surprise that made Gale curious. “I don’t understand why you’d be willing to throw your life away. I mean I do, but it’s not that simple… what about Tara? Your mother? Us?” 

“Us?” Gale’s voice was low and he tilted his head down, his eyes filling with desperation. He noted the flash in her eyes despite her attempt to quickly avert her gaze. 

Tav blushed and it filled Gale with a desire to kiss her. Gods, she looked so amazing when she was flushed. He cleared his throat as Tav gestured broadly at the companions. “Us.” Although Gale thought he heard a disappointment or uncertainty in her voice. As if that was not her original intention. 

Seeing as how he had a habit of digging too far into things, he decided to brush it aside. “Ah. Well. I’m confident everyone will be fine, especially with the threat from illithids now moot.” Perhaps it was a trick of the night, but Gale thought he saw veiled despair and rage within her eyes. 

“How can you say that?” Her voice was small, threatening to break. 

Gale looked upwards, admiring the stars because if he looked at her he would be unable to think and gestured upwards. “How can I not? Look at this canvas - an infinite brush stroke of the Astral Plane, the Heavens, and beyond. One mortal life is an insignificant blink in their existence.” Gale’s voice caught. As he spoke, Tav must have stepped closer to him their arms rested against one another. Space was nonexistent between the two. Gale felt his body warm, the spark rushing through him in a burst of energy, of longing. 

It was such a human experience. Marveling within the moment, he couldn’t recall a time his body responded quite like this - a time where he felt every fiber of his being quake, heard his pulse, felt it alive in his neck. Gale’s mortal body did not react this way to Mystra. Yes, his mind did in ephemeral moments,  but as Gale struggled to make the comparison between the sensations he realized it was impossible. To be human was a uniquely beautiful and sorrowful experience. While he had lain with Mystra in abstract ways, touched in his very nervous system by her caress, this was different. 

Now, as he stood side by side with Tav, his blood pumping and the heat of her skin encouraging his, it all threatened to drown him. He felt ridiculous and mystified, unable to break the trance of the moment. Despite his minds plea, his body could not respond. It was such a rush Gale wondered why he’d lain with a Goddess to begin with. There had been so much missing. 

“Gale, you cannot be serious…” her voice allowed his mind to seize hold, and he looked down at her. 

“I am being serious.” He inhaled and looked down. As he looked into her eyes, he imperceptibly licked his bottom lip - she smelled of dirt and sweat, with a light citrus undertone. It made his core throb and ran his fingers along his neck as if to itch. The skin was pricking, hot, begging for a touch that was not his. He realized he had her rapt attention. “What is the alternative? We hardly know what we’re up against. With what little information we have, we know this foe is something else entirely. Why else would a God intervene? You know as well as I do that Ao does not take kindly to divine intervention of this sort. We’ve been granted a glimpse of what lingers for us on the horizon and yet, the totality of the situation is well beyond our comprehension. So, Tav,” as he said her name he felt how lustfully it dripped from his lips, wanting to repeat it like a prayer. “I ask again - what is the alternative?” 

As he gazed at her, he watched her head tilt as if to beckon him, their closeness making ignoring her smell impossible. Gale wanted to reach his hand up to brush against her cheek, into her hair and cup her face to his. He wanted to taste her, to allow his tongue to roll over hers deliciously. He wanted to kiss the salt off her body, to caress every inch of her body with his fingers, to know her. He inhaled slowly and flicked his eyes to her lips for a moment before he stepped back. How selfish it would be of him, especially now, to offer her even a glimmer of hope. 

[ceresfromnationstates]

Character Ref Sheets: Charles E. Calvin

Charles Enfield Calvin

Nicknames: Charlie, Chuck, TSgt. Calvin, The Bold Action Man

Age: 28 (As of mid 2019)

Birthplace: Fayetteville, NC

Current Location: Nellis AFB, NV. Previously Fort Campbell, KY

Nationality: Canadian (Quebecois) American

Physical description: Athletic build, Red eyes (White skin), White cre cut hair, Minor scar on right cheek.

Bio: He's now working alongside the USAF for the past few weeks or so. He misses being stationed back in Kentucky.

A young, career serviceman who seemingly enjoys his job for the most part.

Has many fond memories of his childhood. Nothing very traumatic, but the ocassional memories of his parents fighting still stick with him.

His parents are now in their 60s, and he'd visit them whenever the opportunity presents itself.

Joined the Army to follow in his father's footsteps, and also to earn money.

Entered service after first semester of college.

Has a keen interest in everything aviation-related since he was young.

Never piloted an aircraft until he entered service.

Sometimes he's extroverted, sometimes he keeps things to himself.

Feels down 99% of the time, though this can be dispelled by anything that makes him happy.

Not very good at socializing with others, thus he sometimes prefers being alone.

Has a very broken sense of humor

Likes surfing the web and playing video games in his free time.

Prefers to keep himself hidden on the web.

Likes collecting various trinkets and paraphernalia from time to time.

Always remembers to keep his base apartment room or barracks bunk bed tidy.

Is one of those people who are concerned with keeping their quarters tidy.

Has a million things in his head, yet can still focus on one thing.

Has no knowledge regarding timelines and the like.

Among his more "interesting" friends are Henry.

More concerned with things other than Henry.

Though he almost broke, he still survived bootcamp. Getting yelled at by his superiors by now are a minor inconvenience.

Quick to follow orders an will do so to a T.

He still has a conscience to not follow questionable orders, which he gained through his prior experiences.

Has only participated in 2 skirmishes with the Toppat Clan throughout his years in uniform.

Has earned the respect of Gen. Galeforce himself during Gov't operations against the Toppats.

Was previously deployed to Niger for 8 months in 2013 and Iraq for 11 months in 2015.

Has been to Fort Campbell, Kadena Airbase, Hohenfels Training Area, Nellis AFB.

Most often pilots the UH-60, though on other ocassions, he has also piloted an OH-58D and AH-64E.

He is also a Crew Chief, meaning that he can talk to anyone outside the cockpit, only when the Chief warrant officer isn't sitting in the cabin.

Since his car is all the way back in Fayetteville, he would rent second-hand cars at whatever place he's stationed at.

Itching to go back to Kentucky and leave Nevada behind once his stint with the Air Force is over.

Backstory (coming soon)

< Henry | Masterpost | Ellie >

[scrypticmetal]

Rebuilt

Chapter 1

Synopsis: You are the current owner of Fazbear Entertainment and founder of Freddy Fazbear's Mega Pizzaplex. After finally striking gold and basking in your success, a new location, Fredbear’s Frights, pops up. As more rumors spread of your affiliation with the sorry excuse for a horror attraction, you set off to sabotage the buisness before it can even open its doors.

(Warning: Alternate Universe, the timeline is ALL OVER THE PLACE.)

Reader is a 43 year old trans man but the gender is left relatively open for the most part

Also posted on ao3!:

You jammed the crowbar into the window, cramming it open. The window creaked in defiance, giving you a damn hard time. You had to kick the thing open. Finally, you opened it enough to squeeze yourself into the building.

This stupid horror attraction has done nothing but cause you trouble since it opened. You promised the public since day one you weren’t here to make fun of the lives lost and this fucker was screwing it up for you COMPLETELY. News reporters somehow mistaking this as one of your projects even though this place wasn’t even affiliated with Fazbear Entertainment!

TWO MONTHS AGO

You sat at your long desk, cluttered with notepads and sticky notes reminding you of everything that’s due. You procrastinated paying most of the buisness expenses and now you were paying the price… Literally and figuratively. All the tiny numbers on the computer screen were practically making you go crosseyed.

A knock at the door disturbs you from your work. One more minor inconvenience and you’re going to go ballistic, you groan internally.

“Come in!” you yell.

In steps Brandon. He’s a college student who’s been interning down at the workshop, watching the work that gets done on the animatronics. However, he doesn’t do any of the real repairs. All maintenance employees go through very strict training before being allowed to handle the animatronics.

You wheel your desk chair away from the monitor, “Brandon, what a surprise! What’s up?”

“I don’t mean to bother you Mr. Bossman, but I’ve got a wicked idea. What you got goin on here is great, but the people itch for more! I think we can make a totally wicked haunted house type thing. It’ll have all the old relics and-”

“No.” You cut him off before he keeps going.

“Whaatt? I thought you were all about innovation and new ideas man?”

“Fazbear Entertainment™️ is not going to capitalize on the death of others.”

“That’s not- that’s not what I’m trying to do man” he holds his hands up in protest.

You cross your arms on the table, rolling your eyes. “It’s not what you MEANT to do, but that is what you’re doing. Treating REAL deaths like a cheap horror thrill.”

“You’re putting words in my mouth, man!”

“I’m not going to entertain this conversation any longer, Brandon. Get back to work.” You sigh, sliding your chair back behind the monitor.

“I’m not going back to work because-” You hear a click noise and Brandon’s name tag smacks onto the middle of your keyboard. “I QUIT!!”

You look up at Brandon unamused. Is this supposed to be a threat? As if you’ll actually care that his mediocre ass is headed elsewhere. You had engineering students from just about every state begging for a position at the pizzaplex.

Brandon goes to storm out but then it hits you. You stand up out of your chair, peeking over the monitor, “WAIT!”

Brandon crosses his arms and stops, turning around with a smug look.

“If you use Fazbear Entertainment’s name for anything related to that attraction, I’ll sue you for everything you’re worth.” You glare at him.

Brandon’s face falls and he leaves without another word. The door clicks shut behind him and you sink back into your chair.

“He’s going to get a rude awakening” you laugh quietly to yourself.

From the day you got your hands on this company, everyone was trying to paint you out to be the bad guy. You saw the vision for what Fazbear’s could be! You had nothing to do with murder! But you were only let off the hook for one reason only: you yourself were a victim. You were able to get the news on your side as someone who could understand where the people were coming from. But Brandon doesn’t have any honorable ties to vouch for his cause. They’ll cancel his ass before he can even open for business. Maybe you’ll have to keep your eyes peeled on Twitter for news about this.

CURRENT TIME

"It felt depraved; busting into this sad excuse for a haunted house. You slipped through he window, dropping to the floor with a hard thud.

Groaning, you push yourself up off the dusty ground.

"I'm getting too old for this shit."

You hear your own whining bounce and reverberate off the dusty, cold concrete lining the inside of the complex.

You try to dust off the grime from your face but it sticks to your sweat. You get back up on your feet and wander around. This place is so gross. The first thing you notice about this place is the smell. It’s wet and muggy and smells like pure rot. Everything has this weird greenwash. Sure, the vibes are creepy, but what’s scarier is how much of a health violation this place is. “Aaandd that’s mold” you shine your flashlight at the wall. Black vines of mold reach from the floor up to the ceiling.

You put the flashlight in your back pocket and fish out the latex gloves you brought with you. You are NOT touching anything in here with your bare hands.

Wandering from room to room, you can’t help but stop to check out every artifact Brandon had managed to scrounge up. He had some legit stuff buried among a sea of fakes. You were honestly surprised at the dedication to find this stuff. (And the balls. You tried you very best to stay FAR away from the previous locations)

Something shifts behind you and you whip around to see what the noise was from. You’re greeted with an empty hallway. “Tch, this place probably has rats too.” You mumble, turning back around.

A foxy mask at the opposite end of the hallway stops you in your tracks. You walk up, taking the mask off the light fixture and examining the inside of the head. Yeah, damn it’s official too. “Long time no see bud” you chuckle, twisting the mask to face you.

“I’d love to stay and chat but I’ve got bigger fish to fry right now, Captain.”

You wobble on your tippy toes trying to put the foxy head back on the light.

You continue wandering around, the place is pretty lack luster. Actually this place is really boring; the scare factor wore off pretty quickly. Maybe you have nothing to worry about. If Twitter doesn’t get this place shut down, the health department will surely get his ass.

A long ear-piercing clang of metal scraping metal reverberates down the hall. You nearly hurt your neck from how quickly you turn around. A hunched over rabbit animatronic grabs onto the wall, head hung low. Its neck cranes up with a loud creak. He looks like a mangled Bonnie…of sorts? Its shoulder cocks sideways unnaturally as it shifts its weight on the hand grasping at the wall. Before you can react, it dashes towards you at a terrifying speed. You screech, attempting to run from the beast.

His hand yanks you by your arm, crashing you into his metal frame. Everything goes in a blur as you’re whipped around to face him and slammed against the wall. His rough jagged hands contract around your neck, lifting you off the ground. You flail hour legs, trying to kick at his shoulders.

“Wait- WAIT” you plead. You want to say more but you can’t choke another word out.

To your surprise his hands relented their iron grip, but stayed firmly around your neck. He’s cognizant! Maybe you can reason with this thing!

Your cough and wheeze, trying to catch your breath. His putrid stench was overwhelming your senses, suffocating every jagged breath you take. “I can get you out of here” you say in between coughs. God… you can taste the coppery rot in your mouth. Your shoulders shake as you fight back from dry heaving.

He tilts his head, narrowing his eyes at you.

“It’s cruel keeping you here like this. They’re treating you like an animal in a zoo! I can get you away from this trashheap!” He stares at you blankly. No response. Think of something else! “Better yet, I can fix this” you thud your knuckle against his tattered arm.

“New suit, new life, sounds like a steal to me” you feel like you’re in the investment room again, bumbling like an idiot to try to sell your idea.

His left hand lets go of your neck, clanking his knuckles against his torso, “There’s no fixing this” his gravely voice seethes.

“Oh god no!” you laugh nervously. “It’ll be a new suit entirely. New endo, new casing, it’ll have all the bells and whistles you could possibly desire!” Of course, everything comes with a catch, “But you have to promise not to kill me” you claw your nails against the hand still squeezing against your neck. It ain’t much of a catch; he’s getting all the benefits here!What more could he want?!!

His hand still stays firmly planted, scraping against your skin, “Who the fuck are you supposed to be exactly?”

Tough crowd…

“(Y/n) (L/n), Fazbear Entertainment’s current owner and overseeing repairman for the California branch” you slide your hand into your back pocket, slipping your buisness card out of your wallet. You wave the colorful card in front of him. He snatches the paper with his free hand, examining it closely with squinted eyes. You watch the lights of his eyes glide from side to side.

He looks back at you quizzically. “You? You’re the owner?” His face is unreadable but you could hear him holding back laughter.

“Yes” the corner of your mouth twitches in annoyance.

A loud gargled wheeze emits from him, making you jump. He chokes out a booming laugh, losing his composure making his hand slide you down the wall, finally letting you plant your feet back on the ground.

He covers his mouth with his hand, still choking out short laughs. He looks at you again and booms with laughter again. It’s a deep throaty laugh that rattles his shoulders. You sit there watching him in irritation.

“Ok, ok,” he wheezes through stifled laughs, attempting to… catch his breath?… he straightens back up, meeting your eyes again.

“If you’re the owner…” he stops and thinks, “Then why am I here?” He gestures at the building. His hand closes in on your neck again.

“Fredbear’s Frights isn’t affiliated with Fazbear entertainment!” You speak in a panic, trying to reason with him again before he chokes you out again.

“I have nothing to do with this place. This place is barely legal to begin with! He got this place through stupid fucking loopholes in copyright laws!” you blabber.

“If you’re not affiliated, then why are you here?”

Christ, he’s is just like everyone else: painting you out to be the bad guy. HE’S the bad guy here!! He’s fucking psycho!!!!

“Everyone’s trying to blame me for this stupid sorry fucking excuse of a haunted house! Copy-write laws be damned, I need this place GONE.” you wrangle against his grip like a fish out of water. Your patience is running thin. Can’t he just take your offer?!

“If you’re lying to me. Know that I will find you.” He flicks your buisness card in your face before releasing his grip on your neck. Your knees buckle under the sudden weight. Rubbing your sore neck, you take in a deep breath, savoring the feeling of being able to breathe normally again.

You straighten out your button-up shirt,

“Is there somewhere we can sit and talk?”

He hums and walks toward the direction he crawled out of earlier. You follow carefully behind him.

“I never got a name for you.” You speed up, getting in front of him, walking backwards as you keep talking. “I can’t say I recognize this suit’s model. It looks antique.”

he rolls his eyes, putting on a mocking tone, “Shouldn’t you already know. Since you’re the owner and all”

“Well you’re obviously not Bonnie. He’s purple. And you’re not springbonnie. He’s yellow. Not really sure what other bunny animatronics there are to compare you to.”

“Firstly, Bonnie is not purple. He’s blue.” He corrects. You go to open your mouth but puts his index over your mouth to shush you. Ew ew ewww, his finger touched your tongue. The fur was crusty but damp at the same time.

“But you were almost there. Springbonnie would be correct.” He huffs.

“See, I know what I’m talking abou-“ you trip over stray boxes in the hallway, falling flat on your back with your arms sprawled out.

The animatronic steps into your view. His ear flops as he looks down to face you. That permanent jagged smile on his maw suddenly feels so smug. “Yeah, you seem to know exaaactly what you’re doing” he mocks.

You have to fight yourself from telling him to fuck off. You’re quick to get back up on your feet. All this falling and being thrown around is going to kill you tomorrow…

Finally, you reach the storage room. It’s a bit of a stuffy room. Most of the space is taken up by the metal table in the middle. And on the top left, there’s a squatty window just wide enough that you could squeeze through.

“So,” you sit down on the stool by the table, “Springbonnie —can I call you Springs?”

“Springtrap” he sits down across from you.

“What?”

“I go by springtrap”

“……..caaan I call you Springs?”

“No.” he deadpans.

“Okay, Springtrap. So, I’d like to lay a couple ground rules down first before we begin. I’d like to remind you of our deal that while you get a new body and a life outside of here, you cannot kill me or hurt me in any way.“

“I know”

“Just confirming” you shrug. Better safe than sorry, especially when it’s your own life on the line here.

“So we have a standard endoskeleton model that-”

Springtrap waves his hand to get your attention, “let me stop you there. This isn’t going to be any standard procedure.” He circles his hand around his chest.

“In case you haven’t noticed, hotshot, I’m not a robot. My corpse is part OF the suit.” He continues to talk to you like you’re stupid.

“Well, you sure as hell smell like a dead body, so I already figured.” You grimace.

“Actually, I would like to see what I’m working with, if you don’t mind?”

“Take me out to dinner before you ask to poke around my insides, freak.” He jests.

You bite back a laugh. He’s pissed you off way too many times for you to laugh at his joke.

He’s still chuckling to himself when you get to his side of the table. “Can I?” You point your flashlight down at his chest cavity.

Springtrap hesitantly nods. You flash the light inside the large gash in his chest.

It doesn’t help that your vision here is limited, but you can barely tell where his corpse stops and the endoskeleton begins. You knew the basics about the springlocks but you’d never actually encountered on of these suits in person before. This was total foreign territory to you. In a morbid way, you were intrigued. How fascinating that his body was still somewhat in tact. His chest still rises and falls taking ragged breaths. He breathes.

Your brain starts to pile with questions. How does he function? What all is still in tact? His intestines billow around his hips, hanging loosely. Can he eat? You can’t help but squish one of the intestines lightly. Suddenly, Springtrap grabs at your wrist, yanking it as far up as he can without popping your shoulder out of place. “Did I say you could touch me?” He seethes in your face; his nasty breath clouding up in your nostrils.

“Sorry! I didn’t mean to overstep” you yelp.

He drops your wrist. Your body is really taking a beating today huh? It’ll be a miracle if you aren’t bedbound tomorrow.

Speaking of tomorrow…

“I do have to inform you that unfortunately my time today is limited. I have work tomorrow and it’s quite a drive from here to the Pizzaplex. I hate to cut things so short but I do have a couple more questions before I leave!”

“Pizzaplex?”

“I can explain that tomorrow.” You wave him off. “But, I do need to know what exactly you’re looking for in a remodel. As I was saying before, we have a standard endoskeleton that can fit a variety of body types. You can choose whichever casing you like best. The color choice is of course up to you, and you can even change your animal if you wanna really switch things up!”

“I’ll stick with the yellow rabbit.”

“Suit yourself” you shrug.

“What do you mean by different body types? Do you have examples?” He crosses his legs and leans in closer.

You take out your phone, scrolling through your gallery for a good picture of the fazgang. Finally, you land on a picture from not too long ago. It was one of the work parties held for your assistant repair overseer, Ryan. He’d worked for the company back in the 80s but retired back in early June. You and Ryan are posed in front of the main four. Freddy is hugging both you and Ryan, Monty is throwing up the rock and roll hands with his tongue out, Roxy was slaying, and chica was being her bubbly self.

You show him the phone, watching his reaction. He freezes for a minute but then takes the phone, putting it super close to his face.

“Did you make them?” He asks bewildered.

“Yeah- well. I’ve had some help here and there but yeah, the designs are mine. Pretty cool right?” You give a smile. A genuine smile this time. They were your proudest work.

“where’s the fox?” He quizzes.

“Long story.”

“Where’s Bonnie?”

You cringe, “Even longer story”

“I’m not seeing anything I want personally. Do you have anything a little less…” he motions a very exaggerated version of the glamrock’s dorito shape.

“You’re asking for something custom?”

“Yes.”

You sigh, “you drive a very hard bargain, you know that?”

“I know what I want.” He shrugs.

“What is this thing anyways?” He waves your phone that he still held in his hand.

“That would be my phone.”

“THIS? This is a phone?? You can take pictures on this?”

“It can do a lot more than that.” You laugh.

His absence of technical knowledge was somewhat refreshing actually. Usually, you’re forced into rooms with insufferable tech bros most of the time.

“When did they start making these? What….” He goes quiet for a moment, “What year is it exactly?” He looks at you with genuine concern.

You raise your eyebrows. He’s really never seen anything remotely close to this, huh? You hold your hand out, gesture for him to hand your phone back. He plops it back into your palm. Glancing at the time, 5:25. It’s getting way too late…

“What year do you think it is?”

Springtrap sits, thinking, “I’d guess maybe… 1999?”

“Ohhh you’ve got a lot to catch up on… it’s 2024”

Springtrap’s eyes go wide and his jaw goes slack, revealing what’s left of his skull behind the mask. This is the first time you’ve seen him express an emotion beyond anger and entitlement.

“I’m sure you’ve got a lot of questions. Think of all you wanna ask and I’ll have all your answers tomorrow. I do apologize but it really is getting late.” You almost feel bad for leaving him to sit in shell shock like this. Almost…. Actually, he deserves it after how he’s treated you all night.

Before leaving the room, you realize you never asked what time would be best to meet again, “How does 11:00 pm sound for tomorrow?”

“I can only free roam from 12 am to 6 am” he mumbles.

“Damn, that sucks. 12 it is then!” You turn around and leave, waving without looking back at him.

12 works better for you, one less hour you have to spend looking at his ugly mug.

[stranger-rants]

Continuation of the Birthday Series! This is pure tooth-rotting fluff. I will not apologize. (I accidentally published this not meaning too. It's not finished, but I guess I will split this into two parts then 🥲)

The Finale to the Birthday Series Part I of II

March 29, 1991.

Billy turns 25. It’s a Friday.

Steve curls around Billy’s naked form, anxious to tell him the news. He’s been awake for what feels like hours, excitement radiating through his body. They’ve been talking about going on vacation to California for his birthday which happened to be during Spring break. They discussed it months in advance, and the closer it got to the date of their trip the more homesick Billy got. Billy was constantly pacing, staring into nothing, and huffing at minor inconveniences.

Steve could tell he was just itching to dip his toes into the wet sand of San Diego’s beaches again. At the beginning of the month, Steve told Billy they’d be renting a house instead of staying in a “shitty” hotel. Billy said he didn’t care as long as it was close to the ocean. Steve promised to deliver, and he would deliver… more than Billy knows or expects, which is why, now, Steve is about to jump out of his skin if Billy doesn’t wake up soon.

Steve decides Billy has been asleep for too long. Steve gently squeezes him - one hand on his boob, the other snaked around his belly - and Billy finally stirs from his slumber. He groans when he opens his eyes and the sunlight from the window hits his face.

“Goddamn,” Billy yawns, “s’fucking bright.”

“Good morning, birthday boy!”

Steve squeezes him so tight that Billy taps out, gasping for air.

“Wake-y, wake-y, handsome baby!”

“Ugh, shut up…”

Billy jabs Steve in the side, and Steve shouts, “Oh, you have wounded me! I’ve no choice but to defend myself!”

They roll around, wrestle, play-fight until they’re both in hysterics. Steve gets on top of Billy, holding Billy’s wrists against his pillow as he leans down for a kiss. Billy melts against Steve’s lips, warmth flooding his limbs. He sighs contently, blue eyes meeting brown. Steve smiles above him, so deeply in love with him.

“You ready?”

“Yeah,” Billy nods, “as I’ll ever be”

The flight is nerve wracking for Billy. He’s never actually been on a plane. Well, that’s a lie. He was air lifted once to a government facility when he was actively dying, but it’s not like he was conscious at the time. Steve holds his hand through most of the flight, brushing a thumb over his knuckles to soothe him.

They make it to their “rental” in California by night. It’s a three bedroom, two bath with ocean views. The master bedroom has big windows and French doors leading out to a small deck for sitting. They’re both dead tired, having just enough energy for handjobs in the shower before passing out in their big bed. In the morning, Steve finds Billy sitting outside on the deck in the sun, head tilt back and hair and skin shining under its rays. Billy is like a fish being returned to the water after struggling to breathe in a fisherman’s grasp.

Billy belongs here.

Steve is certain of that, especially when Billy takes him around town their first full day there. He shows him his former haunts, telling Steve all about the stupid shit he got into with his friends. God. Friends. Billy had friends. Billy shows him the garage he used to “work” at when he was just a kid. An old, big and burly man with the name Hank embroidered into his shirt stares at Billy for a good long minute from the open doors of the garage. He asks, “That you, Billy?” and when Billy confirms, the man nearly breaks Billy’s back in a bone crushing hug.

Hank says he could come back and work for him some time. Billy says thanks, but that he's just on vacation. Lives in Indiana now. Hank says that's too bad, but if ever decided to move back the job is there for him.

Steve thinks that's nice that Billy has a place like this. Here. Where he belongs. It eases his anxiety a bit.

The next day, Steve and Billy get tacos at a taquería on the boardwalk. Billy is a bit of a taco snob, and orders for them both thinking he's cool for knowing just enough Spanish to read off a menu. Pescado. Carnitas. Birria - Steve thinks that one is his favorite, though Billy wont tell him what's in it. He just shrugs and bites into the taco, brothy sauce dripping down his forearm. Then he moans. Loudly.

They are delicious, Steve thinks. Better than the fast food tacos he gets in the "hard shell" they have back in Hawkins, which Billy will not eat. The first time they ever had "Taco Night" with the gang, Billy got mad that Steve didn't buy the corn tortillas (they didn't have those at the store, he tried to explain) and he nearly crucified Steve for not bothering to cook the flour ones. After biting into the corn tortillas, he can see why.

Steve loves that they're Billy's comfort food. They remind him of California. Where he belongs. Home.

The day after that, they go to an aquarium.

Billy always swears he's not a nerd, but Steve is starting to doubt that with the way Billy practically narrates each exhibit like it's his job. Even a few tourists wandering around listen in when Billy talks animatedly about deep sea creatures. One woman with her young grandson asks him what he meant by "bioluminescent" and Billy responds with "the fish fucking glow." She didn't seem too happy with that, but gave a polite nod before dragging her grandson away.

Billy is most excited about the sharks and rays exhibit. Steve asks about the fish hanging off of a big shark in the massive tank, and Billy goes on a tangent about remoras. He almost works himself into a frenzy when he gets into the misunderstood nature of sharks. Shouts, even. "Don't fuck with a shark, and they wont fuck with you!"

It's a motto everyone should live by.

Steve buys Billy a shark plush at the gift shop. It's huge, taking up a significant portion of their bed back at the rental. Billy spends every night on their vacation curled up with the damn thing. Steve almost regrets buying it, but the content look on Billy's face as he hugs the shark to his body is well worth it.