#i changed the brim of his hat too oop

[bucketfulofbabs]

IM NOT DEAD

take this moon I drew on the Daycare Friend Pick up magma

kinda redesigned his noddle arms, I wasn’t feeling the light blue so I made it a darker Indio-ish purple now.

I LOVE HOW THIS TURNED OUT ^^

@daycarefriendpickup

[lesawrites]

Writing Share Tag

Thank you @renasdoodles for the tag! Here's an excerpt from a short story I've been on and off working on for awhile! This is the beginning of the first scene. Not sure how good it is, but I've been having fun working on it!

Tarrent was nothing special, and he knew it. He was a balding middle-age man with a wife—Vanya—and three daughters—Elidi, Thia, and Kinsley. He had an office job that he thought was important but really wasn’t, and he earned enough to live comfortably. He thought he was doing well and that he was a good and respectable man, and perhaps he was. It didn’t really matter, in the grand scheme of things. What did matter, was the handful of minutes he spent with the three Seers that resided in his town of East Gondul. He was walking home from another day of work. It was a nice day, and his office was only a few blocks away from his home. At first, he watched the scenery. To his left, cars drove past, heading home from work, just like he was. To his right, there were residential homes where kids could be heard playing inside. It was the middle of summer, and they were enjoying the lack of schoolwork, just like his daughters were. In the distance ahead of him, he could faintly see mountains covered in trees where it was well-known faeries resided. He’d always wanted to get training on how to deal with them so he could go hiking with his family there, but he never found the time. It was dangerous to go there without the proper knowledge, and it cost too much to hire a guide. He checked the time—5:12PM—and remembered it was his night to prepare dinner for the family. He pulled out his phone and searched through a list of recipes he compiled to figure out what he wanted to make. He picked one, and carefully examined the ingredients. Was this something his kids would like? What about Vanya? Did he need to stop at the store for any ingredients? He couldn’t remember—were they out of salt? What about butter? He didn’t realize he wasn’t the only one walking on the sidewalk anymore. A group of three, walking side-by-side and taking up the entire width of the sidewalk, headed towards him. He didn’t notice, too focused on the recipe on his phone. It would have been expected that the three maneuver out of his way, distracted as he clearly was. He was already standing to the side, leaving plenty of room for them to do so, but these three had no intention of changing their course even slightly. So, inevitably, Tarrent and the three ran into each other. “Oop—sorry! Wasn’t watching where I was—” He noticed the bright clothes of Felicity first. Bright, colorful, not quite matching clothes with a smile that would liven any room if only it weren’t coming from her. Then, he noticed Eula’s wide-brimmed hat putting a shadow over her deceivingly kind-looking old face and her vintage-style green dress. And Bastian, who had a pale, acne-covered face and wore casual clothes, could easily pass for a normal teenager if it weren’t for his sinister smile that struck unease and fear to anyone around him. “Seers-” he stammered. He tried to remember any other time the three of them walked anywhere near this area, but couldn’t. Why did they choose today to walk a new route? “I’m so sorry,” he said quickly. “I- I should have been more careful. Are you alright? Can I help you at all? I’m so sorry for running into you, I will pay more attention in the future.” If it were anyone other than the Seers, he likely wouldn’t have felt the need to apologize at all. After all, he wasn’t blocking much of the sidewalk. If he were any more to the right, he would have been on the grass. But because it was the Seers, he had to be careful.

Tagging (no pressure at all!): @aminovels

I'm not mutuals/friends with enough other writers to tag more than one, but here's my contribution anyway!

[necroangelz]

🪽

i love hearung people infodump about stuff wven its stufg idk pleasr peladeplelfeldmf dies

( the angel apologizes for the late response to uur ask . it's been more than a week .oops . it's okay though because this infodump is HELLA LONG. /SRS )

i adore ppl who listen to infodumps > < /p gen

『 🪽 』

infodump about an oc

so, then, let me tell uu about the story of the half demon and the human she loved. (aka my demon Slayer ocs doomed Yuri )

this infodump is gonna require some prior knowledge to demon Slayer tbh > < I'm too lazy to explain details that are specific to the demon Slayer series Soz ... also my autocorrect might randomly capitalize Slayer so just ignore that

so let's introduce the characters !!

KAGUYA UBUYASHIKI

picrew

kaguya's name above links her playlist that i made a few yrs ago !! the playlist is quite old and i don't add new songs to it as much but i quite love it a lot > < i think the songs suit her well so there's no reason to change anything

at the start of the canon series (like lets say kaguya is in the story because thats how i wrote it lmao) Kaguya is 25 years old. as her surname "ubuyashiki" implies, she's an adopted member of the ubuyashiki clan. her mother was a pillar (a pillar of what, I'm not sure yet ahaha...) who disappeared before kaguyas birth, and left the infant Kaguya at the doorstep of the ubuyashikis. they decided to take her in and raise her alongside kagaya ubuyashiki, the head of the demon Slayer corps at the start of the series. Kaguya is 2 years older than kagaya. she is also his only surviving sibling as the rest of their siblings committed suicide years ago (canon fact i read just now lol)

she doesn't know much about her mother, and only knows her mother through the stories that others tell about her. unfortunately, due to their line of work, those who knew her mother end up dying until she's the only one carrying her mother's memory. there rumors though that her mother had an affair with a demon right before giving birth to kaguya

Kaguya hopes to find her father one day. how she will do it, what would she do (ask him why it had to be her mother, ask him about her mother, kill him, form a relationship with him, etc.); she doesn't know.

fun fact about her father: originally she was going to be the daughter of muzan kibutsuji. because this was a common trope i did before, i made ocs who were the daughters of villains. i didn't really regard the villains as parental figures because i was in love with them, but i suppose i enjoyed the family dynamic this trope would have. it was interesting to imagine the villain parent as being softer and kinder to their daughter (if they were on the same side [kaguya would not have been on the same side as muzan, obviously]), their daughter being spoiled, treated like royalty, and inheriting the same villainous traits from their parent(s)... i actually did have another oc who was muzan's daughter, although she didn't exist in the same "universe" as kaguya lolz

... looking back at my childhood and family history i can see why i was so in love with this trope

anyways. Kaguya harbors a secret that she doesn't hide well, so most people are aware of it, but out of respect no one accuses her of anything. Kaguya might just be a half demon half human (okay well take out the word "might" because she IS). she exhibits great inhuman strength and speed, she can heal quickly from any injury (it's not as fast as the regular demons' regeneration, but she can survive injuries that humans would usually die from. she recovers quickly from injuries and never gets sick. healers love her. literally. i used to ship her with shinobu.) she's also allergic to sunlight and wisteria. she gets severe rashes when she stands under the sun for too long and her body temperature rises quickly when she's outside. hence, she wears a wide brimmed hat to protect from the sun. i also think she would wear her universe's version of sunscreen. she also feels nauseous around wisteria. heaven knows what would happen if she ingested it.

she's sort of a prodigy when it comes to being a warrior/fighter. she began having rigorous training to fight demons since she was 8 and since then she has become a high profile demon Slayer. (that age might change... it used to be 6 but i thought 6 was too overkill lol. that's really young isn't it. she should be at the playground /ref)

I'm a bit undecided about what her breath style should be. it used to be breath of the Phoenix (based on the song the Phoenix by fall out boy) and i have a design of Kaguya with red robes which would fit that breath style more, but I've grown used to purple robes Kaguya! i know i could have Kaguya use breath of the Phoenix while wearing purple robes, but robes are often symbolic of a slayer's breath style, and purple robes just don't really give Phoenix vibes.

Kaguya with red robes ! i use this design in an AU of kaguya's story. i won't go into the AU in this post but all one needs to know is: it's based on moon knight. because i just so happened to have a moon knight phase around the same time i was really obsessed with kaguya's story

another breath style Kaguya could use though is wisteria breathing. i just thought of this recently so it's a wip idea, but it could be interesting bc wisteria breathing is strong against demons but it will also hurt her. wisteria and all that. it feels symbolic of her as a character as well.. somehow

anyways, Kaguya is aloof, keeps her distance from others, acts invulnerable and cold, although she has moments of warmth and can still show kindness to others. she prefers that others do not get to know her on a personal level and keeps everything professional. her brother and her 1 or 2 friends encourage her to loosen up and they've tried everything to get her to socialize with others.

she's desensitized to her pain and others'. the corps often gives her the hardest jobs simply because she's one of their best fighters, so she's used to long battles (and winning). she's not cocky when it comes to fighting, but she certainly knows that she will eventually win. she rarely shows fear. she knows that a scared warrior is not what people need.

obviously she has a dash of trauma added to her character.

i realized Kaguya is extremely similar to mizu from blue eye samurai. i didnt intend fur that—kaguya was made AGES before BES was released, but i think that's really cool lol

RISA AKAGI

kaguyas childhood friend who died at 25. she was a demon Slayer of a high rank, just like her dear friend. came from a rich family with parents that loved her; sadly they never understood her deep down. they didn't understand her dreams to pursue creative arts like writing and music. instead they wanted her to marry so they can become more wealthy.

her parents did arrange a marriage for her, but they lost their wealth anyway. and soon enough, risa lost her husband and her family.

risa was used to dealing with expectations. her peers often viewed her as a perfect unattainable standard. someone to watch and be jealous of. someone to compare themselves to.

she was a practical person who kept calm often. a lot of people liked her and thought she was easy to get along with. she always knew what to do, how to behave, to get people to like her and do what she wanted them to do. many people in her circle liked to act as if they know her well/personally/deeply but she's a guarded person who knows how to keep people away, just like kaguya. the difference between them is that risa can fool people into believing they're closer than they actually are

i actually never thought of what risa's breath style would be. kaguya was her main mentor when she was in training so maybe she developed a breath style based on kaguyas? like early on she was using a common breath style but ended up developing one similar to kaguyas. I'll think about it further though.

that's all i can say about risa.

so what's their story anyway?

their first meeting was when they were children (eight and eleven, risa is 3 yrs older). it was a short meeting, almost unremarkable, although they kept thinking of their meeting bcz they wanted to meet each other again very badly. their wishes were granted and they meet again as teenagers (14, 17). this time theyre able to form a friendship and oh, how close they become. it's like a once in a lifetime bond. and speaking of lifetimes they feel like they know each other from a past life.

^ note I'm not tryna be weird about this, they didn't develop feelings for each other until they were both adults/chronologically 20-somethings. Kaguya physically matures faster due to being half demon so physically she looks about risa's age if not older. she doesn't act like a regular young person either due to her life experiences. i made their ages like this to emphasize how she is stronger in terms of physical power despite being younger.

they are inseparable... except for complications in their life that do separate them. one, as they grow up, risa's marriage to an older man is arranged. as a result she doesn't have as much freedom to do what wanted (ie, hang out with Kaguya) like before. they find their ways though, don't worry. a bit after their marriage, risa's family loses their wealth somehow and they're forced to move to a small very rural town

two, Kaguya obviously has to hide her true life from risa. keeping such a huge secret causes fights and other troubles between them but what else is she to do? she just can't tell a regular civilian about the demon Slayer corps and demons at all . she wants to keep risa safe too so she has to tell her Absolutely Nothing

all of that becomes for nothing though when a demon attacks risa's family, killing her parents (and siblings that live with them, if i decide to give her siblings. i should give her siblings), her husband, and her husband's family too probably. but basically a lot of people are dead. Kaguya arrives and kills the demon, but at that point only risa was the survivor. Kaguya tells her about demons and demon slayers, and risa chooses to enlist in the corps.

when risa enlists, she's 20 and chronologically Kaguya is 17. of course she hasn't really properly ENLISTED yet because she has to go through the final selection ! ( i kinda find it funny that they call it the "final selection" when there's no other selection process for demon slayers other than this, but it's also kind of a final thing in the way that many people Die from it ) so risa moves to kaguya's estate and trains for three years before entering the final selection. obviously she survives and passes with flying colors because she was trained only by the best (kaguya <3). she became friends with the people she saved/helped in the final selection too

so now at 23, risa is a demon slayer! things go quite well in her career. she goes on pair missions with kaguya at first so that risa's safety is ensured and she doesn't have a hard time. risa is worried she actually isn't that good of a demon slayer and at some point she hates relying on kaguya during pair missions, thinking that her success is only because of kaguya and not because she has any skill at all.

aside from that risa also tries to deal with the trauma of losing her family and the mental and physical strain that comes with training and fighting demons. she's terrified that she too will lose her life one day but when she fights alongside kaguya she feels safe, and when she goes home to kaguya after a successful solo mission, she's determined to do her best fighting demons for the rest of her life so that she's happy when she dies

but then she thinks, does she really want to do this for the rest of her life?

kaguya thinks of the same thing too, because before this she was fine being a simple weapon for the corps. a weapon with no friends, no connection to this world, and no real passion in life. she's so strong, obviously she's meant to be a demon slayer, right? but being with risa causes her to rethink everything and what she truly wants

the two of them discuss if they want to retire when they're a bit older. get a nice house in the countryside and live together, raise livestock, and live a calm life where they never think about their missions and they never have to raise a sword against a demon again

,,, well

one day, risa goes on a solo mission and doesn't come back. kaguya knows where she went so she searches the whole place for her, and searches even farther, but none. she tells corps workers stationed in nearby locations to keep an eye out for risa, she searches every week for her, but she doesn't see her nor hear from her for months. she doesn't even find a dead body

what she does find, a few months later, is risa turned into a demon. she would find out later too that demon!risa had already killed a few humans in their time apart. demon risa has no memory of her life as a human, so her first instinct upon seeing kaguya is to attack her. risa is quite strong as a demon. it hurts kaguya to see risa fight with a variant of the same techniques she used when she was still a human

kaguya wants to save her, she wishes there was an ending to this battle that didn't involve risa's death, but she's relentless in her attack. it was either risa died or kaguya died

so she's slain by kaguya. let me just copy paste this line from my notes:

"as her head gets chopped and falls off, one moment from her human life flashes before her eyes. a blurry memory of her and kaguya sitting in kaguya's estate, drinking tea and enjoying the afternoon sun. the memory constantly changes shape and briefly morphs into other memories that she can't process, and it feels like a scene playing from far away. like a memory that isn't hers. risa doesn't think this is from her memory at all, due to the blurriness and transience of it. she dies facing the sky and a single teardrop falls from her eye."

risa was 25 when she died. kaguya was chronologically 23

as one can guess, this whole ordeal traumatized kaguya even further than she is already traumatized. poor thing. all of this would have taken place 3yrs before the main story (so kaguya would be 25 too when the main story would roll around)

okay, so what really happened to risa on the night she disappeared during the mission anyway? how did she become a demon?

i don't have a LOT of details sorted out, but basically she was wounded and super duper hurt during the fight, the demon she's fighting offers to turn her into a demon (i'm guessing she should've been fighting a demon moon then... oohh what if she thought she was fighting a regular demon but then a demon moon shows up and offers to turn her??) obviously she declines the offer but in the end she gets forcefully turned into a demon. so yeah !

i would also like to note that in this story, the demon slayers are aged up just a little bit. i'm sure it makes sense to someone that a lot of demon slayers are young—because they die before they can grow old— but a part of me was unsatisfied with that! so a lot of the pillars are in their early to mid 20s, with the exception of muichiro who is 17, tengen who is 31 (this bitch is 23 originally wtf??, and gyomei who is 44 (HE IS 27 I THOUGHT HE WAS IN HIS 40S)

thats all i have to share i think. thank GOD its all over now /s if one has somehow made their way to the end and read everything in this ramble, comment uur fav video game or something .

aaaaaand thats the end of kaguya ubuyashiki and risa akagi's wonderful backstory and their happy ending.

[deafeninggardenerpanda]

The Town of Light was still. It was the middle of the night, and all of the aristocrats were sleeping peacefully. There wasn’t a single person to be found on the streets, but behind one large mansion, two people were hiding. Meta Knight and Daroach whispered to each other.

"I was surprised when I read your letter. No way, the gear is in Fugo's mansion? Why?" 

"This town has changed a lot from its beginnings," Meta Knight responded. "I did some research. This area used to be a temple. It was an unpopular site, so it was a convenient place to hide the gear."

"A temple? How ironic that a rich mansion now sits here," Daroach grinned. "I can’t believe a clue to the gears just came and knocked on your door. Honestly, is it okay to trust this Magolor guy? I’m not sure about him."

"I agree. His story is too good to be true, but there are no other leads. We have no choice but to believe him. Let’s go."

Daroach took out a grappling hook and latched it onto the high wall surrounding Mr. Fugo’s mansion. He climbed the rope gracefully. Meta Knight watched with admiration.

"As expected from an experienced thief. You have great skill."

"You shouldn’t be so impressed, already. The show’s just started."

Meta Knight climbed the wall as well and landed in the garden. Daroach looked up at the towering mansion.

"Now the question is, just where in this huge mansion is the gear?" 

"Is there a strategy?"

"Of course. Watch." Daroach whistled low and short. Out of nowhere, small creatures appeared and gently gathered around him. There were about twenty in all. Meta Knight blinked.

"What are these guys ... "

"My highly skilled subordinates, the Squeakers. Meta Knight, hand me the magic eye drops." 

"Uh, okay ... "

Meta Knight handed him the vial. Daroach crouched down and began distributing the eye drops to each of the Squeakers, one-by-one. Their eyes were so small that only the smallest amount was needed. Once all of them had their eyes dropped, Daroach whispered something in a low voice. The Squeakers nodded and ran all at once towards the mansion.

"They’re perfect for this job. They can go anywhere, don't make footsteps, nor leave a trace. Fugo wouldn’t even notice if they ran laps around his bedroom." 

"I see ... it's true ... " Meta Knight was deeply impressed from the bottom of his heart. 

Daroach put his hand on his red, silk top hat and spoke in a pretentious voice. "’Get treasure the smart way.’ That’s how the Squeak Squad does it."

After a while, the Squeakers returned. They surrounded Daroach and told him several things in high-pitched voices. Daroach bent over, listened, and nodded.

"Okay, the gear is in the kitchen on the north side of the mansion."

"Kitchen ...? "

"Apparently it’s floating near the ceiling above the countertop. Oh, and one more—the Squeakers found something interesting."

"What?" 

"I'll tell you later. First, the gear." Daroach started running towards the mansion, however, all of the mansion’s windows were protected by state-of-the-art security.

"How will we get inside?" Meta Knight asked. Daroach put a hand on the frame.

"The window is already open."

It was just as he said. The window opened without a sound. Daroach turned to Meta Knight, who was staring wide-eyed. "The Squeakers are excellent. This is a cakewalk for them."

"As expected from the Squeaks."

The two entered the kitchen. They used the last of the magic eye drops and looked up towards the ceiling. 

"That's it." A beautiful, sparkling gear hovered where Daroach pointed.

"Even though it's shining so brightly, no one’s noticed it until now ... " Meta Knight murmured.

"Without the eye drops, it can’t be seen."

"Ancient magic really is mysterious." 

Daroach gently jumped onto the counter and grabbed it.

"See, this is the magical gear." They stared at it. 

"What beautiful, mysterious brilliance. A work of art that can never be made with modern technology ... " Meta Knight said. Daroach squeezed the gear tightly.

"Oh, it’d look lovely in my collection."

"Collection? Don't you want to expose Fugo’s wrongdoings?" 

"Of course I do. After revealing everything, I just want to have this gear in my room, I mean. Do you want the gear, too? We can settle it with a game of rock-paper-scissors."

"I'm fine. I just want to know what Fugo is planning to do with the ancient machine." 

Daroach stowed the gear in his hat. "By the way, what about Magolor? Doesn’t he want the prize?"

"Oh. I'll pay Magolor a thank-you in Point Stars. The gear was found because of his information."

"You’re generous, as always ... Then, it's time to move on to the next job."

"Next job?"

"I told you earlier—the Squeakers found something interesting. It seems there’s a hidden room on the second floor of the mansion."

"A hidden room?"

"Yep, a dead ringer for nefarious activity. There may be clues about the ancient machine in there. Let's go."

The pair left the kitchen and proceeded down the corridor silently. Daroach lit a small lantern to illuminate the dark, and a number of expensive paintings emerged. They covered the walls on either side of the hallway. The frames, made of solid gold, were embedded with diamonds, rubies, and various other jewels, like emeralds, that sparkled in the flickering light.

"What is this awful taste!" Daroach laughed. "The beautiful paintings of flowers and landscapes have been ruined. The glamour of the frames overtakes them." 

"For Fugo, it's not about the beauty of the paintings. It's about showing off how rich you are."

"Ha. The kind of person I hate the most." The two quietly climbed the stairs, passed several rooms, and headed towards the back of the hallway. Daroach opened the door of the farthest room and went inside. It was a small room with a bookshelf along one wall—a reading room. As far as one could tell, there was nothing strange about it.

"Where is the hidden room ...? " Meta Knight looked around. Daroach walked over to the bookshelf. 

"It's behind this. The Squeakers saw the hidden room from a narrow space in the attic, but we can't see it from here." 

"What are we going to do?" 

"There should be a way to move it ... Wait a minute." Daroach peered up at the bookshelf in the light of the lantern. "All of these books are shiny as if they’re brand new. There's no sign of them being read ... Oops, but this book has been removed and put back into place so many times the letters on the spine are faint." 

"Is that the switch?" 

"Oh, not just one book. Here ... here, also ... " Daroach pulled out the worn books in order. There was a rattling noise, and the bookshelf began to rotate slowly. Meta Knight was surprised.

"There’s such a trick hidden in the bookshelf ...!? "

"To have something so exaggerated to hide something ... This guy is up to no good." Meta Knight and Daroach entered the small, secret room behind the shelf. Documents covered a small table and a safe sat in the corner of the room. Meta Knight picked up several papers and examined them.

"It's about the ancient machine. There are pictures taken from various angles ... What a strange shape. Even though it's a machine, it looks like a face. Big eyes ... cat-like ... It’s creepy, and a lot bigger than I imagined!" Meta Knight couldn't hide his excitement. "This ... This is a testimony from when the ancient machine was discovered! What, what ... ‘While digging in the diamond mine’ ... ‘I discovered a huge machine’ ... "

While Meta Knight looked at the documents, Daroach turned his attention towards the safe. 

"The important treasure is always in the safe. It's common sense." He knelt in front of it and took out one of the seven thieves' tools: a stethoscope. He then put the diaphragm of the stethoscope on the safe and turned the dial lock little-by-little. A soft tick could be heard when he matched a correct number.

"Three on the right ........ Seven ..... Two on the left ....... Eight ... One also on the right ....... Good." There was a clicking noise and the safe opened. At that exact moment, an alarm rang loud enough it shook the mansion. 

"Oops!" Daroach caught his tongue. "I wasn't careful enough. There was an alarm in the safe."

"We need to go, Daroach!" 

"Oh." Daroach grabbed the photo in the safe. The building filled with noise and footsteps approached.

"Thieves! Thieves have invaded!"

"Upstairs! Hurry up!" 

The two hurried back into the reading room.  

"What do we do, Daroach!? We can't escape from the hallway!" 

"This way ...! " Daroach pushed open a large window facing the garden. "Meta Knight, can you jump?"

"Of course." 

"Then, let’s go!" They jumped out of the window. Right as they did, the doors opened and guards rushed in.

"They went out the window!" 

"Capture them—!" A large number of guards leaped out and followed them into the garden.

"Jeez! Why are there so many of them!?" Daroach exclaimed.

"Daroach, I'll take care of this. You run away."

"What are you saying? It’ll be the opposite." He pushed the stolen photo against Meta Knight. "You are an aristocrat. It’ll be big news if you’re caught. Take this and leave it to me!" 

"But ...! "

"Do what I say. When it comes to heists, I’m a veteran."

" ..... Alright," Meta Knight nodded. "I'm sorry, Daroach. I leave it to you!" 

"Go, quickly!"

Meta Knight turned sharply.

"One of the thieves is getting away! Catch them!" 

The guards sprinted until suddenly, Daroach blocked their path. He spread his bright red cloak and tipped his brim.

"Come on, you lot! I am your opponent!" They were all hypnotized by Daroach’s majestic appearance, illuminated under the light of the moon, and quickly forgot about Meta Knight running away.

"There, the thief! Catch the thief!" The guards attacked all at once. Daroach flew through the air and evaded their attacks.

"Hahaha! Slow, slow! You all lack training!" 

"This——!" 

"Hahahaha!" He flitted around and continued to draw their attention. The guards grew exhausted chasing him. One person, after another, and another, began to drop, until—

"Ah ... ah ... aughhhhhh ...! " The last person finally collapsed. Daroach shrugged.

"I’m sorry. Next time, do better! Try to keep up!" The bandit jumped from the earth and soared high into the air. He disappeared into the night.

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[mermaidssonshipss]

exile

warnings: angst, a few mentions of drug use and alcohol, anxiety.

pairings: rudy pankow x reader

word count: 3,444

loosely based around “exile” by taylor swift

For as long as you could remember, Rudy had been your best friend. The two of you were inseparable, your small town in Alaska keeping you sheltered and locked away from anything that could possibly disturb your friendship. Until Rudy decided to move to LA. You had been happy for him of course, wanting nothing but for him to be happy, but your heart had shattered the day he left, knowing you were going to lose your best friend. For the first few months, the communication was constant. Your phone was glued to your hand at all times, and text messages passed between you two 24/7, the nights ending with FaceTimes. Soon though, the texts slowed, and the FaceTimes became less frequent. Eventually, there were no texts, and no FaceTimes. He stopped reaching out to you, and you stopped reaching out to him. A month before he was supposed to visit for the first time since he’d left, you had had a full blown panic attack and booked a random flight to stay with a friend who was in NYC for the time he was back in Alaska. It had been two years since he’d left, and a year since you’d spoken. You had gotten a text from his mom the day before he came back, asking you to come to his welcome home get-together. The text went ignored, which you felt bad about as she had done nothing to you, but you knew she’d invite your parents and they’d tell her you were in New York.

Another year had passed, and Outer Banks had been released a few months ago. You saw Rudy’s face everywhere, and every time you wanted to scream. He looked good, better than he did when he left, and he looked happy. He had visited a few more times, and each time you managed to get yourself out of town for the time being. Not once had he reached out to you, asking you how you were doing or where you were, so you figured he didn’t care, what was the point of being there?

You were currently out on your dads docked boat, lying down on the hood as a joint dangled between your lips, the smoke swirling through your nostrils as you inhaled and blew it out. In 2 months, you were going to be moving to California. A job opportunity had presented itself, and you couldn’t pass it up. The pay was more than you could’ve ever even dreamed of, and they were paying for your apartment the first year while you got settled. It was perfect, and you figured California was big enough, you wouldn’t run into Rudy. The last few months you had spent your nights on your dads boat in the same spot, smoking until you couldn’t feel anything, until you were numb. It had been 3 fucking years and you were still pissed about Rudy leaving you, and you had been filling the void with drugs, alcohol, and meaningless sex the past 2 years. Before, you always had Rudy to stop you from drinking too much, or smoking too much weed, and he always interfered when you tried to take a random guy home. Now that he wasn’t here, you didn’t care. You let out a loud groan before sitting up and tossing the joint into the water, stumbling slightly as you stood up and made your way off the boat, slipping your phone into the back pocket of your jean short shorts. As you stepped onto the dock, you remembered you had left your shirt on the boat, but seeing as you were covered by a red bikini top, you decided you were too lazy to climb back up and find the shirt.

It was around 12pm when you made your way into your friend Jills home, the house full to the brim with people you had grown up with. You sent smiles there way as they called your name, beckoning you to their groups, but you kept walking, trying to find Jill. 

Eventually, you spotted the faux blonde leaning against a beer pong table, a red solo cup in her hand as she cheered her boyfriend on. When she saw you, her eyes grew wide and she raced over to you.

“Dude, what are you doing here?” She asked, her words slightly slurred as she stumbled into you slightly.

“You invited me, dipshit.” You responded dryly, reaching your hands out and steadying her.

“I knooooooow,” she scoffed, her hand landing on your head, just resting there, “But you’re always out of town whenever Rudy comes into town. I didn’t expect you to be here,” she was patting your head now, playing with strands of your hair in the process.

“Rudy isn’t in town,” you were confused as you batted her hand away, and she let out a loud laugh.

“Yes he is, silly. He’s over there,” she pointed behind you and you turned around, expecting to see someone who resembled Rudy that Jill had drunkly mistaken for him, but instead you saw him. He was leaning against the wall opposite you, a red hat like the one he wore on Outer Banks resting on top of his blonde hair, and he was watching you. 

“Fuck,” you snapped, turning around quickly as you stared at Jill like a deer caught in headlights.

“I think I was supposed to tell you...oops...” she giggled, waving over at Rudy and you slapped her hands down, panic rising in your throat as you shook your head at the wasted girl in front of you. You heard his voice behind you, and you closed your eyes tightly, your fists tightening before you relaxed the muscles and turned around to face him. He was stood in front of you, his blue eyes trained on your face.

“Hi. Bye.” You chirped quickly, pushing around Jill as your feet raced through the packed home. 

As your dirty converse hit the street, you let out the breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding, tears beginning to spill down your freckled cheeks. You pushed yourself to keep walking, your chest rising and falling as you struggled to breathe. Why hadn’t you been good enough for him? He had promised you when he left that you would remain best friends, but after a year of being gone, he had forgotten about you. He had let your friendship go. You meant nothing to him clearly, and he had meant everything to you. 

You forced your key into the lock of your apartment door, slamming the door shut as you leaned against it, your body sliding down to the floor. Your breaths were shallow, air forcing it’s way out of your lungs in quick bursts as you struggled to breathe it in. The walls around you felt like they were closing in around you. Your vision was blurry, tears falling freely as they stained your cheeks with your mascara. The panic attacks had begun a year into Rudy leaving, when he had stopped replying. Thoughts swirled through your mind 24/7, screaming at you that you weren’t enough. That you never made him happy, and he had only been friends with you because he felt bad for you. It had been a couple months since your last attack, but seeing Rudy tonight brought everything back. You felt worthless.

***

You felt like shit. You had fallen asleep on the hardwood floor by your front door, your eyes crusting over from the mix of your tears and mascara. It had been a feat to push yourself off of the floor and stumble into your bathroom, stripping your clothes off and forcing your aching figure into the shower. 

Once you had dried off, throwing your hair up into a messy bun, you slipped on a simple white sundress that hung a few inches above your knees. You were pacing your living room currently, your phone in your hand as you scrolled through social media, seeing everyone that was in town posting photos with Rudy from the party last night, congratulating him on Outer Banks. You had texted Jill, asking her how long he was going to be in town for, but she had said she had no idea. The thought of once again booking a last minute flight and getting the hell out of here crossed your mind, but as you looked up flights that ran thousands of dollars, you decided against it, just settling for staying locked up in your apartment for the foreseeable future. 

The TV was on and you were looking at it, but you weren’t paying attention to what was on the screen as you sat on your couch. Your eyes lingered on the glass of whiskey in front of you on your coffee table that had been left over from the day before, but just as you went to grab it, your phone dinged.

Unknown number: i think we need to talk.

Your eyebrows furrowed as you scanned the text, but before you could respond asking who it was, another text came through.

Unknown number: meet me at the spot. you know the one. in an hour.

Your stomach flipped as you read the words, realizing that somehow, Rudy had gotten your number. About 6 months ago, you had changed your number, an ex boyfriend of yours had been blowing up your phone for weeks, and you were tried of just deleting the texts.

You squeezed your eyes shut tightly, tossing your phone across the couch as you let out a distressed sigh, throwing your body back onto the couch.

Talking to Rudy was the last thing you wanted to do, but you also wanted answers, you just weren’t sure you were ready to hear what he had to say. You weren’t ready to actually hear him say you weren’t good enough, that you had meant nothing.

***

The leaves that had fallen from the tall trees surrounding you crunched under your old, white converse, your eyes trained forward as you pushed through the branches. Soon, you found the clearing Rudy had been talking about, and you were met with his back facing you as he stood near the edge, looking out at the trees across the lake. His head snapped towards you when he heard your feet come to a stop at a distance, a branch snapping having given your presence away.

You’d both had your first kiss here, right at the edge, when you were 12 and he was 13. It had become a joke between you two that one day you’d both just get tired of it and kiss each other, getting the first kiss nightmares out of the way, until one day, Rudy had actually done it. He had been looking at you as you collected branches, trying to start a small fire in the clearing to warm you up, and you had snapped at him to get off his ass and actually help. Instead of helping, he had stormed over to you and kissed you. Nothing came of the kiss, you two remained best friends, but you had always held it close to your heart. Through the years, you two had your own relationships, but for some reason they always ended for one reason or another, and you two would end up back at this clearing, stolen alcohol and weed tainting your breath, and secret kisses were always shared.

“You look good,” his voice was deeper than you remembered it being when he spoke, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“I feel like shit,” you replied, venom lacing your words as you finally met his gaze. He looked sad as he watched you, his arms crossed across his chest as he bit at his bottom lip nervously. 

“How have things been?” he was desperately trying to grasp onto a conversation, but you weren’t having it.

“I don’t know. My best friend stopped talking to me 2 years ago and threw me away like I was nothing when he promised he wouldn’t, but ya know. Other than that, just peachy,” your cheeks were burning red as you spoke, your fists clenching at your sides, and his eyes widened.

“What?” He looked shocked, and all you could do was let out a scoff as you rolled your eyes, “I didn’t fucking throw you away,” he was angry now as he took a step closer to you, and you were taken aback for a moment. You’d only seen Rudy angry a few times in your friendship, and it had never been directed at you, “You... you told me you didn’t want anything to do with me!” He was shouting at you now, the veins in his neck popping out against his skin.

“Oh that’s fucking bullshit,” your tone matched his and you let out an incredulous laugh before continuing, “You stopped texting me! You stopped FaceTiming me! It just.. stopped!”

“BECAUSE YOU TOLD ME TO!” He was standing in your face now, his face red as he screamed at the top of his lungs, his words echoing around the two of you, “I still have the fucking text,” he rushed, reaching into his pocket as he grabbed his phone. You could see him scrolling through his messages before he came upon your name, and he showed you the screen. You could see a text bubble from you, and multiple text bubbles under it that Rudy had sent, but each of them had the red warning sign, signaling they hadn’t gone through.

Y/N: Don’t ever text me again, and I mean it. I can’t do this anymore. I don’t want to be friends anymore, I never really wanted to be friends, I just felt like I had to stay. 

As you read the words, you felt like you were going to throw up. You had never sent the text, nor had you ever blocked Rudy’s number, meaning there was no reason for his texts to not have gone through.

“I... Rudy I didn’t send that...” you were breathless as you spoke, tears welling up in your eyes as you continued to stare at the texts in front of you. Rudy had sent multiple texts back, begging you to explain what happened, begging you to stay.

And that’s when it hit you.

Connor. Your ex boyfriend, the reason you had to change your phone number. You couldn’t breathe as you looked at Rudy, his face blurry as you looked at him through tears. Connor had made it clear from the beginning he didn’t like Rudy, but you had always assured him there was nothing to worry about. Rudy was in California, for gods sake, but clearly that wasn’t enough. 

Rudy was silent as he watched you, not knowing what to say. He didn’t know if he should believe you, or if you were lying to him. 

You frantically pulled your phone from the pocket of your dress, opening it and looking up Rudys name in your contacts. You clicked on it, and your eyebrows furrowed as you scrolled down and confirmed his number wasn’t blocked. And then you saw the actual number that was entered, and your stomach felt like it had been twisted and ripped out. The first 3 numbers of his number had been changed to a simple 555, meaning when you texted it, it wouldn’t go through, looking as if you had been blocked. You opened the settings on your phone, scrolling down to your blocked list, and there, on the very bottom, right above your ex’s number, was Rudy’s real number. Your eyes met Rudy’s, his already on you, and you could see a few tears had begun collecting on his cheek.

“Rudy... he... Connor... he sent that text. He changed your number and blocked your real number and I didn’t... I didn’t know I never thought to check I thought you had me blocked,” you lifted your phone, showing him all your own undelivered messages as you rushed the words out of your mouth.

“Then why were you never here when I came home? The first time I came back, your house was the first place I went. But you had left. And then the next time, you were gone, and after that,” he looked hurt as he shook his head, stepping back from you and turning back to the view over the cliff.

“I was hurt, Rudy. I thought.. I thought you had brushed me off. I thought you had finally realized I wasn’t good enough, that you didn’t want me around, and it fucking hurt. I didn’t want to see you when you came back and be reminded that I wasn’t enough for you to stay,” your voice was quite as you spoke, only loud enough for Rudy to hear, and as the wind carried your words through the air, Rudy was now the one who felt like he couldn’t breathe.

“You were my best friend, y/n,” he was facing you again, his hand reaching out and resting on your cheek, wiping a tear that had fallen, “God... I was in love with you. So fucking in love with you. What do you mean not good enough? How could you ever think that? I asked you to move to California and stay with me, but you sent that text in response. I missed you so fucking much it hurt. I knew you had a boyfriend, but he was a total tool, I could tell that just by looking at his instagram, and I could tell you weren’t really into him, so I figured it wouldn’t hurt to ask you. And then I got that text and I thought I had fucked everything up,” he was freely crying now, and your hands were gripping onto his shirt tightly as you leaned your cheek into his hand.

“Fuck Rudy, I’m so sorry. I was with Connor that night and he must have seen it when I went to the bathroom,” you were struggling to speak, hiccuping here and there as you cried, and Rudy’s other arm had wrapped around your waist, “I would’ve done it. I would’ve moved to California the next day. You’re right. I wasn’t that into him. He was just a distraction from how much I missed you. How I was so in love with you and nobody else could ever replace you.”

Rudy rested his forehead against yours, both of you just looking at one another. For two years, both of you had been under the impression that you had been exiled from the others life. Unwanted. Broken. But as you looked into Rudy’s eyes, his arm wrapped around you and holding onto you for dear life, the broken pieces slowly began to click back together.

***

“Dude, what is in this box?” the heavy box in Rudy’s hand was dropped onto the ground, loudly banging against the hardwood floor beneath him as he wiped the sweat that had collected from his forehead.

“I don’t know, but don’t just... drop my stuff,” you glared, walking past him with a box of your own in your hold, placing it down gently on Rudy’s kitchen table.

3 months. It had been 3 months since the two of you met in the forest, both of you finally realizing what had actually happened. At first, things were tough. Both of you were dealing with your own issues due to what happened, and unfortunately those feelings don’t just go away, even if what had caused them wasn’t what they had thought. But now, you two were solid as a rock. When you told him you were moving to California for a job opportunity, he had almost screamed in excitement, immediately telling you to move into his place. After some research regarding where your work was located and finding out it was only 10 minutes away from Rudy’s place, you agreed. 

You were going through the box you’d just placed down when Rudy came up behind you, his arms wrapping around your waist as he rested his chin on your shoulder. You tilted your head, placing a soft kiss on the side of his forehead before returning your attention back to the contents in front of you. He sighed, squeezing you tightly as he dragged you away from the table slightly, signaling he wanted attention. 

“I need to unpaaaack,” you whined, letting out a laugh as he turned your body to face him, a pout on his plump lips, his arms still latched around you.

“Unpack later, kiss me now,” he smiled, placing his lips on top of yours, and you melted into his embrace.

You could unpack later.

[javisjeanjacket]

Hello old buddy, old friend, old pal, do you have any headcanons about going to Lowe's/any general hardware store with Frankie 🥺👉👈 (or hey, if you wanna write it as a fic, I definitely wouldn't complain...)

Meet Me at Our Spot  (Part 1/4) - (frankie morales x reader)

A/N: Oh, so my favorite gal wants a Lowe's boyfriend?? I got you buddy!! :) I love this premise so much a bitch is gonna turn it into a series! OOPE

Word count: 1.6K

Warnings: it’s for Cass so there’s none! she’s just a fluffy boy :)

A cool breeze whipped through the Lowe's parking lot, sending a chill across your skin and your hair dancing upon it's shoulders. You tugged your thin jacket closer and stepped through the sliding double doors, smiling at the door greeter as you wormed your way through the bustling entrance. You leaned and slid to the side to avoid a blonde haired mom and her screaming child as you made your way through the store and towards the Garden Center.

The noise and business of the store around you seemed to fade away the closer you got to the Garden Center doors. You let out an exhale as the double doors slid apart and you crossed the threshold. The grounding energy of the plants and the subtle sunshine they carried with them helped to settle your thumping chest. You took your time, looking over each succulent and flower, your face beaming and your fingers dancing atop each leaf and petal. Something about the plants, brought here together in a kind of makeshift jungle, was sovereign in your mind. Their ability to continue on, to become more, to grow until they physically couldn't anymore, was something you held close to your heart and these moments in the Garden Center reminded you of that.

~~~~~

Frankie hated Lowe's. He hated the clanging of people loading lumber, the whirring of the paint mixer, the screaming children who were tired of walking. The noise brought back memories of gunfire and screaming across a battlefield.  He could feel tension rising in his chest as he looked over the endless sea of drill attachments and when a blonde haired woman and her screaming child passed by, he decided to make a run for the Garden Center.

He stepped through the sliding double doors and let out a deep sigh, the quiet of the plants soothing to his pulsing hands. His dark eyes shifted over the outdoor area, searching for possible screaming children or snickering teenagers. The coast seemingly clear, he began his sojourn through the brightly lit aisles. The warmth of the sun and from the succulents around him helped to settle his chest. He looked up as he turned a corner and noticed the shape of your form, almost hidden by the branches and palms of the saplings you were admiring.

Frankie stopped in front of a display of grey teaspoon plants, but kept his eyes focused on you. He could see your smile as you turned to look at the different trees, bright and beaming. He could feel your warmth all the way from where he stood. He watched as you brushed your hand over the leaves, careful not to disturb the trees. You seemed to be mumbling to them, enraptured by their power.

He smiled and chuckled to himself as he watched you. Your complete awe of a couple of saplings in the Lowe's Garden Center amusing to him. He could hear his heart thumping in his ears and his throat went dry as he looked up and down you again. His eye catching on your outstretched hand and the absence of a ring on it.

~~~~~~

You stuffed your hands in your back pockets as you took one final look over the saplings, trying to reel in as much of their energy as you could before you left.

"Excuse me." A male voice sounded from beside you.

You jumped and gasped, looking towards it.

The voice belonged to a stranger, a stranger who's face you felt you had seen before. Someone you had known in childhood or another life maybe.

"Can you tell me anything about these?" He asked. His face was square with patchy stubble decorating his jaw. Dark hair flipped out from under a baseball cap and his eyes were so dark they seemed to have their own gravity. He wore a tan jacket over a plain black t shirt and his smile took up the entire expanse of his face.

"Uh-" You jerked yourself out of his trance. "I don't," You snickered in embarrassment. "I don't work here."

"Oh!" He said, nodding. He chuckled, "The way you were talking to them," He motioned to the saplings beside you. "I just assumed you guys were already friends."

You laughed and replied, "No, we're still in the talking stage right now. Don't want to come on too strong, you know." Heat built in your chest as you met his eyes again and you licked your lips.

The man's gaze shifted from your eyes to your lips and he smirked, "Yeah, you want to play it cool. Just come up to them at Lowe's and ask them to tell you about trees."

You chuckled and broke your gaze, looking down at your shoes.

He laughed and pulled at the brim of his cap, pushing it over his face and then fixing it back in place. "I'm Frankie." He said, holding out his hand towards you.

Your eyes caught on the small circular tattoo beside his thumb as you took his hand and shook it, replying with your name and a "It's nice to meet you, Frankie."

He echoed, "It's nice to meet you too."

A beat of awkward silence passed between you.

You sighed loudly and began, "Well, I guess I uh,"

Frankie said at the same time, "Are you-"

You both stopped and smirked at the other.

"You go." Frankie said and motioned for you to speak.

You shook your head, "No, what were you saying?"

Frankie blushed and said, "I was going to ask if you were looking for a tree to have your boyfriend plant for you."

You could feel a warmth surge through your hands. "I don't have a boyfriend." You almost whispered, air resting just out of your reach.

Frankie took in a deep breath and stepped closer to you. His eyes ran up and down your body and then landed on your lips. "A girl as pretty as you doesn't have a boyfriend?"

You shook your head no and beamed at him.

"Oh, so you're a serial killer then?" He asked, a dark eyebrow quirked upwards.

You laughed and reached a hand out to touch his arm. The weight of him under your touch was enough to send electricity popping and crackling down your spine. "No, of course not."

"That's what they all say." He teased, his eyes now planted firmly on your lips.

You beamed at him and moved your hand back to your side. Nervousness careening through your system at an alarming rate.

Frankie said your name, his voice heavier than it had been just moments ago.

You looked up from your shoes to meet his gaze. "Yes?" You whispered.

He moved one of his palms from his side to rest on the small of your back. "Can I kiss you?"

There was no telling why you said yes, maybe it was the depth of his eyes or the way his hair flipped out over his ears. The quirk of his lips or the softness around the creases in his eyes.

You nodded yes and let out a tiny gasp as his lips brushed against yours. His hand on your back pulled you closer to him, his chest pressing against yours and his thumb rubbing up and down.

His lips pulled softly on yours, testing the waters and getting a feel for you. His mouth tasted like coffee and something sweet, like maple syrup maybe.

You moved your hands to his face and cupped it gently, afraid to become too tangible and scare him away. You could feel the brim of his cap resting atop your head and it made you smile against his lips.

His patchy beard scratched at your hands and the tips of your fingers reached for the hair peeking out from under his hat.

He broke the kiss, his eyes searching your face and his eyebrows dipped as he watched for your reaction.

Your mind lagged, the feeling of Frankie completely overtaking any other functioning pathway in your brain. Snapping to, you smiled brightly at him and scratched your head. "Um," You chuckled.

Frankie blushed and looked down at his boots, he tucked his hands in his pockets.

"Well, Frankie, if you have any, uh, questions about these," You looked down at the tag resting around the sapling closest to you's trunk. "Benjamina Ficus trees, I can give you my number so you can call me, you know..if you want to."

Frankie's face blanked and then jumped to life as he processed your words. "Oh, yeah, yeah. I definitely- I have a lot of questions about Benjamin Ficus." He said as he wriggled his phone from his pants pocket. He quickly unlocked it and handed it over to you.

You entered your number and your name followed by a tree emoji and then handed it back to him.

"Okay." He nodded, smiling back at you.

You returned the smile and took a deep breath, "Well, I guess I'll see you and Ben Ficus here next time."

Frankie's cheeks filled and his eyes seemed to sparkle as he watched you slowly step away. "This will be our spot."

A weight slammed into your chest and you had to gasp for breath. "Okay, bye Frankie." You flashed him one last smile before exiting the sliding double doors.

~~~~~

Frankie sighed loudly as you left the Garden Center. He ran his clammy palms down his jeans, took off his cap, and then ran a hand through his hair as his mind whirred to process what had just happened.

'God, I'm turning into Pope.' He thought.

He looked down at the phone in his hand and your contact there, a little tree emoji at the end of it. He smiled to himself and slipped the phone back in his pocket. He scratched his head through his cap as he tried to remember why the hell he had even come to Lowe's in the first place.

FRANKIE TAGLIST: @lostgirlheather @yougottakeeponkeepinon @artsymaddie @din-damn-djarin

GENERAL TAGLIST: @softly-sad

I hope everyone is where they want to be taglist wise! If not, please let me know and I will change it for you! :)

JOIN THE TAGLIST HERE

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[one-leaf-grimoire]

"the knight who pierced the king's heart"

Chapter 3

Summary: Julius wonders if going on this date is a good idea, only for Lisa to almost immediately try and bail.

Warnings: They are both big idiots oops

Pairing: Julius x Lisa

Link to full work on AO3

“Please, Marx, just trust me-”

“Julius! I’m not going to allow you to run off and skip your meetings!” Marx balled up his fists and for a brief moment, Julius feared for his life. His advisor was already livid about his disappearance last night, which did not go unnoticed by Augustus. Julius explained it away as he was feeling sick, but another excuse wasn’t going to get him past Marx. “Not without a really, REALLY good reason, at the very least.”

“Oh, well- I have a reason-” Julius glanced nervously at the clock in his office. If I don’t get out of here soon, I’m going to miss lunch time! “Er- um…” Any good excuse was evading him, so he just blurted out something slightly stupid: the truth. “I’m going on a date.”

Marx’s jaw dropped, and Julius immediately regretted his decision. “WHAT?!” He dropped the paperwork in his hand out of shock, and it scattered all over the tile floor. “You’re kidding!!!! It’s been ages-”

“Don’t remind me-” Julius cut in, trying to reveal as little information about the date as possible. “I’m going to be late to meet her if I don’t-”

“BY ALL MEANS- go!” Marx was suddenly behind him, pushing him out the door. “This is great news! It’s about time you got married and produced an heir!”

“Heir?! Married?!” Julius had thought about it, sure, but he didn’t expect Marx of all people to start bothering him about it now. “It’s much too early to start talking about that stuff-”

“Whatever! It’s still a good sign.” Marx smiled to himself as he finally released Julius. “Go- I’ll make an excuse. But let me know about your plans ahead of time in the future so I can plan your schedule, alright?”

Julius nodded, and couldn’t help but grin to himself. “Thank you… I’ll be back by the evening.”

“You better be!”

Julius quickly ran to his room to change, glad to discard all his finery. His crown was carelessly thrown onto his bed, replaced by a wide-brimmed hat that covered most of his hair. When combined with his usual bandana, it worked as a great upgrade to his “disguise.” She’s not going to be tipsy this time, Julius thought to himself, his heart pounding as the nerves started to set in. So it’s more likely that she’ll figure me out… she did kiss my hand that day, after all. But maybe that’s for the best… I don’t want to keep tricking her or anything like that.

With that, he set off, slipping out of the castle unseen as usual for what he hoped would be a fun afternoon.

As he walked through the busy streets as fast as he could, Julius couldn’t help but let his mind wander back to what Marx mentioned.

Marriage… and an heir.

Julius really hadn’t worried much about either of those subjects before. Back before he was king, when he was still just a knight, he had dreamed about settling down after retirement and having a family with someone. But of course, plans changed; his injury, his father and uncle’s deaths, and his ascent to the throne threw him off course. The position he took over was the one that oversaw the army and foreign policy, and the kingdom was on the brink of war at the time. Now, 5 long years later, they were at peace, and Julius finally found himself without much to do.

I guess… maybe this would be a good time to figure that all out after all.

He was never a fan of the dynastic aspect of things. Julius wasn’t supposed to take the throne at all, but of course things changed and the royal line shifted. But he didn’t really feel too possessive over the future of his line. One of his cousins would take over when he died or retired, and Julius was fine with that.

But still… maybe it would be nice to have kids.

Maybe it was all a weird delusion. After all, no one could predict the future. It might be silly to imagine this whole future from just two meetings with another person, but Julius didn’t stop himself.

Anyway… what was so special about her?

Why do I even like Lisa?

The truth was, Julius had been infatuated before he even saw her face. The way she fought in that tournament let her determination shine through, and when she took off her helmet, and kissed his hand-

Julius could acutely remember how it felt last night, with her holding onto him, her cheek pressed close against his chest. It had been a long, long time since another person was so close to him. Just the memory was enough to dust his ears in red.

So… is it all physical?

No…

It must not be all physical. Because, somehow, from just those two meetings, Lisa was able to make him think about a future, and imagine her there too.

Or… maybe I’m just being silly.

Julius suddenly halted, letting a few people brush by him in the crowd.

Lisa… she’s so young. She just started her career as a knight. If we get closer… it might hurt her…

However, a moment later, he started walking again, his steps more confident.

No… that’s silly. I’m the King, I’d be able to protect her! All I know is that I like her, for whatever reason, and I’m not going to let that go!

For now, all Julius had to worry about was making a good impression and figuring out a way to let Lisa know exactly what she was getting into.

“...hello?”

Julius half expected Lisa to have forgotten about their “date,” but to his pleasant surprise she was already standing outside, dressed casually with her arm still in her cast. She blinked at the sound of his voice, turning to see him. Her eyes immediately widened, and to his relief, she smiled.

“Oh! So I didn’t dream you up!”

“Ah, yeah, no you didn’t…” Julius laughed nervously, scratching the back of his neck. “I’m glad you remembered.”

“Me too!” Lisa stepped a little closer, and despite her smile, Julius could pick up on a distinct apprehension in her stance. She’s nervous too… probably more nervous than I am. For good reason, too; it was quite risky to meet up with a mysterious man, even for a lunch date. “I woke up this morning and all I could think of was I have a date today! I’m glad you’re just as handsome as I dreamed~”

AHHHHHH

Julius gulped, his heart jolting around every which way in his chest. She’s still just as bold as ever- “Thank you… you’re just as lovely. So-” He averted his eyes and looked around under the brim of his hat, which he was surprised didn’t hinder her opinion of him today. “Where would you like to go?” It had been a while since he had been on a date, but he assumed it was the gentlemanly thing to do to let her take the lead.

“Hmm… I was thinking that we should just get something from the market then go somewhere quiet.”

Somewhere quiet? Alright… Julius nodded, then turned to lead her off. “Sounds like a plan… this way, right?”

“Yeah!”

Julius didn’t want to overstep boundaries, but it turned out he didn’t have to; Lisa immediately slipped her right hand into his left. Ah! Ok, that must be a good sign… He glanced down at her as they walked, seeing her staring ahead, still looking as happy as could be. So far so good… now I just have to figure out how to go about the rest of this.

Before he knew it, they had finished up their trip to the market, and Lisa was dragging him towards the outskirts of town. Julius didn’t object, following with ease as he carried both of their lunches in his free hand. “This way!” she said, glancing back at him. “There’s a hill on the edge of town… it has a great view!”

Sure enough, she let go of his hand to race up the hill, lively despite her one useless arm. Once at the top, Lisa turned to look down at Julius, her grin faltering when she saw him still at the bottom. “Come on! I can’t wait up here forever.”

“... oh, right.” Julius quickly snapped out of it and climbed after her. I started staring… I have to be careful about that.

But how could he not stare at her? She demanded the attention of all those around her with every movement she made. Julius didn’t understand her yet, but he could see that she was the type of person who breathed life into everyone she crossed paths with.

Even him.

“You’re right, the view is great up here.” Julius finally sat down, letting out a sigh as his back came to rest against the trunk of a tree.

“I know right?” Lisa quickly sat next to him, reaching towards the lunch bag. “I bring dates up here all the time.”

“All the time?” Julius repeated, his heart sinking again. I mean… I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. She’s pretty, I’m sure she has a lot of admirers. I’m probably nothing more than a fun way to pass the time-

“No. I lied.” Lisa laughed nervously, awkwardly digging through her bag. “I don’t really get asked on dates much… not even this time! I asked you didn’t I?” She licked her lips as she pulled the sandwich out. “I do still come up here a lot, though… just by myself.”

Something changed in her voice. Julius stared at her, not exactly sure what to say.

Oh… so… I guess she’s also…

Lisa stared at her sandwich in her hand for a moment. Then, with a soft breath, she let it drop back down into the bag.

“Last night… I feel like I embarrassed both of us. I don’t know why you were there, or why I recognized you, I don’t even know your name now!” She let out a sigh, and to Julius’s dismay, she stood up. “I guess the reason I wanted to meet you today was to apologize. Sorry about all that… but you don’t have to worry about me anymore.”

Finally, she turned to look down at him, a sad smile on her face.

“Thank you… goodbye.”

Without another word, Lisa turned back around and started to walk off down the hill.

For a moment, Julius didn’t move. He wasn’t sure he was even processing what happened. His eyes were glued on the back of her head, as her hair bounced around her with every step. Maybe that image was what made him snap out of it and finally jump back to his feet.

“Wait!”

Lisa paused, glancing over her shoulder at the man behind her. Julius gulped, his arm halfway outstretched dramatically. He didn’t really know what to say; he just started talking.

“My name… my name is Julius.”

No change could be seen in her expression. Julius started to sweat. Should I say my last name too? I thought she would have put two and two together…

“...I saw you at the jousting tournament.”

His hand dropped back to his side as he continued to speak. He only had one goal in his mind, one desperate goal to keep her here just a little longer. The realization that she was about to leave, possibly forever, was finally dawning on him, and the emotion pounding from his heart had just one name:

Fear.

“You broke your arm, yet you kept pushing forward. I-I couldn’t help but admire that… and then…”

Here he was again, spewing out the dumbest thing he could: the truth. Yet, for the second time today, it was working. Lisa’s eyes finally widened a little, her body turning back to face him fully. Julius sucked in a breath through his nose before continuing.

“Then… you took off your helmet, and I saw that you aren’t just brave and strong… you’re beautiful too.”

Lisa blinked, shock starting to register on her face with each passing word. Julius couldn’t tell if she was pleased or not, and his next words caught in his throat. He stood there for a moment, his mouth open, unsure if he should continue.

“... I should be the one apologizing. It was weird and selfish of me, but I ended up at a party where I didn’t belong, because I wanted to see you again-” For some reason, Julius felt himself laugh weakly at the thought. “So… I’m sorry. But, if you have the time… I’d still like to have lunch with you.”

For a long, long time, Lisa just stared up at him, a light blush on her cheeks from the unexpected confession. Julius held his breath, feeling a bit dizzy. But somehow, he was still smiling.

And then, miraculously, she smiled back, closing her eyes for a brief minute.

“Why didn’t you say so earlier?”

She opened her eyes again, and Julius swore that they were sparkling. “I finally get my hilltop date, with an admirer, no less! How could I refuse?”

Julius let out a sigh of relief, his nervousness shifting into a more pensive kind.

She’s staying… just a little longer… that’s all I need!

“My name is Lisa… but you probably already knew that.”

“Yeah, I did…”

[wafflesandkruge]

To New Beginnings

Summary: Inej returns to Ketterdam after a year at sea, and is ready to leave in disappointment yet again. But an old friend shows up to stow away on her ship, and who's she to say no?

A/N: A gift for @zemenipearls bc I’m super late on her commission but I had this idea so oop. 

Inej squinted at the dim Ketterdam sun, taking a break from helping her crew load up The Wraith for another long voyage. She hadn’t wanted to dock here, not really. It had been almost a year since she’d left for the first time, but it seemed nothing had changed. Or rather, nobody had changed. She made a noise of frustration and picked up the crate she’d been carrying again. At least they’d be on the sea before dark.

She brought the crate to the hold, nodding to the crew members she passed. There were almost thirty of them now, men and women from all corners of the world who’d felt compelled to join her crew. Each one had proved themselves multiple times in battle, and Inej was proud to fight alongside each and every one of them. 

Deppa, her first mate, came up from behind Inej as she finished tying down the crate. “Last bit of paperwork before we leave, captain. The Council of Tides needs to have our docking and leaving documented, per usual.”

Inej scanned the page Deppa offered before scrawling her name on the bottom. “Anything else?”

“No, captain. We’re good to go as soon as I get Penny to run this to their watchtower.”

Inej nodded, biting her lip. Why did she feel disappointed when she was also so eager to leave? She kept hoping, illogically, that someone would ask her to stay. That someone would want her near and be happy when she was.

“Alright. Have Penny do that. I’ll do one last check, then we can raise the gangplank and be on our way.” 

Deppa left Inej in the hold, where she let herself mope for a moment or two. She was leaving, maybe for good this time. That was that. She told herself she was glad to be rid of Ketterdam, of its constant stench of sewer water and fish. Glad to be rid of the monsters lurking around every corner.

“Hey!” a masculine voice shouted from above deck. There were a few muffled thuds, the sounds of bodies hitting the deck. Inej snatched a knife from her belt and ran upstairs. Maybe she would have a reason to stay, after all.

Instead of some horrifying scene involving blood and hostages, she found an old friend being wrangled to his knees by two of her crew members. Jesper Fahey shot her a trademark grin. “Hey, Inej. Think I can stow away on your ship?”

---

Night was quickly falling, but Jesper didn’t mind the cold wind that slipped through his coat. It was bracing, a reminder that he was here. He’d missed the taste of adventure for months now, and being able to taste it again made him forget his troubles. Of which there were many.

As if sensing his thoughts, the captain herself appeared beside him at the railing. She’d grown a little since he’d last seen her. She looked like the fearsome pirate queens from his childhood history books. A tricorn hat was perched on her head at a jaunty angle, a crow’s feather stuck in the brim. He quirked his lips at that. 

“Captain Ghafa. It suits you.”

“Thank you. I see you’ve purchased a new wardrobe for this trip,” Inej teased, gesturing at his new coat. Jesper spun, showing off the rich colors. 

“You like it? I’m sure I can have one made for you too.”

She laughed. She seemed to do that more around her crew than she’d ever done in Ketterdam. “I’m good, Jes.”

They lapsed into a comfortable silence. The creaking of wood and the splash of waves against the hull were all the conversation they needed. Or at least it was until Inej spoke. 

“Why are you here?”

Jesper mustered up a grin. “I can’t visit my oldest friend?”

“It’s not that,” she continued. A peculiar look crossed her face and she rubbed at the scar on her forearm. A new habit. “I thought things were going well for you in Ketterdam.”

Jesper sighed. “They were. They were.”

“Then why-”

“I wasn’t...happy. It all seemed great at first…” Jesper hesitated. He’d never told anybody about this, not Nina, not Kaz, and certainly not Wylan. But Inej was a good listener. She of all people would understand. “I don’t think it’s for me. Living in a big house, having people wait on me. I need to be doing things, whether that be a farm, or a heist, or a pirate ship. And I don’t think I can do that in Ketterdam anymore.”

It felt like a burden had been lifted off his chest to finally admit that to someone else. He’d been feeling guilty for months, like he was the universe’s most selfish person for not being able to settle down in his new life. But Inej looked at him without an ounce of judgement. “I understand,” she said quietly. “There’s nothing left for me in Ketterdam either.”

Jesper blinked. “Kaz-”

Inej shook her head, strands of her hair obscuring her eyes. “I’m tired of waiting for someone who’s not waiting for me.”

The two of them stared across the sea, processing each other’s words. Inej’s quiet understanding was something Jesper had sorely missed in the year she’d been gone. He tentatively held a hand out, palm up. In the dim light from the ship’s lanterns, he could just make out the lines of his Dregs tattoo. He guessed he’d have to get it removed now.

After a moment’s hesitation, Inej put her hand on top of his, calloused palm against calloused palm, tattoo against tattoo. They stayed that way for what felt like hours, just watching the stars and appreciating each other’s presence. 

“It’s a long way to Novyi Zem. You should get some rest,” Inej reminded him. She untangled her hand from his and adjusted her hat. She noticed his gaze.

“I’ll get you a pirate hat too.”

[mermurder]

Pretty Little Square - a Jotaro/reader fanfic

i was just a smal baby weeb when i wrote my last fan fiction but the time has come (aka i started watching jjba and hoe out for all the Joestars)

Basically reader is stuck watching Jotaro during detention and things get a little rocky. No smut or nothin’ (yet ;000) but there are some swearsies w/ one directed at the reader so theres that. like i said this is my first fan fic in many moons so is probably trash. Enjoy!

Being at school this late was really starting to creep you out. The empty hallways and classrooms had a very strange aura to them. Like you were in some horror movie. You’d usually wouldn't be here this late if it wasn’t for one of your teachers asking for your help. He had to watch over the kids in detention today but had to leave due to some sort of family emergency. At the last minute he begged you to stay and take their place and you couldn’t say no. As class president, he knew he could trust you to watch over the troublemakers. Actually just one troublemaker. Before he left he handed you a sticky note letting you know who would be coming. Jotaro Kujo was the only name written down. Would he even bother coming? You weren’t even sure what he was in detention for, this time at least. It didn’t matter, he’s done all sorts of things that landed him in hot water. Even almost gotten expelled a few times. If it wasn’t for his saint of a mother he would have been kicked out a long time ago. 

She was such a nice lady, when you and Jotaro used to pal around she treated you like her own daughter. You and Jotaro actually used to be really close. Before your parents divorced you lived in the same neighborhood as the Kujos. Even though you were children your parents teased that you and Jotaro were little lovebirds. In reality you just did the normal things kids used to do. Played in the playground and watched after school cartoons. You two stayed friends all the way until high school. That was when Jotaro changed. The normal, kind kid you grew up with turned into a cold and sometimes cruel person. Now that you were class president you denied ever even knowing him, worried your reputation would suffer if anyone knew you used to hang around with him. You’d never dare tell anyone you used to have a crush on him either.

You sighed and raised your hand to block the setting sun from getting in your eyes. You leaned against the desk in the front of the classroom, waiting. The watch on your wrist showed three fifty-nine PM. Detention started at four. If he wasn’t here by fifteen past you’d leave. You weren’t going to sit here when you could be home studying and applying for scholarships. The classroom door creaked open and you turned to look. Holy shit he actually came. Jotaro stood in the doorway. His hands in his pockets and hat pulled down to shade his eyes.

“Where’s Mr. Ishimura?” he questioned in his signature monotone. You pushed yourself off the desk. “He had something he needed to attend to. He asked me to watch you instead.” Jotaro scoffed and let out a quiet ‘whatever’ and walked over to one of the desks in the middle of the room. He plopped himself down in his seat and propped his feet up on the desk. Just an hour of babysitting and you could finally go home. 

You decided to take a seat at the teacher’s desk. Pulling a book out of your bag you cracked it open and began reading. It was a book about some female warrior destined to fight against evil and defend her people. Your friend pleaded that you read it so you could go with her to see the movie when it came out. Humoring her, you'd already gotten to about the middle. The protagonist was starting to fall in love with the bad boy who’d cast himself out of the village. He was gruff and flippant towards her. But she was drawn to his charms like a moth to a flame. Barf. Who would actually fall for his crap?

The sound of a can cracking open yanked you out of your thoughts. You peered over your book to look at Jotaro. You hoped he just opened a can of soda but this was Jotaro Kujo we’re talking about. He leisurely took a sip from his beer as his eyes darted back and forth across the pages of a book. Was it worth the effort to get up and ask him to stop? Exhaling through your nose, you got up and walked around the desk to stand in front of Jojo. He either didn’t notice you were in front of him or didn’t care. Probably the latter. “Jotaro.” you said, hands on your hips. No response. “Jojo.” Oops you didn’t mean to call him by your childhood nickname for him but it seemed to get his attention. He stared up at you past the brim of his hat. It felt like he was glaring daggers into you. “You know what I’m going to say don’t you?” There was a pleading tone in your voice. Maybe just once he would behave. To your surprise he held out the can to you loosely. You snatched it away from him and gave him a disappointed look. It was practically empty already. Turning away you intended to keep the can to throw out somewhere else, you didn’t want the janitors finding an empty can of beer and thinking you had something to do with it. There was still a small amount of liquid still in the can though. Without thinking you brought the can to your lips and chugged down what was left. Behind you a soft chuckle came from Jotaro. 

“I guess the rumors going around are true then.” He mumbled, not quite intending for you to hear but the silence of the room made it audible. You turned on your heel to face Jojo. “What do you mean?” You asked, equal parts insult and curiosity hanging off your words. He didn’t even bother looking up from his book. “Everyone knows that the senior class president isn’t as straight laced as she makes herself out to be.” Okay sure you had a habit of having a smoke or two after school. And sometimes you’d sneak your dad’s beers if you were up late studying. It wasn’t something you were proud of but it was true. There was nothing to be done about the rumors, it wasn’t the gossip that pissed you off anyway. “You’re one to talk.” Your words cut through the air like a knife. Jotaro’s shoulders tensed and finally for the first time in the past half an hour he’d been with you he looked you straight in the eye. Placing his book on the desk he stood from his seat, towering over you. He looked down at your tiny form. You’d forgotten how piercing his blue eyes were. “What's that supposed to mean.” Your words were sharp but by far his were more intimidating. What had you gotten yourself into?

A familiar heat grew on our face. It was embarrassing being called out on your words. But more than that you were angry. Bottling up how you felt about Jotaro would do you no good. He was here, he had no choice but to hear what you had to say. “I’m so sick of your attitude…” Getting the words out of your mouth was already hard enough, looking Jojo in the eye was impossible. Jotaro was silent. You had no idea what his reaction was but after a short pause you kept speaking. “I might have my own problems but you act like such a jackass!” Gaining more confidence you stepped back and looked up at Jojo. With his hands in his pockets he once again had his hat covering his face. It cast an ominous shadow over his eyes. There was no way to tell what he was thinking. But you could tell he was listening. You already called this giant man a jackass, might as well keep going. 

“You act like you’re better than everyone else, its so annoying. I hate it, everyone hates it! Everyone's too afraid to call you out because they're afraid you’re gonna kick their ass.” The hands at your side balled up into fists. “You’re just...you’re a completely different person.” The frustration you were feeling made it hard to form sentences but you kept firing off anyway. “I remember when we used to play together. You were so nice back then. You loved going to the aquarium and spending time with your mom. Now you act like a complete bastard to everyone! This tough guy act you put on isn’t cool Jojo. I used to like you…now I just wish you’d snap out of it and act right.” Barely audible you added one last thing. “I miss the old Jojo.” 

Years of hearing about Jotaro getting in trouble had manifested into anger about the person you used to know. In your freshman year together you sometimes day dreamed of what it would be like to be Mrs. Kujo. You tried to push the silly thoughts about your best friend down until eventually you didn’t have to. The two of you drifted apart. Jotaro became a delinquent. You became a good student and class president. Feelings of infatuation morphed into anger. You lost your closest friend and now he treated everyone like shit. Now is was all finally out. The impromptu vent session actually felt nice. But now you had to deal with the consequences. 

Before you knew it Jotaro was right in front of you and invading your personal space. He glared into your eyes and managed to trap you between his body and the desk next to you. He leaned down just enough to be able to be face to face to you. “Listen to me.” He growled through his teeth. “Just because our parents made us go on play dates doesn’t mean you know me like the back of your hand. I grew up, things changed. It's time for you to do the same.” He was close enough to you that you could smell the cologne and cigarette smoke on him. You were terrified but also strangely excited. “I don’t give a shit what anyone thinks of me. I’ll do whatever the hell I damn well please. You have no idea what I've been through or what I’m going through. So you don’t have the fucking right to chew me out about how I’ve changed.” Your eyes began to water and you closed your eyes to prevent the tears from coming, in addition to turning your head away so he wouldn't see you cry. Just like you Jojo had one final thing to say. “The last thing I need is you mouthing off at me and acting like a little bitch!” He didn’t yell at you but his raised voice echoed off the walls of the room. It was enough to finally force tears from you. One or two streamed down your cheek and you felt your lip begin to quiver. You couldn’t figure out why this hurt so bad. You didn’t care about some loser like Jojo anymore. Right?

When you opened your eyes again Jojo was still in front of you but standing straight at his normal height. He looked down on you but he didn’t look pissed like you thought he would. He actually looked kind of sad. The words he said replayed in your head over and over again. The tears came quicker and your chest began to tighten. “Just... just get out.” you mumbled between sniffles. You didn’t want to be around him anymore or for him to see you cry. Though it’s probably too late for that. Jojo collected his things and obeyed. You looked at him as he walked out the door and he gave you a look back. After waiting a moment you let the tears fall as they pleased.

Detention ended early that day. You didn’t care. After that you never saw or heard from Jojo again. He would creep into your mind from time to time but you’d quickly try to think of something else. Now that you were in college you couldn’t waste time thinking about stuff like that. Sometimes you could swear you’d saw someone who looked just like him on campus, but there was no way. A delinquent like him probably ended up on the streets or something.

...Right?

[el-gilliath]

Day 3: Quick and Dirty (well it’s 3200 words)

Prompt by @andrea-lyn​ waaay back when: porn themed mechanic, “I need new shocks, but I don’t have any money” malex 

Probably an established relationship thing, but Alex swinging by one day with his jeep and getting Michael to fix it, but oops, he doesn’t have any money. So they need to work out some alternate methods.

Alex doesn’t like the sounds his new car is making. Having finally gotten out of the military, he had to trade in his lovely jeep, it belonging to the Air Force and all, for an older SUV. It’s a nice car, but he knows the shocks have seen better days since the ride is bumpier than it should be. Serves him right for buying a car without taking anyone to check it out with him. Like his, oh, mechanic boyfriend. He also knows that if he comes in now, after the sale is said and done, Michael will mock him relentlessly, because yes, he should have asked him to begin with. Everyone called Michael whenever they needed something fixed, even Maria after their pretty shitty break-up (though they had become friends again), even Kyle (they still didn’t like each other).

But Michael, being the resident drunk and bad-boy always showed up. The fact that the residents of Roswell still treated him like shit even when they called him for every little thing, made Alex’s heart hurt for his sweet boyfriend.

It had taken Maria refusing to serve drinks to anyone who treated Michael like shit and The Righteous Fury of Isobel Evans, which frankly was scarier than anything, to make people treat Michael somewhat with respect. But when the Hospital’s power had shut down and no one could fix it besides Michael, saving several people (including kids) on life support, Roswell had calmed down and finally started treated him like a valuable member of their town.

Alex knows that Michael will never admit it, but people saying Hello, Thank you and Goodbye when they come by the junkyard, means more to him than anything after living so long being the pariah of the town.

But that still doesn’t help with how he can make Michael take a look at his car without being mocked. He already knows Michael would do anything for him, he would do the same for Michael, but Michael still won’t do it quietly. He’ll make stupid comments that’ll make Alex want to strangle him because he knows he’s right, and that’s not good for any relationship. Besides, Michael should never know just how many times he’s right, there will be no living with him.

Which means he needs to come up with a plan. A plan Michael hopefully won’t be able to resist going along with that will also get Alex what he wants. A plan that hopefully makes Michael forget comments and being right. Well, there’s only one plan that will work for that.

He sets course for the junkyard, knowing it’s late enough in the day that Michael is probably there alone by now, or he will be soon. It only takes him a ten minute, bumpy, drive but sure enough, Michael is alone with his top half under the hood of a gray Mercedes. He moved from under the hood as he hears the car, and smiles when he sees Alex’s car stop. He’s wearing dirty jeans, an oil stained white t-shirt and the ever-present cowboy hat on his head. Which means Alex needs to work fast and he’s ready the second he gets out of the car.

“Hey-”

“Hello Mr. Guerin,” Alex interrupts. Michael’s eyes go wide, with wonder, amusement and just a tiny bit of lust. Oh yeah, this’ll work. “I was wondering if you could take a look at the shocks of my car? They seem to be a bit… stiff.”

“I-uh. Sure, I can take a look,” Michael replies, full on gaping at him at this point.

“Oh can you, that would be very kind. It’s been a bit of a bouncy ride these last few weeks, and it keeps. Squeaking.”

“Squeaking.”

“Mhm. Maybe even more like a whimper.” He knows he’s laying it on thick, but it’s worth it for the audible swallow Michael does. He walks closer and lays a hand ever so softly against his chest. “I would really appreciate it, Mr. Guerin.”

Michael searches his eyes for a few minutes, flickering back and forth as he tries to determine what it is exactly Alex wants. In the end, he just nods, a wry smile on his lips.

“Of course, Captain Manes. Give me a few minutes to check out the, uh, situation,” he says, fingers coming up to lightly flick the brim of the cowboy hat still on his head. Alex bites his lip and smiles as he steps back and does a lazy gesture against his car, a gesture he knows make Michael nostrils flare in obvious interest, especially when paired with the lip bite. It works as well as it always does, Michael gives him a dark look before he strides over to Alex’s SUV. The examination doesn’t take more than ten minutes, as Michael walks around the car, but it does enable Alex to ogle his boyfriends fantastic behind when he bends down or crouches to check the struts and shocks on each tire.

“Yeah, the shocks definitely need replacing, might be worth checking out the rest of the suspension too, just in case. How long have you had this car?”

“Oh not that long, I bought it used. How much do you think it’ll cost me?”

Michael narrows his eyes slightly, but Alex just smiles so he will keep playing along. “Probably about a grand. They’re a bit more expensive for this kind of SUV.”

“Oh…”

“Is there a problem?” Michael asks, suspicion lacing his voice now. He knows Alex is good for it, which means he is definitely on to him.

“I don’t have that kind of money. Is there… Any other way I could pay it off?” he replies, walking with slow, measured steps towards Michael.

“Like what?”

“Hmm.” He stops in front of him, slowly pulling off his shirt, leaving him only in a blue t-shirt. He bites his lip again and looks up at Michael through his lashes as he settles his hand low on Michael’s stomach, as close to the ridiculously large belt buckle as he can. “Maybe I can help you out with that boner you seem to be getting.”

For a moment, Michael froze so completely that Alex’s brain started shouting for him to abort mission, as if he had royally fucked up by trying to play a game Michael did not approve of. But that quickly goes away as he notices Michael’s pupils dilate, the way his breath stutters for the smallest second, the way the tiniest of shivers run through his body.

“I’m sure we can work out some, arrangement,” Michael replies, the muscles of his arms tensing as if he’s preparing for something that Alex really wants to be a part of. “Maybe you can show me your particular set of skills.”

“I’d love too, Mr. Guerin.” He slides his hand down over the belt buckle, cupping Michael’s noticeably growing erection. He gets a growl directly into his ear for his troubles, the growl intensifying when he lifts his other hand and lightly flicks a nipple with his fingernail. He lifts his hand further and plucks Michael’s black hat from his head.

“Mind if I borrow this?” He asks, just as he places it firmly on his own head. Alex wearing his hat turns Michael on just as much as Michael in full mechanical mode turns Alex on and they both know it. Alex isn’t surprised when he’s swiftly turned around shoved up against the front of his SUV, Michael plastering himself to his front.

“Now, don’t be a tease, darlin’. You want that suspension checked out and those shocks replaced, I’d really like it if you would get naked so I can touch you,” Michael all but growls out. He follows his words with his hands sliding inside Alex’s t-shirt, caressing his stomach and sides as he slowly lifts the t-shirt up. Alex just lifts his hands and lets Michael take it off completely.

“Can I kiss you, Mr. Guerin?”

“Darlin’, you can do whatever you want.”

It’s enough of an invitation for Alex, who pulls Michael closer by his t-shirt and slots their lips together. Alex is good at many things, but he’s particularly good at kisser. He knows the tricks to bring Michael to his knees, the flick of a tongue against Michael’s that makes him moan, the soft sting of teeth that gets a clutch of his hips, the light brush of lips that makes Michael unable to let him go for any stretch of time. He utilizes every one of them, teasing Michael as he lifts his grease stained t-shirt up and off, as he runs his hands across his sweaty, toned upper body and down towards the always ridiculously large belt buckle, opening it with deft hands.

“How much did you say those shocks were going to cost me, again?” Alex whispers against Michael’s lips as he puts his hands down Michael’s pants, palming his erection. He’s fully hard by now, and Alex congratulates himself on another job well done. He’s also very thankful that Michael never wears underwear.

“The uh, shocks are about 200 a pop,” Michael starts, as Alex lowers the zipper on his jeans to give himself better room.

“Mhm, and checking the suspension, what’ll that cost me?”

“De-depends on if you have to do something abo-, shit, about it. Checking it fully will be around 200, changing it will be- Jesus Christ how do you expect me to concentrate when you do that?”

“When I do what?” Alex asks innocently, his hand gently rolling Michael’s balls in his hand. “I need a cost assessment so I know what I’m using my skills to pay off.”

“I’ll tell you what you can use your fucking skills for,” Michael suddenly says, one hand coming up to grip Alex’s hair as the other wrenches his hand out of his pants. “Get down on your knees, and suck me off. Make sure I’m good and hard, then I want you to turn around, open your pants and get yourself ready so I can fuck you.”

Alex takes a deep breath, as the want surges through him. “Yes, Mr. Guerin.”

Michael holds out a hand just in case he needs it, for when he goes down on the prosthesis, but Alex knows what he’s doing at this point, sliding as smoothly onto his knees as he can and pulling down Michael’s jeans at the same time. The dick in front of him is as perfect as it’s always been, it makes him want to lick Michael all over. But he doesn’t have time for that, so he settles for licking the head of Michael’s dick, causing a loud groan to escape Michael’s mouth.

“You have a beautiful dick, Mr. Guerin.”

“Jesus you’re laying it on thick,” Michael murmurs above him, which turns into another groan as Alex takes the head of his dick in his mouth and gives it a light suck.

“Don’t you like it, Mr. Guerin?”

“I do, sweetheart. Believe me, I do.”

“Good,” Alex says with a grin, before he sucks as much of Michael’s dick into his mouth as he can fit. IT’s always an experience sucking Michael’s dick, the moans he gets from tonguing the head, the slight whimper as he doesn’t cover his teeth and runs them lightly across the shaft. The shudder as he plays with the slit and fondles his balls at the same time. It’s euphoria to turn someone on this much, just by being who he is.

“That’s enough darlin’, I really don’t want to come before I get my dick inside of you,” Michael says, pulling himself back until only the head is still in Alex’s mouth, who can resist a hard suck that elicits a groan out of Michael.

“Whatever you say, Mr. Guerin,” Alex replies, as he releases the head of Michael’s erection with a soft pop. Michael holds out a hand to help him up, attentive to a fault, and drags him into a kiss when he’s back on his feet. It’s a slow, lazy kiss, tongues tangling and lips brushing as Michael opens Alex’s pants, pushing them down along with his boxers to get a hand on his ass.

“I really love your ass.”

“Good. You got lube?”

Michael replied by stretching his hand out and turning slightly towards the Airstream, where the door opened and lube zoomed into his hand seconds later. “Yes, now turn around darlin’.”

Alex didn’t answer, just pulled Michael into another short but filthy kiss before he turned around and leaned against his car. He leaned forward, separating his feet as much as he could as Michael pushed his pants and boxers even lower, his hand softly caressing the inside of Alex’s thigh as he went back up. The quiet snick of the opening lube came a second later, followed by a wet thumb ever so slightly pushing against his rim.

“Prep?”

“Don’t need much, just, please, Mr. Guerin.

Michael’s hand comes up and tangles in his hair, pulling his head backwards as he sets his teeth in Alex’s neck, biting down firmly until Alex moans loudly. He soothes the bite with his tongue after, as his thumb starts to lightly push against Alex’s entrance, testing how much prep he actually needs. Considering they had sex earlier than morning, it gives easily enough and Alex whimpers as Michael pushes his thumb as far in as he can.

“Guess you weren’t lying. Good boy,” Michael whispers hotly in his ear as he removes his thumb to another whimper from Alex, replacing it quickly enough by his finger. He moves it in and out a few times, lightly crooking his finger before joining it with a second. As much as Alex knows what makes Michael tick, vice versa is also true. Michael knows exactly how to take Alex apart with only a touch, with teeth in his neck and a hand softly pulling his hair. The two fingers moving firmly inside him are proof of that, avoiding his prostate except for intentional jabs every now and then to stimulate it, the teasing tongue that sometimes replaced the nibbling teeth just another testament to how well Michael knows him.

He whimpers again, as Michael removes his fingers. The ripping of a condom wrapper makes him look back, watching as Michael rolls it down his erection and dribbles some more lube on, winking at Alex as he notices him watching. They don’t need words at this point, the look in their eyes are more than enough to tell them if they still want this.

Michael searches his for a moment, before he lines up, his hand clutching his hip tightly as he starts to push in. The slight discomfort at the stretch is exactly why he didn’t want more prep, he likes feeling it when Michael’s not in him any more.

“You okay?” Michael asks, and Alex only nods, pushing his ass back further to get Michael to move. Michael chuckles, biting down hard on his neck to make Alex gasp as he pushes all the way in. They might be a couple that doesn’t care much for the traditional top or bottom roles, but holy hell does it feel good to have Michael inside of him, the way his dick drags just correctly, the slight angle change Michael does to push against his prostate with every motion. It drives him crazy, the way Michael takes his time, prolonging the pleasure and drawing every bit of emotion out of him. He can’t stop making noises as Michael pushes back inside of him, can’t stop the whimpers as he pulls back. He knows they are out in public, if anyone comes to the Junkyard they will see them and their drawn out coupling in full color, complete with noises and Alex looking wrecked.

He contemplates jerking himself off, but all that flies out of the window as Michael starts with the short, but powerful jabs, driving himself in and out of him with a motion that would push his own already painful erection into the SUV if Michael wasn’t holding him in place with both hands on his hips.

“Mi-Michael!” he all but screams out as Michael pushes in hard against his prostate and stays there, rotating his hips so he can drag his dig just. Right inside Alex.

“Hush, darlin’,” Michael answers back, snaking his hand around to fist Alex’s dick, holding him tight as Michael moves his hand along his dick, grinding his hips into Alex’s ass at the same time. It’s euphoric, the perfect pressure on his prostate and on his dick.

The orgasm takes him completely by surprise, it just rushes up inside of him as Michael once again tugs his hair and bites his neck in the same place as before, the sharp sting of pain and pleasure making him tumble over the edge, his dick jerking in Michael’s grip as he moans loudly, his hands curling on the hood of the car. He feels Michael still behind him, only his hand moving gently on his dick to wring every last sensation out of him, falling away when Alex lets loose a moan that means he’s about to be overstimulated. But he’s determined to see this through.

“Come on, Mr. Guerin, don’t you want to come in my ass?”

He’s lifted up by Michael’s hand snaking around his chest shortly after, the other hand still in his hair. “You are laying it on way thick.”

“Are you saying you don’t like it?” he asks, pushing his ass back against Michael’s hips. That only gets him a short growl, before Michael pushes him back down against the car, pulling out and slamming back into him.

He can’t help but moan as Michael sets a hard and fast pace, designed only for his own pleasure. It still turns him on, Michael’s hand holding him down ever so gently, as he pushes in and out of him, rough circular motions in between. He takes it all, short moans leaving him whenever Michael does something he likes particularly well.

It doesn’t take long before Michael’s rhythm starts to falter, his breathing turns rougher, his hands grip harder. Alex rides it out, pushing back against him the way he knows Michael likes until Michael pushes in deep, freezing as a guttural groan leaves him. Alex can feel him coming, feels it in the way Michael plasters himself up against his back, circling him with his arms as his hips jerks one, two times.

It’s always been one of the hottest things Alex knows, the way Michael just surrenders himself when he comes. It makes Alex grin, pulling Michael’s arms tight around him for a second.

“I don’t know what has gotten into you Alex, but that might be one of the hottest things I have ever done.”

“I just wanted to have some fun,” Alex replies, laughing softly as Michael snorts.

“You know, you didn’t have to do all that just to make me check out your shocks, I would’ve done that for free anyway.”

“I know, Michael. I wanted too.”

“Good. Also, the next time you buy a new car, just take me with you. That way you won’t buy a car with bad suspension.”

Damn it.

[aquamarineicecream]

Rewind Sanders Sides Superhero AU - Chapter 2

Ao3 Link

>Chapter 1

>Chapter 3

Buying discount Halloween candy at five A.M. was always a good idea, especially when you hadn’t slept at all in the past twenty-four hours. The surprise on the cashier’s face was evident, but Remus disregarded it as he dumped the armful of candy he had been holding onto the checkout counter with a mischievous grin. That grin only grew as he watched the cashier take in his appearance, from the worn black pirate hat on his head to the machine gun strapped to his back.

“So, how much will it be?” Remus asked, moving the dark gray mask covering his eyes up to just beneath the brim of the large feathered hat. The teen behind the cash register just stared at him for a moment, still taken aback by all the weapons Remus had on him. Remus assumed the boy could only hope they were fake. It was only when Remus cocked his head slightly to the right and his expression turned impatient that the teenager quickly started scanning and bagging the candy in front of him.

“Since most of it is 50% off it’ll be, um - ” The boy paused to read the number on the screen in front of him - “$167.93.” Remus didn’t look fazed by the high cost as he pulled five fifty dollar bills out one of the four pouches on his belt and dropped them on the counter without even checking to make sure it was the right amount. He picked up the bags and turned on his heel to leave as the cashier scrambled to get the correct amount of change from the drawer. “Wait, sir - ” the teen started, attempting to call out to the customer before he made it out of the store.

“Keep the change!” Remus interrupted, shifting the six bags full of candy he had bought to one arm so he could wave goodbye to the perplexed boy behind him before pushing out of the convenience store’s glass doors. Remus adjusted the bags so he was once again carrying three bags on each arm as he marched out into the crisp autumn night. He loved the feeling of the cool breeze on his face. Remus decided that since it was never too early to start the day, he’d go to the park for a while to relax and enjoy his first meal of the day.

As Remus walked the short way to the park, he contemplated what he was going to tell the people who had hired him for his current mission. He had known the mission was cursed from the start, of course. No one ever paid that much money for his services unless they seriously meant business. Then again, it was hard not to mean business when you ordered a hitman to take out your enemies. Although he knew that logically he should be suspicious of the rich strangers, he never had lived a life led by logic, had he? And furthermore, he always enjoyed a good challenge; it was what kept his job interesting, after all.

Remus plopped down on a lone bench under an old willow tree once he reached the park. He didn’t particularly care that a middle aged man who appeared to be homeless had already been sitting there. Remus had no qualms about setting down the bags in the space on the opposite side of the man. He lowered the black cloth covering his mouth before talking.

“You changed, little bro,” Remus addressed the man in the thin, torn coat next to him while he started looking through one of the plastic bags holding the different containers of candy. The man glanced at him in confusion before Remus took out a bag of 3 Musketeers and tossed it into the tired man’s lap. “Here, eat up. I got your favorite.” The man frowned as he opened the large bag and took out one of the individually wrapped chocolates before speaking in a rough voice.

“I don’t know you.”

Remus cackled in response. “Oh c’mon, admit it. I know it’s you. I always know it’s you. I mean,” Remus paused mid-sentence to laugh again, “I may be getting a little crazy around the edges but ever since we were kids you couldn’t fool me.” Remus grinned at the ground for a minute before getting his candy of choice from the bag. The other man just unhappily unwrapped his candy before eating it. He didn’t respond until after Remus had eaten a few sour gummy worms, but this time his voice was much livelier and more arrogant than before.

“You do know that technically even though you’re twelve minutes older than me, we’re still twins, right? So it’s not fair for you to call me your little brother,” the man said, through a mouth full of chocolate. Remus turned to face his brother and smirked when he saw the young man was dressed in his usual outfit of a white suit that strongly resembled a prince, save for the bright red cape that had a large gold ‘C’ on the back.

“Twelve minutes still counts as older, Ro.”

“What are you doing here? What time is it even? And more importantly, how much money did you spend on just candy?”

“Hey quit scolding me! You’re gonna sound like your nerd friend soon. He always has something to say about me, too. I only spend a hundred something dollars. And it’s sometime after four, I think,” Remus said, as he gave up on the gummy worms, choosing to start attacking the candy corn instead.

“A hundred dollars only on candy?!”

“It was on sale, Ro, what else was I supposed to do? God, when did you get so booooring?” Remus rolled his eyes and ended up deciding to wrap a gummy worm around a candy corn before eating it so he would have an excuse not to pay attention to Roman’s noise of offense. “Oh yeah, it was when you decided to get all high and mighty. All princely.” Remus scoffed and ate his combination of candy.

“I can’t believe you’re still bitter, Remus. It’s been literal years!” Roman crossed his arms, looking annoyed. “And you still haven’t answered my first question, though I bet I already know the answer.”

“You’ve gotta remind me what that question was cause you know how bad I am at remembering stuff.” Remus was still smirking to himself as he treated himself to more of the delectable treats before him while Roman glared in his direction.

“You’re going after Virgil Messana, aren’t you?” Roman’s tone was accusatory but Remus didn’t bother looking up from the mixed Hershey's bag he was rifling through.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You’re a terrible liar, Remus.” Roman had stopped glaring for the moment and instead had taken to getting out another piece of candy. He missed the frown on Remus’s face as Remus finally looked up from his own bag.

“What gave me away? I was so careful that he wouldn’t see me.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Roman started sarcastically, “Maybe the fact that you hit me with a car while I was going after him!” Roman turned to glare fiercely at his brother.

“Wait, that was today?” Remus responded lightly. “Oops. My bad, Ro. But I guess you’re right. I am after him. I was hired by some shady fellas to get rid of him. I still don’t get why though. He’s just some skinny kid our age.” The container of Lemonheads on his lap was forgotten momentarily as Remus fidgeted with the edges of his fingerless black leather gloves.

“It’s weird to think that we have the same target again. And not a good kind of weird.” Roman ate another piece of chocolate before continuing, “But the good part about doing this my way is that I got to read Messana’s case file.” Remus looked intrigued before Roman had even finished speaking.

“What does it say? Who is this Mr. Nobody from Nowhere that everyone wants dead?” Remus looked borderline desperate, as though his life hinged on getting the answers to his burning questions. Roman, on the other hand, looked almost smug to have the upper hand over his twin.

“It’s getting late. I should really get going, Remus. The others will be worried if I don’t get back soon.” Roman flashed Remus his signature grin before grabbing a handful of chocolate and slipping it in a hidden pocket in his suit. He moved the bag from his lap to the bench beside him before standing up and dusting off his knee length cape. Remus grabbed Roman’s hand, looking at him like a child trying to convince his parents to buy him ice cream. Roman, however, simply pulled out of his grasp. “I really do need to go. I’d hate for Logan to wake up and see that Pat and Dee and I are all still gone. I’ll see you around. And you know I’d wish you good luck if we weren’t after the same target.” Roman hesitated for a moment before adding in a much softer tone than with which he usually spoke, “Take care of yourself, brother.” It was clear Remus hadn’t been paying attention or cared enough to acknowledge it though, so Roman turned around with a sigh, his sad expression only lasting for a second before it morphed into what felt like someone else’s face entirely.

“Ro, wait!” Remus called after Roman, after the former had already walked a bit away. Roman instantly froze in place, waiting with bated breath to hear what Remus had to say. “At least tell me why Messana is so important!” Remus shouted, causing Roman to release his breath. Roman should’ve known to expect another question about their target. After all, he had taught himself by now not to expect anything even vaguely reminiscent of fraternal concern nor caring remarks from his brother.

“They said that if he lived, this guy Virgil would change everything,” was Roman’s only response. Remus stayed silent, for once at a loss for what to say. The beaten down, middle aged man in the weathered brown coat walked out of the park without another word, disappearing in the light of the sunrise.

Next Chapter>>

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@milomeepit , @captainhadeslover , @yep-another-fander , @pattson , @lala-the-rebel , @artistictaurean , @ironwoman359 , @ab-artist , @wicked-rosie , @starsinger , @superarrowholockian , @shapoodle , @virgil-the-virgin , @fun-with-colors , @theloveliestsweetspongy , @anastasialestina , @inferablossom , @confused-pat , @midnighteclipse98 , @silversmith-91 , @pattons-second-cookie , @harboring-hatred , @creativenostalgiastuff , @sadb0tt , @today-only-happens-once , @thelogicalloganipus , @the-shark-boi , @mantha-has-fallen , @averaillisa , @emochechirecat , @camillenicole , @thedukeofdeodorant-main, @time-out-for-thee , @sandersstuffsblog , @letsmoonkid , @iampengwing , @5150brotherbear , @approximately12lbs-of-ducks , @bexxbeauty , @elvis-has-been-dug , @ollyollyoxinfree , @magsnine , @littlewolf432 , @logical-princey

[artificialqueens]

Elastic Heart - Part 7/10 (Branjie) - Mia Ugly

A/N: I told you I was going to post the rest quickly before the show changed it up too much, so here we are. Thanks again to this amazing group, with its brilliant mods and incomparable writers.  And as an aside: I may have some feelings about Dr. Ganache, but she is NOT a villain here.  She is a problematic and protective friend.  No tea. No shade.

Brock drives to Orlando. 

He stops at West Palm Beach, digs his toes into the white sand and then dips them in the ocean.   The beach is crowded with tourists (Brock knows that he’s one of them) and he wishes briefly for a wide brimmed hat. He leaves before he can burn too badly, though he takes a couple selfies at the shoreline.  Give his manager something to work with at least.

He drives slow along the coast.  Around noon he stops at a fresh fruit stand and buys starfruit (for some reason, even though he’s never tasted it, it just seems like the thing to do.) He buys some peaches and a bag of pecans too because the lady at the stand is sweet and nosy and reminds him of his grandmother. Later on, when he finds a pretty place to pull over, he sits on the hood of the rental car and eats the peach, skin and all. It tastes like summer, tastes like being young. Brock took family trips through the Okanagan as a child, can remember the fresh fruit that fell apart in your hands, turned to syrup on your tongue.

In Orlando, he finds a cheap hotel and he naps for a few hours (sleep is precious and rare, a religious icon) before he showers. Dresses in the butchest, most invisible clothing he brought with him (he’s got a lot of options and that’s a bit distressing.) If Jose’s not there, Brock doesn’t really want to be recognized, doesn’t want it to turn into a thing. And if Jose is there, well, he’s seen Brock in a lot worse.

Brock eats the pecans he bought (he needs to google ‘How to eat starfruit’ and decides it’s too much work for the situation) and the other peach.  He finds a bar nearby and drinks one drink (just one, he’s got to stay focused) slowly, and alone. No one looks at him.  No one recognizes him. The worn grey sweatshirt is apparently doing the fucking trick.

He takes an Uber to Vanjie’s club, because he doesn’t want to worry about driving. There’s a poster of her in the window, dressed in some sort of bejeweled body-suit, and it makes Brock smile. Build your brand, girl (the smile feels unfamiliar on his mouth.)

The bar is crowded.  Loud.  There’s a DJ playing and crowds of tanned men in tanktops grinding on the dance floor. It makes Brock feel older than he is, and he slinks through the knots of people to get to the bar, squeeze into the inch of available space and order a vodka soda.

He stirs the ice in his drink, and tries to come up with a plan.  Jose’s here. He’s here, or he will be here, and Brock can see him. Hear his voice. Just for tonight, and then he’ll leave it all behind him like exhaust fumes.

The drink disappears too quickly, and Brock orders another. He keeps his head down, tries to be inconspicuous. He must give off some kind of heartbroken vibe because no one has the time or energy for him tonight.

He’s glancing around anxiously - wondering when the show will start and whether Jose will make an appearance before then - when someone clears their throat loudly. Leaning up against the bar, only a few handsy drunk guys between them, is Silky fucking Ganache.

Great.

“Miss Brooke Lynn Hytes.” Silky’s in full face, sickening hair, and a purple-sequined mermaid gown. She comes toward Brock, pushing the people between them out of the way as if they were dandelion fluff. “Now what might you be doin’ here?”

Brock should be surprised to see her, but he isn’t. Silky and Jose seem connected at the hip lately, and that’s good. He’s glad Jose has someone he loves close by, someone so clearly protective of him. 

Brock air-kisses Silky on each cheek, unenthusiastically.

“Just in the neighbourhood.”

“What neighbourhood is that? Last I heard you were up in Canada, couldn’t cross the border.”

Brock rolls his eyes. “I had a show yesterday.  Thought I’d come say hi.”

“Ain’t you sweet. And lookin’ so fine too.” She gives his sweatshirt an understandably critical eye. “The good stuff ain’t started yet, honey, but that’s what it is. Suppose you’re lookin’ for Miss Vanjie.”

Brock doesn’t flinch.  He doesn’t.

“Don’t know if she’ll want to see your ass,” Silky continues. “She still tryin’ to get her head right after everything.”

“Yeah. Things got messed up.” Brock stirs at the ice in his drink, wanting to keep his hands busy.  “I messed them up.”

“You don’t got to tell me that.” The expression on her face leaves Brock with no question as to what Silky thinks of him, and that’s fine.  Or  - understandable anyway.

 “Is she backstage?”

“Nah, baby, she left already. Canceled her appearance, went off with some fine piece of ass. She probably off sucking his dick in a car somewhere.”

Brock almost drops his drink.  A part of him wishes he had; the sound of breaking glass could’ve drowned out all the other things that are breaking.

But then he hears a laugh across the crowded bar, a laugh that he would recognize anywhere - ninety years old and deaf and blind, he would still know Vanjie’s laugh by the way it raised goosebumps on his skin.

“Or did she?” Silky frowns. “Oops, my bad.”

Brock looks in the direction of the laugh, a group of people that have just emerged from the green room. For a moment he can’t see anyone clearly - and then Vanjie’s blonde bombshell wig catches the lights, and he can see her face. Clearly, for the first time in months. She’s smiling and has some kind of silvery lipstick on, and to cross the floor to get to her would probably take him thirty seconds.

But.

But she’s leaning into someone, a muscular dark-haired guy with tattoos winding up his arms. She’s smiling as she looks at him, as she moves closer, as her lips find the corner of his mouth. 

(He knew, of course. Yvie told him. He’d heard rumours online. He thought that forewarning would take some of the bite out of seeing it in person, but he was wrong. There are teeth at his throat, all of them filed into points.)

“You think she wants any of your sad-boy bullshit right now?” Silky snorts. “I dunno. Seems to be having herself a good time.”

Brock holds his breath. Plays out all the ways this could go. Vanjie hasn’t seen him yet, and her smile is wide and white-toothed. If he crosses the floor right now, he knows that smile will drop, that her eyes will go hard, that her back will stiffen.  He could go over there, cross the floor and have her within hands reach. He could touch her shoulder (Brock’s heart might live behind walls, but his body does not) and completely ruin her night.

But she looks beautiful. She looks happy.

“She ain’t even spotted your ass yet.  You ain’t got to cause no drama.” Silky looks between Brock and Vanjie, eyes narrowed. “Tell you what, why don’t you run along, Miss Brooke Lynn? She don’t even got to know you were here.”

Brock gives Silky a flat look.  The two of them aren’t friends, won’t ever be friends, but they have one thing desperately in common.  That one thing cuts through all the bullshit, right through to the bone.  

“How’s she doing?” Brock asks, and Silky shrugs.

“She fine as hell, what you want me to say? She getting on with it.  She got her girls looking out for her.”

“How are you doing?”

Silky laughs. “Just waitin’ around to collect my prize money.  Baby, you should see me in a crown.”

Silky might be convinced of her certain victory, but she’s as in the dark as everyone else. Brock didn’t know until he got to Drag Race that production films multiple endings for the series, that the top queens don’t find out who wins until the last episode airs. 

Of course, it could never be said that Silky lacks in confidence.

“Will you - tell her I was here? That I didn’t want to interrupt her.”

“Nah, bitch. You in her head too much already, and I ain’t your messenger.”

Across the bar, Vanjie laughs - loud and gravelly and gorgeous. Brock wishes he could capture that laugh like a jar full of fireflies and keep it. Visit it whenever he got tired, whenever he forgot that there were good things in the world, and once he had been part of one.

There’s maybe forty feet between Brock and Vanjie.  It feels like an ocean (but she looks happy. What more can he ask for?)

“Take care of yourself,” Brock says to Silky. “See you on tour.”

“How will I ever survive the wait?” Silky waves him away. “Yeah, go on home, Brooke. We good here.”

And it’s only because Brock can’t bear to see the smile fall from Vanjie’s face. It’s only because he didn’t let her know he was coming, and doesn’t want to surprise her and throw off her act. It’s only because she’s running her hands over another man’s shoulders with those dark, smoky eyes she gets sometimes - that’s the only reason Brock leaves. 

He isn’t afraid. 

He calls himself the worst sorts of names as he gets a ride back to his hotel. Then he raids the minibar and tells himself it’s all for the best.  

He got to see her. She looked beautiful (but she always looks beautiful) and happy. That’s all he can ask for.

Nina has texted him twice since that morning.

“Brock?”

And then: “BROCK???”

Brock wants to drink some more vodka and then blissfully pass out. 

Instead. 

He phones a friend.

* * *

So.  

There’s a music video challenge, and Brooke Lynn bombs it.  It’s not as bad as Snatch Game, but she’s nowhere close to the talent of A’Keria and Silky, and Yvie’s not as strong but she’s better than Brooke. Brooke’s gotten in her head again, hearing that voice on repeat telling her she’s not funny, she’s awkward, she’s letting people down (this is for the Top Five WHAT ARE YOU EVEN DOING -)

So.  She’s prepared to lip sync. It’s not like the last time, the time against Yvie.  Today she knows with one hundred percent certainty that it’s coming.

And she knows she’s going to be up against Vanjie. The great moment of television that Yvie predicted is finally here.  Give us all a fucking Emmy.

Vanjie is struggling with even the mini-challenges lately, and Brooke is trying to convince herself that it’s not her fault. They haven’t spoken privately since that night in Vanjie’s room (and that was a fucking mistake but Brooke still is having trouble regretting it. She wanted her.  She still wants her. And fuck, it wasn’t the right time but Brooke would get on her knees for Vanjie in the middle of the werkroom if the other queen asked.  Which she won’t, but. 

Brooke would do it.)

There’s defeat in Vanjie’s eyes now, like she’s waiting to get called out by the judges, like it’s inevitable that she’ll be the next one sent home. Even though she’s survived two lip syncs already, even though she’s changed up her silhouette so Michelle can’t keep reading her - Vanjie’s not having fun anymore. From the outside looking in at least (and Brooke is certainly on the outside now) it seems like she isn’t.

Did Brooke do that? Or was it just the show? As the production keeps going, Brooke feels her own spark dimming as well.  She wants to celebrate each elimination that she survives, but she’s also really fucking tired and - she’s in it until the end, of course, but she’s glad that the end is in sight.

So.

Top Five.

They leave the runway while the judges deliberate. Vanjie doesn’t say a word, just walks off on her own with her earbuds in. A’Keria gives Brooke an anxious look before she follows her.

Brooke gets a cocktail, drinks it too fast.

She knows tonight’s song by heart, has danced to it before. She waits until A’Keria comes back to the couch, whispers something in Silky’s ear before raising an eyebrow at Brooke.

“You better have a word with your girl,” A’Keria says.  “She ain’t right.”

She’s not my girl, Brooke wants to say, but she also wishes that it were true. She wishes Vanjie was hers, that they’d met somewhere normal and boring and didn’t have all this extra shit in between them.  It would have been different then. Brooke would have been different, not so in her head, not so reserved. They would have been able to touch and fuck and spend time alone like normal people.  

They might have made it.  Could have made it.

Brooke resists the urge to build a pillow fort when all she wants to do is bury herself, so deep she disappears. Instead, she gets off the couch and goes after Vanjie.

The impossible object of Brooke’s affections is sitting at the mirrors, eyes closed and earbuds in. She looks like a scene from a painting, a still from a classic black-and-white movie. Brooke puts a hand on her shoulder to get her attention (and they both pretend they don’t notice her flinch.) 

When Vanessa opens her eyes, they’ve got that dark, glassy look that Brooke recognizes. It’s the same look she had when Yvie suddenly turned on her in the backstage lounge, all those nights ago. It’s the look she had after the Snatch Game, when Ru told Brooke she was up for elimination. It’s pain and surprise, swirled together like ink.

“You doing okay?” Brooke asks.

Vanessa takes out one of her earbuds and nods, tightly. She doesn’t look at Brooke.

“And you’re ready?”

The other queen takes a deep breath before she answers. “I ain’t gonna let you off easy just cuz you’re pretty.”

Brooke laughs, startled, and the corner of Vanjie’s mouth curls.  It’s like they’re okay for a minute, like they’re back on the beach, that sunny afternoon when Brooke first realized that her heart was not her own anymore.  That it had somehow stretched itself into Vanjie’s hands, wound around her fingers.

For a minute, it’s like that. 

“I wish I’d met you earlier,” Brooke says because she has to, because the words are burning through her throat.  “At a club or something. Not here.” 

She won’t cry, she tells herself.  She can’t cry.

“Well.  What you gonna do?” Vanjie still has her eyes fixed on the mirror, fussing with her wig (her hands are shaking). “Gotta go out there and do what you do best, bitch. It’s what you came here for.”

“That was before-“

“Before what? Before you met me? Don’t expect me to believe that Miss Brooke Lynn.” Vanjie finally looks at her, a hint of her old self bleeding through the armour she’s put on. “You’re here for a crown. So go and get it.” She gives Brooke a stare that’s part challenge, part longing, and all heartache. “If you think you can.”

Brooke swallows around the tightness in her throat.  Then she nods (when what she really wants to do is take Vanjie’s hand and pull her out of her chair, kick down the door and get out of this studio. Fight off the P.A.s, find a cab, go to LAX, run the fuck away. Together. Leave this all behind and start over.)

“Kill it,” she says instead. “Show ‘em why they brought you back.” 

“You know I fucking will.” Vanjie puts her earbud back in, goes back to her own world. 

Brooke doesn’t dare touch her again, and walks away to a separate corner of the lounge. She realizes suddenly that the other girls are quiet.  Even Silky. There’s none of the shouting and laughing that usually fills the air backstage. When they talk, it’s almost in whispers. It feels more like a funeral than a reality show. 

Brooke puts her earbuds in, turns up the volume. She can taste her heart thumping in her throat. She told herself she wouldn’t get distracted. This thing with Vanjie wouldn’t become a problem.

And now the moment has come.  And it’s so much more than just a problem. 

In her ear Sia sings: “And another one bites the dust. Oh why can I not conquer love?”

Brooke loves this fucking song. She doesn’t need to practice; she knows exactly what she’s going to do.

Go out there on that stage and slay.  

Go out there and break her own heart.

(If she had met Vanjie in a club, she would have heard her before she saw her. 

She would have clocked that laugh immediately and thought up a million reasons to go talk to her. If she had met her at a club, Brooke would have bought her a drink and asked if she wanted to get out of there ten minutes later. She would have taken her to the beach, to a bookstore, to the park, to a thrift shop.  She would have wanted to hear her voice and ask her questions - how did you start doing drag? What’s your favourite song? What were your grandparents like? Who was the first person that broke your heart?

What keeps you up at night? Who are you when your paint is off and the lights go down and you’re alone at home and tired? Who do you think about? What were your pets named?  How do you feel about cats?

If she had met Vanjie in a club, they would have talked about Monique Heart in AllStars, and the  miracle of seeing Latrice live, and how Drag Race could be problematic AF but make a queen’s career. Change their life. How they’d give anything to get on it.

If she had met Vanjie anywhere else, Brooke would have still wanted her.)

It hits her like a punch, driving the wind from her lungs.  Vanessa had told her to figure out what she wanted. And at last - Brooke has. 

Just when everything’s about to fall apart, Brooke has.

“I’ve got thick skin and an elastic heart

but your blade it might be too sharp.”

“Five minutes,” a P.A. calls, and the other queens start to get their heels back on, finish the last sips of their cocktails.  

Yvie pats her on the shoulder as she walks by. “It’s you and me in the Top Two, girl. Deal with it.” 

Even Yvie’s encouragement comes off as a bit threatening, but the consistency is enough to make Brooke smile. 

This is it. 

She intercepts Vanessa before she goes back onstage. They stand inches apart, breathing in each other’s air. They do not touch.

(“Hi Papi.”)

(“Shoulda known you’d be a Pisces.”)

(“Y’had something on your face, Hytes.”)

(“I like the way you are.”)

“Hello, hello, hello Miss Brooke Lynn,” Vanessa says finally and Brooke swallows a laugh that might be a sob.

“Miss Vaaaanjie.”

“I’ma hold you to that Oliver Garden dinner,” Vanessa smiles wide but her eyes are shining. “You  made a promise, ho, you ain’t done with me.”

Brooke shakes her head ‘no’ (will she ever be done with Vanessa? She can’t imagine a world where that would be possible, where she could look at Vanjie and not fall utterly to pieces.)

Brooke holds out her hand. Vanjie looks at it a bit dubiously before she takes it. Their fingers lace as if they never were apart.

They’re still holding hands when they go back to the mainstage.

After it’s announced that they’re both up for elimination, Ross Matthews starts covertly wiping away tears. It’ll make for a great episode, Brooke thinks, and wishes that the voice in her head didn’t sound so bitter.

“Brooke Lynn Hytes.  Vanessa Vanjie Mateo.  The time has come for you to lip-synch for. Your. Life.”  

Brooke can feel Vanessa’s pulse fluttering like a bird against her fingertips. She’s terrified, Brooke realizes. 

Brooke is too.

(“You be careful girl.” A’Keria’s voice rings from somewhere in the background of her memories.

“You know what you’re doing?” Yvie is scowling at her on the beach, and Brooke swallows down  every instinct she has that’s screaming “NO.”)

“Good luck.  And don’t fuck it up.”

Brooke lets Vanjie’s hand slide from her grasp.  It feels like saying goodbye. 

And the music plays.

[catsafarithewriter]

"I met them in an alley one and since then I cant seem to get rid of them" with the lovely lost ladies? If that inspires you

A/N: You know, I fully expected this prompt to be applied to Muta, but this direction was a really fun surprise. One lovely lost ladies ficlet coming up!

[I’m still open to prompts! Send me any from these three prompt lists.]

It was easy, sometimes, to forget that Louise was only mostly cat.

In some things it didn’t matter. She still purred when when pleased, her fur rose when angry, and Persephone had been explicitly banned from ever wielding a laser pointer again. 

Still, there were occasions when the reality slapped Persephone like a dead fish to the face and she had to remind herself that Louise wasn’t just not mortal, but not entirely cat either. 

Like today. 

Persephone inhaled slowly through her nose, her paws clasped against her chin in a fashion she had originally adopted when dealing with short-sighted advisors. It wasn’t a manner she often had to indulge in around her wife. 

“What,” she asked eventually, when the flight or fight response had been forcibly subdued, “is that?”

Louise glanced to the creature at her side and, if she had any inkling as to the situation, her brain hadn’t seen fit to inform her face yet. “I’m not actually sure,” she admitted. “I’ve named him George.”

Persephone exhaled, and this time the breath whistled through her paws. “You’ve named a ten-foot snake-monster George.”

“I’m open to suggestions.”

“Why–” Persephone inhaled sharply again as the feline instinct to scram reared its ugly head, and she was forced to take several shaky steps back in order to preserve her dignity. “What is it doing here?”

“Following me, it seems. I met him in an alley and I can’t seem to get rid of him.”

“We’re in the middle of volcanic wastelands!” Persephone cried, the absurdity of the situation finally getting to her. “Where did you find an alley in the five minutes I turned my back on you?”

Louise’s eyes lit up - not the reaction Persephone had been expecting - and she grabbed her wife’s paw. “You have to see this.” She dragged Persephone through the maze of towering rock formations while the sound of the snake-monster slithering behind them followed. They came to a halt where the canyon abruptly opened out. 

“Voila!” Louise released Persephone to gesture dramatically to the stone archway dominating the entrance, and the stone buildings that lay beyond it. “Queen Persephone of the Cat Kingdom, I present to you the Lost City of Igneus!” She bowed to an invisible audience. “Thank you, thank you, oh you’re too kind…”

Persephone drifted past Louise, too accustomed to her wife’s dramatics to spare much more than a congratulatory pat. “It’s real,” she breathed. “It’s really real.”

“Did you ever doubt me?”

“Well, there was a moment with the fissure vent…”

“We escaped unharmed, didn’t we?”

“Say that to my coat,” Persephone reminded her, but offhandedly. She laid a paw against the stone foundations of the archway, eyes exploring the engravings etched along its surface, and an encompassing calmness filled her and settled into her lungs, a deep-rooted contentedness that this was the life she had chosen. 

Louise stepped up beside her, and for a moment Persephone thought she might be having the same wanderlust, but then she drew her wide-brimmed hat across her face and said, “It’s quiet.” Head and hat tilted to one side. “Too quiet.”

Persephone snorted and the previous grandeur was eclipsed by humour. “Come on, I didn’t venture into this oven of a world just so I could stand at the gateway of a lost city.” But as she stepped through and onto the dusty street, she had to admit there was an uncomfortably heavy silence that blanketed the city. 

“Are you getting adventure vibes?” Louise asked. “I’m getting adventure vibes.”

“The only vibes I’m getting is creep vibes from the monster you’ve decided to adopt.”

Her wife gave a mock gasp. “Don’t go calling George a monster!” 

“Louise, he’s a ten-foot snake-thing with glowing red eyes.”

“Nobody’s perfect.” 

“Pretty sure he still has blood on his teeth.”

“It might be strawberry jam.”

“In the middle of a volcanic wasteland?”

“Which makes it unlikely, but not impossible.” A warm breeze wafted through the deserted city, and Louise lifted her head to inhale its heat haze scent. “I am right though. This place is abandoned.”

Persephone stopped by the empty doorway of a grand domed building, a space where a door had once been gaping before her. She slipped inside. The arches of the dome remained, but patches of sunlight filtered down through the gaps worn by years of neglect and shimmered in natural spotlights. Only the stone remained now. 

Persephone’s pawsteps echoed across the expansive room. “The scale and space of this building probably means it was used to house large numbers of people,” she murmured, more to herself than Louise. “A public place, most likely. The location implies it was important, centring the settlement like this. A town hall, maybe? Hard to tell with only the walls left, and it’s not as if we’re familiar with the culture of this world, so...” She trailed off, sensing Louise’s gaze on her. “What?”

“Oh, nothing. Just admiring my wife being clever.”

“Were your flirting attempts always this obvious?” Still, Persephone didn’t protest as Louise’s arms circled her, instead leaning back into the embrace. “Lou, Louise, I’m trying to work something out here.” 

“I can’t help it. I’m attracted to smart pretty ladies. It overrides my common sense.” 

“What common sense?” Persephone muttered, but she still leant further back and planted a kiss on her wife’s cheek. Her eyes lingered on her love, and then drifted to the snake monster that continued to linger in the doorway. “This would be so much more romantic if your pet monster wasn’t watching right now,” she whispered. 

“His name is George,” Louise mumbled. 

Persephone’s gaze moved uneasily past the creature, and she abruptly straightened, shrugging out of the embrace. “There’s writing on the walls.” She kissed Louise as apology for the sudden mood shift, and beelined for the nearest section of wall. 

Louise rolled her eyes to the ceiling. “This is what I get for marrying a queen who actually paid attention in class.”

“There’s markings all across the room,” Persephone said excitedly, bringing out a notebook and flicking through the pages. “They’re pretty worn away, but the alphabet combined with the vowel to consonant distribution implies it has roots in dragonese, with a grammar that I’ve seen in some variations of dwarvian languages...”

“Can you read it?”

“I can possibly guess at a few words that overlap from other languages, but that’s no guarantee they’ll actually mean the same thing.” Persephone trailed a paw up along the faded lines of writing. “For instance, this could either be a law concerning landowner boundaries, or...” She trailed off, her nose wrinkling. “Oh.” 

“What does it say?”

“Landowner boundaries. Definitely.”

“Sephie, you can’t just say that and not tell me.”

“Oh, look. This section is about how to settle inheritance disputes,” Persephone said quickly. “This whole room must have originally been covered with the laws of the land. Maybe this was a courtroom?”

Louise narrowed her eyes but didn’t argue too much as Persephone moved to another section of wall, already attempting to roughly translate another line. She drifted across the room, listening as Persephone called out some of the odder quirks of translation. 

“Apparently it was illegal to own more than two goats,” Persephone called. “Wait, that can’t be right...”

“Maybe they had really scary goats.”

“That might be two horns. Horns? No, that’s not right either...”

Louise came to the far end of the hall, absent-mindedly patting George on the head as he slithered up to her, and stopped. Here there were the same faint markings, but a set that were far newer were engraved across the centre. “Hey, honey...?”

“I think I’ve got it! This whole section is about the military and weapons - it must be referring to a kind of weapon, perhaps one made out of a horn?”

“Persephone!”

“Okay, I’m coming!” She hurried over, her eyes bright and her arms full trying to keep her note-taking in some semblance of order, and halted as she reached the same wall. “Oh, Bast.” 

“My adventure senses are tingling.”

Persephone approached the writing, not giving Louise any response except in giving the snake monster a wide berth. “That’s... that’s something.”

“I knew it.”

“It’s... It’s mostly in the same language, the grammar has mostly survived, but the spelling has changed.”

“Which means...?”

“Which means we’re looking at writing made much later than the laws, maybe a hundred years later. Maybe more. A bit like comparing Old Cat against Modern Cat hieroglyphics. Same language, same people... but to have defaced a building that was clearly a cultural centre of the city... I think we may be looking at one of the last things the people of the Lost City of Igneus left.” 

“Are you sure?”

“Well, there’s all that, and then there’s the fact the first word is translated from every dragonese dialect as ‘danger’.” Persephone glanced back. “You’re loving this, aren’t you?”

“Ancient lost city mysterious abandoned? This is what I was made for.”

“You would have thought your artisan would have made you out of sturdier stuff than wood then,” Persephone muttered, but she went back to the engraving. “Warning,” she roughly translated. “Beware the red... oh...”

“Oh?” Louise echoed. “This better not be a thinly-veiled euphemism again.”

“I never said the landowner laws were,” Persephone protested. 

“You didn’t need to. So, what’s the verdict? Where do we go looking for adventure and danger?”

“We don’t need to. We’ve already found it. Or, rather, you have.” Persephone tilted her head back to Louise. “It says ‘beware the red-eyed serpent.’”

They both turned to look at George. 

George smiled and smoke began pouring out of his mouth. 

“Oh,” Louise said. “Oops.”

[obsidiancreates]

Could you please explain your Oc's looks? I would appreciate it if you could be a little detailed? :)

I’m afraid I still don’t know entirely how Malum and Haley look, but I’ve got the other three down!

I have some drawings of them on here! I’ll reblog them later for reference!

Carter is black, and has curly black hair that’s just a little too long to be considered tidy. When I first drew him I drew his hair as straight and going just down past his ears, and then a little while ago I realized “Oop, wait, his hair would be naturally curly, wouldn’t it? Whoops.” His eyes are also yellow, though I’m considering maybe changing that sometime.

He wears a yellow suit, not a bright yellow but not quite pastel either, just soft. His pants are the same color. He has a white button-down undershirt, and an orange tie that he keeps tucked into his suit so that the end of the tie isn’t visible. His shoes are just normal brown dress shoes. He has a hat, it’s one of these ones that’s like a really short top-hat, kind of like a bowler hat but not exactly. Like um... like Bert’s hat during the little animated carnival sequence in Marry Poppins! But it’s yellow, not made of straw, and has an orange stripe just above the brim!

(I just started on Malum and realized I should probably include about cheekbones and jaws.) Carter’s got a good jawline. His cheekbones are average, he didn’t care much about them when making the body.

Ashlyn is quite pale. She has bright ginger hair, which she usually keeps in a ponytail. It would go just past her shoulders if she wore it down. Her eyes are a sort of blue-green. 

She wears rather basic clothes. A gray hoodie, a solid color t-shirt (usually a light pink, she likes pink), blue jeans, and some kind of sneakers, color doesn’t matter there she just cares if they’re comfy. She also has an apron that she wears while baking, it’s pink and says “Made With Love” on the front in red bubble letters. Her grandma made it for her, it’s a little stained and has seen a lot of use.

(Editing to add about them cheeks...) Ashlyn is a little soft. Not a lot, because all the adventures are both good workouts and sometimes they will result in not eating enough for a long time, but she’s on the softer, chubbier side. I didn’t have this in my original drawing because I didn’t decide that then. Anyway, her face is more round and soft than everyone else’s. 

Evelyn is also quite pale. She has black hair, the ends a bright sky-blue. It’s rather short, going down to just above her shoulders. Her eyes are also blue. When she’s in human form they’re a normal blue, maybe a little brighter than typical, probably quite close to Jack’s eye color for reference. When she’s in her magic form, her eyes are a bright, kind of glowy sky-blue, like her hair ends (I only have one colored pencil close to what I imagine so I have to use the same one for bother her hair and eyes).

She wears a black leather jacket, a purple t-shirt underneath, ripped jeans (usually black, gray, or dark blue), and nice sturdy boots (black or gray) with criss-crossing straps on the front . She also has a necklace with a silver chain and round sapphire pendant, but that’s usually hidden in her shirt.

Her magic form includes: the previously mentioned glowing blue eyes with slit sort of cat or snake like pupils, four black horns coming from her head ( two closer to the front that curve in like they’re trying to touch each other, two bigger ones that curve outward like they’re trying to get away from each other), long and lithe claws on her hands, pointed teeth, and two wings. The wings are... damn, I forget their color. I think a sort of gray-blue? We’ll see when I find the drawings.

Cheekbones and jaw. I am shit at drawing face structure, but oh my goodness. She doesn’t even need claws with her cheekbones and jaw, honestly. In a good way though.

I... may have been feeling extra gay when I decided how she looked. It was before I knew I was Bi but... I’m a little gay for my own character, not gonna lie. Even when she’s in magic form.

Haley... she has brown hair and brown eyes, I know that. Her hair is sort of wavy, and it goes down to her shoulders. Not above, not past, right at her shoulders. She usually wears it down. She’s also pale (I didn’t realize that Carter was the only character of color until after I made the main five, so most of the other sort of side-OCs are characters of color to make up for it). 

She wears dresses a lot, usually with shorts or tights underneath. Her parents made her wear flats all the time, and while she does genuinely like them, she mostly wears sneakers because they have less uncomfortable memories attached. The dresses are usually sort of like t-shirt dresses or something, simple and loose and comfy! And of course her necklace from her aunt. I haven’t settled on a design, but it’s definitely gold. 

Her cheekbones and jaw aren’t crazy, they’re just average. She was kind of gaunt for a while, with the stress of her home life at her parent’s and them not exactly taking the best care of her and not letting her take very good care of herself... but she’s healthier now, her face is more full, and she looks pretty normal!

Malum. I have no fucking clue with this man. Very pale, because he’s kind of... dead-ish? Not exactly, but he is a demon, and his blood isn’t blood-blood it’s demon blood. I think he’s got a strong jaw, just good bone structure in general, though his cheeks are probably a bit gaunt so he looks more tragic. His eyes are dark, dark brown when he’s in human form, orange when he’s in demon form.

His hair... probably black, mostly neat but long enough to get in his eyes sometimes. Maybe like, layered? I don’t know. 

He’s really tall. I know that. Maybe muscular? Maybe not? I can’t decide. I mean, probably not very, at least visably, because that wouldn’t look very tragic, but I also had this idea about his design that I make him look like a sort of stereotypical “bad boy love interest” character, because he’s not a bad boy at all and he’s actually super sweet and soft, so that would be a funny contrast. But yeah, can’t decide.

Um... in terms on clothes, a lot of elbow length sleeve shirts I think. I think he has a maroon one he really likes. Probably a few normal t-shirts as well. I bet he’s got at least one with a cheesy pun or something on it, but he’d never let Carter know that. A lot of jeans, black and blue and maybe gray. Just sneakers really, for shoes. 

I’m sorry this took forever! I hope this was satisfactory! 

[nialledfromfics]

Number One Girl

*warning for sexually explicit content*

I was his friend. Have been for ages. Way before he became famous and, to be honest, really nothing had changed. Well, maybe a little. But totally for the better.

I was what he liked to call his ‘regular’. Not very romantic, I knew that, but we didn’t really do romance. We did each other. He had a couple other ‘regulars’, random girls that I didn't really know, but I was his ‘Number One Girl’, as he like to put it and he always made sure to remind me of that. I wasn’t sure if it was because we had been friends the longest or because of my killer blowjob skills, but whatever the reason was, it didn’t really matter. I was just happy to be one of the lucky ones, because that boy could honestly make me feel like no other. I did have other guys that I was with, never anything serious, but I would drop everything the moment I got the text that he was back in town. It didn’t matter where I was, what time it was or who I was with. When he summoned me, I came. In so many fucking ways.

I was his first ‘regular’ and, to be honest, I kinda like taking credit for the idea. With his career, with how famous he had gotten in such a short amount of time and how busy he was, it seemed like a totally great solution. He wasn’t really into having a girlfriend, didn’t have time for it and it was hard for him to trust people, to trust girls not to run their mouths and blab to every tabloid that was willing to pay for a 'breaking story'. It had happened before to one of the others and the thought of it terrified Niall.

So one night, as we were casually laid out on his couch just hanging out as usual, he brought up the subject out of the blue. "It's just hard, ya know?" he mentioned, running his sweaty palm across his thigh, his blue eyes glancing down.

I totally understood where he was coming from, it must’ve been a horrible feeling to not be able to fully trust others with something so...intimate. So private. So without another moment of hesitation, I offered myself to him. I offered to let him use me if he wanted to, for whatever he wanted to. He could trust me. We were friends.

He surprisingly declined at first, the look on his face priceless and one I would never forget, and he said that he would never be able to do that. To just use me like that, we were too good of friends and he knew me too well. But the thing was, I had always been attracted to Niall; he knew it, everyone knew it and it wasn’t a secret. I was never one to hide my feelings or beat around the bush and I think Niall liked that about me. And I liked how sweet he was trying to be about everything. Of course I rolled my eyes at his pathetic reasoning and he was quick to change his mind after I had reached over and unzipped his pants, my eyes fixated on his as I pulled him straight out of his boxers. I gave him the “best fuckin' blowjob…” he had ever had that night, his words exactly.

And after that it was a regular thing, we were a regular thing. Hence the name.

I was always the first girl he called, almost every time before he even touched back down in London. He wanted me at his house, ready and waiting. He didn’t really sleep around much on the road anymore, maybe once every so often if they were on an extra long trip and he just couldn’t possibly hold out any longer. Normally, he would wait it out until he got back home but sometimes he would call me or Skype me at odd hours of the night while lounging in the various hotel rooms, so I could “help him with his problem”. It was a win-win for both of us.

We worked well together; knew each other’s bodies and likes, had our kinks down pat. We knew how to please each other just the way we needed. It was simple and fun and with no real romantic feelings involved, we were still able to hang out as friends like we always had.

And this night was no different.

I was already out on a date, not out of the ordinary for me, when I got his text. I knew he was coming back into town soon, and as expected, he was getting ready to land from being away on tour in America for the last six weeks. I had skyped with him four days prior, both of us getting off as well as expected, but I knew he was itching to really get laid. To fuck and get fucked good. I could not say bye to my date fast enough. Grabbing my stuff, I waved him off and thanked him for the date before leaving him sitting at the table in the middle of the restaurant with a look of pure bewilderment on his face. Sorry dude, I thought, but I have more important things to do.

Using the key that he had so generously made a copy of for me, I let myself into his house and flipped on the lights before making my way straight back towards his bedroom. Intricately clean and practically unlived in the past almost two months, I scraped my teeth over my bottom lip as I peered around the overly tidied space.

This was not Niall. No, this was just not going to do.

I shuffled right over to the bed and yanked at the duvet, picking up the pillows and punching at them a little before throwing them haphazardly back down onto the bed. Quickly taking my clothes off, I chuckled the pieces in various places around the room; my shoe flying in the corner when I kicked my foot out and my bra getting stuck on one of his guitars that was standing by his dresser, the strap hanging off the tuning pegs. Oops.

Shrugging my shoulders, I climbed my naked body onto his bed, fumbling around as I tried to find a decent position. I laid there waiting patiently for what seemed like forever, spread out in my back, my one leg hooked over the other and swinging back and forth as I twirled my hair around my finger. Mindlessly shooting my stare across the bare walls of his room in boredom, I softly narrowed my eyes and lifted up on my elbows as I caught the glimpse of something in his closet. I swiftly bounced up off the end of the bed and sauntered over, carefully pushing at the cracked door to ease it open before switching on the light. My eyes scanned the decent sized space, going wide as I stared at all the perfectly lined up shoes, nicely hung clothes and various hats that were hooked up along the wall. It was beautiful and surprisingly typical. He took a lot of pride in his things.

I quietly padded along, letting my fingers graze across the toes of the dress shoes and brims of the paddy caps before I stopped at one of his old snapbacks. It was by far my favorite hat of his and I hadn’t seen him wear it in quite a long while. When I asked him about it once, he just kind of shrugged his shoulders at me and said ‘I got some new ones.’ Picking up the emerald green San Francisco Giants snapback, I flipped it over in my hand and brushed the pads of my fingers along the white monogrammed “NIALL” that was displayed on the side. I giggled as I lightly placed it on my head, turning my body to glance at myself in the floor length mirror that hung on the opposite end wall. Perching a hand on my naked hip, I tipped my head to the side and let a smile slip over my lips. He would totally freak over this, I thought as I bit at my lip.

Shuffling over to where all his jerseys hung in their own special part of the closet, I looked over them before choosing very carefully and pulled a green derby jersey off the hanger. I held it up by the shoulders, studying the printed “HORAN” that was displayed on the back in big white block letters. Pressing it to my chest, the fabric was slick and cold on my skin and I squealed under my breath before slinging it on over my bare body, the bottom hem just barely falling at the top of my thighs.

Flipping off the light, I ran back to the bed and slumped down onto it, falling on my back with my legs and arms spread wide. I hadn’t even had time to catch my breath before I heard the sound of his front door opening and his suitcases being hastily dropped to the tiled floor. I desperately tried to scramble my body up from my laying position, raising up to my knees and throwing my hands up to my head to fix his hat right as he barreled through the bedroom door.

He stopped dead in his tracks, his big hand gripping tight to the door handle as his eyes grew wide and trailed down the length of my body. “Holy shit,” he mumbled, the first words I had heard from him in person in weeks. He licked across his lips, pink and overly puffy from the long flight as he brought a hand to his crotch, fingers roughly adjusting his growing bulge.

I coyishly grinned at him, my eyes shooting up to his from the distracting movements of his hand and rested my hands at my hips. “Heya Niall. Did’ya miss me?”

He let out a shallow snort at my silly question. “More than ya fuckin’ know.”

Slowly easing the door shut, his eyes never left mine as he began ripping off his clothes (so very eager this one) and tossing them across the room just as I had done earlier. I know him too well, I thought with a giggle as I watched him hop around on one leg, trying with all his might to tug off his jeans, his lean body bent over and all contorted. He was so silly sometimes.

Finally dragging his boxers down his legs, he stood in front of me, completely naked with his big hand crossed over his toned body to stroke sloppily at his now fully hardened cock. This boy didn’t waste any time. I looked down at myself, brushing my fingertips across the skin of my thigh that laid right under the hem of his jersey. Pinching at the material, I flicked my eyes up to his to meet his gaze. He couldn’t take his stare off of me and I fucking lived for moments like this with him. That intoxicatingly raw and completely uninhibited look in his eyes. Pupils blown wide, the hungry darkness readily filling the normally calming blue. This was the look I craved, the moment right before he insatiably devoured me.

Tipping my head a little, I smirked at him as I slowly raised up the bottom hem of his jersey, showing him a teasing little peek of what I knew he most desperately wanted. I watched the fingers of his free hand curl into a fist at his side, knuckles slowly pressing white as his half lidded eyes focused heavily to my lower half, his tongue shakily darting out to lick at his lips. “Christ woman,” he blurted out, his deep voice flowing over his stammering words.

Giving him a breathy laugh, I quickly flipped myself around and dropped my hands to the bed. “Look, Niall!” I ordered, peering back at him over my shoulder with a playful grin and tossing my hair out of the way so he could see his name clearly displayed across my shoulder blades. I arched my back as his stare flowed over me, pushing my ass high in the air and wiggling it back at forth, the jersey having slipped up and not really covering much of anything at that point.

He sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, faintly shaking his head as his big hand came up to run over his face. “Mmm," he quietly hummed out, his teeth sinking deep into his bottom lip as he shook his head , "yeah, love, look...at...you...”

Stepping towards me, he reached out his hand and pushed the jersey the rest of the way up past my bum before placing his large palm on the full of my ass. He smirked down at me as he rubbed a circle in the hot flesh before slapping across my backside with a loud stinging smack. My body jolted from the intense action and I lightly hissed in a breath. “Love this fuckin' ass,” he mumbled, his rough fingers now gripping a handful, greedily pulling at the tender skin.

Pushing my bum towards his lingering touch, I glanced back at him with a hint of a smirk before lifting my body back up and turning around on my knees to face him. He stood at the edge of the bed and I lazily slung my arms up around his shoulders, my fingernails scratching at the little dark hairs and slipping across the warm skin at the back of his neck. He rolled his head back a bit, letting his eyes fall shut at the feeling.

“You think I look good?” I softly asked him, glancing down at his jersey before meeting his gaze once more. “I like wearing your things.”

He rumbled out a laugh as his stare dragged up to the green snapback that laid upon my head. Reaching up, he grabbed at the rim and wiggled it back and forth a bit. “Like this one on ya. Looks good.”

I flicked my eyes up as he lifted the hat from my head and turned it backwards, gently placing it back down in place. Sliding my hands over the sides of his neck to cup around his stubbled jaw, I leaned in and finally placed a kiss to his mouth, so warm and needy. He threw a hand to my lower back, pulling my body into his as he sucked at my tongue, leaning me back a bit the more intense he became with the kiss. My shoulders raised high and I whimpered breathlessly into his mouth, the taste of mint flowing from his tongue to mine.

God, that mouth was lethal.

His fingers twisted tight into the material of the jersey, yanking at it as his fist grew bigger. “Sexy as fuck in this,” he muttered against my lips as he brought his other hand up to cradle around the side of my face.

I hummed into his mouth as I pulled away, watching as my hands slid down his neck and through the dark hair that covered his expanding chest. Trailing my curious fingers over his warm skin, they danced along his torso before I stopped to twirl the tips of them in the small patch of hair below his bellybutton, my eyes flicking up to his. A half smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth as I lowered my touch a bit more, the pads of my fingers dragging lightly down his swollen shaft before I fully wrapped my hand around his length. His lips parted in a hushed gasp, my grip squeezing him lightly as I felt the growing pulse of him throb against my warmed palm.

I pressed my tongue to the tip of my teeth, easing my grasp on him and bringing my hand back up to my mouth to spit onto my skin before I slowly began to rub across the tip of his waiting cock, spreading the slickness down the length of his shaft. A loud groan gurgled from his straining throat, his large hands gripping at me and pulling at the material of the jersey as he eagerly bucked his hips towards my teasing touch. He was ravenous, overly desperate for me and I liked having that control. But of course, it never lasted long.

I chuckled to myself as I dropped my hand from him and grabbed at the bottom hem of the jersey and began to pull it over my head. Quickly reaching for my wrists, he gently brought them back down to my sides. “Leave it on,” he demanded, his intensely dark eyes locking heavily with mine. I let go of the slinky fabric and he swiftly grabbed me right under my ribcage with both hands, easily lifting me up. I playfully screeched out a giggle as I wrapped my legs around his slim waist and held tight to him.

He pushed a rough kiss to my lips before dropping me down on the bed, the hat being knocked off my head as my body bounced on my back to the mattress. His brows raised in pleased amusement and he began crawling up onto the bed on one knee to hover his soft body between my spread legs. My mouth hung open, watching as Niall ran his tongue over his lips and immediately dipped his head down to suck harshly at my neck. My eyes fluttered in a held breath, my fingers coming up to brush through his dark hair, gripping and yanking, my own head pushing back into the mattress to allow him every part of me that he wanted. Sloppily kissing down the curve of my neck, his tongue swam over the hollow of my throat as he used a single finger hooked into the collar of the jersey to tug it down as far as he could, exposing the swell of my breasts. He flicked his eyes to mine as I faintly gasped, Niall smirking against my risen chest as his tongue darted out to recklessly lap at my clammy skin.

My chest expanded under him in heavy uneven breaths, pressing into the beckoning heat of his mouth before I felt a gentle pinch of pain as he sunk his teeth down into the peak of one of my ample breasts. A whine slipped past my parted lips and he lifted his face from my tingling skin, dragging his splayed hands down to the bottom hem of the shirt and pushing it up, the material bunching right above my breasts. His hot mouth was instantly back on me, clamping down one of my pert nipples and I instinctively tugged hard at his hair in reaction, causing a loud hiss to flow past his clenched teeth. His eyes squeezed shut as he lightly pulled back on my nipple and gently let go before sliding his mouth to my other breast in an eager bid for equal attention. Pushing my teeth into my bottom lip to supress my cries, my back arched high as my hips bared down into the cushy bed. He twirled his tongue and sucked hard, my lips trembling as they fell slack and he glanced up at me, sliding his big hand up the front of my body and over my raised chin, sticking two of his thick fingers into my mouth and straight down my throat. My eyes pinched shut, my throat constricting in a harsh gag as the roughness of his bitten fingertips hit the back of it. He smirked at his achievement and lifted his face from my chest, his skin all flushed pink and lips swollen with desire, and he began to scoot up the length of my smaller frame, his beautiful face now sitting mere inches from mine.

I eased my eyes opened and lazily caught his stare. “Such a pretty little mouth,” he breathed out, his nose brushing at mine as he spoke, "better open it up for me..."

Resting on his one elbow, he slowly started to pump his fingers in my open mouth and I tried to suck at them, my tongue rolling over the worn skin as he greedily pushed them down past my gag reflex. I locked my stare with him, that gleam of lust beating through his blown pupils and he gently bit at his bottom lip, his other hand curling into the side of my hair as he slipped his fingers even deeper down my throat, making me gag around them once more.

The tears fastly welled up in the corners of my eyes as I struggled to keep them fixated on him, my shaking thighs clamping tight around his hips as my used throat pulsed around his thick fingers. Hovering his slightly parted lips over mine,he slowly pulled his fingers out, strings of spit falling heavy between our mouths and I gasped for needed air as he stuck out his tongue to lap them up.

My breathing staggered as I watched him with a watery stare as he shoved his fingers into his own mouth, sucking hard before yanking them out and shoving his hand down between our pressed bodies, using the heel of his palm to spread my legs further apart for him. I choked back a breath as his roughened spit-coated fingers slipped down my wet folds, finding my opening and pushing deep into my center. His nose pushed to my cheek, his hot breath spilling out over my heated face. "God, missed this gorgeous little cunt of yours so fuckin' much..."

My eyes squeezed shut at his words, a whimper pulsing off my tongue as I felt his fingers curl up inside me before he eased them out. Drifting my jittery hands down to rest at his shoulders, I slowly peeled open my eyes just as he brought his slickened fingers back to my waiting lips. “It‘s sweet, love...wanna see ya taste it….”

Locking my stare with his, I watched him swallow hard as he hungrily licked at his lips and ran the pads of his slick fingers across my parted mouth. "C’mon, baby, taste your sweet cunt for me." His accent was rough in that gravelly voice of his, the deep sound swimming over my body and into my head and I slowly parted my lips in eager compliance, slipping my tongue out to lick the taste of myself off his fingers.

His brow raised at my unbounded submissiveness, a cocky smirk tugging at his lips. "Aye...that’s a good girl...."

My eyes fluttered briefly as he dug the pads of his fingers across the flat of my tongue before abruptly slipping them out of my mouth, shoving his hand back down between us to push his two fingers inside me once more. Scratching my fingernails along the damp skin of his shoulders, I cried out from the intense feeling, my thighs trembling as he buried his fingers deep and twisted his wrist, gathering up more of my leaking goodness.

"Again," he barked out at me, a devilish gleam in his eye as his fingers came back to my lips, dripping with my wetness. I breathed out a tiny giggle, a half smirk sliding over my lips as I felt his hips rock towards me, his achingly hard cock pressing right against my pulsing center. My eyes fluttered knowing that he was just as turned as I was at this, that he wanted me just as bad as I wanted him. His fingers lightly brushed at my hair as his others sunk into my hot mouth, my tongue curling around them just as he had asked.

Niall shifted his body slightly and with the tips of his fingers coming to a rest at the corner of my lips, he roughly pushed his mouth to mine, his tongue sweeping in to lick at the lingering taste of me. I whined into the frantic kiss, both his hands gripping around the sides of my face as he bore his hips down against mine, his swollen length rubbing against my heated center.

Panting hot into my open mouth, my fingers raked across his back and up his neck before gripping firmly into his dark hair. “So fuckin’ hot...” he muttered between heavy sucks on my puffy bottom lip, his sweaty forehead stuck to mine, “Christ, I missed ya.”

I hummed out in faint response, pulling his mouth back to mine with a solid tug of his hair. I felt his lips curl up in a smile and the roll of his soft slim hips roll as he pressed himself into me again. Gasping lightly at the feeling, my toes curled as I lifted my legs up around his lower body, my thighs clamping to around his bare hips. “Need this fuckin’ mouth,” he growled between clenched teeth, his hands sliding off my face to reach behind his head and grab at my wrists. Huffing out a breath, he pushed them up above my head, moving his body from the confines of my legs to straddle himself over my waist. I peered up at him in a held breath, wordless and caught in his gaze as I watched that familiar smug look start to pull across his face. My heart was pounding relentless in my chest, the sweat beading up along my exposed skin as his half lidded dark eyes glanced across my body, my fully aroused breasts on full display and my marked skin already showing signs of his unbridled pleasure.

Dragging his eyes from the peaks of my breasts back to my face, he slowly caught my stare. Our eyes gently floated over each others and without another moment's hesitation, he leaned forward and pressed his weight down. His big hands still encircled my small wrists and he began to slide his body up mine, my chest rising high under him in quick breaths as he straddled himself over the top of my chest. My stare was still locked with his, so dark and devilish and I obediently opened my mouth, one of his hands swiftly grabbing around the thick shaft of his cock and slapping the tip of it against the widespread of my flattened tongue. His eyes went big; pupils blown dark as they focused down at me, Niall rocking his hips towards my face to let the sticky cherry red tip of his cock slip right into my waiting mouth.

“Fuck.”

His voice was weaker, more subdued this time, both his hands placed back at my wrists and pinning them to the mattress as he slowly began to thrust his hips towards my face, letting his cock fill my mouth. I stared up at him, watching his eyes roll back as he shoved himself further into my throat, the glassy tears starting to fill my gaze as I fought back against my gag reflex. His pink lips slowly parted, that brow furrowing just slightly as he kept his head dropped down and his eyelids pressed closed as he fucked my face. Easing back some, he let me gasp for air before he popped his eyes open just to watch himself push down my throat once more, my nose burying into the coarse hair that sat around the base of his cock.

“Look at ya,” he mumbled under his staggered breaths, “look so fuckin’ pretty takin’ me cock like this.” He always said things like that to me, almost as if he was talking to himself, but the boy loved watching himself fuck me. Loved watching me take him in every way that I could and I really didn’t know what it was, but I honestly thought it was the hottest thing in the entire world.

Softly whining around him as the soreness began to take over, he gave me a small smirk and pulled himself all the way out of my mouth. I choked back a breath, my chest heaving as thick strings of spit fell from the head of his cock to my swollen used lips. Sliding a hand down my arm, his head tilted slightly as he reached over and used a thumb to wipe a fallen tear off the side of my face. “Such a good girl for me,” he gently whispered.

My eyes fluttered from his delicate touch, the contrast of how he was just literally fucking my throat not seconds before. “Niall...please...” I softly begged, my voice harsh from the roughness of him. I bucked my hips up off the bed slightly, his own hips swirling to let the slippery tip of his dick brush across my parted wet lips. “Please.”

He chuckled down at me and quirked a brow. “Missed me fuckin’ ya, eh?”

I nodded my head before jutting out my tongue to teasingly lick under the ridge of his swollen length, Niall’s eyes rolling back just a bit from the overwhelming sensation. “Want me to...f-fuck ya nice and good, yeah?” he asked me, his voice rattling in his chest.

“Please.”

Giving me a full smile, I saw the bright of his pretty teeth as he shifted himself off my chest and bent down to push a rough kiss to my lips before quickly kneeling back by my bum and ordering me to flip over. Scrambling my body over, I flipped onto my tummy with a heavy breath and felt the immediate pressure of his thick fingers digging into the front of my hipbones. He pulled my bottom up and using his knees to push at the inside of mine, he spread my legs out even further as he situated himself behind me. My fingers tangled into the duvet as I stretched my arms above my head, my hot breaths panting out against it as my face buried down into the heavy blanket. My eyes squeezed shut, my hips rocking a bit as I heard him spit down onto the head of his cock, a hand leaving my skin momentarily to swipe it down his shaft and line himself up.

Sucking in a breath, I held it deep as the jersey slipped down my chest to huddle up under my armpits. He slapped his cock against my slit, all pink and ready for him before lagging his tip right at my opening. Biting at my lip in anticipation, I arched my back and let out a high pitched whimper, pleading with him to just slip himself inside me as I was so fucking eager to feel him completely fill me up. I heard a shallow laugh echo through the room and felt a splayed hand run down my spine before his calloused fingers twisted into my hair and tugged, my neck straining back in reaction. Feeling him slowly start to push his fully hardened length inside me, my eyes shot open in a gasp as he buried deep, broken cries already leaving my parted mouth as he began to steadily thrust.

With his hand gripped tight into my hair, his hips slapped against my ass and my thighs started to tremble as I grasped to the blanket and let my mouth drop open in silence. His hand slid over from its place on my hip to grope at the round of my ass, his stare fixated on me as I bounced back against him and his roughened palm pulled at my hot skin. I sucked in a jumbled breath when I felt his fingers curiously trace down the middle of my ass, his touch spreading me apart slightly before I felt the blistering hot wet of his spit drip right onto my second hole and slide down my center. I tried to turn my head to peek back at him, but couldn’t manage with his tight grip to my hair and my brows knitted in frustration, my eyes fluttering as his skilled thrusts picked up speed.

Determined to see him, I struggled to catch the sight of him from the corners of my eyes, my breath catching thick in my throat as I felt him slowly run his fingertip down over my second hole. Burying himself all the way inside me, he let out a grunt as he leaned his body over my back, and without an inkling of a warning, brought his free hand up to my face and pushed two of his thick fingers right past my parted lips and straight down my throat.

I gagged around them, the rough bitten tips of them hitting the back of my throat as I squeezed my eyes closed in a broken whine before he quickly yanked them back out, a heaving gasp of my breath leaving my mouth as he brought his slickened fingers back to my ass. His hips stalled briefly as I felt him take his middle finger and swirl it at my second entrance before gently pushing it inside. I rolled my lips in my mouth to suppress my cries, my face scrunching up as he began thrusting his cock into me again, his wrist twisting slightly as he fingered my second hole. “Jesus, always so willin’ for me...takin’ whatever I give ya,” he mumbled, his breaths short as he continued to thrust into me, “Like me fuckin’ ya, don’t ya?”

I couldn’t even answer, the air choking from my lungs as the warmth tingled up from my center, my body already beginning to give way to him. I let out a desperate whimper, stumbling broken from my sore throat as my stomach tensed and my heart pounded out of my chest. My mouth dropped as he pushed his finger knuckle deep inside me, his thick cock burying as far in as he could go. He didn’t retract, keeping his body flush to mine as he gingerly rocked his hips just a bit and the tip of his finger flicking gently.

“Fuck...Niall…” I finally cried out, my voice hoarse, "shit-...holy shit."

“Like me fuckin’ ya like this, huh?” he grumbled, accent rough, “Fuckin' your pretty little cunt, me finger in your ass. Say it.”

He pulled his hips back slightly to let me feel the slow drag of his cock against my swollen walls and my hands yanked wildly at the blanket, my body convulsing as the twinges of my orgasm fastly approached. “Say it.”

His hips smacked against my bum as he started to fully fuck into me again, his finger matching the rhythm and dipping in and out as I struggled to control the vibrations that were exploding over my body. Clenching down around him, I gulped back a sharp breath as I felt the sudden loss of his finger from my ass and his other hand untangling from my hair before he messily slid it down to wrap around the front of my sticky neck.

My mouth hung open, not even a breath being forced past my lips as he roughly grabbed around my waist and tipped his hips, pushing his cock as deep into me as he could and leaned his front down flush against my back. His elbow sunk into the mattress to steady himself as his hot mouth pressed right up against the side of my face. I felt his fingers knead into my throat and his wet panting breaths blow across my dampened skin. “Wanna hear ya say it...” he whispered, bringing his hand up from my waist to trace his used middle finger across my bottom lip before sliding it along the flat of my tongue. “Say ya love it when I fuck ya...”

He lifted my chin up slightly, his tongue jutting out to lick across my jaw before his teeth nipped hard at my tender flesh. I cried out, my eyes squeezing shut. “Not gonna let ya come til I hear ya say it," he warned, his hand moving down the side of my body to grip back at my waist and hold me still, his hips rolling against me as I tried to push my ass back into him. "Be me good little girl, yeah?”

I could feel the sweat pouring down our bodies, our flesh stuck together where they met, and he rocked himself harder, the thick head of his cock pressing right against my g-spot. My mind went into a tizzy; my body shaking relentlessly, the room sweltering and swallowing me whole as I began to suffocate from my impending release.

I needed to fucking come.

“Love...love when you fuck me-...Niall,” I barely choked out, “so fucking good...oh-...oh God...”

The words stammered quiet out of my mouth and I felt a smirk spread across his lips against my neck. “Good girl.”

With a heavy sloppy thrust, I felt his big hand slide from the dip of my waist down to the front of my lower tummy, his rough fingers flitting between my legs to find my clit. His mouth sucked harsh at my neck, his hand pulling my head to the side by his grip on my throat as he thrust into me, desperate now to get me off. His fingers rolled across my sensitive clit, intense pleasure shooting through my body as I finally began to feel my orgasm take over. I cried out his name, broken on my tongue as he fucked me through, holding my body tight to his and feeling me as I trembled against him.

"Louder," he growled out against the shell of my ear. I screamed out his name again, choking out a gasping cry as my thighs shook and begged to clamp together. My back arched as I came, his hand squeezing down gently around my throat as the red hot ecstasy rushed to my flushing face.

He breathed out heavy against my dank skin, his eyes glued to my face as he let me come down and the prickles of his stubble rubbed my neck raw as he sucked deep purple marks into my skin. His thrusts didn’t let up, getting more fervid, more sloppy as I could feel him begin to grow rigid inside me. His slim hips dipped down, rolling up as let my head fall forward, his grip on my throat loosening as I struggled to catch my breath. Nipping at the dip below my jaw, he pushed himself back up to his knees, his fingers gliding down my sweaty arched back as he grabbed firmly at both my hip bones.

I let my head hang low as he fucked into me, working to bring himself to his own much needed release. I heard the sound of his panting breaths catch in his throat and I slowly lifted my head to glance back at him. Drenched in sweat, drops of it slid down his mottled chest, soaking his dark chest hair as the glistening skin of his thick neck broke out in slight goosebumps. His bottom lip was tucked in between his gritted teeth, his cheeks flushed and pretty blue eyes squeezed shut so tight I could see the wrinkles of his brow. His hair was a damp wild mess, sweat lining the sides of his face as strands stuck to his forehead. I tried to catch my breath, tried to understand how he could look so beautiful in a moment like that and I reached back with my hand as I kept my stare on him and grabbed at his fingers that were gripped around my hip.

His eyes shot open from my touch, his pupils blown so wide, that none of the familiar light blue could be seen. Softly smirking at me, his half lidded eyes creased at the corners as he thrust a little harder, really fucking into me. I let out a small cry before pulling at his hand. Niall dropped his grip on me, his hips came to a standstill as I carefully began to move my body away from his. His throbbing cock slipped from my swollen center and he let out a displeased hiss as I turned my body around on my hands and knees. The jersey fell down to cover my torso and I peered up at him, my chest rising high as I wrapped my hand around his thick coated cock and quickly brought him to my lips.

His eyes rolled back slightly in a loud moan, the corner of his mouth tugging up as I began to suck on him, the wet of my orgasm dripping down his veiny shaft. I traced my tongue along the taut skin to lap it up and pushed him down my throat, my nose burying deep into the dark matted hair at his base as he stared down and watched me take him. He hissed in a breath as he hit the back of my throat, my hand jerking his shaft as I pulled back and sucked hard at his head.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he murmured under his straining breaths. He reached up and gently carded a hand through my hair, my eyes flicking up to his face and watching as his pink lips slowly hung open, his eyes squeezing shut. I felt the jerk of his body as his stomach tensed and his cock twitched against my tongue, his fingers curling tight into my hair. “Fuck…holy fuckin’-....shit...”

The words barely made it past his lips before his eyes shot open to peer down at me right as he started to come. My small hand stroked his length, feeling it pulse out his orgasm as I laid my tongue out right at the bright pink head, wanting to catch every single spurt of his hot white load. Small grunts pushed from his throat, his wasted body shaking with each pass of my fingers over his sensitive tip and I smiled around the head of his cock, still continuing to slowly stroking him to milk out every last drop out of him that I could.

Letting go of my hair to run his hand up through his, he let out a pleased little chuckle and shook his head, his darkened eyes floating across the well used sight of me. I gave him a giggle as I started to pull away and he quickly stopped me as I closed my mouth around his load. “Don’t swallow,” he said. I gently knitted my brows as I sat back on my heels, my eyes narrowing a bit as I looked up at him. “Let me see it.”

My eyes fluttered at his request, the strong bitterness of his cum seeping into my tastebuds as I carefully parted my mouth and pressed my tongue out, curling up the tip as to not let any drip. It was stringy and warm, his eyes going wide as I watched his tongue jut out to run across his lips. He swallowed hard before I felt the brush of his knuckles against my chin. Sticking a finger into my mouth, Niall swiped it across the flat of my tongue, his chest heaving from curiosity as he gathered some of the white load on the tip of his finger. I kept my eyes fixated on him, the warmth growing wet between my legs as I watched him bring his finger up to his mouth, study it for a second before slipping it between his pink rounded lips.

My eyes darted wild with his as he pulled his finger from his mouth and quickly reached down to grip around my chin. I choked back a breath, his fingers pressing deep to the skin of my jaw to hold me still. My hands laid flat to the bed by my folded knees and Niall leaned over slightly, using the force of his hand to tip my head back. Hovering his mouth just a few inches from mine, I kept my tongue laid flat for him as best I could and I watched with wide eyes as he parted his lips slightly to let his warm cum-mixed spit slowly drip back into my mouth. Giving him a small whimper, he licked at his lips as he straightened back up, his stare dropping to my mouth as his thumb ran across the corner of my lips, a bit of the hot mixture running down.  

With my heart racing out of my chest, I quickly rose to my knees and cupped my hands around his rosy flushed face as I pushed my needy filled mouth to his. His big hands flew to wrap around my waist, his mouth eager to taste me, to share in his warm release as it slid between our tongues. My fingers curled into the hair behind his ears, his slipping up under the back of the shirt and digging into the clammy skin of my lower back

My nose brushed faintly against his as we kissed, both of us desperate for the taste as we panted wild into open mouths, my hands slowly slipping down to rest at his neck as we reluctantly pulled away. “Holy fuck, Niall,” I whispered against his parted lips, my forehead pressed to his.

He let out a huff in agreement, his chin tilting slightly to press a tiny kiss my lips. “Not done yet,” he said, my eyes going wide as he bit at his lip and gripped around my waist, lifting me slightly to toss me back down on the bed. My hair fanned out around me as watched a cocky smirk pull on his lips, his hands fumbling to push the fallen jersey up my torso before resting his palms at my knees. Bending my legs back, he spread them wide, his brows raising up at me as he bent over and ducked his head down between my legs.

Pulling in a held breath, my eyes pinched closed and my head tipped all the way back into the mattress, my hips baring down as his warm mouth pressed right to my clit. No holds bar with this boy, he sucked hard at me, flicking his tongue over my most sensitive part and my body immediately began to shake and pulse in reaction. Pushing my thighs up towards my chest, his mouth slid down my slit, tongue dipping in and sucking at my opening before licking down further to my ass. My eyes rolled back as I tipped my chin up, hushed moans escaping my slackened mouth as he pushed the tip of his tongue past my second hole, lightly twirling it before licking his way back up to my clit.

My hand flew down between my spread legs, grabbing frantic at his hair as his head lightly moved back and forth, his tongue wagging against me as he sucked even harder. “Oh my God!” I cried out, the air being forced straight from my cinched lungs as I my overly heated body began to curl up into itself.

With a chuckle bursting from his mouth onto my blistering hot skin, he popped his lips off of me and my head shot up at the sudden loss of that perfect fucking mouth, a slight look of shock on my face as I locked eyes with him. He just smiled at me, his pretty face glistening with my slippery mess as he quirked his brows and cocked his head to the side. My chest was rising high in gasping breaths as I felt two of his fingers slide across my damp skin. Dragging those rough calloused fingertips right down my achingly sore heat, my body jerked with every tiny movement of his touch on my skin.

His dark eyes were focused heavy on mine and I gasped as he twisted his wrist and slipped his two middle fingers inside me, the tips hooking up and rocking right up against my g-spot. My whole body convulsed to his touch, my toes curling as I fought to bring my legs down, but his grip on my one thigh to solid for me to move. I just stared at him, small curdled whines leaving my mouth as he worked me hard, thick fingers filling my swollen used center. My body trembled around him, my heat tingling as the warmth of another release fastly began to creep up from my overworked core.  

Watching another amused smirk fall over his smug face, he pulled his fingers from me and I cried out in displeasure as he popped them into his mouth to clean them off before hastily pushing my legs apart and slide himself between them again.

My chest rose rapidly in frustration as he hovered above me, my head shaking and my lips pursed as I peered up at him. “You're so fucked up,” I mumbled, my body inadvertently rolling my hips up against him as the throb of my very close second orgasm just teetered on the edge. He locked his eyes with mine, his perfect little mouth turned down as he gave me a small shrug, bringing his fingertips to my face to sweep some hair off my forehead.

“Ah, you like it,” he quipped back, that tiny dimple showing as he shot me a small grin. “Besides, gotta save some for later…”

I rolled my eyes at his comment. "Freak," I snipped as my hands dragged up the sides of his body and over the ripples of his ribs.

Snorting out a laugh, he cupped my face in his massive palms and pressed a small kiss to my mouth before rolling over and plopping down on the bed next to me. He pushed out a loud huff and I groaned under my breath as I flipped my body over to my stomach. Perched up on my elbows, I turned my face to peek over at him, his bright eyes flicking across his ceiling as he mussed with his hair before he slid his hand down over his sweaty face.

He was seriously going to kill me one day.

I gently smiled to myself as I reached across the bed to grab the green cap that had fallen off my head. Holding it by the brim, I looked over at him and crookedly plopped it down on his head, his eyes glancing over at me from the corners. “Welcome home, Niall,” I whispered, giving him a coy little smile. He rolled his tongue in his mouth, the edges of his lips tugging up as he glanced back up at the ceiling and pulled in a jumbled breath.

Lifting his head off the bed slightly, he used a hand to wiggle the hat down over his fluff of hair for a better fit. “Glad to be back.”

“So,” I said, changing the subject as I tugged down at the sides of the jersey that half covered my body, “what do you wanna do now? Order some takeaway? Maybe watch a film? Go for a pint?” Raising my brows in question, I kicked my feet up behind me and smiled at him before reaching over to playfully flick at the brim of the hat.

Slowly turning his face to the side to catch my stare again, he blew a heavy breath past his lips and shook his head as he dragged his half lidded eyes across my face. “How the fuck did I get so lucky with you?” he mumbled, half under his breath, “Jesus…”

I shrugged out a tiny giggle. “I don’t know,” I retorted, biting at my lip, “but I guess that’s why I’m your number one girl.”

He let out a snort, his eyes squeezing shut as his hand slapped down to rest at the full of my bum, his fingers kneading lightly into the bare skin. “Yup, that ya are, love. That ya are.”

[noodleswithsoba-blog]

A Silver Whirlwind Chapter 5: Roulette.

Yoshiro Yoshitake was just enjoying himself, he had a great competitor and was riding high. Soon he'd be able to expand to new heights on the shoulders of that young idiot! He knew that the kid had potential but… he didn't know that he'd gotten in with the one organization that many Kengan employees and managers saw only once… The Kure Family. Or rather… their messenger, the Black Sheep of the Taboo Descendants. Raian hated busywork but still, he was sent in to intimidate if Hollis didn't work. Tracking down that idiot Yoshitake was easy, all he needed to do was tell him what he needed to do.

Yoshitake looked like death had come for him as Raian loomed over him, "So…" Raian began, seeing the fool's eyes dart to the side.

"Ah, ah, ah! No running, you bastard! Otherwise, you might wanna make peace with whatever trashy god you believe in," he snarled. Yoshitake sighed.

"What do you want?" he asked.

"This roulette number rrriiiiggghhhhtt here! The old man wants you to get this number when you pick the brackets with the other suits, doesn't matter which block you put him in, he's gonna learn the hard way," Raian exclaimed, "Also… you might wanna get a body-bag for the poor bastard,"

Yoshitake sighed and looked down at the number. Thinking about his competitor. He was young, inexperienced. Why was he being thrown to the wolves already? Then it hit him. That girl that hung out with his competitor was part of the Kure! It was obvious, but was she the main branch or an offshoot?

Well, judging by the man standing before him with that plastered on slasher smile and eagerly shining dark eyes… that girl must've been important. He nodded slightly.

"I'll get the number," he said.

"Good, glad to see that somebody's got the balls to play along," Raian said. He strode away and his grin widened. He couldn't wait to see who that little shit would fight.

Ganryu Island was the chosen battleground for the Kengan Annihilation Tournament since it's purchase by Katahara Metsudou, the Kengan Association's president. It used to be lodgings for the Association members before the dome was constructed. Yet…

Karla never liked going here. Not because this was Raian's first time ever fighting in this thing for Under Mount Incorporated, but because Ichiban was fighting in this thing and chances are good that Raian would get to play with him.

She sighed, knowing that Ichiban was probably being the helpful guy he was. Her father nudged her.

"Sooooo… thinking about that boy of yours?" he teased, ribbing his daughter gently. She glared at him but still thought about Ichiban's smile and how comfy his lap was. Karla was openly blushing and her mother smiled.

"Oh how lovely, Karla!" she exclaimed, "I never got to meet him, but I'm sure he's perfectly lovely," Karla couldn't hide her blush because it was so hot on the island. Too hot for her jacket, but something told her that she'd run right into him.

"Hey… Karla? That silver-haired kid's been staring at you for a good solid minute… wait he's looking around…" her brother Sarla mumbled. The whole Kure Clan came out to watch the tournament. Well, the members of the main branch anyway.

"He's looking for Grandfather, he doesn't wanna be seen," Karla sighed, seeing Ichiban have a determined smile on his face. Karla was mentally pleading with her parents not to make a scene. She saw him get closer, backpack on his back and a smile on his face, making her nervousness worse because he actually looked kind of cute. Almost like he wasn't going to get brutally beaten to a pulp.

"THAT'S your boyfriend?! Wow, he's… hoo boy, I can see why Grandfather doesn't like him…" Sarla muttered, seeing Ichiban simply wave and be tugged along by Chiba. He was being dragged along and he wasn't exactly fighting it.

"Karla! I'll talk to ya later, okay?!" Ichiban called, "Sorry for yelling but I kinda have to!" Karla hid her face behind her hands and sighed, 'Ichi's too pure for this…' she thought. Her parents waved after him.

"Aw, what a nice young man…" her mother sighed.

"Kinda feel bad for him though… yet another Married-In…" her father sighed, "Make sure you keep that kid close, Karla… he seems pretty into you,"

Karla sighed and nodded, "Yeah…"

"Oop! I already hear wedding bells!" her mother exclaimed.

"Mom!" Karla exclaimed, "N-not yet!" Her mother grinned and wrapped her arm around her shoulders.

"Don't worry, honey… as long as you love him, I'm okay with him, just like how your father and I beat the odds, you two can as well!" she encouraged her oldest child warmly, she knew her grandfather loved Karla to death but knew how much of a free spirit she was.

If Karla liked that boy, that meant he was strong enough to take care of her little girl, so she already trusted him. The gaggle of Kure all moved into their lodgings, the air was electric with excitement as so many people from the upper echelons came to see the world's finest fighters. Yet Karla felt nervous, even worried for her friend.

She knew that there was no way this'd be a clean victory for him.

Chiba stood in front of his student, "This is it, Ichiban. Your proving ground. I know you had fun on the boat, but now it's the time to show what you've learned under my tutelage and your old master's teachings," he stated.

"Master Chiba, I'll do you proud!" Ichiban exclaimed, bowing. Oddly, his thoughts were on something else. Or someone else. Chiba could tell. He noted that Ichiban would vanish from time to time on the ship.

"You're distracted, Ichiban," Chiba observed. Ichiban blushed and sputtered.

"What?! Noooo… I'm focused! Totally focused!" his student spat, Chiba chuckled a little bit and patted him on the shoulder.

"It's that Kure girl that you were yelling to at the port, right?" he asked.

Ichiban nodded, looking down at his feet in shame. He tried to not think of her, but he did a lot. On top of wanting to go to school and be a normal young man. He'd even read aloud to himself, very slowly but he could read.

"I'm sorry, Master Chiba, I can't stop thinking about her… or some dumb future…" he mumbled.

"Ichiban, it's not a problem. Thinking of the future is normal, it's nothing to be worried about or scared of," Chiba assured him, "Even if you're scared, hope is one thing you can count on to be there,"

"Still… where'd Mr. Yoshitake gone? He was with us when we got off…" Ichiban mumbled Chiba smirked.

"Deciding your fate as we speak, my student," Chiba stated, "Go train on the beach, I'll see if I can meet up with him,"

Ichiban nodded and changed into his training gear, his same outfit for the tournament. He went through some practice katas and stances, kicking, punching, slashing and blocking, dodging an imaginary opponent. Still going through the motions of fighting Chiba and Ohma, even Karla (Even though she didn't take it seriously.) helped him flow into a certain rhythm that could be adjusted into other opponents. He felt something hit him in the back of his head and he turned to see a small beach ball bouncing away across the sand.

He saw a tall blond man striding up to him, "Can you toss that back to me?" he asked, his eyes settled on Ichiban. Ichiban nodded, tossing the ball back to him and he smiled.

"It's nice to see that a competitor isn't slacking on their training," the man stated, "My name is Mokichi Robinson, and I see you're competing for Yoshitake?" he asked. Mokichi was wearing a priest's garb and wide-brimmed hat, smiling serenely.

"Yeah," Ichiban said, "I am," he had learned English from his master's lessons. Mokichi smiled and sized him up.

"Mm… seems like you're a little young," he stated, his smile never leaving his face, "Still, I wonder what drew you into this tournament?" he asked.

"I had nothing better to do, sir," Ichiban stated, "The only way to get stronger is through experience and pain,"

"Ah, I see, but that's not all," Mokichi said, eyes opening, "You're fighting for something else,"

Ichiban flinched, growling a little, "How do you know that?" he snarled.

"I was watching you from time to time while you were training, you looked like you were fighting for something. Many say that the eyes are the windows to the soul," Mokichi stated, "I am a man of God, yet still I fight… so, what do you fight for, young man?"

Ichiban thought for a moment, "I… I wanna… go to school. Get smarter and stronger. If I prove to them that I'm strong enough… maybe I'll… get to marry the girl I love," he sighed, thinking of Karla and thinking of their whirlwind romance on the boat.

"Who's they?" Mokichi asked.

"Her family, they're assassins. All I need to do is win this and… maybe her great grandfather will stop being so angry at me," Ichiban reasoned. Mokichi nodded, smiling.

"Well, good luck to you, young man. May God bless you," he said, walking across the sand. Ichiban continued to train.

'Yeah, somethin' tells me I'll need it.' he thought to himself. He stopped training and sat down on the sand, looking out at the waves, 'Still… I'm here. I made it to the world's stage… anything goes…'

He heard heavy footsteps on the sand, seeing Lihito coming at him, "Little Tokita!" he called, skidding to a stop and panting, hands on his knees.

"Hah… hahhh… Ichiban… bad news…" he panted. Ichiban rose and stood over him, putting a hand on the bigger man's shoulder.

"Easy, Lihito… what's up?" Ichiban asked.

"I gotta… hooo… hah… man, I ran all the way here to tell ya…" Lihito sighed.

"There's no way you'll win," he said.

During Ichiban's training. The president gathered all the CEOs of the various companies together to decide the brackets. Katahara Metsudo chuckled to himself, stroking his beard and looking at the other presidents, seeing so many familiar faces alongside a couple of new ones like Kazuo Yamashita and Lihito.

"Now then, everyone… How about a little game?" he asked, his aides rolled out a roulette game and he scanned the room, looking for the first person to try it out. He grinned, eyes settling on Kazuo Yamashita.

"Yamashita! Come on up!" he declared.

"WHAT?! M-me?! W-why me?" He squawked. The salaryman turned manager/CEO inched forward reluctantly, brown eyes darting around the room and scuttling forward.

"Well, for having such a penchant for finding such strong fighters, of course! That Ohma Tokita fellow and that Ichiban Tokita boy… will that luck help you place your piece on the board right where you want it?" the president asked with a bright smile, making a 'go on' motion with his hand.

Yamashita gulped and steadily watched the rolling numbers, 'They slow down! So… here we go!' he thought, pressing the button. He got a high number: 989,086,296. President Katahara laughed.

"There's that famous Yamashita luck!" he chuckled, "Go ahead and pick!"

Yamashita gulped and pointed at bracket number eight. His company name showed up and Ohma's name was proudly emblazoned there. He smiled shakily, feeling Lihito muscle past him. He pressed the buttons with a boyish giggle, getting… 256.

Lihito sighed and shuffled back, watching Ichiban's manager Yoshitake go up and press the button, getting the number he needed if he wanted to keep his life, and chose the bracket spot up against Mokichi Robinson, which wasn't too bad. Then he realized that… someone was potentially going to fight Ichiban that was known to never exactly be the cleanest fighter...

Ichiban couldn't stop thinking about what Lihito said. About how he won't win. What did he know? Who was he going up against? He couldn't sleep at all. Ichiban stared at his ceiling, wondering why he couldn't.

He shut his eyes, "Come on… come on… sleep, Ichiban! You need it for tomorrow!" he groaned. He felt like he was missing something. He rolled over and covered his face with his pillow, moaning into it and trying to will himself to sleep. Something was missing.

Something important.

Something super important.

He sat up and sighed, "Dammit… I'm too used to Karla…"

Ichiban stretched and went outside to just think, almost bumping into the subject of his sleeplessness. Karla was out there, barely dodging him. She sighed and smiled.

"Hey," she said.

"Hi…" Ichiban sighed. Karla rubbed his arm.

"Can't sleep?" she asked.

"Yeah, I can't…" Ichiban sighed, "I'm nervous, Karla… Lithito told me I can't win and… I'm scared," Karla pulled him into a hug and squeezed tightly.

"Ichiban, you're strong, okay? All that matters is that you're here right now. Living in the moment, who cares if my grandfather hates your guts? I don't hate your guts, my parents don't, your master and former master and your friends don't…" she sighed, feeling him gently pick her up and carry her back into his room, laying her down and getting in bed beside her.

"Uhm… Ichiban?" she asked.

"You're what I was missing…" Ichiban sighed with a dreamy smile, pulling her into his arms and closing his eyes. Karla blushed heavily, being so close to him and feeling his chest rising and falling underneath his shirt. Ignoring the heavy tang of his sweat and just settling down and closing her eyes.

"Ichiban…?" she mewed.

"Mm?" he grunted.

"Regardless of what happens tomorrow… just… just know that I love you, okay?" she admitted. Ichiban smiled and kissed her on the cheek.

"I love you too, Karla…" he muttered, finally falling asleep.