#i had to sit down and map out everyone's moles

[tosahobi-if]

legend say moles are where your lover had kissed you the most in your past life! how would the RO’s feel about an MC who says that softly and kisses them where their moles are? (eg: under their lip, on their hand) (i have a mole on my shoulder blade so i find that an adorable concept!!!)

oh my gosh that's sooo cute (♡˙︶˙♡)!

jinwol would be incredibly flustered. think cherry-red, spluttering, jolting, a mix between wanting the mc to stop and not ever wanting them to stop. he has some moles he's not even aware of himself (behind his ear, on his back, etc) so i think it'd also have an ~element of surprise~ for him!

yul has a single mole right on their left collarbone. i think they'd be slightly confused (it's just a mole) but i think they'd find the sentiment really cute. i also have this really strong image of them tilting their head to kiss your forehead if you kissed them there hehe

iseul has one right above her ankle and one under her left eyebrow so i think she'd just be concerned at first JSDFJS the mc would have to basically do a burpee or do some awkward crawling to kiss both so she'd be a little (・ ・)? but ultimately i think she'd find it romantic! in concept! (trying it once is probably enough.)

xst has a single mole under their eye but if you tried to softly kiss them there they're absolutely grabbing your head and pulling you down into an actual kiss.

[cynicalone94]

Outside Income Ch. 6

When Intelligence gets pulled in to solve a case that another unit can't seem to close, evidence quickly begins to suggest that the gang they're investigating has man on the inside. But what shouldn't be a big deal, Intelligence is known for rooting out corruption, quickly becomes a very big deal when something goes very, very wrong.

Read on AO3 here.

“Come on, Niko. You’re already in hot water with the gang. They’re getting ready to set you up and drop you like a bad habit.” Antonio says, fanning out a series of photos. 

“This new gig they’ve given you.” he says, pointing out the man standing on a corner, talking to a low level dealer. “They played it up as an important promotion, right?”

Niko scowls. 

Antonio adds some documents to the table. 

“The last four guys they handed that spot to ended up getting busted by CPD.” Antonio says. “That’s a hell of a coincidence, especially considering they’re basically the only arrests in the Riders that we’ve made in over two years.”

Niko clenches his jaw. 

“They’re going to sell you out.” Antonio presses. “It’s only a matter of time. If you don’t wanna go up the creek all by yourself, then you’re going to tell me something that can help me get the rest of the gang.”

“So then they can kill me in prison instead?” Niko scoffs. 

“Can’t do that if you don’t go to prison.” Antonio tells him. “Make it worth my while and I’ll make it happen.”

It isn’t often that he gets to make that offer but Voight has already cleared it with the DA so for once he’s fully in the clear to make specific promises. 

“I don’t know where your guy is.” Niko says. “Everyone’s talking about the cop that was kidnapped. I wasn’t involved in that. I don’t know who has him or where they’ve stashed him.”

“Then tell me what you do know. Everything you know. Names, locations, everything. We’ll figure out what’s what.” Antonio says. 

Voight growls where he’s sitting in observation. 

The worst part of all of this is that he actually believes the idiot. The gang is planning on cutting Niko loose. They wouldn’t have brought him in on something like this. 

“Adam, you and Kevin work on the information that Niko gives Antonio. Watch for connections that might lead us to Jay but map everything. If we can dismantle the entire operation while we’re at it, I’m not complaining.”

“Got it boss.”

He stalks out of observation and back into the bullpen. Hailey looks up as he comes in. 

“Did he tell you anything?” she asks. 

“Claims he doesn’t know anything about where Jay is. Antonio, Adam and Kevin are sorting through everything he can tell us about the gang looking for a lead.” Voight says. “In the meantime, we need to look for a different way in.”

“We’ve been looking over things, trying to figure out how the gang set up their trap.” Hailey says. “I was about to head down and talk to Marston, see where he got the lead on the stash house.”

“Bring him up here.” Voight orders. “Keeping him out hasn’t helped anything.”

Keeping the case Intelligence only, icing out not only Marston but the mole as well, is probably responsible, at least in part, for Jay being taken. 

She nods and jogs down the stairs.

Jason sits in the office across from the front desk.

Waiting. 

His head hurts and in a perfect world he would go home and go to bed. But Hank Voight wants to keep an eye on him until they’ve resolved everything and found Halstead so instead he’s stuck here. 

As a cop, he knows the man is just covering his bases. Possibly even trying to protect him. 

But he can’t help but feel like the man doesn’t trust him, like he’s waiting for him to do something that reveals his part in this. 

But maybe that’s just his guilty conscience talking. 

The female officer from Intelligence, Burgess he thinks, had jogged down a little while ago to talk to Sergeant Platt. 

She’d sounded worried, more than just the worry of a colleague being missing, and he can’t help but wonder how the proof of life had gone. 

Victor had promised that Halstead wouldn’t be hurt but surely they would have done something to make their point. He just hopes that Burgess’ concern doesn’t mean that things are a lot worse than he’d told himself he could be okay with. 

At least it was Halstead who’d ended up accompanying him to the stash house. He’d asked for Ruzek, figuring the younger officer wouldn’t put up much of a fight faced down with four guns in his face. 

He’d thought the kid’s relative inexperience would help prevent injuries. And he’d been frustrated when Halstead had been sent with him instead because the man’s military training would lead to a bigger fight at the stash house and increase the likelihood of injuries. 

But as it turns out, it’s probably a good thing that it had been Halstead. 

Because hopefully the detective’s military training will help him handle whatever it is that Victor and his friends are dishing out in spite of their promise that he wouldn’t be hurt. 

Hopefully that edge of cocky readiness that had set his nerves alight with irritation from the moment the man had commented that he must have a leak will help Jay Halstead survive the hell that Jason has gotten him into. 

A tap on the door frame alerts him to Detective Upton’s arrival. 

“Voight would like to talk to you.”

[sableseb]

request coming in bc i absolutely love all ur writing!! could you do a bucky x reader dancing together at a gala/party thrown by tony and everyone there is like 🥺 at the beautiful couple?

Thank you!! So happy you love my work!💞 Please enjoy, darling✨

word count: 1k

warnings: none, just a tiny mention of sexy activities

tags: @fuckandfluff @stucky-my-ship @greeneyedblondie44 @harrysthiccthighss @sparksforkoo @bemine-bucky @meetmeatyourworst @thewritingdoll

a/n: I haven’t wrote much fluff, so I hope I captured their emotions and atmosphere well! 

Bucky may have disliked a lot of things. Attention, small talk, crowds…but, Stark truly outdid himself this year, he had to give the ego trip that much.

The ballroom is flooded with expensive bodies. Delicate jewels hang from limp wrists and long necks, tailored suits made of the finest material cling to men sporting watches that he’s sure would pay at least a few months rent in New York.

He’s awe struck for the second time in his newly found life. A giant crystal chandelier hangs high above the golden dance floor. Marble pillars stretch into the air to meet intricate art spanning across the ceiling. It was like standing in the eye of an artist, everything is just utterly breathtaking.

The first time, though, he’s ever felt taken back by such magnificence was you. The moment he laid his eyes on you, he knew you would never leave his mind.

He saw you that cool summer evening, sitting on the lush grass in the park. You had the cutest sundress on, one that barely covered your thighs. You were just sitting there, enjoying the breeze that would blow by. It’s like the angels called him to you as the sun shone down, encasing you in a glow that made his heart stutter.

Ethereal. He always told you. And when he did, the prettiest grin would take over your face. You’d try to hide it, you’d try to convince him he was crazy. Maybe I am. I was brainwashed after all. He’d say. You’d lightly punch him in the arm and scoff at his words. But, I’ll never be blind to true beauty, doll.

He always means the words he says to you. Bucky genuinely believes your beauty is unmatched. He loves your body, the one he gets to explore each night, treading feather-like touches along the expanse of your skin, mapping you out. He loves each mole, each freckle, each stretch mark. He especially loves your eyes. They always hold such emotion. He knows what you feel without you having to say a single word. Your eyes tell all. He’d whisper. That would just earn him another punch to the arm and a scoff.

You’ll never truly fathom how much James Barnes loves you. And he’s okay with that. Because all that matters is that he knows it. He knows how far his love goes and he’ll never stop trying to convince you that you are nothing shy from perfect. Even if his attempts are futile.

The gala is a big hit. Smiles are shown, laughs are shared, champagne is flowing. Bucky hates to admit it, but he’s happy for Stark. He raises good money at these things for a new charity each year. At least he’s a humanitarian to some degree. He says to himself as he takes in more of the elegant designs the ballroom holds. 

Suddenly, his eyes land on your form walking down the winding staircase. Bucky’s eyes widen and his breath gets stuck in his throat. Your body is hugged in rhinestones. Each fraction of light that catches you bounces off the stones creating a glimmer. The dress is long, little straps rest upon your shoulders keeping everything in place. And boy, is everything in place.

Your curves draw him in, the low cut front showcases your breasts, the slit comes a little above mid thigh showing that supple flesh he could spend hours buried between. Damn those thin strap heels. They’re definitely staying on later.

“You look so handsome, Buck.” You tell him as you wrap your arms around him. 

He doesn’t think he does. He feels as if his all black suit was a little too tight. His hair is pinned back, showing every inch of his strong jaw and high cheekbones. He feels exposed without having his long hair fall over the sides of his face.

“Thank you, doll. You’re gorgeous, you know? Prettiest dame here.”

You don’t think you are. You feel like you’re a little too curvy for this dress that catches everyone’s attention. These heels make you feel as if you walk funny, almost like a newborn deer. 

Neither of you voice your doubts to the other because no matter how many insecurities flow through your minds, you both know that the other doesn’t see them. You’re both blinded by each other’s beauty. 

“Wanna dance?” You ask while looking up at him. 

Bucky really hated bringing unnecessary attention to himself. But, for you? He doesn’t hesitate to wrap a firm hand around your waist and guide you to the open floor.

The slow tempo the orchestra creates sends a calming feeling through your entire body. And being pressed up against Bucky’s firm frame only intensifies that feeling. It’s almost not real, he’s almost too beautiful. 

“What’s going on in that pretty little head?” He asks you, gently guiding you across the floor in time with the music.

“Nothing,” you say. “I’m just happy is all.”

Bucky says nothing further as you bury your head into the crook of his neck. He’s never felt more content than he does now. You’re both so lost in each other that you haven’t the slightest idea of all the eyes locked onto your swaying figures.

You’re both a complete contrast to each other. Inky black meets shimmering light. It has people hooked. They can practically see the adoration around your beings and they can’t tear their eyes away from the heart clenching site.

Off in a corner, Sam slaps twenty dollars in Steve’s hand, his eyes not once leaving the pair wrapped in each other.

“I can’t believe she got him to come. Cyborg never comes to anything.”

Bucky’s advanced hearing picks up on Sam’s disbelief and nickname. He lifts his chin from your head to pinpoint his rather annoying voice. The man doesn’t know how to be quiet, ever.

“What’s wrong?” You ask with worry, fearing he’s uncomfortable.

Bucky looks back down at you. “It’s just Sam,” he tells you. “His days are limited.”

You contain the laugh that threatens to spill from your lips. “Please don’t hurt your partner,” you grin.

Bucky will do anything for you, but it takes a special kind of restraint to not choke out his teammate. 

“I can’t promise anything, doll.” He says, placing a gentle kiss to the crown of your head. 

There’s no place he’d rather be than in your arms, even if all eyes are on him.

[erule]

The frat party | t.h.

Title: The frat party

Pairing: Frat boy!Tom Holland x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1823

Warnings: frat boy Tom, angst, nakedness (nothing sexual though, no smut in this chapter), mention of sex, implied smut, cliffhanger at the end, jealous Tom, language, OC Oliver, violence (one punch), blood, plot twists.

Summary: Tom and the reader met at a frat party, but a year later they broke up because of some reason. Now, rumor has it that the reader is dating one of Tom’s friends and he gets jealous.

A/N: Hello hello, I’m back! Have you seen Tom’s recent pics in Monaco?? He looked amazing! Anyway, I don’t know why, but I just had to write a fic with frat boy!Tom, so enjoy!

If you wanna be tagged in my Tom Holland fics, just let me know in my ask box! You can also find me on AO3 and Wattpad. Feedback is always appreciated by a writer!

Main Masterlist

Tom Holland Masterlist

Peter Parker Masterlist

Chapter 1

Break up with my ex girlfriend

Frat parties. Am I right? Worst part of college life. A lot of people drink to forget about their grades and how their lives went wrong, while someone’s just hoping to have some fun with them (if you know what I mean). For the first year, I hated them with passion, but it was before I met him. At a frat party. Oh, the irony! And then, frat parties were the only chance I had to actually talk to him. It didn’t take us long enough to start dating. I think that adults tell you fairy tales to make you grow up with a hope, the hope to find your real happy ending, your true love. Well, I wasn’t used to believe in them, but the year I spent with Tom… that was close to the definition of happy ending. The problem with happy endings? They don’t tell you what happens after them. And that’s because they’re a nightmare.

“Tell me that now or you’re not gonna find me in this bed tomorrow”, he says and there’s a part of me that wants to die right here and right now. I shake my head. I don’t want to do that. Not because I don’t feel anything for him, but I’m scared that this will complicate things between us and it’s the last thing I want. “Are you serious, Y/N? You really think that saying something like that during sex doesn’t count? Calling someone on the phone means something, even if you’re drunk as Hell. So tell me what you really feel about me right now or I swear, I’m out of this room. I’m out of this kind of weird relationship that’s going on between us for years,” Tom says and the veins on his arms draw a beautiful map on his body, in which the moles are cities and his eyes are volcanoes. They’re burning, unlike my skin, that is freezing because I’m not wearing anything at the moment. Except for my shame, perhaps. My insecurities, that never leave me. Even in front of Tom.

“You don’t mean that,” I try to say, my mouth dry. But he’s insanely angry. In another situation, it would be hot.

“I do, Y/N,” he replies. I swallow. His expression softens, like he’s in pain. He comes closer to me, brushing my cheeks with his hands. My eyes are full of tears. His words feel like a prayer on my skin. “Please, tell me”.

And even if I don’t wanna do that, my hands are tied. Even if that’s a lie. I remain in silence. One second after that, he’s gone. Tom always keeps his promises, after all.

2 months before

Harrison sat down with a strange look on his face. It only meant one thing for Tom: trouble. He sighed, throwing away the third cigarette of the day. Jacob raised an eyebrow, trying to get rid of the stench of smoke with one hand.

“I thought you wanted to quit smoking,” Jacob said.

“Relax, I only smoke before finals now,” Tom said. “What’s up, mate? Come on, talk”.

Harrison raised a corner of his lips in a smirk.

“Rumor has it, that Oliver’s got a girlfriend,” he said.

“No way!” Jacob exclaimed.

“Oh, fuck me,” Tom said, laying on the grass with his hands behind his neck, glancing at a couple of girls who were passing by.

“I haven’t said the best part yet, though,” Harrison continued. Jacob urged him to speak further. “He’s gonna throw a party for his birthday and he’ll introduce her to his friends. But since we’re his friends, I was wondering why I haven’t told us anything about this gal in weeks. So I played Sherlock Holmes for a couple of hours and I found out that… we actually know this girl,” he said.

“I bet she’s someone of the campus,” Tom joked, as if it was obvious.

“I bet she’s someone’s ex girlfriend,” Jacob replied.

Harrison remained quiet, but he was smiling.

“You gotta be kidding me,” Tom said, astonished, while sitting on the grass again.

“I won!” Jacob yelled.

“Who’s she? I hooked up with…”

“Ex girlfriend, Tom. It’s not some random girl you hooked up with. She’s someone you remember very well,” Harrison said.

“So we’re talking about me, uh? Well, let’s see… is it Janine? We lasted two weeks, I wouldn’t be mad about her,” he shrugged. Harrison swallowed.

“It’s someone you would be mad about,” Jacob guessed. “And there’s just one person that you would be mad about”.

Tom’s eyes widened at the realization.

“He’s fucking dead”.

Two days after that conversation, here they were: the three of them were laying with their backs on the wall like they were sustaining it from falling down. Tom had threatened Oliver with a Dare to explain, mate?, but his answer was just an I’m sorry Tom, but she’s just your ex. I don’t have to ask for your permission. Or does this mean that you’re still not over her? So, since Tom values too much his pride, he said that he was over her and that Oliver was right, he didn’t have to ask for his permission. Oliver apologized for not telling him that before and then walked away, leaving Tom to smoke the whole pack of cigarettes. Tom was watching Oliver talking with Elizabeth, one of your friends, when he saw you and Zendaya arrive at the party. In his opinion, you were stunning. You immediately caught his gaze. You just never failed to amaze him, even after a year. His heart ached at the view, but it ached even more when you greeted Oliver. You gave him a kiss on his cheek, clenching your hand in a fist. It seemed like you were uncomfortable. So, he came up with a plan to save you.

“Wait for me here,” he said to his friends, then he walked fast to reach you. “Hey mate, happy birthday!” Tom said to Oliver, who hugged him.

“Thanks, Tom. I think that you already know Y/N, Lizzie and Z,” he said and you smiled along with your friends, even if you looked more surprised than happy.

“Of course, I do,” Tom said, looking directly at you. You looked down. “Could I please talk to Y/N? We haven’t been in touch for quite some time and I’d like to catch up with her,” he asked.

“Sure!” Oliver said, while Zendaya seemed looking at you with a concerned expression. You winked at her.

Tom made you move away from Oliver by brushing your back, walking to the next exit. He lowered his voice in order to talk with you only, speaking to your hear: “You look ravishing, darling”.

He noticed that you closed your eyes for a very long second, but you didn’t say a word about that.

“Are you here to show that you still own me or something?”

“I don’t own you, darling. You’re absolutely free to do anything you like,” he said, lighting a cigarette outside the building.

“Z said you wanted to quit smoking,” you said, furrowing your eyebrows.

“I only smoke before finals”.

“Finals were yesterday,” you replied.

“Are we here to talk about me or you? I noticed that you were uncomfortable with Oliver, but I thought that you were his girlfriend. Wouldn’t it be weird?”

You smirked.

“Oh, now I get it. You’re jealous”.

“Nah, If I’d be jealous, you would know, trust me,” Tom said, with a playful tone.

“What would you do?” You asked, curiousity eating you alive. You wanted to know so bad if he still had feelings for you.

“Don’t play with fire, darling. You’re gonna burn your pretty hands, otherwise,” he replied, running a finger over his lip. Shivers ran through your spine, but you hoped that Tom didn’t notice it.

“Don’t try to seduce me, Holland. You’re not gonna win this time,” you said, chuckling. “And for the record, we’re not dating. He’s just insistent,” you explained.

Tom looked inside and saw Oliver staring at the two of you. An idea came up into his mind and he couldn’t quite get rid of it. It was smart, but also terrifying. It was very dangerous, yet he had to try.

“We could be in a fake relationship. It could fool everyone,” he proposed.

You turned to look at him, astonished.

“Even after what happened?”

Tom’s eyes were locked with yours, but his facial muscles didn’t move at all. If he still was hurt by the reason that made you two break up, he didn’t show it to you.

“He’s coming here,” he said instead, glancing at Oliver.

“Tom, this is insane,” you kept going. “You said you couldn’t forgive me after…”

It happened all too fast. All the lights went out at the same time. Tom's lips were on yours in an instant. Everything was on fire, every inch of your body. Every cell your flash was made of exploded like a dying supernova. A moment later, someone snatched him from your hands, leaving you in the cold.

Oliver hit him. Tom laughed, nervously, but then he grabbed the collar of Oliver’s shirt and slammed him against the wall, angrily. You pounced on Tom, trying to pull him away from Oliver. At first, Tom looked at you confused, thinking that you just wanted to keep Oliver safe from him, but your eyes told him another story: you prevented him to be kicked out from the campus.

“I told you, you’d know,” he said, while wiping a trickle of blood from his mouth, pretending to be the tough guy he wasn’t.

“Guys, I think we should leave,” Jacob said, while Harrison was taking Tom away from Oliver by his arm.

“I thought we were friends, Tom,” Oliver said, an inch of hurting in his voice tone.

“That was before you came after the only thing I care about,” he said harshly. And then, he left with Harrison and Jacob.

That night, while Tom was cleaning himself of blood in the bathroom, Jacob was staring at him worried, while standing with one arm against the door jamb.

“You never told me what happened, you know, with Y/N last year. Haz doesn’t want to tell me, he thinks it’s up to you. You said that you were over her, but I don’t think you are, since what you did tonight,” he said. Tom kept wiping away the blood from his shirt, ignoring Jacob’s words. “Why have you broken up with her, Tom? It seems pretty obvious that you’re still in love with her”.

Tom gulped, while looking at himself in the mirror. He had tried to bury all of his memories deep down, but it seemed that now the demons wanted to come back and play with him once again. Maybe it had finally come the time to confront them.

When he spoke, his voice was low and hoarse: “Because she cheated on me”.

Read chapter 2 here!

[leviiattacks]

hi bestie!! pls pretty pls do a levi one where he takes care of a sick y/n im feeling a bit under the weather and im getting kinda scared bc of covid :<< anything to help calm my nerves pls? thank you <3

author note :: get well soon anon :-( i’m super sick rn too (when am i not tho </3) so i get how it is. this isn’t that great because i wrote it pretty quick but i hope it eases youuu :-) this is just pure fluff and sappy stuff and yup yup MODERN LEVI BC... listen i have a soft spot for modern levi word count :: some how i got to 1.4k ????? idk how i always go over the expected word count i have in my head 

it’s literally been YEARS since the last time you were sick

if you really dig through the depths of your memory you’d say maybe you were last sick when you were seven???

it’s that or your memory is just not great

either way, you really do not want to bother anyone with your sickness so you decide to hole up in your room for the entire day

you don’t even tell levi about it because you know he’ll drop everything for the sake of your comfort

the only problem is that midway through the day you’ve become so bedridden you can’t even begin to fathom attending classes tomorrow

you guess you’ll be taking another day off

as that thought crosses your mind your bedroom door bursts open

“i...” levi lets out a long sigh and you look at him dazed from your pounding headache

you’re surrounded by scrunched up tissues and your cold meds have been left untouched

“i’m gonna get you sick too. back away.” you’re frowning and signalling with your hands that you want him out

your nose is stuffy and you’re sniffling but levi just rolls his eyes before he sits next to you on the floor

buried in your duvet you look a little like a burrito and he laughs at that

“do you know where the thermometer is? i’ll check on your fever.”

he’s looking at you waiting for an answer

you think for a second and then you try to rummage through the timeline of today’s events.

to be fair you’re a little disoriented but for some unknown reason you feel yourself get a little teary eyed

maybe it’s a mix of your upcoming deadlines looming over you or perhaps it’s missing a really important class today

but it’s so sudden you don’t even know why your body is making you act so irrationally but that’s what fevers do

“i think i” you sniff and then the waterworks flood out of you. your brain can’t adjust to the severity of your headache and your urge to sleep is higher than ever

honestly you don’t cry very much so to see the tears worries levi almost immediately

“im sorry i misplaced it.” you croak out, your voice is all scaly and weird, you hate it

stupidly you get upset about that too

don’t people sound hot when they’re sick?? why do you sound like an angry bear...?

this is not fair.

“and i’m stressed.” you blow your nose but it continues to drip despite your constant attempts to stop it

nose bright red and hair disheveled levi’s eyes soften when he sees your workbook laying at the foot of your bed

notes are scribbles in random corners and your mind map is a chaotic mess but you’re trying your best given the circumstances

god, even when you’re sick you’re working hard. you’re ridiculous but in the most endearing way known to man

“alright, lay down.” he runs a hand through your hair to fix the birds nest before he adjusts your pillows and places your head down gently

“i’m sorry i’ve lost the-”

levi’s index finger presses against your lips and he shushes you

“get some rest, please.”

you comply but not before giving him a playful glare

his warm palms move to hold your face. cheeks squished together he swipes your tears away

“i’ve got some soup on the stove you’ll be good in no time.” his soft reassurance is comforting and protective

nodding you flutter your eyes shut.

you’re unable to sleep but levi’s presence is enough to ease you even if it’s just a little you do feel better

fifteen minutes pass and levi returns he’s got you a hot cup of tea and the soup is nowhere to be seen

“i had an accident in the kitchen... so have some tea instead.”

you simply laugh it off, he’s trying his best and you’re alright with not having to be fed tomato soup

tomato soup..... it’s sick and twisted it tastes so bad

you recall having to force yourself to down an entire bowl last christmas after catching a cold

never ever again will you do that

anyways, pea soup superiority it’s the only valid type !!!

levi likes tomato soup though that’s the only reason it sits in bulk in one of the kitchen cabinets

he brushes the mountain of tissues on your bedside table away, he’ll dispose of them later

placing the cup of tea where the aforementioned tissues once were you then realize he’s brought you a slice of madeira cake to have alongside it

at this your eyes brighten you love madeira cake it’s so soft and buttery and simple but it’s just REALLY GOOD???

anyway, you definitely recommend everyone to have some it’s a solid 10/10

“picked some up on my way here.”

your heart swells affectionately

no one will ever love you as hard as he does

to be honest, the little things he does keep you grounded and you don’t really know where you’d be without him

he always pays attention to the things you love, always carries you from the couch to your bed, always tucks you in, always lingers a little just to make sure you’re sound asleep

you know about that last bit because on occasion you have stirred awake on accident

every single time he strokes your hair and holds you close ushering you back to sleep

again, you don’t know if it’s your fever making you emotional or the warm feeling of being loved so HARD?? it’s like whack a mole the only difference is being repeatedly hit by bursts of affection

not really a great analogy but your brain is fried right now and it’s the best you’ve got

levi sits next to you making the mattress shift and you then plop your head against his chest

“drink up.”

he hands you the cup of tea but you nuzzle your face into his neck instead forcing him to place it back down

“what are you doing?” he asks.

one of his hands draws circles onto your back soothing you and the other hand is fiddling around with the packaging of your cold meds, he looks to be reading the description just to make sure you can take them

the feeling of his t-shirt under your cheek fades away and you find yourself staring up at him

“get here.” he softly murmurs

rather than pressing a hand against your forehead he swoops down

at first his hands feel your face and neck

“you’re burning up.” he frowns and then he does it

he presses his forehead against yours and you swear you could stop breathing and pass out right then and there

“the fever’s getting worse, why didn’t you call me earlier i had to find out you were sick from-”

“i love you.”

he freezes.

“of course you love me but that’s not what we’re talking about right now.” he snorts and looks you right in the eye.

suddenly you’re kinda just a teeny-weeny bit self-conscious about your dark under eyes but you push that thought to the back of your mind

“no i mean. i really fucking love you levi.” the expletive only makes you sound more serious especially since you always scold him when he uses vulgar language

it looks as if his mouth moves to say it back but you stop him

“you don’t have to say it again. i’m saying it because you said it first.” you explain through your drowsy state

“when did i say it first?”

the fever must be really getting to you is what he’s thinking

“your actions spoke for you.”

he ever so slightly jabs you with his elbow before he carefully places your head back down onto his chest

“you’re so sappy.” he pecks your cheek and you hum silently still unable to breathe out of one of your nostrils

“i know but you’re sappier.”

levi doesn’t respond because he knows you’re correct

:-)

[fleursdemeduse]

Remembrance AU: Fighting For the Right Side

Warnings: Nightmare [Depiction of child death] ; Mention of death ; Allusion to mass murder and bombs

Words: 3.3k

You were quick to settle into your position in Pogtopia. Every day was primarily spent with Techno, but it was relaxing. You farmed, took trips to the bastion you two had met at, he protected you in fortresses, you two even went mining together. He was a comfortable constant in your world. Even when the voices got to be too much, you were with him. But that might have been what caused it all in the first place.

Settling into the small alcove Tommy said you could use, you decided that you could take this brief moment of quiet to read. You felt safe in the ravine, so much so that you had shed your armor back in Techno’s hidden stronghold.

Once sat in front of the fire, you tossed another small log in the flames. You'd have to go find more wood tomorrow but this was enough; The fire burning was bright enough you didn't need to light a torch and waste extra materials they might need, and the air warm enough you only needed a small throw blanket for added comfort to cuddle during the parts of your book the suspense physically got to you.

And so you got comfortable. You relaxed against the wall and you opened your book. Page 47.

Suddenly, sounds bombarded the child - a mad rustling, and then, twit twit, echoing over and over. They were familiar sounds, not particularly frightening, but unplaceable. A heartbeat was louder than anything else and the small nine year old could only wish that the sound were quieter. That everything was quieter.

The maze was an overgrown thing. Something so large that anyone who encountered it knew they could never escape. The shadows kept moving though; rushing faster than legs could ever hope to outrun. Faster and faster they crawled like vines all around. And soon the child was engulfed. Darkness spread to every limb, smothering wails that spilled from parted lips. There were no cries for help or alerts to any who would listen. Soon, nothing remained.

The crash had startled you awake. Your nightmare releasing it’s hold from you at the sudden sound. You relaxed quickly, however, seeing Wilbur in a heap next to the stairs. He must have fallen again. You pressed your lips together, remembering Techno’s words. “We used to have railin’s but Wilbur, he just really enjoyed fallin’ to his death.”

The brunet slowly got up and pat himself off before looking up at you and smiling. A smile like that could have made sunflowers turn to revel in its glow.

“Oh, hey. Sorry for waking you.” His voice was soft, probably to not wake anyone else if they hadn’t already been awoken already.

"Don't worry about it. It wasn’t a very good dream.” He nodded at you in understanding. “What were you doing out? On a secret mission?”

The teasing smile on your lips grew bigger when his smile soured and he scoffed, grumbling to himself about how every mission was technically a secret one.

Yours fell away when he started walking off, his softness darkened with the thought of what happened during his outing. You hesitated. You didn’t want to wake Techno. You two were only just growing closer and you didn’t know how the hybrid reacted to missing out on the little sleep he was actually getting. But you didn’t want to be with your thoughts. Despite not being even remotely close to the man now leaving you behind, you reached out for him. “Hey Wilbur?” He turned to look at you. "Can you stay? Just for tonight, please. I don't want to be alone after that."

You watched his brown eyes brighten and a boyish grin overtake his lips. It reminded you of Tommy’s. You briefly wondered if his mood always swung this dramatically. “I'll stay for as long as you need." He made his way to sit with you and you added another log to the fire, sitting up so the rock digging into your spine shifted away. Wilbur sat across from you, his presence immediately making you relax.

"So, Mr. Leader," You taunted once more, "What was the secret mission?"

In the coming days, you and Wilbur spent more time together. He’d tell you the most random facts about himself whilst you two worked, but you couldn’t bring yourself to pay it any mind.

-

"Hey [y/n], guess what?"

"Hm?"

"I was born on September 14th. That makes me a Virgo."

-

"Did you know I can play guitar?"

"I think everyone knows that about you, Wilbur. Why do you ask?"

"I just thought you might wanna hear me play you something sometime..."

-

"You know, I was once married to this wonderful salmon named Sally. You remind me of her sometimes."

-

“With you on our side, [y/n], I know that we’re going to win L’manburg back. And I promise you’ll have a spot in my cabinet.”

It was decided. Techno and yourself would attend the festival while Wilbur and Tommy hung back and watched from a safe distance. You were nervous. A bad feeling grew like a stone in your stomach as they all prepared.

"Hey [y/n], come here a moment, will you?" Sighing as you stood from the chest you were going through, you felt your back pop in a few different places and you hissed before walking to where Wilbur stood. It was silent in the ravine, everyone just as anxious about the festival as you.

"Yeah?" You asked, resting a hand on his arm as you peeked around him at the paper on the table. It was a map of Manburg with “x”s scattered across it.

"Are you prepared?" He glanced down at you, watching the crease in your eyebrows deepen as you examined the plans.

"Mhm." You hummed, finally looking up at him. His eyes were so warm when they looked at you, just like Techno’s. Even if he didn’t have a smile, they were always filled with that same warmth that made you feel important. The two were more like brothers than either cared to admit. "Why?"

"Can I tell you something and you keep it a secret from Tommy and Techno?" Everything around you felt like it had stilled. Everything waiting for the other shoe to drop. The stone suddenly felt heavier.

"What is it?” He continued looking at you and you found it almost hard to breathe. "Wilbur?"

His hand reached to cup your cheek gently. They weren’t calloused like Technoblade’s. They were the hands of a poet, of a musician, of someone whose hand reached for the quill not the sword. They smelled of gunpowder. Your heart felt like it was in your throat when you realized what all of those “x”s were.

“You would risk letting all those people die just so you could have L’manburg back? Why?”

His voice came out hoarse when he finally brought himself to speak. "Because if I can’t have it, no one can, [y/n]. I'm so sorry."

Your lips trembled. You thought of all of the innocent people who would never see it coming. You thought of Tommy and Techno, getting ready in another part of the ravine who wouldn’t know until it was too late. You thought of the man before you who probably felt like he was doomed to keep repeating this action again and again. When had blowing something up ever worked in his past lifetimes? He had to know that this was crazy, right?

Wilbur continued to stare at your frightened face for a moment. He looked so serious. His dark eyebrows drawn together and lips turned just the slightest bit downward. But his eyes? The warmth that filled them seemed to be slowly draining and being replaced with dark melancholy. You hated that look on him and drew your hand up to hold the one cradling your face. “You don’t have to do this, y’know. There is always another way.”

Wilbur stepped forward, pulling you into an embrace that smelled of cedar and leather. His hand left your cheek to instead hold your head to his chest. You didn’t like this hug. This hug felt like he knew things were going to go horribly wrong and he didn’t want you to see the aftermath of it. “If there were one, we would have found it by now.”

Your hands gripped the soft material of his trench coat and you pressed your face into his sweater. You didn’t want this. You were happy to help where you could, but you didn’t want to be a part of the destruction of a nation. You just wanted to help your friends overthrow a tyrant. “I wish I were as brave as you, Wil.”

The soft huff of a chuckle reverberated through his chest as he squeezed you tighter. “Did you know that that’s the first time you’ve called me something other than my name?” His voice was uplifted at the end. He almost sounded happy by the thought. It was squashed when he sighed, pressing his face into your hair. “I wouldn’t call it bravery, though. Still, I promise that we’ll all end up on the other side of this together.”

You tilted your head up a bit to look at him. “Where else would we be?”

He didn’t answer you, just held you tighter.

If there was one thing Wilbur couldn’t describe himself as, it was good.

In previous lives, he had been a cruel, sadistic god. He forced hundreds of people to compete for his entertainment. They were rats, moles, ants, sometimes even just humans while he played the part of omnipotent creator. He had been a king sometimes, or a hero. And time and time again, he was just an older brother. But no matter what, he couldn’t seem to save the people who loved him the most. He couldn’t protect the ones who looked up to him; be it because he found sick joy in their deaths, or because he wasn’t strong enough.

He never felt strong enough.

When Technoblade had told him of the strange person whom he had met in the nether, he almost brushed it off. There was no way he had met someone whom he hadn’t shared at least one lifetime with. There was no such thing as new players who weren’t just NPCs.

However, when you stepped into the ravine, inventory absolutely filled with different items that you just willingly handed over to the pink haired hybrid with a smile, he was utterly floored. The curve of your lips, the tone of your voice, even the look in your eyes were all new to him. He had never once met you.

He approached the two of you with hurried steps, wondering what kind of trick you were playing, only to freeze when you turned your gaze to him. He could hear his own blood rushing through his ears and, for a moment, he wondered if you could hear it too. The expression you wore unnerved him. It was as if you had seen every lifetime, every possibility. Yet you still had the nerve to smile shyly at him. When you waved at him in silent greeting, he knew Technoblade had been completely correct in his assumption. Your lives were missing from your wrist.

You were an investment.

But no one made him feel as powerless as you did.

You were able to try things over and over and over again. You weren’t held back by memories of mistakes or fears. The tiny flits of trauma they all seemed to feel were just… absent in your being. You were unapologetic about running errands in Manburg and doing reconnaissance whilst you were out, seemingly unafraid during the recounts you had given him of meeting Schlatt and Tubbo for the first time.

And this seemed to hold true in your interactions with Tubbo. He didn’t treat you with the same feral energy he shared with Tommy or the attitude he put forth for his leaders. When you weren’t spending almost every waking moment with Technoblade, the soft murmur of your soft voices being heard through the stone walls that led to the farm, you were interacting with one or both of the teenagers that helped fuel the rebellion. Tubbo told you about new ideas he had, or described to you his day, or even just explained to you things that even he himself knew he would have trouble understanding, despite Tubbo being the one to explain them. Wilbur noticed that you just did that. You listened patiently while someone talked, despite the knowing look in your eye that made him feel like you already knew exactly what they were about to say. And this seemed to carry over into your relationship with Tommy.

You paid rapt attention to the blond, reminding him that even if he was still technically a child, that doesn’t mean he didn’t deserve to be listened to. The oddest part he found, though? Tommy actually returned the favor in kind. It wasn’t so much that you would go on long-winded tangents and he’d be forced to sit there and listen. It was that when you asked or told the sixteen year old to do something, he did it without too much of a fight. That’s not to say he wouldn’t talk back to you, he did almost every time, but it was the point that he would still do what you said without much hesitation. And every single time, Wilbur felt the sharpest stab of envy.

He had questioned Tommy after the first couple instances of it happening before him. He had cornered the very person who had been his younger brother in many previous lives against the cold stone wall on one of the walk ways while you and Techno were out gathering things from the nether and demanded to know why. However, the young soldier just shrugged in response. “They just usually have very fun ideas.” He had stared long and hard at the blonde, the other fiddling with the hem of his dirty shirt. He made a mental note to ask if you’d be willing to do laundry for them when you next went to Manburg. “That and…”

“And?” Wilbur had immediately prompted, knowing the time he had to question the younger was running short.

“They just have that tone of voice. And something makes me feel like I should listen when they tell me to do something.” Wilbur rolled his eyes, opening his mouth to berate him. “Sometimes it feels like they know way more than they should. Like they already know what’s going to happen.”

The brunet’s words died on his tongue.

They all felt like that.

But if you knew so much, why did you never talk about any of your past lives like the rest of them did? If you knew what was going to happen, why were you so patient and let them make mistake after mistake?

The thought sat bitterly at the forefront of his mind as he pat himself off, having fallen off the side of the walkway yet again. He almost regretted removing the child-proofing, but he was an adult, and he didn’t need them, and he certainly wasn’t going to recant his insistence that they didn’t need them. He turned when he heard shifting and saw you slumped against the side of the ravine.

In the dim lighting, you looked different. You were cuddled under a thin blanket, eyebrows furrowed and mouth pressed into a pout that reminded him of a child. He must have awoken you. You looked rather cute like this, though.

He smiled at you despite himself. He was still a little hesitant about being around you. He didn’t need help in his daily activities like Technoblade, he didn’t need a guiding hand like Tommy, and he felt plenty listened to daily, unlike Tubbo.

But somehow, he didn’t feel as loved as you were.

“Oh hey, sorry for waking you.” The words had slipped from his mouth before he had had a chance to stop them. Now he’d be forced to converse with you. He watched your eyes look away from him, even in the dim light.

"It wasn’t a very good dream.” You didn’t have good dreams? What was there to have a nightmare of? He tucked that piece of information away for later, your eyes were back on him. “What were you doing out? On a secret mission?”

His mood immediately dropped, especially when he saw the mocking grin that planted itself on your face. It was as if this were a game to you. “Every mission we pursue is a secret one, you of all people should know that.”

The grin just grew and he felt his chest tighten. How could you act so lax when you seemed to know exactly what happened when he was out there? He turned to walk back to his desk to write about the events that had transpired and quell his anger. He wasn’t truly upset with you, he knew that, and he didn’t want to take that out on the one person that seemed to be holding together his fellow usurpers, but you almost irritated him. His soft steps reverberated through their base.

“Hey Wilbur?”

His steps faltered. Despite your previous mood, you suddenly sounded so small. Afraid. He looked at you from over his shoulder and was surprised to see your extended hand.

“Can you stay for tonight? I don’t want to be alone after that.”

A new feeling sparked in him.

You wanted him? The one who had been so helpful for everyone else, to the cause, even to him on occasion, needed his help? How bad had your dream been? You looked so distraught, so powerless. He didn’t feel so weak when you looked at him like that.

“I’ll stay for as long as you need.” Your eyes held a warmth that could rival the fire in front of them. You moved to feed it and he sat across from you. You two weren’t close in either sense of emotionally or physically.

When had that changed?

He felt compelled to check up on you more after that night, use you as the investment that he believed you to be. No one in Manburg knew of your status, and he was planning on using it to their advantage.

Or, he had been.

But you made him feel safe about sharing things about himself. You were easy to talk to, easy to work around, easy to listen to. You would have been so easy to use.

Maybe that’s why he told you of the plan he and Tubbo had come up with.

You had found your way into much more than his good graces, just like the rest of them, and he didn’t want you to get caught in the crossfire. You were so susceptible to influence, he feared you’d start to see him as a villain. He knew what people would say about him. He wanted you to know his thoughts and feelings before you could be tainted by their remarks.

He had shared memories with you before. They all had. Words seemed to fall unencumbered whenever you were around and they were all victim to it. But you hadn’t judged any of them on the actions they had taken in their previous lives. You didn’t even judge them on the actions they had taken in this one. Despite this, he was still scared you’d be turned against him if he wasn’t the one to tell you.

“I think everyone deserves a chance to prove themselves.”

It was his turn to prove that they were fighting for the right side.

[blacknight1230]

The Past Catches Up With You

OUAT Peter Pan Imagine

Prompt: “I know what I have to do. But going back means I’ll have to face my past. I’ve been running from it for so long” & “Once you’re grown up, you can never come back.” 

The sound if arrows flying through the air then hitting their target and the clashing of swords filled the area. “Nice one, Devin. Now try letting go of the arrow when you breath out,” you instructed one of the Lost Boys. Devin wordlessly nodded and did what you told him, his arrow hitting the target dummy straight in the head. “Excellent work. Rufio, don’t do such fancy moves. It’s about hitting the target in the weak points, not showing off,” you commanded. “Whatever you say, mom,” Rufio sassed, ignoring your helpful tips. You narrowed your eyes at him and strode up to him, quickly knocking him off his feet with a few well placed punches and kicks. “And this is why Pan ordered me to train you boys. You guys are good fighters, but he wants the best, so you either listen to what I say or you’ll end up worse than this,” you scolded the dazed teen. You walked away, towards Pan’s second-in-command, and one of your best friends, Felix. 

“Nice way to show them who’s boss, (y/n),” Felix complemented as he sharpened his sword. “Thanks, Felix. These boys have sure have authority problems when it comes to someone other than Pan giving them orders,” you said, sitting next to Felix on a log. “They listen to me, though,” Felix pointed out. “True. I have theory that they don’t respect me as much cause I’m the only girl here. And I happen to be one of Pan’s most trustworthy,” you told the scar-faced teen. “It’s possible. The boys aren’t too keen on newcomers. You being a girl doesn’t make matters better.” You rolled your eyes; you’ve been here for a couple of years, but time on Neverland was different than everywhere else. “I’ve earned this position despite being a girl. They should know that Pan doesn’t just trust me without a proper reason,” you said, crossing your arms in front of your chest. “Speak of the devil,” Felix said, motioning his head towards a figure appearing from the green foliage. 

Peter Pan stood to the side of the training ground, eyes intensely watching the boys as they practiced archery, swording fighting, and sparring. Authority and dark magical power radiated from his figure, his green eyes glowing as they seemingly stared into the very existence of his Lost Boys. He was expressionless as he mentally noted what the boys were doing wrong and right. The sight before you made you feel warm, but you tried not to show how the piper affected you. Said boy locked eyes with you, a smirk breaking out onto his lips as he strode over to you. “Tired, love. Are the boys too much for you to handle?” he teased, raising one magnificently sculpted eyebrow. “More like they can’t handle me. Rufio over there is still bandaging his hurt pride when I knocked him to the ground for back talking,” you chuckled, eyeing said boy. He was grumpily pouting on a wooden log across from where you were. Peter found this rather amusing, a sly smirk on his face. “His loss, love. Come, I think the boys had enough training for today,” he said, getting up from the log. He whistled loudly, getting all the, boys attention and told them, “Alright, boys training’s over! Get back to camp if you want your fill of dinner before its gone!” 

A stampede of hungry, teenage boys rushed towards the main camp, dirt and dust flying as they did so. You camly got up and followed the horde of Lost Boys, used to their frenzied antics. Peter walked alongside you, as you took your time walking the path back to the main camp. “I’m still surprised you can put up with our rowdiness. Being a princess and all, I’d expect you complain endlessly about how ‘wild’ we are,” Peter said as you traveled through the jungle of Neverland. “Hey, I was a rebel princess. If I wasn’t, I wouldn’t even be here,” you defended yourself, punching the King of Neverland playfully, but hard, in the arm. Pan allowed you to hit him, as you knew he could easily stop you, and playfully cried out in pain. 

Before you were the first Lost Girl on Neverland, you were a princess, although not first in line to inherit your kingdom. Unlike the other inhabitants of Neverland, you were not from the Enchanted Forest or the Land Without Magic. You were a princess from another dimension, and you hated your royal roots. You hated the stuffy dresses, the countless rules, the strict and stone faced members of the royal house ... hell, you couldn’t even talk to or hang out with anyone that wasn’t humanoid or a royal non-humanoid from an allied kingdom. Like the monsters that were repressed by your people. It was suffocating and you didn’t conform to your families strict ideals. 

As such, your family finally had enough of your “rebelliousness” and decided to send you off to an institution know for “correcting” wayward princesses. You, in turn, had enough of royalty and fled your home without a word, seeking out the freedom you dearly longed for. Eventually, you found your way to Neverland, encountering Pan and his Lost Boys, who met your arrival with them encircling you with weapons drawn, aimed to kill. The only reason you were still alive today was that you were able to hear Pan’s flute, meaning you were lost, and therefore part of the Lost Boys. It took awhile for everyone to trust you, especially Pan, but it happened and you were never felt more like you were home. 

Back to the present, you and Peter finally reached the main camp, a raging bonfire going on in the middle of the layout of tents and huts. The boys were either chowing down or were dancing to the beat of the drums. Peter left you to go include himself in the boys merry making as you grabbed a bite to eat. Grabbing a slice of meat from the day’s hunt, you silently greeted a few of the boys with a raise of your cup. The younger boys dragged you to sit with them, happily chatting away as they told you about their day. 

Soon you were done with your meal and the music called to you. Like you were under a spell, you jumped into the frey of wildly dancing bodies, letting the music guide your movements. You danced freely with your fellow lost brothers, your mind focusing on the sound of the pan flute and the drums. As you danced around the fire, you saw Peter staring intensely at you with his green eyes, the light of the bonfire casting shadows across his face, intensifying the strikingness of his attractive features. You couldn’t help but keep his gaze as you danced, enjoying the way he was looking at you with such intensity, an undistinguishable emotion flowing in his eyes. 

Unfortunately, the party was interrupted by a loud sound and a bright light. Everyone stopped in the middle of what they were doing, staring at a hole ripped into the fabric of space and time right near the center of the campgrounds. The portal seemed to shine brighter as two figures appeared from the other side of it. As they stepped through, the portal closed behind them, allowing you to see their features now that the unnatural brightness was gone. One of the figures was a teenage boy, characterized with tan skin, dark brown hair, and a mole on his right cheek. He was wearing red hoodie over a light grey shirt, dark grey skinny jeans, and olive/white sneakers on his slender build. His brown eyes eyed the Lost Boys nervously, his hand twitching over the hilt of the sword in his sheath. The other figure was a teenage girl with long blonde hair, light blue eyes, and fair skin. On her head, she wore a magenta headband with devil horns, paired with a green and mint collared short sleeved dress, pink and purple striped leggings, white boots with pink tips and a star on each heel, along with a black spider necklace. But the most astonishing part about the girl was the pink heart shaped marks she had on her cheeks. 

Peter and the Lost Boys immediately surrounded the two newcomers, weapons pointed at them. “Who the hell are you and what are you doing on my island?” Peter growled. The boy immediately pulled out his sword and took a defensive stance. The girl on the other hand, raised her hands up and yelled, “Stop! We’re not here to hurt anyone! We’re just looking for someone!” Peter dismissed her claim, saying, “Whoever you are looking for is not here! Now leave before my boys and I make you wish you never stepped foot here!” The boy raised their weapons, slowly drawing closer to the new girl and boy. The girl now raised her up hands up and took a defensive stance, her hands glowing purple with magic. 

Before any violence could come to a head, you shouted a command out to the Lost Boys and Peter, breaking the tense air. “Everyone put your weapons down!” you shouted, voice strong and dominating. The Lost Boys, confused by the order, slightly lowered their weapons and allowed you to walk through the crowd of them to the new visitors. As you showed yourself to the newcomers, the blonde haired girl’s eyes widened and her mouth dropped open in shock. “ (Y/n)?” the girl said. “Star,” you said breathlessly, unable to bite back the smile that made its way to your face. Star’s hands stopped glowing and she tackled you ina hug, which you gladly returned. “Um, what’s going on?” the hoodie wearing boy asked, completely clueless. “Marco, this is my cousin I told you about? I’m pretty sure I told you about my favorite family member,” Star explained, looking at her friend while still holding on you. 

“Oh, isn’t this precious,” Pan sneered, interrupting the moment. “A family reunion. How wonderful that they’ve come to visit.” You decided to ignore Peter and his terrible attitude, continuing to talk to your four-years younger cousin. “How did you find me, Star? Neverland isn’t on any map and can’t be visited through ordinary means,” you asked. “I was able to use your old tiara to finding out what dimension you were in! Pretty cool right,” Star bragged a giant smile on her face. Before you could say another word, Peter got in between the two of you, creating a distance of a few feet. “Peter!” you exclaimed angrily. “What the hell?” “I don’t care that you’re her family. I want you off my island. (y/n) has already told me about the way you treated her and I don’t want someone like you here because of it,” he coldly told Star. “Hey, man, back off!” Star’s friend, Marco, yelled stepping in front of Star protectively. The Lost Boys didn’t like this, murder in their eyes as they crowded around you four, fingers itching to use their weapons. “Everyone stop! I don’t want any fighting!” you shouted, dreading for any blows coming to a head. The Lost Boys slightly calmed down, but they were still tense. 

“Peter, Star was the only one in my family that I could be myself around. I see I rubbed off on you a bit,” you said. “You guys keep talking about our family as if they were abusive, keeping you locked up and so on,” Star pointed out. “I forget you were too young to understand at the time. Grandma Etheria and the rest of the Butterfly family constantly looked down at me, finding fault in everything I did. I didn’t dress right, talk right, sit right, walk right ... and they let me know. It practically destroyed my self-esteem. And to make matter worse, Grandma Etheria decided to send me to St. Olga’s,” you explained to your younger cousin. “Oh no, not St. O’s!” Star exclaimed in horror. “Please don’t tell me they tried to turn you into a mindless ‘perfect’ princess!” As she said this, she grabbed your forearms and shook you a bit. “Calm down, Star, I didn’t go to St. O’s. I left home before I was forcibly shipped off. I had a pair of dimension scissors and used them to hop from dimension to dimension until I eventually found my way here,” you continued, smiling when you reminisced about finding Neverland, your true home. 

“I’m happy you found a place you could finally be yourself. If I wasn’t so desperate for your help, I wouldn’t even ask you this,” Star said. This worried you; what did she want you to do? Star quickly answered your question before you voiced it, saying, “I need you to come back to Mewni with me.” “What?!” you shouted, eyes wide and mouth agape. “I’m sorry, but I really need your help! My mom has disappeared and I can’t find her, the Butterfly castle and kingdom are destroyed by Eclipsa’s half-monster daughter and she escaped her crystal! I can’t do this on my own and everything is in disarray!” Star cried. 

All this new information shocked you, making you stand there in silence. Peter decided to step in, angrily setting in Star’s face. “You might be royalty, but I’m the king here. I say who steps foot on and leaves my island. This includes (y/n). Since she’s lost, that means she belongs here and with me. Shfe’s mine, and she’s not going anywhere off this island,” he threatened. Star stood her ground, staring into his harsh green eyes that seemed to glow with dark power. “Then you don’t know (y/n), because she hates other people making choices for her.” She turned towards you and continues, saying, “(y/n), I’m sorry for our family treating you so terribly and I understand your reason for running away. But I still care for you and so does my mother, both of us missing you terribly when you left. If you still love us as much as we love you, I beg you to help me. I need you, my mom needs you, Mewni needs you!” 

(y/n) could only stand there in silence, which Peter mistook for her not wanting to return to her home, while in reality she was pondering over her beloved cousin’s words. “Get off my island. I never want to see your faces again,” he threatened, before whistling loudly, causing the Lost Boys to snap into a a violent, wild frenzy. The area was quickly filled with the sounds of weapons clashing, cries of pain, and angry shouts as Star and Marco fought the Lost Boys. Luckily, Star and Marco were successfully able to defend themselves, despite being greatly outnumbered. Star’s voice filled the air as she shouted spells and Marco yelled as he used karate moves/defended himself with his sword. You tried yelling at both sides to stop fighting, but neither side listened to you, either not hearing you over all the noise or not caring enough to listen to you. This made you angry, so angry you used your magic to cast a powerful spell to end the violence. 

Unlike Star, you didn't need to verbally say a spell to use your magic, simply sending out a wave of bluish-white magic to emit from your magically glowing figure. As the wave of magic hit the Lost Boys, Peter, Star, and Marco, they were enveloped into a quartz of crystal, frozen in place. You sighed as you stood past the crystal prisons of your fellow Lost Boys, stopping at Peter’s crystal, staring at his evil smirk on his face and the magic accumulated in his hands. “You just couldn’t wait and let me think for a moment could you, “ you said sadly. You used your magic to reverse the spell, and on Star and Marco as well. The three teens fell to the ground, gasping for breath. “I’m so sorry, guys. This was the only way to get you to stop fighting and listen to me,” you apologized, helping Star up first. “Was that the Crystal Imprisonment Spell that Rhombulas uses? Where did you learn it?” Star asked, amazed that you could do such advanced magic. “Glossaryck used to give me private lessons. He said that I needed to learn magic, too, in case something happens. But he wasn’t specific on what that was,” (y/n) explained. “That sounds like Glossaryck.” 

You turned towards Peter as he growled, getting up from the ground and his green eyes��trained on you. “You little ... How dare you use your magic on me!” he yelled, “Release the Lost Boys right now (y/n)!” “You left me no choice, Peter. You all were attacking my family and I couldn’t just stay by,” you said sternly, brows furrowed as you scolded him. “How can you defend them? They’re the main reason why you are on Neverland in the first place! Or haven’t you forgot that?” Pan seethed. “I haven’t forgotten what they did to me, Pan. But this just isn’t about my family anymore. My homeland is in danger and you’re wrong to think I’ll just sit around and watch shit hit the fan!” you yelled, turning around to walk away, thinking that was the end of it. But it wasn’t and Pan wanted to let you know it. “Oh really? Well, know this, princess, you’ll eventually be disappointed as nothing is going to change. You’ll still be the miserable, insecure, little girl you were when you came here, scrutinized by your family and your people,” Peter threatened, teeth clenched and pure hatred seeping from his pores. 

You stopped, back still facing Peter. Said boy smirked, thinking he won this argument. But what you said surprised the male, saying, without looking at him, “I know what I have to do now, Peter. I know going back means I’ll have to face my past. I’ve been running from it for so long but I have to face it sooner or later. And I choose now.” Pan stood there shocked, mouth open a bit as he contemplated your words, and watched as Marco effortlessly opened a portal to another dimension with a pair of scissors, then entered the hole in the fabric of time and space while mumbling about ‘nachos,’ whatever that was. Star on the other hand, nervously looked behind her at Peter, seemingly contemplating if taking (y/n) away from her current home was a good thing, before regretfully entering the swirling portal. 

Before the (h/c) haired girl followed the two, she turned her head to the side, looking at so called King of Neverland. “I promise I’ll come back as soon as I can, Peter, to my home, the Lost Boys, and you,” she said, so much raw emotion held in her eyes. But Peter didn’t care, only focussing on the frustration that took over his heart and mind. “I forbid you from leaving, (y/n)! When you leave this island, you’ll eventually grow up, and once you’re grown up, you can never come back!” he shouted angrily. (Y/n) physically flinched and quickly turned her head back towards the portal, trying not to show the tears in the corners of her eyes. “Goodbye, Peter. Until we meet again.” And with those words, she stepped through the portal and left Neverland, seemingly forever. 

As the portal closed behind her, (y/n)’s magic seemed to leave with her, as the crystals imprisoning the Lost Boys started to melt, freeing them from their containment. Felix was the first to get his bearings, stroding over to Peter and placing a hand on his shoulder, said King of Neverland not tearing his eyes away from the spot in which (y/n) walked into the portal. “Pan, what happened? Where’s (y/n) and the other two?” Felix asked his fearless leader, a scowl on his scarred face. “She’s gone, Felix. She left Neverland,” Peter told his second-in-command emotionlessly. 

Before the taller male could question him some more, the green-clad boy turned and walked away from the center of the campgrounds, towards his own private tent. Felix knew he was taking the Lost Girl’s departure harder than he let on. But he gave his trustful leader some space, allowing Peter to let his emotions loose in private. “(Y/n), I hope you know what you’re doing,” Felix said quietly to himself, before moving to help his fellow Lost Boys recover from the recent events.

~ Time Skip ~

“Again! I expect you to redo everything until you lot get this right! I have no excuse for weak, boys in my army of Lost Boys!” Peter seethed. It was several months, possibly a year, since (y/n) left Peter and Neverland. At first, Peter was angry, at (y/n) and her cousin, for leaving Neverland. Then, he was angry at himself for letting the Lost Girl leave, thinking he should have done everything he could from letting the girl leave. Eventually, Peter’s anger faded away and was replaced with a longing to see his favorite girl again. It was only until (y/n) left did Peter realize he felt something for the rebel princess, seeing her more as just another inhabitant of Neverland and a pawn in his games. And when he realized this non-platonic feelings, he regretted being so heartless to (y/n) before she left, hating himself for letting that be the last thing he ever said to the (h/c) haired girl. 

Since (y/n) left Neverland, Peter changed, unfortunately for the worse. He was harsher and more cruel towards his Lost Boys and those that had the misfortune of being his enemy. All Pan cared for now was power, stopping at nothing to increase his magical strength by achieving immortality, regardless of the lives he had to take. And that meant he was setting in motion the events that would lead to taking the heart of the Truest Believer from a young boy to remain young forever. 

Hence, the current intense training session the Lost Boys were doing, as Pan need them to be prepared for everything and anything, failure not being an option. “Who knew (y/n) leaving effect Pan this much? He’s been running us into the ground during training even since the girl left him,” Rufio mumbled to a couple of other Lost Boys. Pan heard this, and he did not like it. “What was that Rufio?” he snarled and turned towards the wise-cracking Lost Boy. Rufio’s face paled in fear as Pan strode towards him, his friends that once surrounded him nowhere to be seen, as they fled from Pan’s wrath. 

The poor Lost Boy stood quaking in his boots as the King of Neverland stood in front of him, the slightly shorter leader wrapping a hand around Rufio’s throat, crushing his windpipe and preventing any air from reaching his lungs. Rufio gasped from breath as the other Lost Boys stood there in fear induced silence, unable to do anything but watch. “You’ve been mouthing off too much for my tastes. Looks like I’m going to have to put a stop to it permanently,” Peter growled. He shoved his hand into his chest, fingers wrapping around the boys heart. “Please, no...” Rufio pleaded. 

Pan was just about to rip the boys heart out of his chest and then crush it to dust, when a loud noise and bright light shook the camp site. Everyone turned their heads to the sky, where a giant multicolored portal hung just below the treetops. Something or someone, came out of it, falling to the ground, and the portal closed violently with a loud bang. Peter and the Lost Boys were unable to do anything, as the figure got up from the ground and their features finally revealed by the light of the fire. (H/c) locks framed a (face shape) face, (e/c) eyes looking over everything as a bright smile broke out on the female’s (thin/plump) lips. 

Felix was the first to break the silence, calling out the name of the person. “(y/n)? Is that really you?” the second-in-command asked, shocked that the girl had finally returned to Neverland. “Yeah, it's me,” the former Lost Girl replied a smile on her face. Felix immediately caught the girl in a hug, picking up the (much/slightly) shorter girl in his excitement. It seemed the spell was broken, as the Lost Boys immediately started moving towards the former Lost Girl, chatter filling the silence. 

“Welcome back, (y/n),” Felix said to the girl, after he pulled away from her. “It’s great to be back,” (y/n) replied, her face so full of light and joy. Her (e/c) eyes caught Peter’s, causing the girl to stare straight into the piper’s eyes. He was stunned; here she was, the girl Peter has been obsessing over ever since she left, popping out of the blue, acting as if she never left in the first place. Their longing glaze was broken by a younger Lost Boy tugging on (y/n)’s hand, her attention turning towards the little one. “(Y/n), will you be staying here? Please don’t leave us again,” he said, his voice honey sweet and blue eyes looking at the (h/c) girl with pleading eyes. “Don’t worry, Jack,” (y/n) said, lowing herself so she could be eye level with the young boy. “I won’t be leave you.” 

She rose to her full height and announced with a loud voice, “In fact, I will never have to leave Neverland again. From this moment forward, this island will be my forever home!” The campsite erupted in cheers and howls, all the Lost Boys loudly showing their approval. “If that’s the case then, let’s celebrate! To our one and only Lost Girl!” Felix cheered. As if it wasn’t already possible, the boys got even louder, happily cheering at the chance to party. Peter could only stare on wordlessly, as (y/n) was swept away by several Lost Boys, losing his sight on the magnificent girl. 

~ Time Skip ~

The Lost Boys howled in delight as the drums were banged and the fire in the center of the campsite crackled. Peter watched from the side lines as they danced wildly. But his gaze was focused on one very special dancer. His green eyes followed (y/n), watching every move of her limbs and bend of her body as she danced without a care in the world. She was one with the music as she her body followed the rhythm of the drums. Peter’s eyes caught (y/n)’s (e/c) ones, everything around him seeming to slow down as did so. 

He immediately tore his gaze away from her, pretending to be watching Felix wrestle some unfortunate soul into the dirt ground. In the corner of his eye, he saw (y/n) stop her lively dancing and steadily make his way towards him. Peter felt his breath get caught in his chest as she came closer, but was able to calm himself down before (y/n) got close enough to notice the effect she had on him. 

“Enjoying the party?” she asked him, leaning against the bark of a tree next to him. “Of course. I enjoy seeing my boys let loose for once. The drinks help a bit, too,” he replied, gesturing towards the wooded cup in his hand. (Y/n) gazed out at rowdy group of wild teenage boys in front of her, a closed-mouth smile on her face. “I missed this. The freedom, how carefree everything is, not having any responsibilities,” she admitted. “You missed all of this? Even Rufio’s attitude?” he asked, surprised. 

(Y/n) let out a short laugh, music to Peter’s ears. “Is it so surprising I missed my home. There wasn’t a day where I didn’t long to come back here and just let loose,” (y/n) continued, (e/c) eyes glowing in the firelight as she stared out at the wild party goers. It was silent for a little bit, a hint of awkwardness in the air. “So, um, what exactly happened back on Meowy?” Peter spoke up, desperately trying to break the silence. “Mewni. And so much happened. Everything has changed. And I couldn’t be happier,” (y/n) explained, a smile on her face as she reminisced. “Tell me about it. I’ve never heard of it before.” 

“Well, I won’t go into the long and detailed history, I’m sure you wouldn’t want to hear about that. But I will tell you that Mewni is now unified between its people and the kingdom is in the hands of its true queen,” (y/n) explained as shortly as she could. “Well, that’s good,” Peter replies. A pregnant pause filled the air, until Peter thankfully broke it. “Is what you said before actually true?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper. “What?” you question, thinking you misheard him. “You said would never leave Neverland again? Was that true? Or was that just something you said that was in spur of the moment?” Peter continued. In the back of his mind, he couldn’t believe what she was true. Why would she want to stay here and be with me? he thought. Especially after how I treated her the last time I saw her. “Peter,” (y/n) said softly. “I was serious when I said that. Nothing will make me leave Neverland and you guys again.”

Peter felt his heart stop for moment, in disbelief at what she just told him. (Y/n) turned her kind gaze away from looking down at her hands folded in her lap. “Besides, it’s not like I can return home anyway,” she said softly. “Wait, what?” Peter thought he heard wrong. “It’s no big deal. You already know I never saw Mewni as my home. Neverland is my home. When the chance came for me to spend forever in my homeworld or spend forever here, I made my choice,” she explained nonchalantly. Peter could only open his mouth wide in shocked silence. He never thought she would such a thing. Give up her family and everything she known just to be with for him and the Lost Boys. It was almost insane. 

“You really did all of that? Even after what I said to you before you left?” Peter gaped. “I’m sorry ... for what I said by the way. I wasn’t thinking straight and -” “Wow, the Peter Pan apologizing. To little old me,” (y/n) teased a goofy smile on her face. “Don’t make fun of me. You know I’m don’t ever apologize ” Peter pouted. (y/n) giggled, forcing a hidden smile to make its way to Peter’s lips. “I missed you, you know. Can you believe that?” Peter admitted, trying to hide his warming cheeks. (y/n) was astonished at his confession.“You really missed me? I thought you would have forgotten about me.” “I would never. There wasn’t a day I didn’t think about you,” Peter continued, gently taking the girl’s hands into his. (Y/n) looked down their combined hands, cheeks red at the feeling of Peter’s warm hands. “I did, too. The thought of Neverland and you kept me going. You were my reason to keep fighting, so one day I would be able to return to you.” 

Peter gently placed his fingertips under her chin, directing her downcast eyes to look at him. “(Y/n) ...” he trailed off. He didn't know what he was going to say, his eyes flicking to her luscious soft lips. Peter couldn’t help but subconsciously darted his tongue out to wet his own, longing to meet them with hers. His hand trailed to cup her cheek, enjoying the site of her reddening skin under his rough fingertips. (Y/n)’s luminous (e/c) orbs nervously flew to look back at him, her breathing hitching in her throat. He watched her for a moment, looking for any indication that she was uncomfortable. But there was none, so Peter slowly inched closer, stopping until there was little more than an inch between them. He heart stopped as (y/n) closed the distance between them, the organ soaring at the feeling of her luscious lips on his own. Peter felt her wrap her hands around his neck loosely, his other hand moving to grip tightly to (y/n)’s hip. He could taste the Neverberries from the juice she had before, along with a specific taste he couldn’t quite identify. But he couldn't get enough it, shown by him adding more pressure into the kiss. (Y/n) reacted positively, fingers gripping onto the hairs at the base of his neck, a little mewl coming from her lips as she relaxed into his hold. Peter was just about to kick it up a notch when they were rudely interrupted. 

“Hey, lovebirds! Get a tent will ya?” Felix shouted from across the campfire, hands cupped over his mouth and announcing the scene to everyone. (Y/n) was the first to pull away, face red as the Lost Boys howling once they noticed what their leader and Lost Girl were doing. “Shut up all of you!” Peter hollered at the boys. He was just about to teach them all a lesson when he felt (y/n) lean her head onto his chest. He looked down she was hiding her face in his shirt in embarrassment, the sight causing his heart pang in pity. “Peter, let’s go somewhere else. Please,” (y/n) quietly pleaded. “Alright, dear. Let’s head back to my tent. I still want to be with my favorite Lost Girl,” he whispered in her ear, placing a kiss on her forehead. Peter wrapped an arm around the girl’s waist and gently led her away from the center of camp. The Lost Boys started cheer and make lewd comments, which Peter when stopped at the entrance of his private abode, (y/n) continuing on inside without him. “Not another word from any you, or else I’ll be locking you in the cages for a week!” he threatened, glaring at them with darkness in his eyes. The boys shut up, knowing their leader was serious as they avoided eye contact. “Felix, knock up into shape if anything happens.” The second-in-command smirked, giving Peter a quick wink. The green-clad boy ignored it, heading inside and back to the beautiful girl waiting for him. (y/n) was laying on his fur-covered bed, patiently waiting for him. Peter sighed and crawled next to her, pulling her into arms once he was comfortable. He snuggled into neck, placing soft kisses onto her exposed neck. “Stay with, darling. I want you in my arms tonight,” Peter pleaded, already feeling his eyes close in bliss. “With you. Always.” 

[maybedefinitely404]

Not Your Typical

Genre: college AU, hurt/comfort (kind of?)

Pairings: romantic Demus, Logicality, and Prinxiety

Content: some language, autistic character, sensory overload, mentions of losing friends in the past, anxiety, unintentional self harm, Roman is kind of a jerk but he regrets it, food mentions, unable to eat certain consistencies, beach/water/swimming, Janus being a disaster gay, ASL, selective mutism.

Word count: 6k

Comments: Like always, I don’t intend for these to be so long. Holy cow.

Janus is written based mostly on my experiences as someone with autism, and how it’s affected my childhood/relationships/daily life. No one’s experience is the same.

Janus was always alone. Alone, not lonely. 

Most of the time, that is. 

His whole childhood was an endless cycle of make a friend, weird them out, be alone. Find another friend, weird them out, be alone. And sometimes it hurt, yeah, but he got used to it. At home, he spent the entire day in his room, assembling structures out of legos before tearing them down and starting over. Sometimes he’d build something really cool, and that would stay up for a long time. He didn’t have any siblings, and his parents didn’t give a whoop as long as the floor was generally clear, so no one ever bothered the space ships or towers or just really long lines that stretched from one wall to the other. He liked those. 

Things changed when he got to middle school. Life started getting real, people became more than just recess friends, and that unsettled him. He made a couple close friends, friends that he really opened up to only for them to leave him when he became too much. He just couldn’t help it though; he couldn’t help the way he bounced when he got so excited he couldn’t breathe, or how he couldn’t use words when he got overwhelmed by the touch and the noise, or how he couldn’t stop talking about his favorite shows or books. He was labeled as childish. It was like a label had been stuck to his chest that read “avoid at all costs”, and people did. 

So he relearned how to be alone. He put a lava lamp next to his bed for when he needed something constant to look at, he got a collection of chewy necklaces and stim toys that never left his room. After a lot of research, he convinced his parents to buy him a weighted blanket for when every touch was too light, too agonizingly light, and he needed something firm to ground him. At school, or really around anyone, he learned to control his more obvious stimming and touch sensitivity by staying in oversized sweaters and jeans. He taught himself basic sign language for when he couldn’t talk, even though he knew his parents wouldn’t understand him. They took forever to learn basic signs, for ‘water’ or ‘quiet’ or ‘no’, and both eventually got frustrated and gave up. As if their frustration was anything compared to his. 

It was going great, not perfect but better than before, until he graduated high school. Suddenly he realized he was about to move halfway across the country, to a new environment with new triggers and new people who didn’t understand that he wasn’t frowning because he was pissed, but because smiling when you didn’t understand the reasoning was exhausting. Why do people smile and greet you when they enter the room? Why couldn’t that be more of an… understood thing? I’m here, you’re here now, we both know that, so why bring so much attention to it? For once his parents were kind enough to help him out, taking him to the campus during the summer to get acquainted with the surroundings and learn the map by heart. He talked to the admission’s counselor, explaining his disability and why that meant he couldn’t be on the side of campus near the highway, because the constant noise and common sirens would make him explode. They were eventually able to move him to one of the other buildings, one with apartments instead of dorms, even though that was generally only for third and fourth years. It took a load off his shoulders; less noise, less people. The one thing he couldn’t do was meet his roommates before the year started. 

The school got them into contact, and since he was the last to be assigned to the six person pod, they added him into their pre-established group chat. The other five already had nicknames, ranging from ‘Dad’ to ‘Rat Bastard’, and he immediately felt like an outsider. Not like that was new to him, though. Except, he didn’t stay like that. When one of the group, ‘Nerdy Mcnerd’ on the chat (he’d long forgotten their actual names), asked him what he liked and he immediately sent a list of special interests and hyperfixations, the top being snakes, it was like a door had been opened. Nerdy Mcnerd was a fan of space as well, and the two stayed up until all hours of night on their own chat discussing space and their place in the universe. Rat Bastard had an affinity for what people would categorize as “creepy animals”; octopi and squid, spiders, star-nosed moles, and most importantly, snakes. Their conversations mostly involved dopey pictures of snakes and unintelligible key smashes and emojis. Emo Disaster shared his love of darker themed TV shows, and they started a couple new ones at the same time, constantly updating each other with theories. When he mentioned his major was psychology, Dad was immediately overjoyed to be sharing the major with someone, and offered to help him study for the harder classes. He didn’t hit it off quite so well with Princey, who was put off by Janus’ so called “moodiness” and didn’t trust him. 

When they finally met, it was supposed to be great. Janus knew the environment, somewhat knew his roommates, and was surprisingly excited for the new year. His joy was suddenly vanquished, however, as meeting these people face to face took a turn for the worse. Dad, Patton, immediately tried to go for the hug when he walked into the apartment for the first time, and was slightly taken aback when Janus reared back so hard he hit his head on the wall. The glee disappeared and he apologized profusely, and that’s when Nerdy Mcnerd, Logan walked in, explaining that Patton was very physical. They were over it rather quickly, but Janus shuddered as soon as the other two turned to each other. They had already claimed one of the three rooms for themselves, so Janus chose the one furthest into the apartment. He dropped his suitcases next to one of the two beds with a deep sigh. The thought of a hug… no. It unsettled him greatly, made his skin crawl. Maybe one day, but not now. 

Emo Disaster and Princey, Virgil and Roman, arrived later in the day, hand in hand, bickering animatedly when they walked into the apartment. They were greeted with a huge hug from Patton and a side hug from Logan, and that’s when Janus recalled that they had all been roommates the year prior and again, felt a small tinge of pain. He was still the odd one out. Virgil gave a two finger salute to where Janus was sitting curled up on one of the bar stools, knees pulled to his chest and for the first time, Janus didn’t feel compelled to give a forced smile in greeting. It was a relief. The small nod was all that was needed. Roman however, was a different story. When they happened to make eye contact for the first time, the taller man still standing in the doorway, Janus flinched. Hard. The man’s eyes burned through him, as if scouring through his brain, eyes so full of passion that Janus had to look away. Eye contact was only an issue for him sometimes, but with Roman, it physically hurt. Which only made the theatre major more suspicious of him. As he passed him on the way to get a glass of water, the taller man blurted out, “You’re a first year, why are you in a third year building?”, earning him a gentle smack from Virgil. He answered with a lame shrug and rushed back to his room, conceding to just go to sleep, regretting leaving his drink on the counter. 

No one besides Janus was surprised when the door burst open at three am and a loud voice screamed, “I’M BACK, FUCKERS!” He was frozen in place, woken with such an adrenaline rush that he couldn’t move. Outside, the other four exited their rooms with varying levels of annoyance and delight, greeting the final member of the group. Remus, as Janus heard them proclaim, was his roommate, the only two dwellers not in a relationship. The gremlin burst into the room, a deranged smile on his face, and Janus wanted to cry. Why did he have to be stuck in a room with the loud one? But Remus saw the mismatched eyes poking out from under the blanket and with no hesitation, sunk to the floor next to the bed, still smiling but a million decimals softer. 

“Hey, Snakey. Sorry to scare ya. I’m Remus, but you can still call me Rat Bastard if you want. Call me whatever, I don’t really get offended. You go back to sleep, I’m gonna get settled in. We can talk in the morning.”

Janus wasn’t planning to fall asleep, not with this new person in his room, but Remus was shockingly silent as he unloaded his things (he packed a bunch of garbage bags, not even a suitcase or box), and he couldn’t help the way his eyes slipped shut. 

First semester came to a close, and he was equally delighted and horrified that everyone was staying on campus for break. It had become harder and harder for him to avoid movie nights, or family dinners (as Patton called them), or days they all went into town together. In the beginning, he put it off to being tired. Then, studying for exams. Now with school halted for nearly a month, he was out of excuses. It was getting to the point where he could feel the frustration from his roommates, and he wanted to admit how much he wanted to spend time with them, until his drawer full of secret stim toys and chewy necklaces called him back. At times, he let himself spend time with them. Baked something with Patton, talked about the stars with Logan, sat with Virgil as they studied, and it was good. He never was able to escape Roman’s cynical glares that made him absolutely shudder, but he got on much better with his twin. 

Remus never minded if Janus only greeted him with a raised eyebrow, and he was okay to have more one sided conversations while Janus drew, or after a few weeks, stared unapologetically. Because god, there was so much about Remus that Janus couldn’t help but watch, even if a normal person would get uncomfortable by his wide and unblinking eyes. Luckily, Remus was no ordinary person. But the younger still kept the drawer to himself, only allowing himself to nom on the plastic or squeeze the orbeez filled squishy snake with intense fascination when he was alone. So every time he was with the others and felt the need to stim or infodump or was about to have a stress induced meltdown, he would excuse himself and leave without so much of a goodbye. He couldn’t, not in front of them. Every time he left, he could hear Roman’s quiet remarks about him that stung more than he wanted to admit. 

He’d had so many people leave, people he allowed himself to get close to, only for them to see the side of himself he tried to hide. In his heart, he knew that part of him wasn’t bad. It was just him. Other people didn’t understand that, though. No matter how much he tried to convince himself that no one would judge him, or laugh at him because they weren’t like that, he was scared. The effort was wearing him thin, and it came to the point where he realized he had to tell them. He had to, or he would burst, and that would be way worse.

It was just three little words: I. Am. Autistic. And he’d explain everything, tell them about his stims and limits and how he needed space sometimes and hugs others, and spill everything about himself, and they’d accept him. They’d have to, right? Only, the night he was planning to blurt out the truth, something stopped him. 

They were eating dinner, one of the only ones he’d attended in a while. Patton kept glancing at him from across the table as he picked half heartedly at his lasagna, distracted from the lively conversation between the twins and Virgil. The whole thing was speckled with bite sized pieces of mushrooms and zucchini, two of the foods that he couldn’t eat to save his life. The texture made him want to recoil into himself and scream and yank at his hair, and he’d learned early in life that that wasn’t a normal response to food. He wanted to explain to Patton that it wasn’t the meal itself he was avoiding, that it wasn’t Patton’s cooking that he didn’t like, it was just the texture of those two things. 

Well, maybe that was a good gateway into his big announcement, if you could even call it that. It felt almost as scary as his coming out to his parents had been. If they didn’t take this well, he might be exiled from the group. If they tried to put up with them, they’d get irritated so quickly and slowly freeze him out. He really didn’t want that. It needed to happen though, he realized. How much worse would it be if one of them walked in on him having a meltdown, holding a pillow over his mouth to block his screams, biting almost animalistically on a necklace? How unsettled would they be if they saw him hitting his blanket pile out of repulsion of the feeling of his textbook pages? Better to warn them ahead of time. It was only luck that had gotten him this far.

Just as he opened his mouth to speak, Logan hit the table with the heel of his hand and let out an almost guttural scream before storming into his and Patton’s room, slamming the door behind him. Janus nearly fell backwards off his chair, matching Virgil’s surprised expression. Roman went silent, wincing slightly.

“What…” It was the first word he’d said the entire meal. Patton whipped his head towards him as if he’d forgotten he was there, a sudden sympathetic look on his face. He gave a weak smile.

“Sorry about that, kiddo. Logan has autism, sometimes he can’t handle the stimulus around him. Or maybe he just had a rougher day than I thought. I’ll check on him after dinner, give him some alone time.”

Logan has autism.

Logan has autism. 

Oh my god.

It was like everything clicked into place. His passionate talk about topics he was interested in that could rival Janus’ (if he would ever let himself infodump like he wanted). His mannerisms, his occasional emotional outbursts, his rigorous unbreakable schedule, it all made sense. For a brief second, Janus was elated. Someone like him, someone who understood! And if they accepted Logan, maybe they would be able to understand him, even if they presented different areas of the spectrum. 

But… how would that look? Janus had hidden away his neurodivergent traits for so long, repressed them until he felt like he would literally explode… what if they thought he was faking it? It’s not like they knew him well, not with the amount of time he avoided being around them. They might think he was lying to get attention, didn’t want to be left out. Wanted to be special.

Patton seemed to be waiting for a response, he noted. He gave a curt nod, hoping it displayed that he was unbothered by Logan’s disability, before giving a stupid excuse about some reading to finish over break and darting back to his room. Remus joined him later, saying nothing about the fact that Janus was huddled under his weighted blanket, no book in sight. He sat down in front of the bed, a common habit of his now, and began to quietly talk about some new dark fantasy story he was designing, his lilting voice soothing Janus to sleep.

Time passed, winter came and went, and the end of second semester was drawing near. Janus was still careful with the way he presented to the others. They had picked up that he didn’t like physical contact, and though they never said a word about it, Patton’s lasagna recipe shifted, kept changing, until it no longer included mushrooms and zucchini. Janus refused to believe it was for his sake, though. He tried to join them for a couple movie nights, but the constant fear of stimming made his anxiety spike, therefore finding the need to stim more compelling, until he had to leave. It was getting harder, however, now that it was that pleasant in-between time where he understood how his new profs worked but it wasn’t exam season yet. His excuses were dwindling. Like always, Roman made his stupid quips that hurt him more than was probably intended, and he’d finally had enough. 

Maybe that’s why he was staring out at the open lake in front of him, hands playing absentmindedly with the hem of his shirt as Patton and Remus squealed, sprinting into the water without a second thought. One of their shirts had landed on Janus’ sandaled foot, and he quickly kicked it off as the light touch began to irritate him. Logan stood to his side, watching his boyfriend with an almost imperceivable smile. 

“You guys could have helped carry stuff if you were just going to stand there!” Roman’s indignant voice carried over the lawn, muffled slightly by the pile of towels he was carrying. Virgil snorted, whether in agreement or at Princey’s expense, Janus didn’t know. Either way, he dumped his handful of lawn chairs unceremoniously onto the lawn at their feet. 

“You two set these up then. I’m hot, I’m going swimming.”

“Damn right, you are,” Roman grinned. Virgil raised an eyebrow.

“Damn right I’m hot, or I’m going swimming?”

“Yes.” He didn’t give any of them a second to retort, scooping up a shrieking Virgil before sprinting them both into the water. 

“They didn’t even take their shirts off,” Logan commented, picking up a chair from the pile and unfolding it. Janus quickly joined in, helping him set the four chairs into a line and placing the towels down in front of them. “Did you want to go swimming?”

Admittedly, Janus hadn’t actually gone swimming, much less to the beach, since he was a kid. He was lucky to have even found a swimsuit amongst his other barely worn clothing; how it had snuck into his suitcase, he didn’t know. The water looked inviting and it was hot, but right now he was exhausted from the long ride over in Remus’ truck, having to refrain from plugging his ear when it got too loud or maintain his breathing carefully when a leg touched his.

“Maybe in a bit. I’m kind of tired.”

Logan turned to look at him, dare he say scrutinizingly? He washed the expression away quickly, asking, “Would you like me to stay with you?”

“No, it’s okay,” Janus mumbled, “You go have fun. I’ll be fine, I like the quiet.” As if to punctuate his point, a child screamed from the playground, making them both flinch.

“Are you positive?”

“Yes. Go enjoy yourself, Logan.”

He nodded curtly, pulling his shirt over his head in one fluent motion and walking towards the waves professionally, as if he were walking towards a lecture. Patton cheered from the water.

Janus didn’t concern himself with the time as it passed, instead letting his mind wander while he focused on a line of ants that were crawling up a tree next to him. It wasn’t until a fast approaching form caught his attention did he tear his eyes away, hearing him give a shout of “Be right back!”.

Remus plopped himself onto the towel next to him, still panting from the run, but grinning from ear to ear. As he ripped open a water bottle and drank greedily, Janus couldn’t help but stare. Water glistened on his skin like jewels in the afternoon sun, plastering his hair down over his jaw and eyes. His eyelashes were barely fluttering against his cheekbones as he guzzled nearly half of the bottle, his adam’s apple bobbing with each swallow. The jut of his shoulder, almost touching his throat, taking his weight as he leaned back on his arm… the whole thing was fascinating. People interested Janus as a whole; the way they functioned, how they seamlessly picked up on little cues from others that Janus was still in the process of figuring out, even down to intricate biology of cells was incredibly captivating. But Remus was so much more than that. His voice when he spoke him to sleep, never mentioning it the next day, the way his dark eyes glimmered with hope when Janus agreed to eat with them, the twitch of his moustache as he covered a laugh at Patton’s corny jokes. 

He was art, plain and simple. 

Janus didn’t know if what he felt was romantic attraction. It sure felt like it, except it had never felt quite like this before. It wasn’t that he was asexual or anything, he was actually decently far from it. It was just how uncomfortable most physical contact made him that gave him the idea he might never have a partner in the way that he wanted. He wanted to hold hands, to cuddle, to kiss… but at the same time, he didn’t. That is, he didn’t know how he’d handle it. Sure, he’d had crushes in the past, cute boys from his classes or celebrities in the shows he hyperfixated on, and still the feeling of uncertainty had stayed. With Remus, something was different though. Never before had a crush ever felt so breath stealing, chest clenching, awe inspiring-

“Like what you see?” 

Janus flinched, realizing Remus had finished drinking and was beaming at him with that stupid gorgeous gleam in his eyes. He looked at his lap immediately, feeling his face heat up. 

“Sorry.” 

“Not a problem,” Remus smirked, having the audacity to wink at him before standing up. “I’m going back in. Coming?” He reached out his hand, hopeful. Janus took a breath, acknowledging that this was his first time initiating contact since he’d arrived, and grabbed Remus’ hand. The surprise on the other’s face was almost enough to make him laugh. He pulled the younger to his feet, keeping a firm hold in Janus’ hand. And… that was okay. 

Until it wasn’t. 

The second his feet touched the sand, it was like alarm bells exploded behind his eyes. He couldn’t describe it, but it felt wrong. It gave in too much, light sprinkles of sand covered the top of his feet and instantly every nerve was on high alert. He ripped his hand from Remus’, stumbling backwards onto the grass again. The elder spun to him with concern.

“Snakey? What happened?”

“I- hmm, no. I can’t. Nope. No no no. Wrong. It… hmmmm. Can’t.” The last word dragged out as his brain seemed to disconnect from his mouth. His mind didn’t work, so focused on how every blade of grass was swiping along his soles too softly, too gentle, too much. His hands had curled into fists and he was fighting against everything inside him to scream bloody murder, because oh god the wind was brushing the hair onto the back of his neck and it tickled and make it stop make it stop!

Janus could vaguely hear someone shout, and the loudness floored him. Get away, get away, it’s too much it’s too much. The feeling of the grass was gone, and he was sitting on his beach towel, but the wind was still brushing his hair too much, so he grabbed at it uselessly, begging it to stop, stop, stop. 

“What’s happening?” Roman.

“Is he okay?” Patton.

“Does he look okay?” Virgil.

“Janus, breathe. You’re safe.” Logan.

 Yeah, he knew that. He knew, objectively, that the wind isn’t out to get him and grass doesn’t hurt and sand isn’t supposed to fry your nerves. That didn’t change the fact that it did for him. Somewhere in the back of his mind, it connected that they were seeing him have a meltdown, finally. But he couldn’t focus on that, not when someone was touching his arm why are they touching my arm LET GO! 

He screamed now, he couldn’t hold it back anymore. His breaths were ragged and gaspy, hands ripping at his hair to try and stop the fluttering strands. Then there was a new sound, an engine, a boat, and with it came the deep bass of some terrible music and there were people shouting and his head was hurting, why was it hurting so bad?! New hands grabbed his wrists and he writhed, pulling back from the grip that was pulling his fists away from where they’d been hitting his skull, over and over, trying to just get his stupid brain to work. Come back to the present, ground yourself, do SOMETHING!

And then something was in his hands. 

His eyes peeled open (when had he shut them?) and he saw the dark blue stress ball, almost crushed between his fingers. The hands were gone from his wrist, and he took a deep breath, relaxing his hand and watching the slime filled toy slowly return to its natural shape. It was just like one from his drawer, the first stim toy he’d ever gotten. Familiarity. He kneaded it under his fingers, enjoying the comforting texture, the color soothing to his sensitive eyes. Bit by bit he felt himself relax, still holding the toy inches from his face between stiff hands, letting his legs unfurl. Without thinking, he raised a shaking hand to his chin and did the sign for ‘water’, and immediately regretted it. It was just such a habit around his parents, the only other people who had seen him break down to this extent, how could he be so-

He flinched as a water bottle was pressed into his raised hand, the lid already taken off. The water was so good, settling his senses and grounding him, like he’d been in hyperfocus before and it was dulled now. He gave the stress ball another squeeze, captivated by the way the slime moved, not even flinching as someone snapped in front of him.

Looking up for the first time, his first instinct was to crawl into a hole and die. Logan was sitting in front of him, slowly putting the cap back on his water bottle before handing it back to Patton, who was standing just behind him. Roman and Virgil had begun packing the chairs and bags agonizingly slowly and quietly. Impressive; they were almost done and he hadn’t noticed until now. He turned to his left and his heart completely shattered. Remus was sitting statue still, a few feet away, with a look of pure fear in his eyes. He sat on the edge of his knees, like he wanted to pounce forward and hug him but was holding himself back. He appreciated that. 

Logan snapped again and Janus turned back.

‘Better?’ He signed slowly. 

��You know sign?’ Janus responded weakly, confused. 

‘Patton too. I go nonverbal as well. Are you okay?’

The younger nodded, returning his hands to the stim toy on his lap. ‘Yours?’

‘Yes.’

“Is he okay?” Remus whispered suddenly, drawing their attention. He looked so scared, like anything could break Janus and he was scared he would cause it. Oh. Did he think he caused this?

‘Not his fault.’

Logan looked between the two, a look of confusion settling in his face. “What?”

‘Not. His. Fault.’ He signed sharply, a frustrated hum emitting from the back of his throat. ‘Not his fault!’

“Remus, he’s saying it’s not your fault. What does that mean?”

“I- I took his hand, and then this happened…” Remus started, leaning back onto his feet ashamedly, “If that wasn’t the cause, what was?” 

‘Sand.’

Logan’s eyes filled with understanding, and he responded, ‘Sand?’ as if to double check that he got the right sign. Janus nodded again, slightly thankful for the mute state he was in. He wouldn’t be able to explain this as well as Logan would. 

“If I’m understanding right, then my first assumptions were correct. Janus, did you just experience a sensory overload?”

Janus could only nod, meeting his eyes shakily. This is the moment. Now is his segway. If Logan wasn’t already suspicious, he surely was now. And he’d rather not have to explain, or come up with some half assed excuse if he was confronted later on why sinking his foot into sand had made him break. 

 ‘I’m autistic.’ He fingerspelled it, not knowing what the sign was, or if there even was one. There was a beat of silence, the twins and Virgil exchanging puzzled looks, and Janus couldn’t even bear to look at the two people who would have understood. All his fears came rushing back. Would they think he was lying, or seeking attention, or or or-

“Oh, sweetie,” Patton crooned, sitting cross legged beside Logan, “We thought maybe… well, the possibility came up in conversation before. Lo was the one who brought it up.”

“Yes. Though our experiences differ, you seemed to exhibit symptoms that are common to the ASD spectrum. I thought it feasible, but did not wish to offend or frighten you by mentioning it.”

“We thought that if you were autistic, it would be yours to tell us,” Patton smiled softly. 

“Wait,” Remus interrupted, “Janus, you have autism?”

Janus’ nervous glance up must have been enough to clue the rest of the group in, because Roman sighed and ducked his head into Virgil’s shoulder while Logan messily signed something which roughly translated to ‘how dense can someone be’. Jan couldn’t tell if it was a joke or not, but he cracked a smile anyways.

“Shit. Dude, I’m so sorry,” Roman murmured into Virgil’s shirt, “All the times I made fun of you for not joining us or anything, that was way out of line. I truly apologize.”

The youngest gave him the worldwide gesture for ‘it’s okay’; not exactly ASL, but it got his point across. Everything was packed up now, and Janus realized the implications.

‘Home?’ He asked Logan, eyebrows scrunched together.

‘Yes. You need to rest.’ He was right, he was exhausted. Getting to his feet along with Patton and Logan, he reached down to grab his towel, only for it to be promptly swooped up by Roman.

“I… I got it. Don’t worry about it. Okay?”

As soon as Roman turned his back, Janus couldn’t help his heavy sigh. This was another reason he had refrained from telling anyone. He didn’t want to be seen as a burden, or worse, a child. He didn’t need help with menial tasks like grabbing a towel. Virgil and him lifted all the belongings again, with less complaining this time, and began the short trek to the truck.

‘He’s not babying you,’ Logan signed, as if reading his mind, ‘He’s just guilty. If you want my advice, get as much out of it as you can.’

“Logan!” Patton chastised, failing miserably at hiding a smirk.                            

“Guys?” Remus’ uncharacteristically timid voice prompted them to turn back, “Could I talk to Janus for a sec?”

“You understand he is unable to speak at the moment, correct?” Logan raised an eyebrow, probably coming off more harsh than he meant to. 

“I know. Just… please?”

The other two shared a knowing look that Janus didn’t understand, before Logan turned to Janus. “Is that okay?”

The youngest nodded, watching over his shoulder as the lovebirds joined hands, leaving him and Remus alone. When he met his eyes again, he was standing much closer, eyes searching nervously.

“Maybe this will actually be easier since you can’t talk,” he laughed, before his face fell dramatically, “Fuck, that’s not what I meant. I’m such an idiot, I didn’t mean-”

Janus held up a hand quickly, as if to say ‘it’s fine, settle down’, holding back a snicker. He’d understand if someone was upset by the comment, but he’d learn to take Remus’ jokes lightly. He never meant to actually offend, sometimes he just… blurted without intending to. He rolled his finger in a ‘keep going’ motion.

“Shit. Okay,” He’d never seen Remus blush, or stumble over his words before. Not like this, at least, “Now, don’t feel obligated to say you feel the same or anything, okay? This is just, my feelings, and mine alone,” A deep breath, “I like you, Snakey. I like you a lot. More than… more than a friend.”

Oh.

Oh.

Janus was ninety percent sure he died right then and there. But Remus kept going, tripping over his words in a way that was so unlike him, and yet so perfect.

“I have for a while. I never said anything because I thought, maybe you disliked me? After today though, I think… well, maybe I was misinterpreting those signals. Like I misinterpreted today. That you didn’t want to be around me, no matter how hard I tried.”

Okay, Janus took it back. He wanted to be able to talk now, but his voice came out as another low hum, and he slapped his hand over his mouth, embarrassed. Remus pressed on, unfazed. 

“Snakey, I swear to you, that you having autism doesn’t change those feelings at all. It’s not a bad thing, or a flaw, it’s just you. And everything about you is amazing, and perfect, and this is just another thing I get to learn about you. Any fears you had around telling us, telling me, you don’t need to have them.”

He’d never felt this kind of feeling before. In that second, he knew for a fact that this wasn’t a crush that he had on Remus. That wasn’t possible, because a crush had never made him want to break his social barriers like this. A crush had never made him want to make an exception, to stand on his tip toes and kiss him, even if the thought of a new touch usually caused goosebumps to rise on his arms. Because he felt so safe, so blissfully numb, so comfortable with Remus, that he’d be willing to give it a try.

This wasn’t a crush. This was-

“I love you,” Remus whispered, his statement accompanied by a large shaky breath.

He couldn’t say it back, not right now. Later, he would. For sure. Maybe a hundred times. So he did what he’d never thought possible and took that step forward, breaking his bubble that he’d always thought to be unbreakable. 

It’s okay. You’re okay. This is okay. 

For once, he actually believed it.

Janus reached a hand up, slowly, and rested it on Remus’ face. It wasn’t light, he couldn’t do half touches. It was solid, warm, real. Not a tickling touch that made him twitch, or a brush by that stole the very breath from his lungs. The positive response affirmed his will power, and he leaned up onto his tip toes. Remus looked absolutely stunned, but he didn’t pull away, he couldn’t if he tried. His breath caught in his throat as the elder glanced down, an unmistakable look to his lips.

Had Remus always had those green flecks in his eyes?

And he kissed him. Janus surged forward, pressing their lips together harsher than he’s intended, pulling a small gasp out of Remus. There was a whoop from the vague direction of where they’d parked, followed by a loud smack, and Janus couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips.

Remus’ hands were clasped at his chest, unmoving, probably afraid that if he touched Janus wrong, this would all be over. He’d have to explain half touches later. For now, he took one of his hands in his free one and guided it around, pushing it into the small of his back until Remus got the message to keep that pressure. He let out a small sigh through his nose, an action that sent a new round of butterflies exploding in the younger’s stomach.

This is okay. 

This is all going to be okay.

[gentlemen-of-lies]

Gentlemen of Lies, chapter 2

(Carvour)ting around London with a British bastard and some classified files.

(Next chapter) (Chapter 1)

————

Curt stayed up until late, studying the files he’d been given. He’d luckily escaped another power cut, and his bedside lamp stayed firmly on, flickering in desperation for a new bulb.

There were only four suspects to memorise, three men and a woman. There was little evidence against them; in fact the most damning evidence was against one of the men- Andrew Hayes- who spoke three languages: English, German and Russian. Two of those languages were very much unfavourable in this social climate, although very useful for being a spy of course.

By midnight, Curt was starting to fall asleep. He knew he had to study the files but God... they were so boring.

He soon decided he’d studied them enough; even if he didn’t know every piece of information, too late a night would do him no favours in the morning.

His watch beeped at five am the following day, and for once he didn’t sleep through it. ‘Okay, Mega,’ he thought to himself. ‘Time to get your act together. Show that Carvour bastard he’s not the only one who can do his job.’ Curt sat up in bed, the cogs in his head turning as he worked out a brief schedule. He had to get dressed first of all; whether Owen really was going to lend him some clothes, he didn’t know. But at the moment, he still only had his three day old outfit, which was hanging over the back of the chair, in an attempt at getting aired, despite the air in the room being as damp as the outside weather.

He needed a shower, that was essential. Just some running water to get himself clean and shave off the itchy stubble on his chin... he sighed. Was he really going to have to ask that woman down the hall? He supposed it was worth a shot. If worst came to worse, he’d just have to ask Bill for a solution, although the less he interacted with him the better.

He got himself dressed, shaking his clothes to try and rid them of creases. His hair was patted down and he chewed around three mints at once, crunching them into dust. He looked at himself in the cracked mirror.

‘Not bad, Mega.’ Hopefully in the short walk from his room to the woman’s he’d magically gain the skill of flirting, and win her over into letting him use her bathroom.

Amazingly, he did convince her, ten minutes after leaving his room. But only because his flirting was so desperate and pathetic sounding that she had no choice but to take pity.

“It’s surely a mark of how needy you are that I’m even letting a strange man into my room,” the woman said.

“Cut me some slack,” replied Curt, making a beeline for her bathroom and shutting the door behind him. “All I’ve heard since I’ve been here are remarks of how much of a mess I am,” he continued through the locked, wooden door. “Maybe if your country had better facilities.”

“Maybe if your country didn’t produce such weak men.”

“Huh. Feisty. I like that in a woman.” The woman didn’t reply, but Curt was hardly that invested in the conversation anyway. What mattered right now was finally- he had a shower. And holy, did it feel fantastic! If it was up to him, he’d spend all day in there. But he didn’t have time. It was edging on six now, and while it was still a good four hours until he had to meet Owen, he still had plenty to do. Besides, there was certainly no harm in getting there early, before Owen. In fact, he decided he was going to do just that. Make Owen the one running late. Who was incompetent now?

Curt accidentally nicked his chin a few times while shaving, but he brushed the droplets of blood away with his fingers and splashed his face with the rusty water from the tap. By the time he reopened the bathroom door, he was feeling like a new man.

The woman was still there, writing at her own table, which looked much less rotten that Curt’s.

“Thanks for letting me use your bathroom, Mrs...?”

“Miss. Miss Dorothy Lowe.”

“Well, Miss Lowe. I appreciate the hospitality.” Dorothy didn’t bother to respond, so Curt- as awkwardly as always whenever he had to try and act smooth around a woman- showed himself out. It was quarter to seven. All he had to do was grab the files and find the station. How hard could that be?

————

“It’s not far from here,” Owen had said. “Here’s a map,” Owen had said. The map was bullshit, it was in black and white and Curt could barely read it. The streets were as disorientating as always, and Curt was almost knocked down by a bus trying to cross the street at the same time as studying the stupid map.

He gave up, and decided to ask passers by.

“Go all the way up the street, turn left, right again and it’ll be there,” said the first person he came across, a man wearing a trench coat and sporting the biggest moustache Curt had ever seen.

“Thanks.” Curt followed the instructions given, but it soon became clear that moustache man had no clue what he was on about. And Curt had to ask two more people before he finally spotted the red and blue circle of the underground.

9:30. Had he really been wandering around London for an hour and a half? An hour if he discounted the sandwich he’d picked up from a local café, which he did. And either way, he was still early.

Beat that, Owen.

At ten o’clock on the dot, Owen showed up, once again wearing his brown cap pulled over his eyes. Typical, he wasn’t even late.

“Good morning, Mega,” he greeted. “I see you’ve shaved at least.”

“Shaved, showered and ready to go.” Was that line as bad as it had sounded? Owen ignored it altogether.

“I hope you didn’t arrive too early. Don’t want you hanging around looking suspicious.”

“Uh... no. No I arrived five minutes ago,” Curt lied. He was beginning to think that Owen could see right through him, and the feeling was unsettling to say the least. He barely even knew the man, and nor did he particularly like him.

“Good. We’ll get a move on then.” Owen crossed the street, Curt following closely behind. “You read the files then?”

“Yeah,” replied Curt. “And none of them seem much like suspects except the guy who speaks Russian.”

“Well if there was too much evidence against them they would have been fired by now.”

“Sure, but why them and not everyone else as well. Why were they singled out?”

“Favouritism? Who knows.” Curt didn’t know if he was going to get anywhere with this case.

“What am I even doing here?” Curt asked, finally voicing the question that had been on his mind ever since he’d arrived. “Can’t MI6 sort this out themselves? It’s just a mole, and I don’t know anyone who works there.”

“My best guess would be experience. How long have you been in the field?”

“Less than two years, and even then I mainly just sit at a desk reading through files.”

“Hm. Experience then. I got a lot of unnecessary cases myself. Was sent off to Belarus in my first year because of a suspected assignation plot.”

“That’s quite big.”

“Oh hardly, both the assassin and the assassinated were civilians, and it had nothing to do with the war either. Simple case of a murder charge and jail time. All I got out of it was an improvement on my Russian accent.”

“How long have you been in the field?”

“Going on four years now. Joined when I was twenty.

“So did I.”

“Then perhaps we have more in common than I thought.” Curt took that as a rare compliment. “Now then, I have a flat in Nevern Square. As you can tell by the name, there is a square in the middle. We can talk there. It’s usually empty at this time of day.”

“You sure it’s not too open?”

“It’s surrounded by a gate and only residents have the key. It’s private enough.”

So they made the short walk to Nevern Square, truly a square surrounded by tall, thin flats. The garden itself was fairly bare, much more so than the other gardens that Curt had walked past during his vague exploration of Earl’s Court when he first arrived, which wasn’t so much an exploration as a hunt for somewhere to sleep.

Owen took out a small key and opened one of the locked gates with it. The gate squeaked as it opened, the rusty iron bars dragging along the floor. Owen closed it behind him.

They went to sit on the nearest bench. Curt scanned the park. It really was empty, which wasn’t surprising. Even if everyone wasn’t at work, there was hardly anything to do in here. You could barely walk a dog since its parameter was so small.

“So out of all the suspects,” Owen began, launching back onto the case. “Did any of them stand out to you?”

“Yeah, actually. What about you?” Owen hesitated, an unfamiliar reaction of his.

“To be honest, no. I haven’t found any evidence worth checking out.” Curt raised his eyebrows in suppressed excitement. Did he finally know something that the great Owen Carvour didn’t? Owen paid no attention to his clear look of arrogance.

“I’m surprised,” said Curt, his voice almost gloating.

“Why, what did you find? You’re not going to mention the Russian-speaker again are you? Half the people in MI6 speak Russian. You can’t be a spy if you only know one language.”

“No not him. I’m talking about that other guy, light hair...” Curt took a second to recall the name. “John Lawson.” Something crossed Owen’s face for a split second, not long enough for Curt to properly catch.

“It’s not him,” replied Owen, with a strangely firm voice.

“Well, how do you know?”

“I just do.”

“But he has a history of working with explosives.”

“So? We’re looking for a Russian spy, not someone who blows things up.”

“No we’re looking for a bad guy, and that’s what bad guys do. Blow shit up.”

“Do you realise how childish you sound? Bad guys and good guys. This is the real world, Mega, not a comic book. It’s not Lawson. Move on.”

“Jeez, why are you getting so defensive?” Owen just rolled his eyes, and wouldn’t reply.

“I’ll take you to Bletchley Park. That’s where Andrew Hayes works. Languages aside, I never trusted him myself. Can’t put my finger on why, though. We can follow him, spy on him, and you...” he turned to Curt. “Can make friends with him.”

“Me?” Owen nodded.

“Of course, he doesn’t know who you are. Although I suggest using your real accent. Your British one could really use some work.”

“I thought I sounded alright.”

“You sound like someone mimicking a film star. Just tell him you have family here or something, no links whatsoever to any secret service. Get him to open up. Also...” Owen handed Curt a brown duffel bag that he’d been carrying around the entire time. “Change of clothes. You can give them back to me when you leave.” Curt assumed he meant leave the country, but he could never really tell with Owen. Nevertheless, he took the bag, with a stiff thank you, setting it down beside his feet.

“Wear them tomorrow when you’re trailing Hayes. You want him to think you’re a well-groomed, strapping American. Not a hard-done-by yank, lost in a foreign country.”

“Fine.” Curt ignored the thinly veiled insult, focused as he was on the case itself. He still suspected Lawson, but clearly he was getting nowhere on that lead with Owen around. But perhaps he didn’t need to.

Andrew Hayes wasn’t the only one who worked at Bletchley.

[sapphic-squid]

New directions at an amusement park!

Pie thanks you’re the best, also you mentioned someone being scared of roller coasters so I went with that

“Dude, man up,” Mike slaps Puck’s shoulder, “Don’t be so hard on the guy.”

“Not you too, why are you guys all wusses.” Everyone glared at Puck. The glee club had taken an impromptu trip to the nearest amusement park as a distraction from Nationals coming up soon. Soon after arriving, Finn had shyly admitted to being scared of rollercoasters.

Blaine tried to ease the tension, “You know we could just split up and do different things?” Mike and Sam were shyly nodding and agreeing with him. Puck eventually caught on, “YOU’RE ALL SCARED TOO! What’s even the point if you don’t go on a rollercoaster. I want to feel like heart is out of my chest by the end of the day.”

“You will be if you eat the funnel cake, I don’t trust it”

“You’re a cheesecake snob, you love unhealthy things,” Kurt shushed his boyfriend trying to change the topic, “SO! Are we splitting up?”

Puck signed, “Fine everyone who DOESN’T want to ride a rollercoaster raise your hand,” all the guys raised their hands and Puck let out an exasperated groan, “Fine I’ll just go with the girls and show them what a real man looks like,” he said flexing.

“No one wants to see your guns Puckerman,” Santana glared at him.

The New Directions split up into two groups planning to meet for lunch and back at the entrance at 3pm to leave, The Girls + 1, and The Losers (named by Puck). The Girls + 1 quickly grabbed a map and started tracing out a plan to hit the most roller coasters by 3. While The Losers headed towards the games to find things to do.

“Sam, you can’t stop at every game, Burt only gave Kurt and I $50 to share. And I am not paying for you once you spend all your money trying to win Mercedes a stupid bear.” Finn admired the ring pop he had already won Rachel at a whack-a-mole game.

“But it’s romantic!”

“She’s not gonna be happy with you if you can’t buy lunch because you spent all your money losing at games.”

“Just cause you won on the first try doesn’t give you permission to dis another man’s abilities,” Kurt, Blaine, and Mike watched from the side as the two bickered.

They all finally agreed on somewhere to eat for lunch. The Losers got there first sitting down with their food. Tina and Mercedes walked ahead to join their boyfriends at the table while the rest of the girls took their time. Once they had all sat down and started talking, Sam noticed something was off, “Where’s Puck?”

“Oh, he went on one roller coaster and refused to go on anymore. He’s been walking from trashcan to trashcan trying not to throw up,” Mercedes said, taking a bite of their shared sandwich. Just then Puck came into view. He sat down at the table with a salad.

“Woah, I don’t think i’ve ever seen you eat a vegetable before.”

“Watch it Hummel. Have to go light on the stomach after riding insane roller coasters all morning. You know i’m kinda tired of them by now, I might join you guys walking around.”

Everyone was glancing around the table trying to hold in their laughter. “What! Why is everyone acting so weird. If I wanted to sit a silent table of weirdos I would go visit my grandma at the old folks home.”

“We know you only lasted one ride,” Mike gave in.

Puck looked around desperate, “WHAT NO! I WENT ON ALL THE RIDES!”

“Sure you did, you barely made it through the first one without screaming like a little girl,” Mercedes looked at him

“Did not!”

“Did too!”

“Fine whatever, I don’t like rollercoasters. OKAY! EVERYONE HAPPY NOW!” Puck turned away from the table sulking.

After a little more teasing, Puck reluctantly joined The Guys (couldn’t be called The Losers anymore after he joined) for the rest of the day. Sam finally won Mercedes a stuffed penguin on the last game before they all had to leave. On the ride Puck passed out cold and Kurt and Blain drew mustaches on his face.

[spookizfanblog]

Spookiz Multiverse Theory

Some people noticed that Spookiz the Movie had some differences from the series. Though, I’ve never seen all of them mentioned anywhere so I decided to write them down. I didn't take into consideration the Spookiz Cookie, music videos and commercials since they don't actually take place anywhere at all. It's pretty understandable why Cula has a phone in Spook it Up! but doesn't know what a cellphone is in the movie. So my points for Spookiz Multiverse Theory are the following.

1. The Roles

I think, everyone noticed that in the movie Cula and Kong Kong are not so naughty and mischievous as in the series. Kebi, on the other hand, seems more prankish and a little bit more aggressive than his show counterpart. Ofc, Cula as a protagonist cannot do pranks and gloat over other kids anymore, and Kong Kong as his sidekick cannot do the same. Also all Spookiz need to look weaker comparing to the hunter so we could sense the danger of the situation better. Thus, a role of a trickster is left only for Kebi.

2. Cula as a Student

Cula seems to be a good student in the movie while in the series he is constantly distracted or asleep in class and, as a result, he fails tests completely. I actually would have expected Cula’s academic performance to deteriorate in the movie after having ruined his sleep patterns for several weeks to meet with Hana. Though, It is possible that he learnt a thing or two that helped him with his classes. Either way, he is a nerd in the movie.

3. Cula’s OCD

Even before the series hit YouTube, Cula's Facebook official bio indicated that he had OCD. OCD is the uncontrollable, irrational actions that people take to get rid of anxious thoughts that do not correspond with reality. In the movie, Cula claims that he simply can't stand mess. However, we could see him panicking when Sam was getting his desk dirty, and how he simply couldn't resist cleaning it in the middle of the day, risking his health and getting caught by a human. Also, Cula never changed his sit in the movie and didn't care about other desks in the class being dirty, which means he needs to take a particular seat and always keep it clean to get rid of certain anxious notion and feel safe again. In the series Cula constantly changes seats and although he is squeamish, he doesn't seem to take such repetitive irrational actions. Not to mention times when Cula didn't care about the mess or forgot to wear his gloves.

4. Character Design

Some characters got new design elements. In the movie Kebi has shaggy hair and Kong Kong has a darker palette. Reaper Sam got a black fog as if he was from the sims. Also I thought that I found an interesting difference that in the movie the school security guard didn't have the mole on his cheek that (I thought) he had in the series. Unfortunately, it turned out that he had the mole only in Halloween special which is a shame bc I think it was a nice design detail. Still his eye colour was charged for the movie from amber to black (which is also kinda sad to me).

5. The School

In the movie the entire school looks different and that's okay, it is supposed be more realistic and detailed than in the series. Its structure seems more complex than in the show, it has some sort of H or more likely _T_ shape: two buildings are connected through the walkway on the second floor. Here Cula and Kong Kong got new spots to live. Instead of being neighbors on one of the floors, Kong Kong lives in a box in the attic/the part of the main building where the clocks are, and Cula's locker is on the ground floor (I believe) in a smaller building. The classroom the Spookiz study in is on the third floor of the main big building which is actually far from Cula's spot.

The classroom interior is also entirely different but I would like to point out two major things. The first thing is that in the movie they had single desks while in the series there were double ones. They needed Hana to be the only human kid involved in the story, which would probably be difficult if she had a deskmate. The second thing is that there are two different world maps in the classroom. In the movie there's a European (?) world map with Europe being closer to the centre of the map. In the series there's a Chinese (?) world map with China being closer to the centre and Americas being on the right side of the map.

6. Accessories.

Cula has at least two accessories that got a new design. The first one is his bag. In the series he and some other of the Spookiz have purple nylon (?) schoolbags. In the movie Spookiz's bags are brown and made of leather or imitation leather. Another thing is that Cula has red earphones with the symbol λ as a logo on them. In the movie Cula has the same earphones except there's a bat silhouette as a logo.

7. Timeline Mismatch

Some people assume that the movie takes place somewhere in or after the season 2 since Cula has a photo with the moon that he got in the ep. 7 of the season 2. First of all, what was the necessity for the creators to change the other two photos? Could it be another hint that what we see in the movie is similar to the show but not entirely the same? Second of all, in the end of the movie Cula has learnt to appreciate his friends but in the season 2 he didn't even take the first steps on this path. He got major character improvement in season 3 but by that time Kebi had already grown strong feelings for Zizi, and I don't think he would fight her for a candy as he did in the movie. It means that either the series should be in a different chronological order (and some of them really should) or the movie has its own timeline independent of the show.

8. Age Difference

OMG this one is so obvious I forgot to mention it, lol! But I think by now everyone know that Spookiz are 9-10 y.o. in the series. I'm pretty sure I saw information that Cula was 11 but i can't remember where i saw it. Anyway, in the movie Cula states that he is 109 y.o. and this is a strong proof that the movie is another universe different from the series.

Thus, there are lots of differences between the series and the movie. Some of them can be explained by the difference in genre and by a new plot. But most of them are details that weren't necessary unless the creators wanted to make a new universe on purpose. A universe where Cula is not an irritable and mischievous gloater but a slightly anxious nerd. Still narcissistic as always.

[fordanoia]

One of a Kind

Fandom: Gravity Falls || CW: - || Paranoid!Ford era trying to think of places to hide his journals (one shot)

______(~1.4k words)______

He just had to stay calm. The gradual pounding of his head made that hard though.  The catastrophe of a mess around him made it hard.  The monument of his stupidity — sitting like an anchor dozens of feet underneath the wooden planks and dirt and stone — made it hard. 

Mostly the pounding headache was the problem though. 

Every time he tried to gather his thoughts another throb would scatter them. Which was just wasting his time — time that he didn't damn well have.

He grumbled bitter nothings as he pushed the lukewarm mug of black coffee further away so straighten the map on the desk in front of him. He’d been at this for- well however long it took him to get through a little over four cups of coffee. He had to find a place to hide his journals, but where? He couldn’t just bury them all in the ground somewhere. They had to be in different kinds of hiding spots. If he just buried them all then mole people would wind up with an interdimensional portal breaking open a hellish dimension. Then if he hid them in ugly, disused dressers then it would be a guild of antique collectors, but the same scenario. Regardless of how interesting the beings were that found the journal, or how boring, it was still terribly dangerous.

Ford belatedly realized his body was drooping practically to the desk and jerked back to sit up straight again. Quickly pushed his tired limbs up to stand and walked around in ambling directions.

These had to be secure, they had to be safe. Gravity Falls was neither secure nor safe though.

He could bury one. Stash another in... the machine of- a box only opened by some hidden machinery. He could do that by the bunker.

The third journal. Where was he going to hide the third journal? The... The best place would be anywhere far away from here. That wasn't exactly an option right now though! Snow season was quickly approaching and he had a limited amount of time to get back to the caves before the hike would be too dangerous for him. Anywhere he went, it would take too long for him to get there and back in time. Not even accounting to actually hiding the damn tome. 

If he could find Fiddleford, he'd be able to ask him to take it with him on his way to Palo Alto. Like he wasn't already long gone that way, by now.

Ford swung around to grab the mug from the desk and take a large drink from the bitter and burnt coffee forcing himself to pull his mind back from the line of thought and think.

"Or he's here, which is worse." He rambled aloud, walking back around in unclear circles and lines with the mug in his hands.

Worse because if Fiddleford was still here then he was running around with a memory ray and some enabling cronies to help him blast away memories left and right! His, theirs, Ford's — anyone and everyone, who cared!

"It's not like it's harmful!" Ford ranted, mockingly. "No, there's not like there were obvious flaws in the design that were pointed out! Obvious flaws in the damn concept itself!!" He gritted his teeth, momentarily, before whipping his hands out. "If you're-!"

A loud crash of glass — of breaking, of intruding, of death and assault and assail (but mostly death!) cracked off his sentence and the air. 

Ford snatched the first thing in reach, a large chunk of crystallized rock from a Geodite's shedding, and reared it back to swing!

When he swung, the crystal glided through the air — not a problem, it could surprise them. The best surprise was always a zero hesitating- a dehesitating- an aggressive and quick offense!

He looked for a figure to swing at or react to as quickly as possible before it could get a jump on him! The room was a blur of colored shapes that he focused to snap together, only to still see nobody.

Ford breathed out hard, to look for the intruder. The invisible- had Bill enlisted the Invisible Wizard? Or the Hide Behind!

He backed up against a bookcase so the damn thing couldn’t sneak up on him, spotting for signs of its path. "Come eat crystal, you ugly ax-stealing-!" His mind buzzed in red at him.

It took a moment for his actual thoughts to catch up with what he'd subconsciously already figured out. There was no window in this room. There was no entrance here. The crash hadn't been a broken window or other entryway, all of which were reinforced with some wooden boards anyhow.

His eyes scanned the ground to quickly find the source of the crash. A broken mug, coffee dripping from its shards on the floor and splattered across half the wall below a small nick in the wall paper. 

“Oh.”

Ford sighed, letting his arms drop back down to hang in front of him, and feeling a little stupid. Thankfully, he was too tired to feel more than a little of any emotion though, which had its perk right about now.

He set the crystallized rock back onto its shelf before leaning down to inspect the damage, namely to figure out which mug he’d broken. (What a silly thing to worry about right now.)

This had to be the fourth mug this- week? He kept losing track of where the damn things were at and wound up breaking them, though usually by knocking them over not haphazardly throwing them without realizing it. Luckily he had a surplus of mugs. However, at his current rate he wouldn't for long. Too late to invest in making a shatter-proof mug now though.

He gingerly placed the largest pieces of the pastel purple ceramic into his hand, able to get a chunk that had the letters "Thir" on it. He stared at the piece.

Thiram? ...Thiuram- Thi...

Then it clicked.

"Ah. 'Flirty Thirty.' Right..." He squeezed at the bridge of his nose with his free hand in annoyance.

The image of the tacky mug in his memory was not a particularly pleasant one. Hot pink text on top of a soft purple background on a fairly standard mug shape, except for the unreasonably uncomfortable shape of the handle meant to mimic the number ‘30’ on it.

Definitely not his biggest loss.

He resumed carefully picking up the shards from the floor to clean up the mess.

Ford didn't even remember getting this mug. It was so obnoxious he couldn't imagine why he'd held onto it, much less willingly got it in the-... first place...

The dawning realization made his fingers slow and something heavy settle. This wasn't his mug. It had been Fiddleford’s. 

Fiddleford had left it to have at least one mug for himself here that he could use. (As though there wasn't already a whole shelf of mugs to use). Ford was half sure Fiddleford had just done it for the fun of Ford's face whenever Ford would look over at him and see the ridiculous mug, yet again remembering that it existed and, furthermore, was inside his lab sitting alongside the most important research of his life. History books did not show drawings of Katherine Johnson working on equations with a pair of sunglasses shaped like smiling, planets in orbit (that were also wearing sunglasses) or Isaac Newton underneath an apple tree, wearing a shirt saying ‘I discovered Gravity and all I got was this lousy t-shirt!’

Of course, Ford hadn't known the truth then about the portal and it’s not something he wanted in the history books anymore... but this had still been a damn, tacky mug. That much was still true.

And now it just looked like some broken mug, and you couldn't tell how awkward the handle was anymore or known it'd squish your hand if you tried to hold it like mugs are supposed to be held — or how ridiculous the hot pink looked with all the little orange designs around it. Now it was just... pieces scattered on the floor. 

He had plain mugs, mugs with knowledgeable jokes or quotes, and ‘technically free’ mugs he'd accidentally walked off with from the local diners. That mug had been the only truly tacky mug out of all of them. The tackiest mug across all of town, he’d bet. Unforgivingly ugly and irreplaceable.

Ford sighed, standing up again so he could get something to clean up the mess, trying to think back to potential hiding spots for his journals and avoid the pointless pondering of why he apparently felt bad about such an obnoxious mug of all things.

[beautifulblhell]

A Kaleidoscope Of Colours Ch 1 (Finder Fic)

Pairing: Asami Ryuichi x Takaba Akihito

Summary: Having hated alphas for most of his life, the last thing Akihito wanted was to fall in love with an alpha. Except fate decided to reunite him with Asami. High school x omegaverse AU fic WC: 6099

Read it on: AO3

Chapter 1: Cherry Blossom Pink

Alphas are superior.

While it was true that alphas were born with good-looks and were physically superior to betas and omegas, and even if most of the top spots for the national exams were occupied by alphas, the automatic pass to ascend to the elite world, lord around others and arrogantly discriminate the omegas just because they were an alpha pissed Akihito off royally. That’s what had been instilled into everyone’s mind since the moment they were born, and society just accepted that as the truth.

‘Superior’ my ass, Akihito thought angrily as he agilely scaled up the tall iron gate. With a kick, he jumped off from the top and landed on the ground with a light thud.

“Hey, what do you think you are doing here?!”

Sure, they didn’t have to deal with those inconvenient heat cycles and take time off work, but most of the time they didn’t even work much themselves, only sitting on top of their ‘thrones’ and working others like slaves in a company that their forefathers had left them.

“Hey! I’m talking to you!”

Bunch of good-for-nothing leeches.

“Listen here, you punk-“

A man -whom Akihito assumed to be a security guard from his outfit- ran across the school ground and accosted him in a menacing voice. He reached out a hand to grab Akihito by the shoulder but instead-

“Eh- Argh! It hurtsssss!!”

Accompanying the shrieks were dull crunching noises as Akihito bent the guard’s hand in a direction that no human hands were supposed to.

“Argh! Wait wait wait, please let go!”

Akihito slowly faced the guard. The guard stopped struggling the moment he saw the deep-seated rage behind Akihito’s eyes, his fear temporarily eclipsing his pain. Beads of cold sweat ran down his face and he tried to smile, his lips twitching. He gulped noisily, then stuttered, “U-uh sir? How may I help you?”

“Is this Yozen Academy?”

“Sure is, sir. Um, may I ask if you have any business here?” The guard laughed nervously, his eyes flickering desperately side to side, probably hoping for reinforcements, but it seemed that even Satan had turned a blind eye to his plight.

“Sure do.”

Following those words, in one swift movement, Akihito delivered a roundhouse kick straight at the man’s abdomen. The guard sailed through the air, followed by a dull thud as he landed heavily on the ground.

“...”

There was no movement.

Akihito walked over and stared in disbelief at the unconscious figure lying limply there. He nudged the man with his shoes, but the foam trickling from the guard’s mouth was his only response.

At least he was still alive. Probably.

A one hit K.O. huh. What kind of lame-ass security did they employ that faints from a single kick?

That… did not satiate his burning rage one bit.

He had been expecting to face at least quite a few veteran guards so he came with the intent to fistfight God if he had to, but this… this single minion took only a moment for Akihito to finish. In fact, seeing that he was able to deal with this in one blow did nothing but flame his irritation even more.

Akihito cracked his knuckles, scowling. Guess his target will receive his full wrath then.

“Well, pardon the intrusion.”  He stepped over the body as he said so. Narrowing his eyes, he scanned his surroundings.

Before him stood Yozen Academy, one of the most prestigious alpha-only high schools in the country. Only the most influential, wealthy, and powerful people around the world could send their alpha children to.

An imposing white building with an oppressive architectural style sprawled out in front of him, with wings adjoined on either side, giving the impression that Akihito was stepping into the mouth of a monster. It donned several stories high. Instead of making the building seem open, the giant glass windows seemed more like soulless eyes, gazing emptily at Akihito. Trees lined up the road leading towards the main entrance  with the track fields and sports courts could be seen off to the side.

Heck, whose decision was it to make this school so huge?! I’m gonna need Google Maps to navigate around this monstrosity. He ran a hand irritably through his bleached blond hair.

Finding his target in such a vast space was going to be difficult. Akihito tried not to let his annoyance stop him. A few students had exited the building, then, after seeing Akihito, they all doubled back in panic, slamming the door with a loud bang. As if a door could stop Akihito.

Such a nice welcome, and here I thought that they taught manners at this fancy school.

It didn’t help that Akihito wasn’t trying to blend in. While all the students were in pristine white uniforms, excellently tailored that screamed ‘I’m made of money!’, Akihito wore the more plain black gakuran with his sleeves rolled up. The white t-shirt he wore underneath was emblazoned with the kanji “fire’ along with a drawing of flames. Plus, he carried a wooden bat with suspicious dark red stains dried on to it on his shoulders.

So yeah, not very inconspicuous.

Akihito stared moodily at the building, contemplating whether to charge in or wait it out, since he was apt to get lost in that huge building if he went in. As he was thinking, an old bald guy with a shiny forehead that refracted the sunlight, blinding Akihito temporarily, stuck his head out from a window and then quickly retracted, like those whack-a-moles in arcades. Akihito knew that he would be calling the police.

Ahhh, damn, gotta act fast. It would be a pain in the ass if the police come. Not that he minded, since he could lead them on another motorcycle chase. But Akihito was losing his patience and his self restraint was getting tired at this point, ready to snap anytime. Well, gotta get him out of there first. And to do that? Akihito took a deep breath.

“COME THE HELL OUT OF THERE, YOU PIECE OF CRAP ALPHA!”

Hundreds of faces peered at him from the square glass windows. To be honest, Akihito didn’t specify which alpha he was looking for, but seeing so many alphas looking at him, Akihito couldn’t resist saluting his middle finger at them as a greeting. The horrified faces granted him a tiny bit of satisfaction.

Probably never had anyone act like this towards them, especially an omega, Akihito sniggered inwardly.

It was then a door from the left wing of the building opened, and a single person walked out, his back towards Akihito. He had a lean physique and wore the same white school uniform as the rest of the students here, however, he had a presence that was impossible to ignore. A striking presence that commanded everyone’s attention around him, but also emitted a quiet coldness that warned people off.

A tall muscular black haired alpha, had an imposing air. Kou had said angrily while Takato had his arms around a sobbing Yuriko. He probably said a name, but as he had just told Akihito what happened with Yuriko, it rocketed in one ear and out through the other.

Yep, found him. With his temper hanging on by a thread, he stalked towards the boy.

“Oi, I finally found you, you little-“

Hearing his voice, the young man turned around in surprise. The moment their gazes locked, Akihito jerked to an abrupt standstill. Whatever words that were in Akihito’s throat evaporated, along with any coherent thoughts he had.

That spring day during Akihito’s sixteenth year, his world exploded into a kaleidoscope of colours.

The light spring breeze sighed softly through the cherry blossom trees in the courtyard, creating a soft pink snowfall. Petals danced and swirled around them, seemingly full of life, as if gently beckoning them to be closer, creating a veil that separated them from the rest of the world, a space where it was only them two.

Through the branches, soft sunlight filtered through, basking the young man’s features in its warm rays, and Akihito’s eyes widened, his need to breathe forgotten.

The alpha’s beauty was ethereal. His soft black hair fluttered in the wind, framing his handsome features. His eyes were a striking deep golden colour, which widened in surprise when they saw Akihito.

“Aki...hito?”

The words were spoken so softly, and amidst the sound of the branches shuffling against each other, it was almost impossible to hear, but the gentle wafting air drifting amidst the blooming flowers carried the young man’s voice to Akihito, along with a delicate sweet fragrance, tickling Akihito’s nose.

Time seemed to have stopped and the whole world ceased to exist. Inside the whirlwind of blossoms, it was a space where nothing mattered, only them, reflecting so clearly in each other’s eyes.

“Pretty bold of you to bring your omega to school, Asami,” The atmosphere was instantly killed by an obnoxious voice that drew from behind him.

As if someone poured cold water over him, the adenoidal voice sent Akihito crashing back into his disordered senses. Reality was a bitch.

For a moment or two, he stood there in stunned silence. He was dimly aware of the voice of the newcomer, but his mind was not processing the meanings. He was overwhelmed by the unexpected welter of emotions swelling up inside of him. Emotions that he had never experienced before, emotions that he doesn’t have a name for, that sent his heart pounding, his blood pumping furiously in his veins, carrying a warm feeling, spreading through his entire body. As if someone had played a melody, and his heartstrings were vibrating along with every cadence.

The anger he was just feeling earlier was being painted over with confusion.

Heck, what is this? This- this feeling-

“Sakazaki.” The voice was cold and deep. The mere sound sent a jolt through Akihito like he touched a live wire. Slowly, he turned around. The black-haired alpha was now standing between him and the newcomer.

“Is that another Kuroyama High omega?” The obnoxious voice carried an unnecessary arrogant tone.

Hearing that, Akihito shakes himself out of his daze and mentally slapped himself to focus on the reason he came here in the first place. He pushed aside the pretty alpha in front of him and faced the irritating newcomer.

“Why do you mean, ‘another’?”

The newcomer was another alpha who exuded extreme arrogance as he stood with his hands in his pockets, unbothered by Akihito’s tone. His head was tilted back as he looked down on Akihito through his glasses. He sprouted the most awful looking scraggly beard Akihito had ever seen on a human. Half of his shirt button was open, revealing a rather hairy chest.

The goatee guy leered at Akihito, “Well, there was a little omega who wore the same cheap uniform as you who came onto me recently.”

It took Akihito a moment to realize in his still confused state that this was the person Kou was talking about.

The anger that had subsided started to brew up again. He hissed through his teeth, “She never came onto you.”

The goatee guy appraised Akihito with slimy dark, cold eyes that reminded Akihito of the dead fish at the outdoor fish markets. He then shrugged and leered, “Why does it matter? Omegas should just obey the will of the alphas, since the only useful thing they can do is to spread their legs for us. Isn’t this why you came over? Wanting to find an alpha to look after you?”

A waft of a heavy sickly sweet smell, like an overripe fruit that has been left for too long and turned rotten suddenly brooded over the air.

“Sakazaki.” An angry warning tone suddenly sliced through the air as the black haired alpha stepped forward. In an instant, an intimidating aura came crashing down and the air froze over. For a brief moment, the goatee guy seemed surprised by the young man’s anger, but in the haze of his anger, Akihito barely registered the smell and the exchange.

If there was a type of person that Akihito hated the most, it was alphas. Looking down and trampling the effort of others without working hard themselves, and acting as though they could do no wrong. As if it was all a privilege that came with the status of being born as an alpha.

Akihito gripped the bat so tightly in his hand that the wood creaked. The rage that he had suppressed earlier came roaring back to life in his ears. “Listen here, you piece of crap that is worse than the dog shit I nearly stepped onto this morning-“

The rest of his words were drowned out by the sound of several cars coming to a screeching halt in front of the gate and of vehicle doors slamming shut. The iron gate opened, welcoming in a swarm of men in black. They came charging towards them.

“That’s him, the delinquent with a bat !” A wheezing voice screamed above them. Akihito scowled as he saw the whack-a-mole guy pointing at him from the windows.

“Leave.” The raven haired alpha said over his shoulder. He was still standing protectively in front of Akihito. But Akihito doesn’t listen. The flames of his anger had burnt down the last shred of his self control. He ducked to the side and aimed a heavy kick between the legs of the goatee alpha.

The goatee guy had fast reflexes, Akihito had to give him that. He dodged, barely missing Akihito’s kick, but Akihito was quicker as he followed through with his second strike.

Before the goatee guy could see it coming, Akihito’s fist slammed into his abdomen with full force. And exactly half a second later, Akihito’s other first landed on the goatee guy’s cheekbones, sending his glasses flying. All he saw was red. Anger, that every alpha he had encountered had treated omegas like shit, and anger, at his own helplessness when he was weak and could do nothing but watch. He was just pulling his hand back to permanently rearrange the Goatee guy’s face when his arms were stopped.

Cool fingers grabbed his wrists tightly, and an angry voice hissed in his ear.

“You need to leave.”

The moment Akihito heard the voice, it pulled him out of the red mist that so often controlled him when he was angry. He blinked in surprise, then all of a sudden, the feeling of the ground beneath his feet vanished. His vision titled, and a cloudless expanse of clear blue filled his vision. At first, his eyes were taken away by the beauty of the petals dancing amidst the blue backdrop, but then the shouts of surprise brought him back to his senses.

By then, the black haired alpha had already kicked off the ground and jumped on the high walls surrounding the school effortlessly.

While carrying Akihito in his arms bridal style.

As soon as the young man made a soft landing on the other side of the wall, he dropped Akihito onto his feet.

“Leave,” he repeated, his tone final, leaving no room for argument. His eyes were hard. If it was anyone else hearing that tone, they would have no doubt scuttled away by now.

But the words simply rolled off Akihito with absolutely no effect on him.

Akihito gaped at him. The whole process has been so fast that his mind had barely kept up with what had happened, but now that his two feet were back on the ground, his initial surprise abetted and indignation and embarrassment replaced it. “You- What the hell do you think you were doing?!” To be carried like that, Akihito had no face to show to the rest of the gang.

The young alpha’s eyebrows pulled together seeing Akihito’s uncooperative attitude. He opened his mouth, but the commotion on the other side of the wall disrupted him.

“They went over the wall. Catch them!” Thundering footsteps could be heard coming towards them.

The young man clicked his tongue in annoyance and without answering Akihito, he grabbed his hand.

The moment their hands touched, a bolt of electricity ran through Akihito’s hand. Akihito gasped as both of their hands jerked from the contact. An expression of surprise mirrored on both of their faces, before the golden-eyed alpha set his jaws and wrapped his hands around Akihito’s once more. The place where they were touching seemed to be burning.

Then they sprinted into the bright spring morning. The young man was fast, with his damn long legs, but Akihito had no problem keeping up. Giving the severity of the situation, that he had invaded one of the most elite high school in Japan and attacked a son of a probably-very-important figure either in the government or the corporate world, he should probably be panicking at the amount of trouble he would be in, but for some reason, his heart felt light, and everything around him seemed to be more colourful and brighter than before.

They both finally stopped when they reached the middle of a bustling street. Strands of the young man’s carefully combed dark hair had fallen into his eyes. He roughly pushed them back before turning towards Akihito, his jaw tight, which only helped highlight his cheekbones and show off his jawline.

“Why do you never listen?”

“What is that supposed to mean? ”Akihito pulled his hand back and scowled, “I didn’t ask for your help. I could have beaten them on my own.”

The young man narrowed his golden eyes. “They are professionals.”

Akihito shrugged. He knew but that doesn’t mean he was going to admit he couldn’t defeat them. Well, not all of them, anyway.

“Why did you help me? You’re an alpha.”

The young man seemed visibly confused. “What’s that got to do with me helping you or not?”

“Alphas think they are superior right? Like that hairy gorilla guy with the ugly goatee earlier. You think the rest of us are below you.”

His golden eyes hardened a fraction when Akihito mentioned the arrogant guy.

“Don’t put me in the same league as Sakazaki. That doesn’t mean all alphas act like that.”

Akihito snorted. “Sure, you might pretend that you are nice at the beginning, but in the end, you’ll leave. Someone I know deserted me once he knew he was an alpha and I was an omega. I hope that asshole lives happily ever after.”

The alpha suddenly stiffened, a flash of pain entered his eyes before he shifted his gaze away.

Akihito felt that he said something that shouldn’t have been said, but the sun can start orbiting around the moon before he apologies to an alpha.

They looked in the opposite direction, neither one willing to break the awkward silence between them.

That was when Akihito caught sight of a small figure standing hesitantly amongst the throng of people. The little boy looked left and right, his big eyes welling up with tears as he looked helplessly around him.

Akihito walked up to the child.

“Hey kid, can’t find your parents?”

“My mother… I can’t find her.” The boy’s voice was trembling from holding back his tears.

“Mother, huh,” There was a twinge of sadness in Akihito’s voice, but before anyone could take note of it, he squatted down so he was eye-level with the small child, and smiled brightly, patting the boy on his head. “Don’t worry, I’ll help you to find her!”

At first, the boy looked relieved, but as soon as he saw the bat Akihito had in his hand, his lips quivered and broke out into tears.

“I want my mummy!”

“Hey- wait! Why are you crying?!” Akihito tried to soothe the child, but to no avail. He turned around and looked at the young man in a panic, “Hey you! Don’t just stand there, do something!”

The young man looked as if Akihito asked him to summon up a pink elephant and alien and teach them waltz.

An old lady ambled up to them and clicked her tongue, “Young people nowadays, you think it’s alright to skip school and hang around in town and cause a ruckus at this hour of the day?” She took one look at the crying child and raised her voice even higher, “And exhorting money from an elementary school kid! Shame on you! This is why society is going downhill nowadays! I’m going to call the police and they’ll sort you out!”

Akihito was just about to argue that it wasn’t his fault that society is the way it is now when the old lady’s hand shot out with surprisingly nimbleness and wrenched the bat out of Akihito’s grasp.

“Hey! Give that back!”

But the old lady turned up her voice to maximum volume, so it sounded as if she was speaking through a megaphone.

“Talking back to your elders now, are you?! And what are you doing walking around with a weapon like this, threatening upstanding citizens like myself in this area?”

By now, a small crowd of onlookers had gathered around them. Akihito knew it wasn’t good for them to be attracting attention now, but he wanted his bat back.

“Look, I’m not threatening anyone with it, I-“

“What’s going on there?” A voice shouted from afar, and Akihito saw a policeman patrolling the area running towards them.

As if reading his intentions of wanting to grab his bat back, a hand pulled him back and dragged him away.

‘Hey wait! Let me go! I need that bat!”

But the young man didn’t let go. After dragging a struggling Akihito along a few streets, he finally released Akihito.

Akihito turned to run back the moment he was free, but he had hardly taken a step when he froze.

…

Where was he?

Glancing left and right, he saw designer boutiques lining up the wide pavement, and foreign cars whizzing along the road.

There was no way he could find his way back to where they were.

Akihito clutched his head in his hands and let out a groan. He was going to be so much trouble for losing that bat. He wanted to put it back before anyone found out that he took it, but now…

Seeing that Akihito was no longer running away, the young man said, “We should go somewhere inside for a while. They might be searching in this area soon.” After saying so, he walked off, as if expecting Akihito to follow him.

Akihito contemplated not following the young man, but he wasn’t familiar with this part of Tokyo at all. After all, no one without at least 100,000 digits in their bank account would come to this area.

He sighed.

With no other choice, he walked behind the other boy.

Everywhere they went, passersby turned their heads and did a double take at the young man. Akihito scowled. Sure, even amongst alphas, the young man was pretty good looking, with his tie yanked down and collar loosened, but he has flaws too, like…

…

Akihito couldn’t come up with any imperfections. And that irritated him even more.

There’s no way someone has no flaws. Maybe his height? But he was pretty tall. Then his face? Nope, it seems as if God had forsaken the rest of humanity’s appearance after creating one masterpiece.

Because Akihito was so deep in his thoughts, he didn’t notice the boy in front of him had stopped in his tracks and walked straight into him.

“Oww,” Akihito complained, rubbing his nose. At least he smelled good-

Wait, what?

Shocked at his own thoughts, he realized a second too late that the other boy had already veered off course and into a building.

He looked up at the building. The bright lights displaying the word ‘cinema’ shone down on him.

Akihito quickly darted inside the building. The smell of popcorn greeted him. By the time he stepped inside the foyer, the black haired boy was already at the ticket counter. Turning to Akihito, he asked, “Are there any films you want to see?”

“Yeah sure, are they still screening Barbie or My Little Pony?”

The young man gave him a deadpan look, then turned back to the lady at the booth.

“Then two tickets for the next film that’s screening.”

The lady smiled at them both kindly, and handed them their tickets.

“Please enjoy.”

Akihito walked up to him when he saw he paid for both of them. “How much was it? I’ll pay for my own.” He moved to put his hand in his pocket, but-

Shitttttt

His hand came up empty.

He had left in such a hurry this morning that he had forgotten his wallet.

“I-uh…”

Akihito shifted his feet, eyes gravitating towards the ground, suddenly finding a spot on the carpet really fascinating.

“I kinda...uh…”

The young man simply handed Akihito his tickets, along with a wad of notes.

“The concession stand is over there. I will wait for you at the entrance of the screen.”

He spoke curtly, and before Akihito could protest, he had already walked off.

Akihito stared at the bills in his hands, eyes wide. Holy crap, he must be rich. The black haired guy still seemed a bit angry, but Akihito brushed it off his mind and headed towards the snack stand.

When Akihito came back, the raven haired boy raised his eyebrows. In fact, all the cinema goers did a double take when Akihito walked past them.

He was holding a jumbo pot of popcorn. Balanced on top was a super sized hot dog and a small tray of takoyaki. In his left hand he was holding a cup of soda, and dangling between his fingers was a bag of candy floss. His trousers pockets were also bulging.

He shrugged when he saw the other boy staring at him.

“I didn’t have breakfast.”

Miraculously, or perhaps, incredibly, Akihito was able to walk down their aisle without dropping a single popcorn. He stopped short when he arrived at their designated seats.

“...”

“What is it?”

“No way. No way in hell am I gonna sit in that.”

What Akihito was referring to was a special seat for couples. The red sofa-like seat was heart shaped and there was no armrest in between.

Just looking at it made Akihito shudder.

Why the hell would they give them that seat?!

He stormed out of the screen.

“I want a change of seats.”

The lady at the booth looked flustered. “Ah, uhm, my deepest apologies, but there are no more vacant seats.”

“Is that delinquent causing trouble?”

“Maybe he wants to watch it for free and is harassing the poor girl.”

I can hear you, Akihito turned and scowled at the other movie goers whispering behind his back.

A hand yanked his collar.

“Hey- what are you doing?! Let me go!”

So once again, Akihito was dragged away, back towards the screen and into the seat.

“Did no one tell you it’s rude to drag someone?” Akihito glowered at the other man.

“Then don’t make a big scene, unless you want to be kicked out.” He sat down, and faced the screen, putting an end to the conversation.

Armed with no more options, Akihito sulked in his seat.

But they were in such close proximity that everytime they moved, their knees would brush, so Akihito sat like a stone, only moving his hands from the food to his mouth.

The movie seemed to be a romance one, something about a pair of childhood friends finally reuniting, a jealous stalker that comes with the package because the male lead was too handsome, and an unnecessary side character that keeps trying to steal the limelight.

Akihito was bored. Corny romance movies like these made his lone brain cell want to self-destruct. Especially that scene when one of them got kidnapped and got left on a stranded island, and the other braved through blazing gunfire and somehow could miraculously operate a helicopter and save the other person.

Maybe it was because of the film, but a certain memory from his past surfaced up, a memory that he had hardly thought of anymore.

When he was young, he made friends with another boy slightly older than him. He thought they were best friends, but after they got their tests back on their secondary gender, and he told his friend that he was an omega, the other boy slowly then completely dropped contact.

Probably thinks he’s too great to play with an omega.

What was that boy’s name again? Asami Ryuichi right?

...

Suddenly, the popcorn in his mouth felt like sand. The bucket of popcorn tumbled from his hand, spilling loudly across the ground. Several heads turned towards them, but Akihito couldn’t care less right at this moment. He jerked his head towards the person sitting on his right so hard that he nearly got whiplashed.

Didn't the Goatee guy call him Asami? Akihito raked through his memory hard. But it was all a blur since that weird time-stop moment had happened.

“...What’s your name?”

The black haired boy’s mouth thinned, as if Akihito had asked him a question he didn’t want to answer. His eyes stayed glued to the screen.

The glare of the light from the screen should have turned his face into an unattractive landscape of washed out colours, but it only made him more beautiful.

Just when Akihito thought he didn’t hear him and was about to ask again,

“...Asami.”

His voice was quiet, barely above a whisper, but Akihito’s heart took the expressway straight to his stomach. His jaw dropped to the floor.

So that’s why he looked uncomfortable when Akihito mentioned the person he knew from his childhood, they were the same person!

“Why didn’t you say that you were Asami earlier?!”

Unable to contain his shock, Akihito inadvertently raised his voice.

The other movie watchers turned to them in shock.

“Did he say Asami?”

“The Asami?”

“No way!”

The whispers spread like a ripple across a still lake. Asami stood up abruptly and exited the screen. He didn’t say another word until they were both outside the building. Akihito followed behind without a word, slightly regretting his outburst. Then, with a furrow in between his brows, Asami said with a voice that carried an exasperated resignation.

“Do you have to cause a commotion everytime you go somewhere?”

“Hey, that wasn’t on purpose!” Akihito said reflexively. Or rather, heard himself say. His mind was still reeling at the revelation.

But it wasn’t surprising that the other people were shocked. The Asami family was famous. It was an old family, with their influence extending to everywhere from politics to business. And they were one of the wealthiest families in Japan.

They walked aimlessly down the street in silence.

A thousand questions burned in Akihito’s throat, and a thousand questions extinguished in his mouth.

What should he say? How have you been? Or, why did you leave?

The betrayal after so many years still stung, but everytime he saw Asami, the questions died. There was something different, something untouchable about Asami now, that made him seem so different from the young boy that lived in Akihito’s memories.

A loud rumble echoed.

It seemed that Akihito had done too much thinking.

Asami turned back, his eyebrows raised.

“Are you still hungry?”

“Hey,” Akihito raised both of his hands, “I didn’t even get to finish eating the food I got before we left the cinema.”

Akihito's eyes trailed around, and landed on a golden arch of the letter ‘M’.

“There, let’s go eat there.”

He probably has never been into a fast food restaurant before. Akihito sniggered inwardly. Payback number 1.

Akihito grinned at Asami, “Though there’s no knife or forks there. Are you sure you are going to be alright?”

Asami shot him a withering look, then headed inside.

But to Akihito’s surprise, instead of looking uncomfortable, Asami walked up the counter and ordered without any hesitation.

The person at the counter placed a cup of sundae on their tray.

“Here, it’s a free special sundae for couples when you buy two or more deluxe meals because it’s White Day.”

...It’s White Day today?! Of all days to meet with Asami again. Akihito facepalmed inwardly. But Asami didn’t seem bothered. He took the tray, and sat them at a table near the corner. He pushed three burgers with fries towards Akihito, and only took one for himself.

His long elegant fingers unwrapped up his burger. He looked so refined, so out of place in a cheap burger chain, and if Akihito didn’t know Asami, he would have thought Asami was a model shooting a commercial.

At that moment Asami glanced up, his eyes met Akihito’s.

“Eat.”

Embarrassment coloured Akihito’s cheeks at having been caught staring. He quickly stuffed the burger in his mouth.

Still, after the three burgers, Akihito stared at the sundae. It looked delicious. Strawberry sauce dripped enticingly off the soft peaks of the ice cream.

Asami must have seen him staring at it with sparkling eyes because he said, “You can have it.”

“All of it?” Even when saying so, Akihito was pulling the cup towards himself.

The first mouthful was bliss, and a content smile naturally spread across Akihito’s face. But all too soon, the cup was empty. Akihito leaned back in his chair, his hunger finally abated. Now that they had both finished eating, the silence made Akihito shift uncomfortably in his seat. His fingers fiddled with the empty cup. He was just thinking about how to break the silence when Asami beat him to it.

“What were you doing there this morning?”

For a brief moment, Akihito’s mind pulled up empty. Then he stiffened as he remembered the reason and that he was with an alpha himself. A sour taste entered his mouth, and a scowl appeared on his face.

“That goatee gorilla guy harassed my friend's girlfriend. He forcefully used his pheromones on her and made her go into heat. Luckily Takato arrived in time, but who knows what would have happened if he didn’t.” The cup got crushed in his fist.

Asami was silent, then, “You should stay away from him.”

Akihito’s anger started to simmer up again. “Didn’t you hear what I just said he did? No way in hell am I gonna let him off the hook for what he did.”

“It’s not your problem, is it?”

“Takato’s like my brother, so of course it’s my problem! Plus, his attitude pisses me off, you heard what he said-“

“Don’t go near Sakazaki.” An edge had entered Asami’s voice.

Akihito sat back, folding his arms. He wasn’t about to back down. He glared at Asami. “Are you protecting him?”

Asami looked disgusted at the very idea.

“Then what’s your problem with me-“

“You don’t know what he’s capable of.”

“That doesn’t scare me-“

“Akihito.”

The air surrounding them suddenly became thin. Akihito’s mouth snapped shut.

“Do. Not. Go. Near. Him.”

Asami’s words were flat, cold. He spoke slowly, but there was no masking his anger. His golden eyes burned into Akihito’s, preventing Akihito from looking away, and for once, Akihito was at a loss for words. Asami held his gaze for a few more seconds, then he stood up, taking the tray to the nearby trash can.

The silence returned, and neither of them made any attempts to break it. Akihito’s mood was black and refused to look at Asami. Did Asami expect him to smile, nod his head and go, “Yeah, sure, I won’t.”?

Asami made no move to break it either. He simply walked out of the restaurant and along Main Street and flagged down a taxi. Seeing Asami talking to the driver and handing him a wad of cash, Akihito had just decided to turn around and blindly walk around until he was at a familiar place when Asami pushed him inside the taxi.

He leaned against the car door frame, his eyes capturing Akihito’s, and said, “Remember what I’ve said. Don’t go near the school or Sakazaki again.”

“Now wait a damn minute you-“

He closed the door to the taxi before Akihito could say any more.

Then, he spun on his heel and strode away briskly, disappearing into the crowd of people, and the taxi pulled away.

*****

The moment Asami closed the door to his room, he slumped onto the ground, all the energy leaving his body.

Why, why did he have to appear again now of all times?

[hallospaceboyy]

just read 'it's you, always' and i loved it. 🥺 i was wondering if you would do a second part where she meets the rest? i absolutely adore soft!zelda. ♡

It's You, Always Part 2

AN: I shall link the first part on here as soon as I get around to turning my laptop on, but for now, you can find it on my masterlist!x

Warning for brief smut

Part 1

Luckily when Zelda takes you inside from your place on the porch, hand still firmly clasped in yours, nobody is home. The house is still and silent, and your breath hitches in your throat when Zelda spins around and wraps her arms around your waist, pulling you flush against her.

“Nobody will be home for a couple of hours. How about we take that time to get,” She smirks, pausing as her hands slide down to your ass. “Reacquainted?”

You blush and giggle, fingers tangling in her copper hair. Your lips brush hers, and Zelda flicks her tongue out at your parted lips. It's been over two centuries since you’ve touched her, seen her beautifully bare, and your heart aches for it now, your whole body craves it. As you kiss her hard, pushing her towards the stairs, you find the breath stolen from your lungs, suddenly so desperate for her. You're overwhelmed with the need to touch her everywhere, kiss her everywhere, make a map of her body and etch it into your mind. The images of her have grown hazy over the years, dulled, and you want to brighten them again, bring them to life, colourise them.

“Zelda. I need you. Zelda please please.” Your voice is an urgent whisper, hurried and desperate, thick with emotion, tears welling in your eyes as your hands roam her body, clasping at her in needy franticness, pressing sloppy kisses to her lips as you speak.

“Shh. I’m here baby.” She brings her hands up to cup your cheeks, gazing into your eyes fondly, her lips curled into a smile. “I'm yours.”

You nod your head, and take a deep breath to calm yourself, allowing her to lead you to her bedroom. It doesn’t take long for you to shed each other of your clothes, but you're less frantic now, allowing yourself to indulge in the moment. As each garment is tossed away, a gentle caress of bare skin follows, a brief kiss to naked flesh. When you’re both stripped to nothing, you lay on the bed side by side, facing each other, allowing your legs to entwine as Zelda grazes a finger over the swell of your breast, down your side, stopping to rest at your hip. You just gaze at each other, take each other in, and Zelda is still breathtakingly gorgeous. You could worship every inch of her, plan to do just that.

You take your time with her, reacquaint yourself with every inch of her – kiss every mole, every scar, every mark. Some you had already known of, and some were new, so you add them to your map, your little map of Zelda and every part of her that you love and adore. Then you make love to her, delight in the moans and whines she releases, the cries of your name that you had so missed hearing from her lips, and you feel her, taste her, and you've missed all of this so much that you bring her to blissful completion again and again. You want to make her feel good, relish in the sight of her, flushed, face contorted in pleasure, cherry red lips parted in ecstasy. Zelda returns the favour, devours you with equal fervour, and she’s just as good as you remember – maybe better. The redhead is just as attentive, whispers sweet words and praises as she coaxes you over the edge, slender fingers filling you, hot mouth at your ear.

*

You're both just getting dressed when you hear the front door slam, and you’re suddenly nervous, hands trembling slightly as you adjust your shirt, inspecting yourself in the full length mirror. You’d been laying entwined in bed for quite some time, catching up on each others lives, sharing the things you'd each missed while lazily stroking soft skin. You're about to meet the people Zelda holds most dear to her, and this terrifies you. She dotes on her niece and nephew, had seen the way her lips curled into a smile when talking about them, and you want them so desperately to like you. You're still fidgeting, with a distracted frown on your face when Zelda comes up behind you and wraps her arms around your waist.

“You look beautiful, and don’t worry. They’re going to love you.” She squeezes you, smiling reassuringly as she leads you from the room, and your stomach is twisting into knots as you hear the chatter coming from downstairs, the bustle of activity.

“Salem said someone's here with Auntie Zee. I wonder who it is.”

“Salem would do well to mind his own business.” Zelda quips as she enters the room with you trailing behind her, hand firmly clasped in yours.

The room is filled with an awkward silence as the small blonde whips around to face you both, her eyes drifting from Zelda to yourself as the redhead gently pulls you to stand beside her. You recognise Hilda instantly, and her blue eyes brighten as she seems to recognise you too, grinning wide as she bustles towards you and pulls you into her arms. You squeak in surprise, but hug her back just as tight. You laugh against her, for she hasn’t changed a bit, has always been so affectionate and kind.

“Oh, Y/N, it's so nice to see you, love!” She pulls away and rubs your shoulders affectionately. Zelda's arm wraps around your waist and pulls you firmly to her side when Hilda steps away, and she sends you a soft smile.

“Sabrina, Ambrose, this is Y/N. She’s-" She pauses then, unsure what exactly to call you. Your eyes flit between them all, and you see Ambrose and Sabrina exchanging a glance with raised eyebrows and small smirks. You see what Zelda means, they’re definitely intuitive, seem to know instantly exactly the kind of relationship you and Zelda have had.

“An old flame. We've known each other for a very long time.” You huff a nervous laugh, blushing profusely.

“And this is my and niece and nephew. They are both my blessing and my curse.” She chuckles as she pulls out the chair at the head of the table and sits down, and you follow suit, sitting in the seat beside her.

“So, you two go way back?” Ambrose asks from his place perched on the counter, munching on an apple.

“Oh, you two were so in love. It was heart warming, really. Inseparable they were.” Hilda smiles fondly as the unpacks the groceries, and when you look to Zelda you're mildly surprised to see a small smile playing at her lips.

“Yes, we were at the Academy together.” Zelda lights a cigarette, and you watch the way the flame illuminates her face, eyes flitting over her features. You still can’t wrap your head around being here, with Zelda. Zelda and her family. You never thought you'd see her again.

“You were in love?” Sabrina grins, parking herself in the seat opposite you and resting her chin on her hand.

Zelda links her free hand with yours, sending you a wink, and she makes no effort to answer her niece, so you fill the silence.

“Very much so.” You stroke the back of Zelda's pale hand with your thumb, and Sabrina is watching the small gesture. “I haven’t stopped loving your Aunt for a single second that we’ve been apart. Which is why I’m here now. I missed her far too much.”

“So, are you staying?” Sabrina queries, and you don’t even have to ponder the answer, already know that you couldn't leave now, never would.

“As a matter of fact I am. I have all my belongings in the car.”

Zelda looks to you, a twinkle in her eye. “You came here with the intention of staying?”

“Well, I wasn't sure how our reunion was going to play out, but I was hopeful that I wasn’t too late to get you back.” You bring her hand to your lips and kiss her knuckle, and Zelda watches fondly, and so does everyone else, marvelling at the gentleness of you, the way you seem to make Zelda melt at a mere touch. She has a wide smile on her face, looks utterly besotted, just as she had when you were teenagers.

“That's great! Anyone's better than-" Sabrina stops abruptly, eyes going wide, and Zelda stiffens, stubbing out her cigarette and looking down to the table.

She had told you briefly of her marriage to Faustus Blackwood, but hadn't gone into detail. You hadn't pushed the subject, knew that she would tell you in her own time. But it's obvious he had treated her terribly, and your heart aches at the thought, the way she suddenly tries to pull her hand from yours, but you squeeze it tighter in reassurance, tracing lazy patterns on the back of it, and Zelda relaxes, exhaling a heavy breath.

“Auntie Zee deserves someone who makes her happy. I’m glad she’s found you again.” Sabrina states, sending Zelda a tentative glance, as if hoping this sentence will redeem her for her slip of the tongue.

Zelda cups her cheek and smiles, brushes a stray hair behind her ear. “Y/N found me. But I am most glad that she did. Thank you, Sabrina.”

The blonde seems surprised at her sudden affection, and you can only imagine how Zelda may have reacted previously to her niece bringing up her failed marriage, the stony silences, the heated glares. Zelda is so very good at holding a grudge, is so very easy to offend, but it seems having you here has softened her, and there's a comfortable silence in the room now, as you sit there with Zelda's fingers entwined with yours.

“Ambrose, be a dear and start unloading Y/N's car, would you?” Zelda asks, and he immediately jumps from the counter and offers you a warm smile.

“Of course, Auntie.”

“The keys are in my coat pocket. Which is-" You flush as you recall Zelda shedding it from you in her bedroom, glancing to the redhead as she smirks at you and raises a single perfectly arched brow.

“It's on my bedroom floor.”

Ambrose laughs and shakes his head, making his way out of the room. “Of course it is.”

“Right, well as you're staying, I need to discuss dietary requirements. Are you vegetarian, any allergies-" Hilda rambles on excitedly, bustling around the kitchen as she speaks, and you look to Zelda with a soft smile, giggling at the way she playfully rolls her eyes. Things have gone so much better than you had ever imagined. You have your Zelda back, the woman you have loved since you were 17, and you have a family, feel welcome here amongst the Spellmans. There's a warmth in your heart that you haven’t felt in centuries, a happiness that has you feeling as if you’re floating. You know you’re never leaving Zelda's side again, that your place is here.

[stetervault]

Steter fics from 2019/any Steter fics you feel like reccing

2019 Steter fics, let’s see… Here’s a bunch of random ones I’ve enjoyed over the past year:

Where I Want to Be by Tahlruil

Peter wasn’t exactly surprised when he ‘woke up’ in hell.

He’d known his wounds were fatal as soon as he’d gotten them. In truth he’d never expected to still be standing after his quest for revenge had been completed. What mattered was taking the Argent family down with him and making sure they died before he did. Peter had saved Kate and Gerard for last; they had looked into his eyes as they bled out. They had known that he was the instrument of their family’s doom and he couldn’t ask for more than that.

You Are A Call To Motion by neglectedtuesday

Here at Hale Industries ® we don’t believe in limiting one’s pleasure. That’s why we’re dedicated to bringing our clientele the best in Jackbot technology. Whether you’re a busy dom in need of a service sub or a baby boy desperate for an Alien Daddy, Hale Industries ® has the perfect bot for you. Built to your specifications, our customer service team is devoted to building a bot that will never fail to meet your needs. And if you discover something new you want to try, you can subscribe to our monthly upgrade packages in order to add or remove kinks at your leisure.

Hale Industries ® - The Only Limits Are The Ones We Place On Ourselves.

Here Begins the Land of Phantoms by Triangulum

Stiles is four and scared of the dark. There are things in the shadows of his room, whispering to him, showing him terrible, violent things.

There’s something in the basement, too. He can feel it while he’s sitting on the old, worn sofa, its presence curling around the edges of the room. He thinks he can see something sometimes, a mass shimmering in the corner, but he always looks away. He doesn’t want to know.

Or

Peter is a demon that lives in the Stilinskis’ basement.

From Ashes Rebuilt by ambersagen

“You shouldn’t be alive,” Stiles finally admitted. He sounded sorry, smelled like anxiety and hunched in on himself as he fell back from Peter to land in the dented chair. “I heard the doctors telling your niece. She wasn’t quiet about it, and no one cares if I’m around anyway so I heard the whole thing, about your burns. I snuck in to see you.”

“Like a sideshow freak,” Peter sneered, starting to understand.

“Like a miracle,” Stiles corrected.

MCSZ-LW by Bunnywest

Mayor Whittemore gives John his widest politician’s smile. “It’s one of the best- a Halebot. You work so hard for the city, and with Claudia gone five years now, we thought you’d appreciate some company. A service bot is perfect. I mean, you deserve more than the standard gift certificate. “

“Would have preferred the gift card,” John huffs under his breath, but he plasters on a smile and makes all the right noises, because this is an elected position, and as jackbots go, Halebots really are the best. He just doesn’t know quite what he’s going to do with it.

Baby Whisperer by twothumbsandnostakeincanon (somanyofthekids)

“What. Is that.”

Scott looked up at him, apprehensive.

“Her name’s Lily.”

Stiles stared at the fuzzy head peeking out of the papoose.

“Her. Her name. That is a real live human baby. Oh my God-”

“Actually I don’t know if she’s human?” Scott said with a confused frown. “Becca didn’t say.”

“Who the fuck is Becca?!”

Care for Me, As I’ve Never Known by lavenderlotion

“Why…why did you offer me the bite?” Stiles asked quietly, the cover of night and the hum of the Jeep’s engine giving him courage he wouldn’t usually have.

Peter hummed thoughtfully, taking a turn smoothly. “That is quite the question you’re asking. I’m not sure the answer is one you would be happy to hear.”

A Love for Millennia (a story never told) by OneSmartChicken

Stiles had to go into the woods that night. It didn’t make sense. She was lured by the sense of adventure, but there was a more that dragged at her.

Or: Stiles is the only one to realize she and Peter are soulmates. She doesn’t mention it.

Wind Chimes by wynnebat

“Why are you here?” Peter asks, his brow furrowing in confusion. “I can understand curiosity, but Stiles, you have visited me nearly every day for years. It can’t be that simple.”

Stiles shrugs. It’s both simple and not. For him, who grew up with the wind, who is inseparable from it in the best of ways, it is absurdly simple. For Peter, who doesn’t trust the wind as Stiles does, it may not be. “The wind says you’re mine. That’s all I need.”

Robber Foxes (Have No Fears) by RayShippouUchiha (WIP)

In the end all Stiles really has left is his dad, a lonely house, the key and deed to the loft, and a chest filled up with emptiness.

A void, yawning right behind his sternum.

That and the laughter of a fox trapped right beneath his skin, echoing in the hollows of his skull, whispering behind his teeth.

Stiles should have known it wasn’t over.

Magic stains everything it touches after all.

Keep You (Safe) Within my Shadow by lavenderlotion

Stiles has never been scared of the dark. The shadows are his friends.

Into Eden by GracieBirdie

Stiles deciding to bring home the stray alpha he’d hit with his jeep probably made him certifiable, if it hadn’t turned out Peter was as crazy as he was.

Trust in the End by ShebaRen, Tahlruil

Stiles had always kind of assumed that the end of the world was going to be full of fire and panicking people. Nuclear warfare had pretty much been his guess as to how it would all go, but he could be flexible on that. His only certainty was that it would be man-made, because people always messed things up.

He hadn’t expected the end to be full of snow and freezing cold. He hadn’t expected to be so alone while it was happening, hadn’t thought he would be making a trek from California all the way up to - if his maps and bearings were right - Washington State. He definitely hadn’t expected for it all to happen while his parents were away on a trip for their second honeymoon.

Thankfully he’d fallen in with a wolf who had saved his life and then hung around like a bad penny afterward.

Making Marks by Udunie

Stiles woke to his phone ringing at four in the afternoon, because apparently, he’d never even heard of a healthy sleep schedule before, and also; hated himself.

He blindly found it in the pocket of his jeans thrown haphazardly to the floor, and blinked at it for a few seconds before picking it up.

“‘Sup, Lyds?” he asked, just because he knew she hated the nickname, and she did wake him up.

“I’m killing Jackson,” she announced with unusual honesty. To be fair, any kind of honesty was unusual from her, considering her and Stiles only reconnected recently - and it wasn’t like they were too close in high school either.

“Congratulations?”

You Just Got Ghosted! by Ragga

“What’s your name, angel?” little Stiles murmured even as his eyes fell closed, quickly losing his battle against sleep.

Stiles smiled. It was a little sad but also heavy with the knowledge that what he was doing was the right thing—heavy with the knowledge he didn’t deserve the moniker bestowed upon him.

“You can call me Mietek.”

Or the one where there’s time travel, feels abound, two Stiles in one timeline, and one of them stuck somewhere between the planes of existence. Yet a ghost can still manage to save the day and get the girl. Or the wolf. Manly wolf. Because Peter.

Toothed Morality (Send Me Flowers) by rightsidethru

“The world is a dark place, moje kochanie; it is one filled with monsters, always ready to gobble you whole. Be wary of the promises they give: seal every vow with blood and bone and Name. A True Name, one that will bind them to their word.”

“But how will I know that they’re telling the truth, Matka? Couldn’t they lie…?”

“You’ll know, mały płomień.”

Everyone is King When There’s No One Left to Pawn by Bittah_Wizard

The AU where Stiles is an old trickster—just not the one you’re thinking of.

Beefcake Mountain by twothumbsandnostakeincanon (somanyofthekids)

Shortly after moving back to Beacon Hills, the left hand of the Hale Pack opened a text from a mysterious number.

“Is there a mirror in your pants? Because I can see myself in them.”

What the f—

Wild Creatures by neglectedtuesday

The treaty is signed while Stiles is being laced into his wedding corset. Ink splatters parchment as a maid pulls the ribbons, tighter and tighter. Stiles’ breath and future are taken away, all to save a village. He is a sacrifice more than a bride. The maid assists in fixing a choker around Stiles throat. Her hands are cold despite the roaring fire in the grate. The choker is a string of blood red rubies, they reflect the firelight with a wet shine like an open wound.

First to Know by Twisted_Mind

They fold to their knees in the vee of his legs. His hands cradle their cheek and the back of their neck, and they lean into the touch, eyes closing. “It’s mine.”

“What’s yours, darling?”

They drag in a shaky breath, and look up into the face of the man they love. “The magic. It’s mine. My spark did this.”

Chances by SpookyMiscreant

Supernaturals have soulmarks, everyone knew that, but it was ignorant to think that supernaturals only fell in love with supernaturals. It wasn’t necessarily rare for humans to have marks, but not common either. Supernatural kids all anxiously await the full moon after their fifth birthday, but human kids let the full moon pass without much anticipation.Stiles’ mother had made him stay up that night in his underwear as she searched him with a flashlight, intent to see if he was supernatural like his father. The inherent problem here was that Stiles was then and always will be covered head to toe in moles, freckles, and birthmarks.

walk walk (fashion baby) by rightsidethru

Derek shrugged a shoulder and moved the chopsticks through the broth. “Cora’s decided that she wants to transfer out to Berkley, and Uncle Peter has decided to relocate here again. Unfortunately, his reputation is preceding him and not even the three grand we’re offering for the photoshoot is enough to get a model to stay.”

At hearing the amount of money that Derek was actually offering to pay someone for one temporary job, Stiles choked on his noodles and began wheezing for breath as he went into a coughing fit. “Three? Three grand? Three thousand dollars??”

Three thousand dollars would be enough to pay for his rent for the next few months. Or—pay for the upcoming month and give Stiles a chance to buy some of the more advanced books on magical theory that Elder Potter was willing to let Stiles borrow but not keep. Being able to buy his own copies… Stiles’ fingers twitched in almost immediate booklust.

“I’ll do it,” Stiles announced.

Cause I Want You (all to myself) by LadySlytherin

Stiles has an odd habit of licking Peter, seemingly at random and without much thought. Peter takes a lot longer than he should to figure out why.

or

Six Times Stiles Stilinski Licked Peter Hale…and one time Peter licked Stiles instead.

If I Could Kiss You Again by Triangulum

“Summer plans?” Peter asks, eyes on where Isaac is now trying to inch along the ceiling beam toward the wall where he can slide down a pipe.

“Leaving for Stanford in September. Saving the world and working in between now and then,” Stiles says. “Why, gonna miss me?”

“Considering I’ll be left alone with Derek? Yes,” Peter says.

“You’ll have Cora,” Stiles says. “And Isaac will be here to make up a few high school credits.”

There’s a shriek and a thud as Isaac loses his grip, falling on top of Erica and Boyd, sending them all to the ground in a heap.

“Yes,” Peter says flatly. “Thank god for that.”

OR

Five times Stiles kisses Peter and one time Peter kisses him.

Orbital Distance by neglectedtuesday

Artemis, the capital city of the Moon, where movies are born and stars are made. The crown jewel of American cinema and simultaneously Hollywood’s biggest rival. The money may be dollars, it may be counted as the 51st state but the studios run this city, making cinema and waging war. No real bloodshed but equally cutthroat in its own way. Peter has devoured article after article about the industry, from in-depth journalism to gossip rags, desperate for every detail, every scandal, every glorious moon moment.

Hooverville by twothumbsandnostakeincanon (somanyofthekids)

Town to town, train to train, tent to tent.

By 1932, the dust had begun to blow and the jobs were gone.

Anonymity was a byproduct of looking for work, which made it both necessary and convenient.

Stiles had enough secrets of his own to know to look the other way when he saw something that shouldn’t be possible.

The ghost of a tail giving enough balance to disembark a moving train.

Near silent Latin whispered on the edge of a tent encampment.

A flash of burning eyes.

He had more than enough to worry about without adding the oddities of others, and besides- having unusually sharp teeth certainly didn’t make a man worse than the ones running from the wife and kids they couldn’t feed.

So Stiles kept his observations to himself. He kept his everything to himself.

Until he met a man. One with eyes so blue they seemed to glow- and then they did.

Stiles tried to look away, but for the first time he was stopped.

“Don’t be like that sweetheart. Aren’t you curious?”

Rhythm of the War Drums by HyperLittleNori (Shiguresan)

The foreboding song of the drums rumbled through the stands above, made his heart, his blood pound with their increasing rhythm. He’d seen this so many times now, heard the sickening, morbid excitement of the rabble. He readied himself for the carnage, but even nearly a year after he’d first stood in this spot, it still filled him with dread.

As always, he watched the sandy arena through the barred steel gates. They vibrated with the movement, with the almost deafening sounds of the crowd and the drums. A sea of guards stood at his back, but they were not there for him…

Two Worlds Collided by Bittah_Wizard

It was always meant to be Stiles and Peter.

Always.

A Stranger Comes to Town by Bunnywest, DiscontentedWinter, Twisted_Mind

Peter claps his hands together once. “Right! Let’s start getting to know each other, shall we? We can all take turns introducing ourselves, and explaining who we are as writers. I’ll go first.” He stays standing, and spreads his arms wide for a moment. “As I hope you all know, I’m bestselling author Peter Hale. If there’s been a terrible mistake and you didn’t mean to be here, this is your chance to run.”

He gives another charming smile to the tittering biddies on his right. He sketches a dramatic little bow, and then goes on. “Twice a year, I come out here to teach The Masterclass on writing, providing new talent,” he winks at the MFA-wannabes on the left, tucking his hands in his pockets, “with a safe environment to share your work and equip yourselves with the tools for success. I’m looking forward to getting to know you all this weekend.”

Keep You Like An Oath by Green

After 7 years in prison, Peter has important matters to attend to — and at the top of his list is the young mate he left behind, unclaimed for their own protection. But, for all his good intentions, Stiles has always needed him — now more than ever.

Too Much Of A Good Thing by GracieBirdie

Stiles can’t just leave Boyd and Erica chained up in a hunter’s basement, and if the only person willing to listen to him when he asks for help is a formerly dead psychopath? Well, Stiles supposes he could do worse. But of course nothing in Stiles’ life is ever just that simple…

All The Things We’d Do by GracieBirdie

Stiles’ time travel spell doesn’t work out quite right but he figures he should make the best of it, starting with Laura Hale.

The Promises Of Yesterday, The Pledges Of Tomorrow by ShippersList

Stiles is a kid with serious concentration issues and definitely not a guide—let alone a guide strong enough to calm down a feral Sentinel wolf. It’s just not possible.

Thighs Verse by Bunnywest

I’ll give you what you need, pretty boy. And you can call me Sir.

The hairs on the back of Stiles’s neck prickle at that, and his dick throbs. He clicks on the profile and the picture that pops up is UN-FUCKING-FAIR. Jesus Christ on a bicycle, nobody should look like that. The man’s staring into the camera, a smile that’s almost a sneer on his face. And what a face it is. Intense blue eyes, cheekbones like cut glass, and a strong jawline covered in the perfect amount of stubble. His neck, what Stiles can see of it, is thickly muscled, and Stiles can see the beginnings of a tattoo that travels down. There’s the tiniest scattering of grey at his temples, and Stiles breathes out, “Oh yes, Sir,” as he drinks in the details on the profile.

Or, the one in which Stiles experiments with Grindr, and finds his Sir.

The Boy Sleuth by Shey

Stiles is eight when he discovers a box of his mom’s old Nancy Drew Mysteries in the back of the guest bedroom closet.

Magnificent Mischief by twothumbsandnostakeincanon (somanyofthekids)

“Marvelous Miss and the Magnificent Mischief!” the carnival barker shouted just outside the corridor with all the food tents. “Come see Miss Paige do amazing tricks with her talking raven! He not only speaks, but he jokes! He teases! He philosophizes!”

Escaping by Green

“We have to go. Now, Peter.”

Peter’s holding his apartment door open, standing in shock, looking at Stiles. “What? How do you even know where I live?”

The Chasm and the Clash by twothumbsandnostakeincanon (somanyofthekids)

Stiles has dreams of the Alpha after he dies. It makes no sense. He didn’t know Peter before… did he?

Did Peter know him?

And why does his head hurt so much?

[plutoismydaddy]

I can read you like a book 2

Jimin x reader Gangster au

In the midst of a gang war Jimin finds himself in his own war, a war between himself and the feelings he was developing for the girl with the fuzzy pink scarf.

CH1 CH2 CH3 CH4 CH5

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

“Alright be nice to the young lady now Bomi.” the old lady kissed the golden retriever on its head before handing you its leash “I’ll make sure she will have a great time.” you smiled back at her. 

A sigh of relief fell from your lips as you crossed the street, all your other clients had cancelled today, you’d probably have to take an extra shift at the cafe to be able to pay this month’s bills. Sighing again, you stuffed your hands in your pockets. Bomi tugged slightly against the leash as she took in the different scents, you couldn’t help but smile at the dog’s excitement. Looking up you watched the light cloud of your breath disappear into nothing, it had been almost a week since you spoke to the gangs and today was the day you were gonna present your idea. You had to be careful though, there were two big gangs and a smaller one, so you had to be cautious as to not turn them against each other. Everyone was needed for this to work. You turned the corner walking towards the park, The Hyunshik clan first, then the Tigers and lastly BTS. Yeah, that was probably the best idea.

You turned to Munhee with a smile as you walked through the door she had opened, she didn’t enter with you instead closing it and standing outside to make sure no one interrupted. Hyunshik looked up at you “It’s bittersweet to see you” a chuckle left his lips “Well I guess you have a plan.” sitting down you nodded at him. You cleared your throat “I think the best thing to do right now is to wait and gather information.” Hyunshik furrowed his eyebrows the left corner of his lips pulling to the side. “We need as much information on them as possible before we decide how we should take them down. We can’t let any of them get away, so we need to know exactly who is in that gang. And if we can get their positions, that’s even better.”

The man’s lips seemed to relax, but his hand rose to his chin stroking it slightly, probably doubting the idea. “They’re not inflicting any direct harm, right?” “No, not unless they’re not provoked” his eyebrows rose as he spoke. You opened your mouth to speak again but he beat you to it “I think it’s a good plan, we can’t rush this.”. Hyunsik paused in thought “But, I don’t know if The Tigers will agree as easily, three of his men have already been killed, and he’s lost a good amount of product. If anything he might be lining his men up to kill as we speak”. You sighed, you already knew this. “I think we all know that won’t work, I’ll just have to try. And if he doesn’t agree then… I guess I’ll just tell him to back off until it’s over” Hyunshik leaned back in his chair as he laughed “Back off! He’s already easily angered, and you wanna insult him in the face”. You smiled back “It’s only an insult if he takes it as such”. Hyunshik leaned forward “Alright and after gathering the info needed, what happens then?” you shrugged your shoulder “Easy, we just gather them all in a single place and yeah”. Hyunshik smiled, nodding his head “Alright”.

You took a deep breath as you approached the Tigers’ building, you needed all the confidence and patience to convince that hot head old man. 

Your eyes winded in confusion and shock as you saw not only the leaders of the Tigers, but the leader of BTS turned towards you. “Oh I’m sorry, I’ll come back at another hour” you were just gonna give a bow and walk away when Shin the leader of the Tigers stood up with a welcoming smile “No come in, you arrived at the perfect time actually” Namjoon nodded “Please, sit down”. You eyed the two men as you walked in Namjoon had crossed his arms across his chest, his jaw clenched, and Shin was glaring at Namjoon through the corner of his eyes, his lips pressed into a tight line. Okay this was bad you thought as you sat down, it was clear that the two had been arguing before you had walked in, which didn’t help our case at all. You sat down in the chair between the two men, “I’m guessing you were talking about the...problem” Namjoon brought the wine glass to his lips with a chuckle “and as I promised I’m here with an idea”, “I thought you promised a solution?” Namjoon raised an eyebrow at you. “It’s a solution once we try it and it works, for now, it’s an idea” you smiled back, Don’t try me Namjoon. Namjoon continued to stare at you, almost as if he was trying to find the map to Atlantis in your face. “Well spit it out already” Shin’s fingers tapped impatiently on the table.

“Time?! Haven’t we given them enough time?” Shin raised his voice as he pointed to you, “It’s not a matter o-” Shin interrupted you standing up “They took three of my men and almost ten kilos of product”. You blinked at him unhappy to be interrupted “If you just rush in and shoot them you might get one or two, but since we don’t know how many there are in the gang there will most likely be someone that runs and informs the rest of the gang”. Shin pulled out a cigarette as he sat down and Namjoon picked up the wine glass again. This was not going well, seeing the two distracted you rolled your shoulder in an attempt to realise some of your anxiety, and leaned towards Shin resting your elbow on the armrest. “Look, this is not my problem, I’m not even in this business anymore, I’m just trying to help. I’m an ex-mole, and so are the members of the Balck Doves, I thought you’d maybe want some suggestions.”. Shin mirrored your action and leaned onto his elbow as he puffed on his cigarette. “How are you supposed to gather information?” Namjoon questioned seemingly more relaxed. “Like always, using moles,” you sit back up straight “But, only using one or two. To minimise the chance of a spy and any information getting out” both men nodded their heads “But the ones you choose have to be 100% trusted. No doubt.”. You furrowed your eyebrows to exaggerate your seriousness. Shin let out a sigh leaning back in his chair, closing his eyes “All my most trusted are dead” pain fluttered your heart at the frustration in the man’s voice. “I have one” you turned to Namjoon as he spoke, “He’s a childhood friend, so I don’t have any doubts”. You nodded your head “Alright”. 

“JM?” you called out to the man standing with his back to you, turning towards you, his eyebrows rose in confusion “Soomin?”. You blinked at him “yeah?” he leaned closer lowering his voice “Lee Soomin. Like Lee Soomin the mole?” you furrowed your eyebrows at his action “Yes. What’s with the suspicion?”. He leaned back putting his hands up “No, it’s just that” he eyed you up and down a small smirk growing on his lips “I didn’t expect the infamous mole to wear a fluffy pink scarf.” you scoffed “Says the guy that is wearing skinny jeans.”. His mouth fell open as you laughed at your own comeback, he joined in shaking his head “Didn’t expect that.” he smiled back at you “Should we go?”. 

Starting the car, JM drove down the city “There is new info” your head snapped towards him, but his gaze stayed on the road as “Oh?”, “We might have found one of the Black Dove’s meeting places”. You smiled, this was good “Do they know that we know?” JM only shook his head “Great, this gives us a chance to see the members”. “Yeah, but it’s really hard to get a good look without being spotted. There are plenty of guards, and the area has close to no places to hide.”. Leaning back in your seat you let out a sigh “I guess we’ll just have to get there and see what we can do” JM hummed in agreement. 

Stepping out of the car you looked around, you were at the outskirts of the city, the only sign of people being the abandoned flats rotting away. JM walked around the car and stood beside you as he pulled on his backpack. You did the same “It’s around that building” he leaned closer to you and pointed to a flat right in front of the two fo you. You leaned closer, voice quiet “It’s not that high, maybe we could get to the roof and get a good look from there.”. JM nodded “Yeah, we could do that.”, treading slowly into the building the two of you made your descent up the stairs careful to not be spotted through the windows.

You panted slightly as you finally reached the rooftop, the cold air biting against your exposed skin. Jm crouched his bag now in his hand as he made his way towards the edge you followed laying on your stomach once you reached the edge. Peering out you spotted a small house standing alone, the area around it was completely flat giving no opportunity to hide. Lined around the building stood guards, your eyes slowly grew once you got a good look at the number of guards “I thought they were a small gang” you whispered to JM “They’re growing. That’s why we need to get rid of them as soon as possible.” Jm mumbled as he pulled binoculars out of his bag you watched him pull them to his eyes before unzipping your own bag. The lens was heavy in your hand as you brought the camera up to your eyes closing the other, JM turned to you as the shutter went off “Easier than remembering their faces” JM’s mouth curved into an O before he returned to his binoculars. 

“Do you see that guy?” JM leaned towards you, taking the binoculars that JM was basically holding up to your nose you peered through them. “That one right there.” his hand grasped your jaw lightly and turned it to the right, the touch sent electricity through your frozen body, and it took you a second to realise what you were looking at. Walking towards the guarded building was a hooded figure, followed by two masked males “They were here the other times we checked this place out.” you put down the bouncers. “They must be one of the higher level members” nodding to JM’s comment you snapped a picture of the hooded figure, you might not have a face, but it was at least a reminder to remember them. 

You had spent hours on the roof, the cold air having no mercy on the two of you and resulting in the both of you huddling together trying to stay somewhat warm. JM’s side was pressed against you, his breathing rocking his body further against you, the slow rhythm was relaxing, your eyes getting heavier with each passing moment. A sudden bang jerked your head up. Scanning the area, you saw no explanation for the sound. “They shoot someone inside the house” you followed JM’s vision towards the small building “They got rid of a member that they don’t need” your eyes fell on the guards lining the walls. The men turned their heads left and right scanning the area, weapons held high “No, it wasn’t planned, look at the guards” you picked up your camera as you spoke “something went wrong”, “They didn’t agree on something.” JM continued the sentence “mhmm”. Both of you laid in silence as you watched the building, waiting to see someone leave, dead or alive. 

“We should get going, the sun is coming up soon” JM patted you on the back as he spoke. The both of you made your way across the roof and down the stairs. Your body was aching, your torso and the front of your thighs were stone cold. Keeping close to the dark walls you jogged to the car, your stiff fingers struggling with the door for a moment. Once you were stretched out thankful for the soft cushion that was cradling your body, JM let out a chuckle “This was fun, huh?” you only scoffed back. Turning on the car JM let out an exaggerated gasp and stared at you in fake shock “This was our first date” you blinked at him for a moment before bursting out in laughter JM joining in. What a character you thought as you relaxed back into the cushion.

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

JM might be a boring “gang name” for Jimin but I didn’t want to give him some cringe name, but if you have any suggestions for any members let me know <3