#i tend to get confused on how long to make torsos though so its good to have sort of a base idea to go off of!

[dandyshucks]

putting myself through art bootcamp LMAO, here's my progress so far,,,,

i have No clue what im doing but im figuring things out !!! probably not the most efficient way to go about this but im having fun so i think it works well enough for me :3

[critical-goat]

The Brothers Animal Forms

I know animal forms are something talked about a lot, but... I also wanted to chip in my two sense on the matter <3

Also thank you to the Discord server pals for inspiring this. All chosen for fun rather than realism.

 general head canons

while they can choose what animal they turn into, it takes extra energy to maintain a form that isn’t their familiar animal

they can’t exactly how that form appears, so their appearance for that form is consistent each transformation, but not necessarily the same compared to other forms

Lucifer

His default animal form is, unsurprisingly, a peacock. He’s been known to occasionally turn into a bat or a wolf if the need arises.

His feathers are solid black and shiny and his tail feathers sport blindingly white eye stalks (if you stick him in a dark room they glow!!)

If he has to go with you while shapeshifted, he WILL park himself right on your shoulder like a cantankerous shoulder ornament. His tail feathers are always draped over your shoulder, looking like a kick ass cape and if he tucks his head around your neck just right, he could be mistaken for a weird and clunky accessory. He does eventually get to be too much for your shoulders (bc these bastards weigh like 20 pounds, its ok at first but after awhile it gets HEAVY)

Even as a bird, he has a stare that would make all but the hardiest turn tail and run and given that peacocks are dicks and prone to violence, no one would think twice about getting close. (it goes double when they realize holy shit its the freaking Avatar of Pride)

You’re going to be hard pressed to convince him to turn into anything else. His wolf form closely resembles Cerberus but don’t mention it or accuse him of loving his dog, he’ll deny everything.

If you try to convince people Lucifer is your emotional support animal, he will bite you when no one is looking. Affectionately and in a very unsexy manner.

Mammon

Default is a magpie, shiny black with a big white patch upon his chest. Sees no reason to turn into anything else. (I can see him taking a liking to ferrets just to hang off your shoulder like a floppy noodle)

Mammon refuses to NOT go with you, so he’ll sneak his little birdy butt into your bags when you go somewhere and hide out until you get somewhere he can (spy on) guard you from afar.

He’s found its a lot easier to snitch anything that catches his eye when he’s a bird, but he also doesn’t.... really have a way to distinguish bird instinct saying “oh, shiny. must keep” and “oh that’s something actually valuable” and at the end of the day he has more stuff that bird brain thought was valuable than things that are actually valuable.

Might explain why he tends to get away his thievery.

Leviathan

Itty bitty little snake!! Only alternative is Very Big snake. Bigger than a house. Could probably bite a ship in half (are we sure that’s a snake and not his true form??)

Narrow face and dark sleek scale. Longer than he is thick (wait are we still talking about snakes or- *bonk*)

Wraps himself around your neck like a scarf, and as much as he wants to hide away from prying eyes, could NEVER work up the courage to hide himself in your clothes, especially wrapping around your torso. What, are you trying to give him a heart attack or something!?

Please bring a sufficiently large enough bag for him to hide in, he can’t take all the stares.

Has the most boopable snoot. Do it. He’ll be upset if you do it in front of anyone.

Satan

Despite the current reputation of the unicorn in pop culture, there’s a reason they’re Satan’s familiars. The real ones are spiteful creatures and prone to fits of mischief.

But unicorns aren’t exactly..... inconspicuous or allowed into enclosed spaces. So he does have alternatives he often turns to instead. Go ahead and guess what he turns into...... If you guessed a cat, you are correct.

As a unicorn he’s a pale sandy color, with slender legs, hoof ‘feathering’, the traditional tufted tail, and a branching, jagged horn.

Cat Satan is rather petite, and ginger in color and the type of cat that will knock over a full glass of water for your attention. PET HIM DAMMIT. (Also has a boopable snoot, more receptive than Levi)

If you must bring him along as a cat, he will insist on trying to balance on your shoulder. Eventually gives up and settles for letting you cradle him oh so gently as you walk.

... It’s not that bad. Oh wait, is that Lucifer staring him down? Suddenly its become the best and only way to accompany you places. take that you cantankerous bastar-

Asmodeus

Scorpion bab. As much as he finds beauty in his insect familiar, they’re not for travel. Can usually be found as rabbit instead. (insert horny joke here) The prettiest little bun you’ll ever see. Has also been known to turn into a sparrow and a stag.

Tiny bun, can fit in your hands for optimal ease of carrying. Champagne colors, with cute lil droopy ears and a dark nose.

He insists you carry him with you one of two ways. On your shoulder and continuing to pet and cradle him or in a fashionable bag. No compromising on it either.

Adores the attention he gets from strangers. He is rather adorable, isn’t he? <3

Wait, Asmo stop charming people into giving you more pats you fiend.

Good luck getting untangled from all the crowding people.

Beelzebub

A fly. Has been known to turn into other bugs (mostly beetles) and not much else.

As a beetle, he’s a very bright and vibrant red color.

He’s followed you around as a fly before and it was ok for a bit.... but you keep mistaking him for a regular fly and swatting him, much to your horror. Its ok, he knows you wouldn’t have if you remembered (somehow that makes you feel worse than if he’d been upset)

Eventully he opted for the beetle instead (its not any less confusing some times but the number of swats goes down significantly)

You don’t know why, but for some reason you were possessed to bedazzle beetle Beel exactly once. He came out so very pretty. You even managed to tie a ribbon on one of his atennae. Very pretty indeed. You still have pictures of the incident.

Beel was a very good sport about it.

Belphegor

Cow man. He refuses to turn into anything else. Too much effort. Once he turns into a cow, you’ll have a cow on your hands for quite some time, finding that he doesn’t care enough to turn back just yet.

Fuzzy cow, very long fur, droopy ears, and big soulful eyes. Wicked dangerous horn, though. He’s tried to trample Lucifer a large handful of times, Diavolo at least twice, and tried to gore Satan once. (Satan won that battle and he decided never again)

You’re not getting him to go anywhere. Even if he could be convinced to physically moce somewhere, its not like anyone is gonna let a whole cow in.

And so, for a great many reasons, cow Belphie happens very rarely

He makes for a wonderful pillow though.

[vannybarber]

Let Me Teach You

Summary: Jake hasn't had any sexual experiences before, so you decide to take the next step in your relationship and start him off.

Virgin¡Jake Jensen x Reader

Warnings: SMUT, virgin Mary Jake, oral (m to f & f to m), cum play, cursing, MAJOR fluff, Jake being so innocent 🥺, you corrupting him 😏.

"If it gets too much or overwhelming, just tell me and we'll stop okay?" You turn to Jake, closing the bedroom door.

He looks at you and nods his head nervously.

It was obvious as soon as the subject was brought up the first time, he was uncomfortable about it until he finally told you he was a virgin.

You thought it was sweet and you even got a little cocky knowing you're the farthest he's gone in a relationship and would be his first. You constantly let him know that your relationship was based off of love and he didn't have to do this yet, but he insisted, also adding on that he didn't know how he resisted you this long anyway.

And here you guys were, about to do something so life changing for him. It was an honor that he trusted you with his body and you were gonna take care of him.

You walk to the bed and sit on it, him following your movements. His face is red and he's smiling so nervously. You giggle at his state and rub his ram tatted arm.

"You don't need to be nervous, honey. I'm gonna make this the best experience for you. I won't hurt you, I promise," you calm him, giggling at the last sentence.

"I know, it's just so weird that this is literally happening. I didn't think it would come honestly."

And he had a point. When he first asked you out, it was a complete mess. You were searching for a new keyboard for your PC and he was trying with much difficulty to get your number. He ended up knocking an entire row of keyboards on the floor. It was the most adorable thing ever. He ended up coming over and setting up your tech.

"Well you trust me, don't you?" You wiggle a little closer till your thighs are touching.

"Yes, I do." He wraps his arm around your waist and smiles at you. You cup his face and kiss the side of his mouth.

"Well then you don't have to worry." You plant your lips on his and move in sync with his. You pull him back to the headboard, mouths still connected.

You lie back on the bed and Jake climbs over on you. One thing he was really good at was kissing, which you also taught him as well. He almost enjoys it more than computers.

Your hands slide up his shirt and he disconnects to get it off. You admire his toned torso. He goes red again when he sees you staring.

"You're so perfect, sweetheart," you tell him, then continuing to kiss him again. He takes his own lead and trails his lips down your neck, concluding a soft moan from you.

"Can I take your shirt off, babe?" He looks at you for approval. Your heart jumps at his need for consent, although you've made it aware that he could do whatever he feels with you when he was ready. But he's such a gentleman and you loved it.

"Of course, baby", you get out, before he scrambles to remove your top. You sit up on your hands, completely bare on top and it legitimately took his breath away.

"Jake, breathe." You laugh, but cautiously wait for him to get himself together. He shakes his head before looking at you again.

"You wanna touch them? You can. Their just for you." You're getting really aroused by his shyness to seeing you in such a vulnerable state. He reaches his hands out and starts squeezing your boobs and playing with your nipples.

You bite your lip and give him a smirk with your eyes.

"Taste them if you want. Do whatever you like," you challenge him. He surprisingly, but quickly latched his mouth on them and starts flicking his tongue on the buds. You lean your head to the side and exhale. He switches over and does the same to the other one, biting it a tiny bit.

You squeal in shock and he pulls back fast.

"Did I hurt you? Was that too much? I'm sorry, I just got a little carried away! I didn't mean to-"

"Jake!" You cut him rambling, something he tends to do often. He stops and looks up at you hesitantly.

"It's alright, honey. It just caught me by suprise. I liked it, don't worry." You caress his cheek and kiss the corner of his mouth. He lets out a deep breathe.

"You wanna try something else?" you suggest.

"Yeah there is something- I well...I wanted to try. I...um saw it in a -a video?" He struggles to form a sentence.

"Jake, look at me. Just relax okay? This is safe place. Tell me whatever you need okay? Don't be nervous."

"Okay..well I wanted to try uh...or-al." He scrunched up his face, scared at your reaction. But you're overjoyed. You haven't received oral in you don't know how long. You grin at him, making his expression soften.

"You really want to?" He nods his head. "Well alright then!" You unbutton your pants and Jake yanks them down and off your feet. Heat is radiating off his body as he grabs the waistband of your panties.

"Go ahead, love." He drags them down effortlessly, with your help of lifting your lower half up. He chucks them behind him and runs his hands up and down his jean covered thighs.

You slowly open your legs and allow him to bathe in the glory that lies between your hips. He made a very audible gasp, which worried you for a second, but passed when you remembered the circumstances; he's never seen a pussy in real life.

"Its..so beautiful, oh gosh." You laugh and he chuckles with you.

"Thank you, but it would look so much better with your mouth on it." He meets your eyes, taken aback and you just wink at him. "Do you know how to do it?"

He gets all shy and looks down. "No, not exactly." You lift his chin up.

"Its super easy, Jakey. All you have to do it lick on my clit for a while and then I'll have my orgasm."

"Okay but where's the...um...clit?" You grab his right hand and hover it over your sopping pussy.

"You feel that little bud right there?" You take his index finger and plant it right on your clit. He nods his head.

"That's the clit, okay? Just keep licking there and don't stop."

"So right here?" He rubs a tiny bit on it and you throw your head back with a low "shit".

"Yes baby, exactly right there." He wastes no time laying on his stomach, face directly above your heat. You look at him once more.

"Whenever you're ready," you say, giving him the okay. He give you a smooth wink and licks a long strip to the top of your pussy. You suck in massive breath, completely thrown off. But he doesn't stop.

He maneuvers his tongue to find the bud that you helped him locate, which was now quicker to find. He flicks it 3 times and sucks on it, making a wet noise and a popping sound.

"Jake, what the actual FUUUCK!" You moan out, the top of your head literally in the mattress and he lifts his head in confusion. You jerk your head back up, with wide eyes.

"Did I do something wrong?"

"Nonononono! Baby, you're doing so good for me, just keep going. I love it. It's perfect."

He grins at your desperation before diving his head back in. This time his flicks his tongue faster and raisies his eyes up to you, just like he learned in the video.

You catch his eyes and arch your back in response. Out of nowhere, he sticks two of his fingers inside you, throwing you off once again. You sit up on your forearms trying to process everything.

He raises his head and bites his lips.

"Does that feel good, baby?" You nod your head and groan, words not coming so easily to you.

"Jake, oh my goodness, I'm gonna cum all over your face! Please don't stop baby, fuck!"

This motivates him ten times harder knowing he's going to make a girl come for the first time in his life. He picks up the speed of his tongue and moans, pumping his thick fingers quicker and even deeper.

Your abdomen heats up and prepares for the huge wave of an orgasm. You grip the sheets as it consumes your entire body, all the way to your toes.

"Jake, I'm cumming! I'm fucking cumming !" Your body slowly dies down from the intensity and your lower half starts feeling the sensitivity. Jake stops his movements and proceeds to lick up the mess he caused. You grab his face and force your lips on his, wanting to taste yourself, but mostly express how he just made you feel.

You moan in his mouth, chasing his tongue then pulling back after a few seconds.

"So I'm guessing I did pretty good, huh?" His face is absolutely tomato red and he's cheesing so hard.

"Pretty good ?! You did fucking amazing baby! And the fingers? I didn't expect that at all." You breathlessly laughed. "That was the best oral I've ever gotten. I am so damn serious. That was amazing for it to be your first time."

He can't even form words to express himself, but you can certainly feel it.

"You deserve something for that. Can I suck you, honey?" As you ask, you grab him through his shorts, palming him. He makes a tiny groan before nodding his head. You move from your position and he lies in your place.

Unbuttoning his khakis, you watch him and he watches you. Giving him a reassuring smile, you remove his shorts and rubs both hands on his hard on over his briefs. He balls his fists up and moans slightly.

You finally pull down his briefs to a suprise. His length hits his lower abdomen and you just freeze. One thing he also knew was that he was big. Especially in width.

You try to speak, but nothing comes out.

"Like the angle of the dangle?" You look up at him and he wiggles his eyebrows. You just shake your head laughing. For someone who has a small presence, he has an big present.

"I'm just hoping I can take all of it." And you were being completely straight up. He was really big. Not that you were complaining though.

"I guess we're gonna find out, aren't we?" He was getting really bold after his little performance on you and you were living for it.

"We sure are. Get comfy, baby." He wiggles his back and places his hands behind his head, waiting for your move.

You take the head of him and suck on it with a pop. It was your favorite part. Just swirling your tongue on it's surface got you off. You look up at him and he's already gone.

"Geez, Y/N." His head is thrown back and his toes are curled. You move down on him till his shaft is three quarters in your mouth. You gag on him, which makes you moan. This causes him to jerk his hips up, pushing himself further in you. You quickly bob your head and twist it around all while keeping eye contact.

"Baby, that feels wicked!" You almost laugh at his choice of words, even with tears forming in the bed of your eyelids. He grabs your hair and thrusts himself up in your mouth.

"I think I'm gonna come! Y/N, I'm gonna come! HELP ME!" You pull away from him and pump him while trying to calm him down.

"Jake, baby, it's okay. Just let go for me. Just let it happen. It'll feel so good, I promise." You go back down on him and move your head faster. Not a minture later, do you feel him twitch in your mouth. He let's out a long strain of what sounds like a groan/moan/scream. You feel his warm cum hit the back of your throat and slide down.

You release him from your mouth and get a good look at him, licking your fingers. He's completely disheveled and is clearly not in reality at the moment. You give him a second to come back down and straddle him.

"Oh my fucking goodness." You smile at his adorable reaction. "That," he jerks his head up at you, "was absolutely amazing! Did you swallow it?" He genuinely wonders and its so funny.

"Every last drop," you say, licking the palm of your hand.

"That is just so hot. What the actual shit." You lean down and devour him, desperate to have him inside you now. He grabs your ass and squeezes it, kissing you back.

"Want me to ride you, honey? I can ride you so good. You don't have to do anything. Just lay there and show me you like it, okay?" Again, he just nods, probably still shocked this all is even happening to him.

You rub your pussy, getting it wet all over and grab him, lining it up with your entrance. You slide down, wincing a bit as it stretches your pussy to adjust to his size. Once you're good you set your hands on his broad chest and start moving on him.

"Fuck, Y/N. You're literally squeezing me right now."

"You're so big, baby. I'm trying to take it as best as I can," you moan out, looking back and watch your ass jiggle on his pelvis. He grips your hips and slaps your right cheek, which encourages you to move faster.

"Oh my gosh, you're stretching me so good, Jake. Damn."

"I know that tight little pussy can take me. C'mon babe." You have no idea where he got this talk from, but he's doing it very well. You move so you're bouncing on his lap, skin slapping against his, making large echoes in the room.

"Shit, you're gonna make me cum, Daddy." You were so into it, you didn't realize you let it slip. But he didn't mind not one bit.

"Keep riding Daddy just like that. Want me to fill you up? Want Daddy to cum inside with pretty little pussy?" All you can do it let out a lengthy whine. You bounce harder at his words.

"Daddy, I'm gonna cumm" You let bliss take over you for a moment as you cum all over him. Just as you come down from your climax, Jake starts thrusting in you, chasing his own. You bend down and capture his lips, helping him out. You move down next to his ear, breathing into it.

"Cum for me, honey. I wanna feel you cum inside me. Take what you want." Holding on to his shoulders, Jake adds a few more hard thrusts at your 'encouraging' words.

"That's it, Daddy. Do it just like that for me. Fill my pussy up." And that does it for him. He squeezes your ass one more time before he shoots his load deep inside you. You moan at the feeling of his warm load filling you up. He goes limp, attempting to catch his breath.

You sit up and look at him, smiling proudly.

"Jakey, you did so amazing for me." You kiss his swollen cherry lips. He just sheepishly smiles. You can tell he's impressed with himself.

"I always knew you had it in you. Now it's inside me."

Let's just give a round of applause for Jakey. He learned so fast and so good. 🥺 I love him so much.

masterlist

[celestial-fucking-weeb]

NAGĀ!SERO

Hey y’all! This is a part of the Citrus Server Hybrid!AU Collab! The masterlist is HERE, please please please go check everyone’s pieces out!

A/N: I am fully aware that this is all over the place, ya girl is off her meds and will edit later. Please don’t tell me it sucks, I already know and I hate it, too.

SERO HANTA X F!READER

WARNINGS: 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, angst, smut, double penetration, aphrodisiac, interspecies miscommunication, size kink, breeding kink, mating, idk tell me if i missed anything

You had always heard stories about creatures in the forest; ones that eat humans, ones kidnap children, ones that would hurt you if you ever ran off by yourself. You didn’t believe them… Or maybe you did, but either way, the creatures could never be as scary as the life you already lived.

You had been taken prisoner when your coastal village was raided by pirates. Your clan’s viking warriors were off on a journey, leaving all of you oh so vulnerable with depleted numbers. They were going to kill you, like they did most of the others, but the pirate setting fire to everything in his path halted when he found you trembling under the rubble.

“Tomura, come see the new toy I found. Don’t you wanna keep her?”

“You sadistic bastard, how you get off to them crying like that never fails to make me sick. I don’t care what you do with her, Dabi, but I’m not cleaning up after you this time.”

They hauled you back to their ship, stripped you of everything and chained you in the hull. People came in and out, always different but always vile. You never spoke, you knew they wanted your screams. Overhaul, the captain, was the worst. You never knew when he was coming, and once he was there, you wondered what he wanted from you at all. Chained up, never touching you with anything but knives and his boots, not looking for your reactions… You wondered if he’d even notice if you stopped breathing. You dissociated for most of it, choosing instead to safeguard your mind, plan an escape.

About a year later, you found an opportunity in the carelessness of one of your captors. You docked someplace warm, someplace humid, maybe tropical? Toga had left your chains too loose after your last “date”, and had tossed the keys just a bit too close. As soon as she left, you had slipped your wrists out of the restraints, strained for the keys, and unlocked the shackles around your ankles. Not taking a moment to revel in the surreal feeling of being unchained, you listened until the heavy footsteps above you all faded into nothing, leaving the ship and most importantly: leaving you alone.

You ran. You ran so steadily, somehow comforted by the sounds of destruction getting further and further away. You found yourself blindly sprinting into a forest that looked nothing like your own, so damp and bright and warm. You kept running until you heard shuffling behind you, causing you to find the first thick vine hanging in your vicinity and clung to it as you climbed. Looking back, you see a simple boar grazing the forest floor. Sighing in relief, you relaxed a bit too soon, as the vine you had wrapped yourself around began to move.

Before you could react, you were wrapped up tightly in bands of muscle and brought towards the head of the- wait…- man? You had heard of nagā before, but the ones from your village’s stories were never described as so… tan, muscular, handsome. He didn’t look all that mean from the waist up, just the black, orange, and yellow scales trailing down his massive, strong tail seemed intimidating. He looked confused, concerned even, by your nakedness and panic stricken silence. Forked tongue flicking out to taste the air, smelling the blood and the abuse on your skin, seeing your quickly defeated body give up, and your mind resign itself to the comfort that at least you died free of your captors.

“Are you… okay?” The giant snake rumbles, human hand reaching towards your face and recoiling when you flinch.

You haven't spoken in months, your silence having been a security blanket, and you’re not ready to give that up. You do nothing, just look into his eyes and search for any sort of indication as to what he’s going to do. He loosens his grip a bit, just enough to slip down from his tree and head towards his hide- an old cave covered in ivy, moss, and little orange blossoms. He brings you in, and places you down on the ground before turning away to rummage through his things. He brings out water and bandages, along with some kind of salve that looks like a mixture of plants. You don’t reach for the water when he sets it near you, so he resorts to using the tip of his tail to bring it to your lips while his hands are busy tending to your wounds and gently rubbing the salve over your poorly healed scars. He offers you food, very confused when you don't seem to know what to do with the forest rodent he’s brought you, and decides on fruits he’s found. You don’t seem to want to do anything, not even going to sunbathe even though you’re obviously shivering.

THAT’S IT!!! SHE’S COLD! He thinks to himself, before wrapping his tail around you once more and bringing you outside to the rock where he typically warms himself. He gently places you down, uncoils you from his grasp, and gives you enough space to move as you please. You blink a few times, slowly realizing you’re free. He helped you? For no reason? He doesn’t know you…

“H-Hi… Thank… Thank you.” You mutter, looking away and blushing.

Cute… He thinks. “YOU TALK!!! What’s your name? I’m Sero, but you can call me Hanta! I was worried about you! Who are you? Why are you here? How did you get here?”

The line of questioning makes your head spin, and you try your best to answer before looking down and realizing you never found clothes. Blushing once again, you meekly gesture to your body and ask, “C-Clothes. I need clothes.” Hanta looks confused, but retreats to the cave and returns, bringing you a large piece of cloth that somewhat resembles a hemp blanket. It smells like oranges and spice, and you unconsciously snuggle into its comfort. Sero notices your calmed reaction to his scent and approaches you, gingerly grasps your ankle and picks up your leg, never having been so close to a human, and explores the strange angles your appendages bend.

“What are you doing?” You seem embarrassed, despite the number of people who've touched you before. This is too familiar, too intimate, almost too gentle.

“Tiny… Humans are… Small…”

You let him bend your limbs and play with your squish, strangely calm and trusting in his presence. He seems so enthralled by your body and how you move, so intrigued. That is, until he makes his way to massaging your plush thighs, causing a rush of arousal you hadn’t felt in what seemed like forever. He prys opens your legs to continue his ministrations, not knowing the smell of your lust would have him flicking his tongue out and his eyes turning to hyper-focused slits. He suddenly releases your legs, slithers around your back, and presses against you. He taps the top of your head with his chin and waits for your response. Not knowing what this means, but wanting him to continue his exploration, you lean back into him and whine quietly.

You have no idea what you’ve started.

Hanta leans down, pressing sweet kisses down the column of your throat and leaving scathing bites in all the right places. Aphrodisiac venom coursing through your veins, you don’t even register his muscular arms wrapping around your body and lifting you, carrying you back into his cave and up into his hammock. He wraps his strong tail completely around your torso and takes his time kissing and groping your soft body, mumbling “mate, mate, mate” into your heated flesh. He finally makes his way down to your mound, prying your thighs apart and diving straight in before you could question his reverent gaze.

“HANTAAA~” You practically screamed as his long tongue slipped between your folds, running along your clit and down to your clenching hole, his saliva increasing the heat coursing through your core. “M-More, please… More~”

“More, what?” He smirks against your heat. “Say it. Tell me I’m your mate and I’ll make sure you’re fucked dumb, yeah? My pretty little mate.”

You stutter for a moment, getting more desperate the longer his fingers drag along your wetness. “Mate… Please! I need you… I’m yours!”

“Good mate~” His tongue wriggles back into your cunt, and his fingers slowly move further down to stretch your tight ass, making you squeal in surprise. Your orgasm takes you by surprise, all thoughts abandoning your mind as you ride out your high on his face and fingers.

“Are you ready, little one?” He growls lowly, lining up two long, thick cocks with each hole. Your eyes widen in surprise, head clearing for a moment after your climax.

“T-two?! Wait wait wait, I’ve never… I can’t! Two?!”

“Oh, little mate, but you can and you will!” He punctuates his statement by spitting down onto your cunt, thick venom slipping down to your tight rim. You moan and grind against his cocks, aphrodisiac leading your body into a blissed out state of submission. “Gonna fill you up so good. I promise you’ll be so full, feel so good, little mate. Trust me?”

“Y-yes! Wanna be full, want my mate!” You beg and plead for him to push into you, hips bucking against him, trying to get him to satiate the burning want he’d created. It isn’t until you thread your fingers through his hair and wrap your legs around his waist that he thrusts into you completely.

“That’s it, wrap around me like that. So tight, so warm… Fuuuck!~” Sero pants, chest pressed tightly to yours and face tucked into the crook of your neck, licking and sucking deep marks over your pulse point.

You’ve never felt so full, your body strangely welcoming the pleasurable stretch of your holes, pulling him deeper and deeper until you can feel him in your belly with every roll of his powerful hips. Your whimpers and tears only seem to spur him on, drawing orgasm after orgasm from your body.

“S-Shit, keep squeezing around me like that. Come on, little one, I know you have one more for me. Cum with me, I wanna feel you cum one more time. Gonna breed you, gonna fill you so good. Come on, pretty mate- fuck- cum for me~” He reaches down and pinches your overstimulated clit between two fingers and bites down on your neck one last time, sending you over the edge with a cry of “breed me, breed me, breed me!” and nails digging into his back.

“Mine! My mate, pretty little mate. Breed mate, all mine!! Gonna- gonna… Ah~” Hanta’s words steadily fell from his lips as he released deep inside your holes, belly bulging from the sheer amount of seed he spilled into you.

Utterly exhausted and dreamily floating off, you cling to him. Sero wraps you up in his tail and lays back into his hammock, keeping you as close as he can. When you snuggle into him, he whispers little praises into your hairline, a constant stream of “so good, pretty mate, all mine, i love you, so perfect, did so well, took me so well, such a good mate”.

The next day, you wake up surrounded by soft cloth, feathers, fruits, fluffy furs, a dozen shiny objects and pretty dried flowers. You sit up, looking around frantically for your mate before your eyes settle on a sheepish-looking Sero, wiggling nervously around the cave.

“Um… Do you… like it? I made it for you… I just- please tell me you like it!” He shrinks himself a bit, arm coming up to palm the back of his neck.

“Oh, is this a… nest? It’s- It’s very nice. Thank you, Hanta!” You smile softly at him, curling up into your nest and reaching out for him.

“MATE!!! I’m so happy you like it, I was so nervous!!! My mate. You can stay here all the time, so I can protect you, forever! My pretty little mate.~” He climbs into the nest and coils himself around you, content to guard you.

Maybe this time, being kept isn’t so bad.

[red-doll-face]

Here is a request for slashers if they're open. My brain does a thing where I am affectionate w a person but if I get nudged away (even if it's just to readjust the position), it goes "oh no. They don't want u to touch them. Do not touch ever again or they will get mad at u. U disgust them." Even tho touch is my love language & it hurts, I just won't touch. If confronted, I will get confused & panicky cuz "u didn't want me to touch? Im respecting ur wishes? Did I miss something?" Its a mess.

Requests are indeed open, I’m sorry I take foreverrr to do these but i hope u enjoy! I don’t know what to call this tho. For simplicity’s sake I’m calling this nervous reader lmao, idk what else to call these.

Slashers x gn nervous Reader

Jason Voorhees:

Jason can very much relate to the feeling. When he first meets you, he’s sure that you’re frightened. He restrains from being too close to avoid coming off as overbearing, doesn't want to touch you because if you flinch he’ll be so hurt. He just assumes he disgusts you. Based on the reaction all of his other victims have when they see him, he’s sure you’ll probably be the same.

Once Jason is sure that you don't feel that way, he’s a cuddle monster. He wants to be close all of the time, holding hands, letting you sit in his lap, you name it. He’s so starved and quickly decides that touch is his love language too. He’s not even sure how he’s lived this long without it.

The only time I can see Jason maybe gently sort of setting you down elsewhere and walking off is when he senses strangers on the property of what once was Crystal Lake. He’s out the door before he can even see your hurt expression, Which is worse because this might lead you to jump to conclusions.

If you distance yourself from Jason, he immediately is thrown off. He can’t directly ask you if he’s done something wrong and when he tries to initiate affection with you and you don’t reciprocate whole heartedly, he’s at a loss.

He’ll get on one knee while you sulk on the couch and give you a silent plea to tell him what's wrong. You can panic and try and avoid it but he is certain there's something going on and he wants so badly to know what he’s done to put you off. You tell him and he immediately is shaking his head no, he could never be mad at you, never be disgusted with you. You’re the most breathtaking person he’s ever had the pleasure of holding, the first, most likely.

Jason nods because he understands how you feel. In the future, he’s persistent about how you feel when he untangles himself from you, making sure you’re ok.

Michael Myers:

In the later stages of your relationship, Michael is insatiable when it comes to being in contact with you. For a long time, towards the start of your relationship, he didn’t like it. It felt weird. All of the touch he's experienced prior was so clinical and sterile that he doesn’t quite know how good touch is supposed to feel. He’s so touch starved that he’s almost positive he doesn't even need it.

Slowly, he builds a tolerance for it, much like one does with alcohol, constantly checking his boundaries and letting him control the situation and he’s all for movie night, huddled up on the couch, or waking up with his head on your chest. His own personal pillow.

There are, however, moments when his need to make someone tremble with fear and then blodgeon them to death with a can opener from their own kitchen becomes too strong, so he tries to keep away from you. In the past, he might have used you to satisfy similar desires of a sexual nature and may have really hurt you but he knows that it’s not always enjoyable to you.

Then, you stop touching him. Much like Jason, he starts to think you’ve become sick of him. Sick of his coldness, his muteness, his withdrawn demeanor. Maybe you’ve moved on and he tries to tell himself he doesn’t care but he doesn't think he can see himself touching anyone but you now.

It gets to the point where he comes home one day and you look heavily troubled, expressions he’s seen on your face before, only in the event that something terrible has happened. You ask to speak to him and he obliges.

You explain that you don’t think this relationship is working, that you’re pretty sure he’s disgusted with you and how difficult this event is because you didn't even want to talk about it but it's been hurting you for too long.

His response is to stand up very slowly, pick you up and lay down with you over him, simply laying there. Hopefully, knowing you’re the one person he would ever allow to participate in this intimacy is enough to show you that you mean more than you think you do to him.

RZ Michael Myers:

This Michael is more perceptive to your touch than his counterpart, your touch sends little shivers down his spine and as soon as he gets pretty used to it, he’s eager for more. This also takes some time but significantly less. He’s enamored with the idea of returning to a somewhat normal life. Your affection grounds him in that fantasy as much as being a murderer might take him out of it.

As he establishes a relationship with you, he may even be the one to start touching you instead of the other way around. He’s read books and always wondered what it might feel like to have someone genuinely touch him without fear in their eyes. Without malice.

An unsuccessful ‘day at work’ might have Michael feeling a little het up though. He can be moody and more rageful. Neither you nor his hobbies can calm him. He seems colder than usual in these states and can come off as very standoffish.

So when you try and touch him and he shrugs your hand off his shoulder, he can’t or isn't in the state of mind to address your frown and worried look. Michael, instead stomps off somewhere to be alone for a while; maybe take his anger out on something else. Some unsuspecting soul or maybe even a poor animal in the wrong place at the wrong time.

After he’s calmed down some, he returns and almost forgot about that sad little gleam in your eye before he left. Michael remembers when he sees you blankly staring at the TV, pointedly avoiding his gaze even as you utter a weak welcome home. It’s not very welcoming. He sits stiffly beside you, watching you from the corner of his eye. You’re closed off from him and he doesn't like it at all.

Migrating towards you slowly, he eases you into a familiar hug, his big bear hugs that are a little tight but inviting all the same. His huge torso and long arms seem to swallow you in his warmth. You hardly reciprocate. You look a little surprised. Though he never addresses it verbally, (which is probably better for you) Michael offers a single glance that communicates everything he needs to say. Don't ever think that again.

Thomas B. Hewitt:

Thomas’ self esteem issues and self image are not good. He honestly doesn’t like to imagine what he looks like to other people unless it can be as a threatening man you don’t fuck with. Meeting you, he realizes that it’s good to protect his family but he’d rather you not see him as someone only capable of harm. Tries his best to get the point across that while Hoyt may be adamant that horrible things happen to you, he’s not going to let them.

Thomas has received affection but always a familial affection. A pat on the back from Monty, proud claps to his shoulders from uncle Charlie, and hugs and kisses from his dear Mother. Nothing so foreign as a strangers touch over his arm or a soft embrace.

Unfortunately, Thomas can get reactive when you attempt to touch him without his mask on. He’s absolutely settled on the false reality that you’ll see his face and immediately decide that you never want to touch him again. Interacting with you with his bare face? That's a no for Thomas.

He puts on his mask that covers the scarred skin over his face and you look dejected. He was preparing for you to pressure him but instead finds himself trying to find out why you won’t touch him now. It’s not his face, is it? You respond with your reasoning. Thomas is so confused. How could you think that you disgust him? That he doesn’t want you to touch him?

He’s quicker than the others and immediately sweeps you up into his arms and holds you as close as humanly possible. Feeling disgusting and like some sort of burden is a feeling he’s so familiar with and if he can take it away from you, he will.

Will aggressively initiate touch with you for the next week or so just to solidify the fact that he cares about you and won't reject you just as you didn’t reject him.

Bubba Sawyer:

Bubba is a great cuddle buddy and partner. Hugs are his favorite and he hugs his brother all the time, lifting both Nubbins and Chop Top into the air for some brotherly love. If you’re smaller than them he’s all about picking you up and perhaps a little rough housing with you. He’s careful though or at least there are attempts made to be careful

Bubba, though he could easily spend the whole day doing nothing and everything with you, has work. Chores, butchering. Cooking, and tending livestock. Plenty to do at the sawyer house and he does most of it. Suffice to say there are times when you want to lather attention all over him yet he has to go back to work.

So caught up in work that he doesn't get what's going on til way later, when you’ve had time to stew in your emotions, firmly telling yourself that Bubba is annoyed by you probably. He’s baffled and confused at your silence, your crossed arms. The little furrow in your brow. He can already tell there’s something upsetting you.

Honestly, Bubba is so affectionate I can’t see him being the kind of person even capable of alluding to the fact he might be disgusted by you. How, if all he wants to do is love you? You may bring it up as a joke that you thought he didn’t like you and he almost seems offended. Not like you?

Bubba can squash any feelings you may have about that and then some. He will not let you drown in insecurities, not on his watch. This man will do everything in his power to make you feel beautiful because you really are.

I’m sorry these are super long but thanks for requesting!

[sehunniepotwrites]

caught in your web | m.l

🕷SYNOPSIS— in which you can’t stand mark getting hurt anymore, not when you’re madly in love with him 🕷GENRE— mcu!au, spiderman!au, fluff, suggestive  🕷PAIRING— spiderman!mark lee x person in the chair!reader (gn) 🕷WORD COUNT— 1771

🕷WARNINGS— mentions of violence and battles, cleaning wounds, making out (lmao)

 🕷AUTHOR’S NOTE—day two of my mark lee breakdown and i came up with this. i have been in love with the idea of spider!mark ever since i’ve read @xiaomoon​‘s leap of faith and i finally got to write my own version of peter marker ;;; hope y’all enjoy this! (briefly edited, some mistakes may remain!)

—🕸🕷—

You don’t exactly remember how and when it all went down, but to sum it all up, your best friend of all time is Spiderman and you’re his person in the chair. You’re the J.A.R.V.I.S. to his Tony Stark or are you his F.R.I.D.A.Y.? You can’t be his Karen because his Karen is the user interface of his current suit— never mind that, that’s not really relevant. 

The most important takeaways from this are that:

your best friend, Mark Lee, is the newest addition to the Avengers

you’re the mastermind behind the computer that guides him through New York City

And lastly, you’re in love with that dumbass of a superhero. 

At first, you were mad that Mark didn’t tell you. Then, you were quite surprised that he kept a secret from you for that long— that boy has a hard time keeping his mouth shut. 

When you first found out, Mark in full superhero garb entered his room through the window while you were impatiently waiting for him on his bed with a Death Star Lego set in hand. You dropped the almost complete set out of shock and it shattered to pieces. Mark, with his red and black mask in hand and a suit that clung to his surprisingly fit body so perfectly (like honestly, when did he look like that?), made you promise that you would never tell his Aunt May. You linked your smaller pinky with his own, swearing not to tell but on one condition— that you could be his person in the chair.

Being behind-the-scenes while in the chair is extremely thrilling. Sure, you have no superpowers to contribute to the fight but you have the brains and the technology to help Mark in any way you possibly could. You tell him the best possible route with Karen backing you up and Mark will blindly follow. You are his tracker, eyes in the sky, and his safety net—you have his complete trust.

The worst thing about being his person in the chair, though, is watching Mark get hurt in action and knowing there is not much you can do about it without physically being there. Watching the person you love get hurt—no matter how enhanced their body was—is beyond taxing. You never know if he’s going to make it and it kills you inside when you’re barking commands into your headset, calling for Karen to activate the best mode to get Mark out of the battle site. It tears you to absolute pieces and that’s how you ended up here, in your bedroom with violent tears running down your cheeks.

Mark is laying down on your bed with his torso resting against your lap. His mask is discarded somewhere on your bedroom floor while the top half of his suit is peeled off his injured body. You’re crying, hands trembling as he’s gasping for air and wincing every time you attempt to clean a wound. 

“How could you be so reckless, Mark?!” you scold him through a hushed whisper. You press another alcohol-soaked swab onto a cut. He hisses, his hand squeezing your knee to keep him from screaming. “You’re an idiot!”

Mark is groaning, body twisting and turning while sinking his teeth onto his bottom lip. You can tell he wants to scream but your parents are home and you don’t want them to walk into this gruesome sight. They think you’re just up to your usual game playing. 

“I had to!” Mark argues back. His nose is scrunched up and you can just see how much pain he’s in. You want to do nothing but kiss the pain away but there were more pressing matters to attend to, like disinfecting all the cuts scattering his body. “They were heading this way, to this neighborhood. To you!”

God, you hate how headstrong and stubborn he is at times. “And that matters why? I can easily reroute you and you know that! For some reason, you chose not to listen and now you’re badly hurt and you’re bleeding a lot and I can’t even take you to the hospital and—”

“Hey, hey, hey, no, no, no. None of that, okay? It’s fine, I’m fine.” He must’ve sensed how the panic was seeping through your veins with his spidey senses or maybe Mark just knew you well enough. 

“See?” Mark gestures to an arm you had already patched up. The cuts you already tended to look so much better than before and the bruises are healing faster than the normal rate. 

“I’ll be fine in a day or two, bubs,” he reassures you with a pained smile. That didn’t reassure you at all.

“That’s not the point!”

“Then what— ow, fuck, you’re pressing too hard, ow— what is?” Mark tries to wriggle away and you press a hand onto his firm chest (oh my god, seriously, how is he built like this?) to keep him still. 

You’re done dressing his wounds and you take in the number of supplies you’ve used to tend to him. 

The battles out there are getting worse and the teenager just comes up more battered and bruised. You don’t know much longer you can take seeing your best friend like this. You’re so caught up in him and you can’t leave. You feel as if Mark shot some of his web fluid at you and suddenly, you’re just trapped in this ridiculous web of love and you can’t fight your way out of it. 

“If you keep acting recklessly, there will be no more friendly neighborhood Spiderman!” You can’t stand the thought of Mark being gone. The world out there was tough to live in as it is but a world without your idiotic best friend with superpowers? You can’t even imagine it. 

“What if I want to be more than that?” he asks, his voice dropping lower than his usual volume, 

“Well, you can’t be more than that if you’re dead!” you hiss back at him. “And that’s something I don’t want to see!” 

He flinches at your tone.

“No, wait— ugh, that’s not what I meant,” he lifts a hand to run through his hair. “What if I want to be more than just your friendly neighborhood Spiderman?”

“Mark, I really don’t get what you’re saying.” You look down at him, confusion buzzing through your features. “And that’s saying a lot.”

“What if I wanted to be more than just Spiderman to you? Because— I don’t know, that’s all I’ve wanted for a while now? Besides, like doing this whole Avengers-slash-saving the world thing?”

You blink at him, trying to process his words as Mark rambles on, his bare back still pressed against your thighs. 

“Do you even get what I’m saying? I don’t think I’m making any sense. Shit, how do people do this?” Mark continues as you try to make sense of his ongoing rant.

“Do what?”

“Confess to the person they like? Is there, like, a step-by-step guide or something because I don’t think I’m doing this right,” he replies fairly quickly before he realizes what came spilling out of his mouth. Mark’s face turns as red as his suit and his eyes are as wide as his mask’s lenses; you’re sure your face is mirroring a similar look. 

You swallow and clear your throat, trying to organize the many revelations running through your scattered brain. “So, let me get this straight.”

“Yeah, uh, sure,” Mark almost squeaks in disbelief. 

“You almost died in my arms just now and you’re worried about the proper way to confess to me?” You laugh in disbelief. What a typical Mark thing of him to do. 

“Well, uh, yeah, ‘cause dude, I’m pretty sure you know this but I haven’t done this sort of thing before.” He’s avoiding eye contact, clearly embarrassed by the situation. His hands are playing with the ends of his suit, a tell-tale of his nervousness.

You grab his hands, pulling them away from ruining the fabric, and squeeze them gently. “You’re such a nerd,” you tease fondly. 

“Hey!” he yells back at the insult.

“But it’s a good thing that I, um, like nerds,” you manage to cough out, a heat seeping through your cheeks. Your confession is barely above a whisper but Mark’s enhanced senses help him pick up your words perfectly. His body freezes for a second before his head snaps up.

Mark’s brown irises lock onto yours, hope swimming through them. “You—you do?” 

“Yeah,” you let out a breathy laugh. Your hand runs up the side of his neck to comb through his hair. You feel him shiver at your touch and you shyly smile at him. You’re nervous but you shouldn’t be—Mark’s your best friend. 

“There’s this one nerd running around the city in a red and black suit. Ever heard of him?”

He’s laughing at this point and all your worries disappear. “Yeah, I think I have. He’s pretty cool.”

“I think he’s pretty cute, too” you confess, dipping your head down to move a bit closer to him. Mark meets you halfway, his hand wiggling its way to clasp the back of your neck. Your heart is beating so hard against your chest and the butterfly wings are tickling your stomach at the proximity. 

You touch your forehead to his, nuzzling them together and he lets out a deep chuckle that sets your heart ablaze. “I guess you could say I got caught in his web,” you tease. You hear him suck on his teeth.

“Just kiss me already.”

“Only if you promise that you’ll listen to me and be more careful out there,” you reply, boldly pressing a kiss by his mouth. He chases your lips and you quickly pull away.

“Ah, promise me.”

“Promise, yes, I promise,” he groans. “Just let me kiss you.”

The word “okay” barely leaves your mouth before he pulls himself up to press his body against yours. Mark slots his lips against yours and you sigh into him, breathing in his scent. It starts off as innocent but the kiss takes a turn when Mark breaks away to slide off your lap. He keeps his hand behind your head and lowers you down to lie completely straight on your bed.

Mark climbs on top, knees on either side of your hips as he captures your lips again. Your fingers fly to his hair and he lets out a noise as your nails scratch his scalp. “Love you,” he whispers into the kiss. 

“Love you, too,” you smile as you tug him even closer. 

Yeah, you love being Spiderman’s person in the chair but you think you love being Mark Lee’s person a hell of a whole lot more.

[hongism]

mists of celeste ➻ 26.5

➻ pairing: this chapter centers around yeosang x wooyoung ➻ genre: space au, pirate au, space pirate!ateez, angst, eventual smut, fluff ➻ Word Count: 3.6k ➻ Rating: M ➻ Warnings: language, violence, guns and weaponry, blood, future warnings tba ➻ summary: Sneaking aboard the ship of a renowned space pirate may not have been the best idea, but you’ll have to make do with what fate has handed to you

⇐ previous | next ⇒ | masterlist

✧✧✧ act four ➻ part 1.5

​​​​

“Hey, did you take my green blanket?”

“Hm?”

“My green blanket! The one Jongho got me for my last birthday?” Wooyoung puffs his cheeks full of air when his companion merely squints at the ceiling rather than responding. “You’re using it right now, aren’t you? Under the comforter? You just took my blanket, huh?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Yeosang hums, pulling the sheets up closer to his chin. Wooyoung strains to see if there’s a flash of green underneath, but he isn’t able to catch anything at this angle. “Besides, what good are birthday presents for someone who doesn’t even have a birthday?”

Wooyoung can’t resist the urge to roll his eyes. The question is far from offensive or harsh; Yeosang tends to be blunt more than anything else, and he does have a valid point in the question since Wooyoung truly has no recollection of when his birthday is. Although it was Yeosang’s idea to claim his birthday as the day he was set free. The warmth in Yeosang’s eyes when he suggested that was far too enticing to say no to, so Wooyoung agreed without batting an eye. 

“You are a terrible liar, Kang Yeosang,” he hisses out, edging closer to the bed. Yeosang lifts a brow but doesn’t budge.

“I don’t lie.”

“You omit the truth, and that’s the same as lying.” Wooyoung lifts a finger to jab it in the blond’s direction, unamused when the other cracks a small knowing smile. 

“How so?” He inquires nonetheless. The teasing gleam to his gaze doesn’t let up for a second.

“You know how so!” Wooyoung protests quickly. He pulls himself further onto the bed, tossing all his weight onto Yeosang’s torso, and the other man releases a groan from the sudden pressure. “I hope you pass out, you thief.”

“God, have you gained weight? You seem heavier than usual.”

“Heavier than usual? Heavier than usual! Why you little–” Wooyoung reaches behind Yeosang’s head and snatches up a pillow before smacking it hard against the Elitist’s face. Yeosang manages to bring his arms up in time to block a majority of the impact, but Wooyoung’s superior position allows him to work around his arms and hit him on the crown of his head. “I hope that feels heavier than usual too!” 

Yeosang huffs out a laugh in response. He snatches the pillow from Wooyoung’s hands when Wooyoung next brings the cushion down, pushing it to the side and grabbing hold of his wrists with such ease that Wooyoung’s heart practically jumps in his chest. Yeosang twists his body despite being caught under the sheets, and all of a sudden Wooyoung is the one being pinned to the bed, red rushing up his neck at the intimacy of the position.

“H-Hey,” he mutters as he glances away from Yeosang’s prying gaze. 

“I didn’t mean it in a bad way, Woo.”

“I know, I was just teasing you!” Wooyoung stretches his grin, cheeks scrunching up as he beams at Yeosang without a care in the world. The Elitist doesn’t seem pleased with his quick response though and continues his train of thought a moment later.

“You could afford to put on a bit more weight at that. And we could spend more time in the training room if you’d like. I’d be hap–”

“Oh hush, you.” Wooyoung blows air into Yeosang’s face to shut him up, and the tactic works out rather well for him seeing as Yeosang blinks against the assault with confusion painting his features. “Unlike you, my stomach was never fit for a prince’s diet or a royal meal plan. But I can eat a bit more if that would make you happy!”

“I like you just the way you are,” Yeosang hums in response. He speaks the words so softly that Wooyoung hardly catches them but when he does, the flush on his cheeks deepens to a scarlet. 

“You can’t tease me about my weight, tell me that it wouldn’t hurt to put on a few pounds, then say something like that,” he grumbles under his breath, shoving a hand against Yeosang’s shoulder. The attack is half-hearted at best, and Yeosang laughs it off without too much care. 

The Elitist lets the sound fade into silence, leaving his gaze to trace over every millimeter of Wooyoung’s features. The heat in his state is not lustful or seeking anything more than the gentle peace hanging in the air between them, but Wooyoung still finds himself flustered more than anything else. 

“What are you doing that for?” Wooyoung wriggles a bit under Yeosang’s weight. He doesn’t manage to budge the man even an inch, completely stuck under both his grasp and gaze. 

“Let me admire my lover in peace.”

Wooyoung squeals at the nonchalant attitude Yeosang holds and the way he says the words like he’s never been more sure of anything in his life. He frees one hand from Yeosang’s hold and snatches up the same pillow from before, sending it cascading into the side of Yeosang’s head. 

“Excuse me, wh—”

“You’re excused!” Wooyoung interrupts before smacking Yeosang once more for good measure. Yeosang huffs and rolls off Wooyoung to escape the relentless attacks with the pillow, not bothering to fight back. As he slips out of the way, Wooyoung catches a flash of green under the black comforter. “You did steal my blanket!”

“Is that truly what you’re worried about right now?” Yeosang slips off the bed to stand upright, hands coming to rest on his hips as he blinks down at Wooyoung. 

“Yes because you lied to me!”

“All I said was that I didn’t know what you were talking about.” 

Wooyoung pulls himself into a sitting position and inches ever closer to where Yeosang stands by the edge of the bed. He pouts out his lower lip as far as he can in a desperate attempt to win the man over but it is to no avail because Yeosang just arches a brow and smiles a little.

“You look so cute when you act hurt.”

“Make it up to me and I won’t be hurt,” Wooyoung pleas with wide eyes. Yeosang slips a finger under his chin and lifts him up a bit more. Wooyoung follows the motion but Yeosang dips away at the last second, lips merely ghosting over his, and the younger of the two gasps at the audacity of the other’s teasing. “You are absolutely cruel!”

“I can’t help myself when you look as cute as you do.” Yeosang begins to pull back, but Wooyoung isn’t about to let him get away with it this time, so he reaches up to snag the man by the collar, yanking him back down so hard that Yeosang has to grip the mattress to keep from crushing Wooyoung. 

“Do it properly.”

“And if I don’t?”

“I will find someone who can do it prope–” Pressure invades Wooyoung’s mouth, and he doesn’t get the chance to finish that train of thought thanks to Yeosang’s lips crashing into his. Wooyoung sighs into the kiss, a content smile pulling at the corners of his mouth, and sits back to let Yeosang do most of the work. Yeosang doesn’t stay long, releasing Wooyoung’s lips with a wet pop and harsh glare that doesn’t scare Wooyoung in the slightest. Huffing out a laugh, the dark-haired man brings a thumb to his lips and wipes at the excesses saliva Yeosang left there. “Better.”

It is still difficult to ignore the dull pain that blossoms in his chest when his lips part from Yeosang’s, but he has at least gotten better at not letting that pain shine through his features or show in the slightest. Whether Yeosang doesn’t notice or he is merely pretending to ignore it, Wooyoung does not know, but he does not particularly care either. Not talking about it saves them both from further pain that neither of them wants. 

“I put up with too much of your teasing.” Yeosang readjusts his tunic, pulling the white silk back into its original resting place. Even with all the man’s insistence that he hates every part of his past, he sure does wear many regal and fancy clothes. Not that Wooyoung is complaining in the slightest because Yeosang just looks so pretty: blond hair that falls in soft waves around his face just long enough to be pulled back into the smallest ponytail, dark brown eyes with gold flecks throughout them, that precious birthmark hiding beside his eye that his side bangs cover all too often. The silk regalia he always wears on casual days like these only add to that beauty. Wooyoung could spend hours sitting back like this and staring at him. “Perhaps that should be your next lesson.”

“Hm, maybe, but if I really wanted to, I would have you pinned to the bed right now. Especially with how pretty and delicate you look in that shirt.” Wooyoung grins a bit too cheekily, and Yeosang rewards him with a sharp flick to the forehead. “Ow!”

“You were asking for it.”

“You are oh so cruel and harsh, Prince Kang,” Wooyoung laments with a dramatic flair to his tone. He throws himself back onto the bed, releasing an all too fake sob as Yeosang just rolls his eyes and ignores the other’s antics. 

“You know I hate it when you call me that.”

“Would you rather me call you sir? Perhaps while you have me face do–” Yeosang darts forward, clapping a hand over Wooyoung’s prattling mouth without hesitation, and he glances around the room nervously even though it is empty aside from the two of them.

“You’re too bold,” he hisses before pulling his hand back and letting Wooyoung grin happily to himself. 

“I’m just trying to get to the point here! You promised to teach me more today, and I haven’t heard you breathe a word about that, so hurry up mister!”

“You and your teasing mouth have prevented me from doing so actually.” Yeosang catches Wooyoung by the chin, and he inches the man’s head up with just his index finger. Wooyoung’s smile stretches wider in defense, and the other can only manage a deep sigh as pulls away. “What is it you want to learn today? Anything particular in mind?”

Wooyoung slides himself over to the edge of the bed and tosses his legs over the edge. He taps at his chin as he thinks, trying (and failing) not to get distracted by the soft expression Yeosang wears currently. 

“Um, you said – you said you had to go to lots of dances when you were younger right?”

“I did, yes,” Yeosang hums. He doesn’t try to hide the smile that overtakes his lips as Wooyoung speaks, and once again, Wooyoung finds himself slipping further into distraction. 

“W-Well then, teach me to dance!” Wooyoung hops to his feet and looks Yeosang in the eye. They stand at about the same height; perhaps Wooyoung is only a centimeter shorter at best, but Yeosang would most likely say it’s more like two or three centimeters. 

“We don’t have music though?” Yeosang’s voice lifts at the end of his sentence, changing the statement into a question, and Wooyoung slaps the flat of his hand down hard against Yeosang’s shoulder.

“Do we really need music? Isn’t it all about – um, I don’t know how dancing works actually.”

“Counts, Woo, it’s all about counts.”

“Okay, see! That’s not music.”

“But it’s counts related to the tempo of the music,” Yeosang hums but he slips an arm about Wooyoung’s waist nonetheless and tugs him closer. “I suppose coming up with a tempo of our own wouldn’t be too difficult.”

“Wait, which part are you teaching me?” Wooyoung inquires as Yeosang guides one of his hands up to rest near his bicep. The blond clasps the other tight in his own hand, pulling it out to the side to hang in the open air.

“The typically female part.”

“I want to learn the male part!” Wooyoung protests, fist balling around the fabric of Yeosang’s delicate shirt. 

“You want me to dance to the female’s part?”

“Would it truly be the first time you haven’t taken control?” Wooyoung quips, and Yeosang’s grip on his waist tightens to a point where the younger yelps.

“Don’t think with such a dated mindset, Woo. There are many things a man can do from that position, and I would be happy to teach you those next,” Yeosang purrs, pressing his lips to the shell of Wooyoung’s ear. The younger releases some sort of noise that sounds something like a squeak and a gasp mashed together. Yeosang revels in the sound, and he tosses his head back as a bout of laughter overtakes his body. The sound is crisp and clear in a beautiful way. Wooyoung cherishes it while it lasts, knowing that the Elitist is only ever so relaxed and carefree like this when they are alone. 

Yeosang nudges Wooyoung’s hand off his shoulder and catches hold of it before it can fall uselessly by his side. He pulls it to his waist in attempts to urge Wooyoung to take hold of him, and Wooyoung is quick to do so, folding his fingers around Yeosang’s lithe waist.

“You can’t expect to dance properly while standing that far away from me, Wooyoung,” Yeosang grumbles under his breath. He hooks a hand onto Wooyoung’s shoulder and tugs him forward until their chests have no space between them. Wooyoung sucks in a sharp breath, stifling a smile when he sees the flush that rises up Yeosang’s neck as he tightens his grip on the man’s waist. 

“Did all the princesses have the pleasure of dancing so close to you?” Wooyoung hums. His eyes remain wide and innocent, but Yeosang knows better than to believe the innocence there. 

“You are the only one I would ever allow this close to me.” 

Wooyoung is pleased with the response even if it catches him off-guard because he was honestly expecting another jibe from the man. The small statement has more than one meaning, and Wooyoung basks in all the possibilities, taking a moment to just absorb Yeosang’s warmth and presence. 

“Alright, you don’t get to ignore my instructions just because I’m letting you lead this one time. I expect you to pay attention to every detail.”

“This one time?” Wooyoung laughs.

“I won’t let you lead again after this.”

“Oh, you’ve said that before but–”

“Think with your brain not with your dick, Jung Wooyoung!” Yeosang squeezes hard at the muscle under Wooyoung’s shirt, and he releases a yelp from the sharp pain that spreads quickly through his body. 

“Okay, okay! I’m thinking with my head! And not that one!” 

“Remind me why I put up with you.”

“Because you love me?” Wooyoung grins, and while Yeosang doesn’t provide a verbal response, he has one in the way Yeosang smiles before clearing his throat and standing up a bit straighter.

“Just move with me. It’s rather simple to get the hang of, but there will be a lot of stepping on toes until you get a feel for your partner.” Wooyoung’s lips don’t even part a centimeter before Yeosang sends him a pointed glare that has him snapping his lips back together with no further comment. “When my right foot moves backward, step forward with your left. We can work up to you leading the movements, but if you were in full control, you would push against my hand to signal that you’re taking a step forward.”

Yeosang’s right leg slips away from Wooyoung’s left one, and he chases after him, taking a hasty step forward and hitting the tip of Yeosang’s steel-toed boot. Wooyoung backtracks immediately and tugs back, but the blond keeps him firmly planted to the spot.

“Easy, Woo… move a bit slower than that. It’s not a race; it’s a dance. It’s supposed to be slow and rhythmic.” 

Wooyoung lets Yeosang guide his next steps, blindly following them without focusing on any of the words coming from his lips. They sway to an inaudible beat, a song only the two of them can hear, an unspoken melody that holds them to each other. As it turns out, Yeosang doesn’t need to explain anything because Wooyoung’s body picks up on the guidance within minutes. 

“I think you got it,” Yeosang whispers eventually, and neither man is sure how long they’ve been dancing. They don’t pull away though; instead, Yeosang slips his hand free of Wooyoung’s and moves it up to his other shoulder. Slowly but surely, he intertwines his fingers behind Wooyoung’s neck. Wooyoung takes it as a sign to drop his hand to Yeosang’s waist, and he mimics the position with a faint smile. Yeosang arches his back against the touch. He’s in the middle of a laugh when Wooyoung drops his forehead atop the other man’s, eliciting a quiet gasp from him that devolves into a huff of laughter again less than a second later. “We aren’t even dancing anymore.”

“Do we need to be?” Wooyoung lets his eyes flutter shut. Every sense is so full of Yeosang that it’s almost overwhelming: the heat of his warm skin under the silk, the soft sounds of his breathing and slightly lisped tone, the smell of that goddamn cologne someone bought for him some time ago that Wooyoung adores so much, Wooyoung can even still taste Yeosang on his lips from their earlier kiss. And when he opens his eyes once more, there Yeosang stands before him – real, living, able to be seen and held and cherished. 

Too often do those dreams come, the ones where Yeosang remains out of reach or broken and hurt and dying before Wooyoung’s eyes but he can’t do a thing to stop it. They come in a wide variety of nightmares, a plethora of troubles and hardships and pain, and yet there is only one that never arises. 

“You’re thinking too hard,” Yeosang murmurs once he recognizes the gleam in Wooyoung’s eyes. “Come back to me, Woo.” He’s a bit too far gone as it is, too lost in thought and caught up in the frightening possibilities. Yeosang’s hands slip loose and fall forward to cradle Wooyoung’s face in his palms. 

The one that has never awoken in his mind is the one where Yeosang is his master, his owner, the one dealing punishment after punishment, and if Wooyoung dwells on the thought for too long, he can start to hear the crack of the electric whip in his ears.

“Come back to me,” Yeosang says a bit louder this time. Something binds Wooyoung to the words, and he finds himself leaning into the warmth of Yeosang’s touch. “There we go, come back to me. Just like that…”

“’m sorry.” Wooyoung’s words are a bit slurred and broken, but he’s free of the intruding thoughts for the time being at least. 

“That’s enough lessons for today, I think.” Yeosang hums as he trails a thumb over the skin of Wooyoung’s cheek. 

“Let’s stay like this a little while longer, please.”

“Whatever you want, Woo.”

“All I want is you,” Wooyoung whispers, slipping his head away from Yeosang’s so that he can bury his face in the man’s neck. A few of the longer strands of blond hair tickle his ear, and a shiver travels down his spine with the sensation before he settles comfortably there. 

“I know.”

“I would have you for the rest of my life if you let me.”

“You know I would.” Yeosang reaches a hand up to cup the back of Wooyoung’s head. He combs through the charcoal locks there, fingernails brushing over his scalp in such a way that Wooyoung feels himself growing drowsier by the second. “We’ll see what fate has in store for us.”

“What if I don’t want to wait that long?”

“You don’t have to. I’m yours now.” Wooyoung smiles against Yeosang’s skin, and a sigh passes through his chest as Yeosang shifts to press a kiss to his hair. 

“I did pretty well for myself, I suppose. Getting a prince all on my own.”

“You said that as if there was ever any doubt of me falling for you,” Yeosang laughs softly. “But I must admit… a traitorous runaway prince and an ex-slave. Fate can’t even try to tell me that—” 

Wooyoung cuts the thought short, pulling up with haste to slot his lips against Yeosang’s much smoother ones. He knows the man will complain later – tell him that the more they kiss, the more painful it will get in the long run – but right now, Wooyoung just wants to appreciate every inch of Yeosang while he can. If fate wishes to deprive him of that one day, then Wooyoung doesn’t want to look back with any regrets about what they could have done or said in their time together. 

For now, it’s enough. The feel of Yeosang’s lips sliding over his and returning the kiss with equal parts love and passion. The hands tangling in his hair as Wooyoung grips harder at his waist and pulls him impossibly close. He feels like he’s fifteen again in those damp and dark alleyways on Aera, shaking from the cold but oh so warm thanks to the weight of Yeosang’s words that night. He feels like he did the moment Yeosang set him free, the moment he promised that he would take care of Wooyoung. He wouldn’t let him be alone anymore, he wouldn’t let anything happen to him, and he would protect Wooyoung no matter the cost. 

It’s enough, and in the back of his mind, Wooyoung thinks that it will be enough for a long time to come.

✧✧✧ a/n: okay so this!! is not specified when this interim is set, you can leave that up to your own imagination, just for something more lighthearted important and insightful on our lovely bois 🥺 i was a bit nervous about this and almost decided not to post bc it’s the most forward i’ve been with the mxm content but i am really happy with how it turned out so i hope you guys enjoy it too even if you don’t typically enjoy mxm content !! and i also listened to pov by ariana grande while writing it and that was a mistake :’)

taglist: @faeriewoobin @sugarrimajins @atinyinwonderland @2504-life @lil7bluedragon @sparklychangbin @jeong-uwu @jeonartemis @anothershorthuman @xxbluestrifexx @haotheheckk @noonawriter @lostscenarios​ @nlost21​ @mirror-juliet​ @okokokok123-45​ @purple-aeon​ @theoinkypiglet​ @toothlessshiber​ @atinyarmyx1​ @simpforhyunjin​ @hwangwoosan​ @takitaro​ @vampire-jimin​ @softyubi​ @drumboydowoon​ @chatsgotmytongue​ @just-a-starfruit​

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.

[non-plutonian-druid]

I adore your tarot card series, your art is amazing and one of my favorites in the fandom. I have a strange (possibly unanswerable) question, but do you have any tips on emulate Gabriel Bá's style? I've tried to, but it always feel like a poor imitation. I feel like yours emulates his amazingly, while also being unique to your own. Sorry this is probably confusing, and feel free to ignore if it doesn't make sense.

awww thank you so much!!! honestly I feel like I'm still figuring out how to mimic his style. but! I love talking about how I make art, and what I think about when making art, so Anon, I hope you are ready for this extremely long and convoluted reply under the cut

first of all, reference! obviously lmao. I just googled around for pictures from the comics. but if you have something specific you're trying to draw you should definitely get the closest equivalent. 

[ID: a screenshot of a canvas on Procreate. It has a large upright rectangle surrounded by various panels from The Umbrella Academy comics. End ID.]

This is my reference for the tarot series. I really ought to have more, and make tailored reference sheets for each card, but I’m lazy lol

Once you have some reference (don't be afraid to decide that some of your reference isn't that helpful, or that you need more), you can get to ~analysis~

Basically, this is just getting a feel for what the artist does that makes their style distinctive, especially when its different from your own. Things to look out for include proportions, amount of detail, the way eyes, hair, hands, and clothes are drawn, and any other distinctive features of note (like how Bá often exaggerates the chin). A good place to start is by tracing the form!

lets use this picture of vanya as an example (sorry about the quality lol)

[ID: a panel from The Umbrella Academy, of the White Violin playing and tuning her violin. End ID.]

Tracing the white violin’s form is fairly straightforward since she’s not wearing any clothes, but even so this is not just an outline- you want to mark the pieces of her body (such as head, shoulders, ribs, stomach, hips) and how they fit together, like for example:

[ID: the same image as above with the opacity lowered. A red line tracing the outline and joints of her body has been drawn over the image. End ID.]

(I also marked how much of her head that her face takes up, which can be helpful too.)

from this, you can learn that Bá has drawn her with a large head, small shoulders, a torso too wide for her shoulders, and a very long torso- very long ribs in particular, as her stomach and hips are more traditionally proportional. Doing this more times, with more characters - being careful to outline the body under the clothes, not the clothes themselves - can give you a feel for how Bá generally draws proportions. Based on my own experience, I can tell you that the “torso disproportionally wide to the shoulders” thing is pretty typical, and that though he does tend toward longer torsos, this is pretty long even for him.

If you want to get more specific, you can. for example, you can use this method to examine how his faces are proportioned - how how much space in the head that the face takes up, how much area the eyes take up versus the nose, whether there is more space in the forehead or the chin and so on. 

[ID: a panel of The Umbrella Academy showing a closeup of Vanya’s face. The opacity has been lowered, and the basics of the forms of her face have been sketched over in red. Arrows note which line indicates her hairline, that the line of her brows is used to determine the size of her face, and have sectioned off how much of her face is taken up by her eyes versus her mouth and nose. End ID.]

This can vary depending on the character, but I’ve noticed that he usually draws ears as very small, sharp, and low on the head with minimal defined shape, and when he draws hair, he usually draws it in one big shape with minimal interior lines.

 You can also use it to figure out how he draws hands - some specifics that I’ve picked up are that his hands are usually more realistic than mine, and that the meat of the palm, where the thumb connects to the hand, is generally very pronounced and is also generally a round shape (I usually draw this area fairly pointy).

Figuring out how Bá (or any artist) generally proportions a character can go a long way to making your own imitation feel more accurate. Another good, though more straightforward, thing is to examine and imitate how he draws details - how he draws t shirts if you’re drawing a character wearing a t shirt, how he draws trench coats if you’re drawing a character wearing a trench coat, and so on. When choosing reference, keep in mind is how close to the “camera” whatever you’re drawing is, and try  to get reference that is located at a similar distance. There’s more detail closer up and much less detail farther away!

and of course, practice before you jump into your final piece! You can try to copy directly from the reference a few times, and then place your version directly over the original to examine where you went wrong - if you tend to make your heads too big or your torsos too short - in order to keep it in mind for the future. and also practice the pose you’re planning to draw and examine its proportions compared to other drawings Bá has done. And don’t be afraid to trace!! tracing is taboo for final pieces but it can be extremely useful for practice, as long as you are paying attention while you do it!!!

All this is important foundational stuff to getting a good imitation, but what really sells the style, and what can make any sketch look at least more like the comic no matter how unlike the style, is the final lines and coloring.

heres an uncolored piece of art by Gabriel Bá.

[ID: a black-and-white illustration of Five, Diego, Klaus, Allison and Luther standing in a jungle, presumably in Vietnam in the 1960s. End ID.]

I use it for my example because it’s easiest to examine line art when there isn’t any color.

this has more detail than the panels in the comics, but from it you can learn a few things. The most important thing is that Bá uses a thin pen with absolutely no line weight variation or tapering, and also uses large black shadows. He also occasionally uses intermittent dots or dashes to add texture. Many of his lines, particularly the ones for small details, are very wiggly. And much of the time, a given curve is actually made up of a series of straight-ish lines. 

The pen I use for the linework looks like this.

[ID: a set of scribbles made by a pen that does not vary in width, and does not taper at the ends. The curves are slightly jagged. End ID.]

now lets take a look at the coloring. I don’t know if Bá does the coloring or someone else, but the style is still very distinctive and worth taking a closer look at.

[ID: a panel of The Umbrella Academy showing the Sparrows from the end of Hotel Oblivion. End ID.]

All of these colors are flat colors, with no gradients. Not terribly surprising for a comic book, but worth pointing out. All of the shading is very geometric, and there are almost no curved lines, even in the shading for the smoke. most areas have a base color and a shadow, rather than a base color-shadow-highlight, or even multiple highlights and shadows (this is a rule i break frequently). The shadows are likely individual colors picked to be darker than the base color, rather than one color layer set to “multiply”. That’s fairly obvious, but I point it out because its different from how I would normally shade. Occasionally, colors do not fit neatly into the outlines, usually on background objects rather than characters. There are almost no areas where a low-opacity color is laid over the other colors; any places where this happens are almost invariably small and shaped like a rectangle, as though drawn by a chisel brush.

The brush I use for the colors looks like this.

[ID: a set of scribbles made by a chisel-shaped pen. It also does not vary in width, though vertical strokes are thinner than horizontal strokes because of the shape of the tip. End ID.]

for figuring out what colors to use, I honestly recommend just finding a scene that you like the coloring for and taking the colors directly from that. It’ll teach you how to use color palettes like it in the future, and the coloring is already done by a professional, so why not let them do the work for you! If that feels too much like cheating, I still recommend at least taking inspiration from them.

All the practice for form etc is important if you really want to feel like you’re imitating the style, but honestly even just copying the line art and coloring techniques will get you pretty far.

this got. so long. I hope at least some of it was helpful!!!

[hollandbaby]

roommates - t.h smut

a/n: um so i haven’t written in a long time pls be kind. this is just a 4.9k one shot based on how i’m feeling, sexually frustrated, but unfortunately I’m not in lockdown with tom so cannot have sex with him. also I’m tipsy. AND feedback is much appreciated

warnings; smut, oral (f receiving), daddy kink, choking, biting, scratching, super long intro

You had lived with your lifetime best friend, Tom, for just over a year now, alongside his best friends Harrison and Tuwaine and his younger brother Harry. There was never a dull moment in the house, even when Tom’s away filming the other boys provide just as much entertainment. You’re used to spending lots of time with the boys, but when it’s announced lockdown was in place, it took a toll on everyone. Tom is unable to work which is a benefit considering he’s allowed to actually rest finally, plus he’s around a lot more which is nice. Harrison is always practicing his juggling which is entertaining until he breaks your favourite lamp. Tuwaine and Harry tends to keep to themselves, mostly playing video games or working from home. But boy was the house becoming messy. 

“Alright, who’s underwear are these and why are they on the living room floor!?” You shout to the house, picking up the pants by the broom you had in your hand.

“Whadda they look like?” Shouts Harry, most likely on his laptop editing something.

“Grey Calvin’s but I know all of you own at least one pair so it’s not very helpful!”

You move to put them in the laundry basket by the washing machine, carrying on with your cleaning by sweeping the kitchen floor. Tom emerges from the bathroom, in just a pair of grey sweats and a towel wrapped around his neck, you try not to let yourself get distracted but it’s hard when you can see a single drop of water make its way down his toned, bronzed torso.

“Sorry, love, I think they may be mine,” he chuckles as he goes to fill the kettle for a cup of tea. He leans against the kitchen island, drying off his hair with his towel.

“What the fuck are they doing in the communal living room?” You ask, laughing as well. Living with boys may be hard sometimes due to the mess and the fact they’re all super dumb, but it’s so endearing and you have good times.

“I dunno, I probably threw them at one of the boys as a joke.” Tom giggles to himself but you roll your eyes.

“Well next time you throw your dirty laundry at someone pick it up after, doofus.” You chuckle, walking past Tom to head to your room for your wash bag before going for a shower. You turn the shower on and start to undress. You found yourself thinking about Tom, and the way he looked after his shower earlier, his wet curly hair all floppy and cute, water droplets falling onto his broad chest and toned abs. You’d never really thought about him sexually before, obviously he’s an attractive man and you’ve been close friends with him since you were kids, he knows you better than anyone, but you’d never realised just how hot he is. Maybe it was because you hadn’t had sex in over a month due to lockdown or maybe it’s because you’ve been able to spend more time with Tom recently, but there’s a familiar feeling in the pit of your stomach that stretches all the way down to your core. You bite your lip, stepping under the hot water, steam filling the bathroom as you try to wash away your sins.

You’re cooking dinner for everyone, Harrison, Harry and Tuwaine playing some game in the living room and Tom is just watching, laughing along with them. Tom looks over the sofa to you, watching your movements for a second before getting up off the sofa and walking to the kitchen.

“Need any help, darlin’?” He asks, as you chop up some vegetables.

“You can chop up some onions with me?” You smile at him, and he gets a feeling in the pit of his stomach. You both continue chopping and cooking the meal, Tom drinking beer and you wine as you both dance around the kitchen and giggle and sing with each other. You call the boys into the dining area, serving up dinner and grabbing drinks for all the boys. As you turn from the fridge to place the beers on the counter, Tom is already stood behind you, making you jump. He grabs your waist to steady you, and you’re grateful you didn’t drop any of the bottles.

“Sorry, love,” he chuckles as your face heats up, a mixture of the fact Tom’s warm hands are still on your waist and you just had a close call to a very messy and classy clean up.

“S’okay, I’m just glad I didn’t drop any of these! The boys would kill me,” you pop open all the bottles, attempting to grab them along with your bottle of wine AND glass.

“Woah there, darling, I’ll grab those for you,” Tom takes three of the bottles from you, letting out a breathy laugh at your disgruntled facial expression, your bottom lip slightly jutted out and hair falling in your face.

“Thank you,” you smile and pick up your wine and glass, following Tom’s lead back to the table.

The boys are all chatting away, dishing up their dinners as you and Tom place their beers down in front of them.

“Thank you so much for cooking, Y/N, we’ll wash up.” Harrison says, smiling at you.

“Will we?” Tuwaine chimes in, looking confused.

“Bro shut up.” Harry says, you roll your eyes but you’re laughing alongside them.

“Well maybe after dinner, and after Haz, Harry and Tuwaine wash up, we can do something together?” You suggest, sipping your wine before munching some more.

“Sounds good. What did you have in mind?” Asks Tom, eager to spend some time with you.

“Well we could all play some card games or a board game?”

And that’s how you end up drunkenly giggling at 1AM over monopoly.

“How the fuck did I get go to jail again?!”

“Unlucky Baz man, looks like you’re in jail again,” you giggle, moving his figurine to the jail space.

“How are you doing so well at this game Y/N? It’s like you’re the monopoly mastermind,” Harrison asks, slurring the M’s slightly.

“I dunno man I used to play a lot with my family, plus it’s a game of chance.”

“Well it’s a fucking stupid game of chance,” Harry chimes in, pouting at the fact he has to miss a go.

“Shut up, dickhead, you love this game,” Tom grabs Harry by his shoulders and puts him in a headlock, ruffling his hair.

“Tom!” Harry exclaims, thrashing around. He kicks the board, knocking all the houses and hotels and cards everywhere.

“Harry!” shouts Harrison, clearly angry at the fact he’s lost his place and cannot for the life of him remember where it was.

“Oh my god you’re all idiots,” you laugh, Tuwaine exclaiming a “hey don’t put me in that category with them!”

You finish the last gulp of your wine before attempting to stand up to grab another bottle. You steady yourself on Tom’s shoulder before heading over to the fridge. You can feel his eyes on you as you pour yourself some more wine, but he quickly looks away when you turn back around. The lads are all laughing together on the floor, sipping beers and being stupid.

“What’re you all laughing at?” You ask, smiling, as you go to join them on the floor, Tom’s hand gently grabbing yours to help you sit.

“Harry’s suggesting we play never have I ever,” Tuwaine laughs.

“It wasn’t just me! Harrison suggested it I just said sure why not!”

“God you’re all a bunch of kids. Alright, are we playing or not?” You ask, getting confident from the booze.

“I know I suggested it but the room is spinning so much right now I think I’m gonna throw up,” Harrison states, hiccuping.

“Wow, good one genius. Alright, let’s get you to bed. Night all,” Tuwaine gets up, picking Haz up in the process and wrapping his arm around his waist, guiding Harrison to his room before making his way to his own.

“Aaaand I’d rather go to bed than stay up for whatever weird shit is gonna happen between you two,” Harry says standing up and chugging the rest of his beer, “peace out.”

“And then there were two,” Tom chuckles, starting to pack away the long forgotten monopoly board. You help him, placing pieces in their respective compartments and giggling with each other.

“So how about that game of never have I ever?” You ask biting your lip. You look at Tom to find he’s already looking at you, cheeks flushed and a curl falling into his face.

“Sure,” he chuckles breathily, “I’ll just grab another beer.” You smile to yourself as you watch Tom walk to the kitchen, biting your lower lip as you realise you shouldn’t be staring at his ass as he walks away. Tom returns to the living room, you’ve moved onto the sofa now, put some music on and your feet up on the coffee table in front of you. He plops down on the sofa next to you and smiles, taking a swig of his beer.

“Alright. Never have I ever pissed my pants from laughing,” Tom chuckles to himself as you slap his chest.

“That was ONE time and it was a TINY amount!” You huff, taking a swig of your drink. You smirk as you pull your legs up onto the sofa, turning to face Tom. “Never have I ever tried to impress a girl by doing a backflip but it ending up awfully badly and I broke my wrist.”

“For fucks sake,” Tom throws his head back and groans, taking a swig of his drink. “She still went on a date with me though, I assume out of pity. Okay, ummm, never have I ever had sex in a park.” He’s smirking this time, knowing full well you definitely had.

“I was 16 and fucking stupid. Guy was a douche anyway. Okay never have I ever, been walked in on.” You laugh at this one. Harrison loved telling the story of the time he walked in on Tom and some girl he’d brought home from a bar.

“For fucks sake, I wish everyone would stop bringing that one up.” He drinks, keeping eye contact with you. “Never have I ever had sex with a roommate,” he licks his lips, watching as you take another sip of your wine. “How’s that even happen?”

“You know the story, Tom, I had to move out because of how awkward it got.” You frown at him, these never have i evers we’re getting too real. “Okay, never have I ever had phone sex.” You watch Tom roll his eyes and take a swig of his beer.

“You mean to tell me you’ve never had phone sex?”

“No, what’s the point when I could just have sex with someone?”

“What if you’re far away from someone you’re dating and can’t go see them? I was working on set you know.”

“I know that! These are to try and get you drunk Mr Holland that’s the aim of the game,” you smile at him, “your turn.”

“Never have I ever,” he trails off, lips pursing as he thinks of one to say, “never have I ever had a threesome.”

You pause for a second, eyebrows furrowed and eyes squinting wondering if he knew you’d had a threesome before or if he was just curious. Either way, you take a sip of your drink.

“Now, this I’ve got to hear,” Tom’s smirking, an eyebrow raised as he waits for the story.

“I thought you knew! Oh, god. So it was my first year of uni, I was fresh out of a bad relationship, exploring my options etc you know. I start having sex with this guy regularly, just causal stuff no feelings involved. One day he comes round, then this girl calls him and he asks if she can come for drinks too. Obviously I say yes because I’m already tipsy and open to anything. She comes round, we end up drinking 3 bottles of wine each and it just, happened.” You look to Tom, after taking a sip of your wine, your cheeks flushed but it’s nothing compared to the look of shock on Tom’s face. He’s aroused at the idea but he won’t let you know that. His mouth is agape, then he licks his lips and smirks.

“Wow who knew you were crazy like that?”

You slap his chest, “shut up! I bet you’ve been up to some crazy stuff. I’m surprised you’ve not had a threesome yet.”

“I’m not the type of man to share, darling.” He raises an eyebrow at you. “Besides, it was a foursome.”

“Ahhh and there it is.” You roll your eyes and smile, finishing off your drink. “Be a darling and grab my bottle from the fridge please, Tommy?” He tuts at your demand, nevertheless standing and going to grab your bottle. He grabs himself another beer too. You smile and thank him as he fills your glass, putting the bottle on the floor in case you need a refill. “I miss sex. That’s the worst part about all this shit.”

“Oh, totally agree. Stupid lockdown.” Tom sighs, sitting back down on the sofa next to you. You place your glass on the coffee table, turning to face Tom fully, resting your arm on the back of the sofa.

“What if we had sex?”

Tom spits his drink out, coughing and spluttering, getting his spat beer all over his white t shirt. “Shit. Um, what?”

“C’mon, we’re both adults with needs, it doesn’t have to be a big deal. Just a one time thing, a favour, to release all the sexual frustrations we’re both clearly experiencing since we don’t have dick or pussy on tap at the moment.” You pick your wine back up, taking a long swig before continuing. “I could just give you a blowie and we can go our separate ways.”

“Y/N, we live together. You said last time you did something like this it didn’t end well.”

“That was only a bad idea with my past roommate because he became obsessed with me after. Tom, we don’t have to do it it was just a suggestion.” You don’t know if it’s because the alcohol has given you a load of confidence or if it’s because you’ve not had sex in a long time but what you do know is that Tom is very attractive, especially when he runs his hand through his floppy curls, his white shirt tightening around his bicep. You lick your lips as your eyes rake up and down his body. You meet his brown eyes, his teeth biting down on his bottom lip.

“Conditions?”

“We can do whatever you want. My only condition is, we need a safe word. Actually, that and we probably shouldn’t tell the others what happened.”

“Agreed. Safe word can be pineapple.”

“Pineapple?” You laugh, leaning closer to Tom. You can smell his cologne, and it’s absolutely divine.

“I dunno. It was the first thing that came to mind.” He leans closer into you as well. “What’re you into?” His eyes flick to your lips and back up to your eyes.

“Hair pulling, biting, scratching, choking, spanking, call me babygirl or a good girl and I’m a goner. You?”

“Same, but call me Tommy or baby. Maybe daddy as well, depends how rough we’re going I guess.”

You put your glass back on the coffee table after finishing your wine, moving to straddle Tom’s lap. “Okay, Tommy, looks like we’re doing this.” You move in, testing the waters, eyes flickering between Tom’s and his lips. You can already feel the heat in your core and the wetness in your panties, your thin shorts barely protecting you from the feeling of Tom’s arousal in his grey sweats. He caves first, crashing his lips against yours and moving them oh so deliciously against your own. Your eyes instantly shut, your hands combing through his hair before gripping onto his brunette curls. Tom lets his empty bottle drop onto the sofa, long forgotten as his own hands move to your hips. His tongue experiments by licking your top lip, asking for entrance which you more than gladly grant him. Your tongue dances against his, your hips subconsciously grinding against his already hard cock. You let out a rough, breathy moan into his mouth, Tom’s hands moving to your ass, feeling the skin that your shorts don’t cover. He pulls back, panting and lips glossy and red.

“Your room or mine?”

“Whichever’s closest.” You kiss him again, letting out a slightly startled noise as he stands, picking you up. You wrap your legs around his waist, hands gripping onto his shoulders whilst his are gripping your ass. You peck his lips, kissing down his neck as he walks you to his room. It’s closest to the living room and nearest to the bathroom so it’s a win win for you. You open Tom’s door for him, he almost drops you when you do but luckily you grip back onto him, accidentally scratching his back. Tom lets out a hiss, but it’s not with pain, more so pleasure at the feeling of your nails digging into him. It makes him wonder how amazing your nails will feel scratching down his back while he’s fucking into you. He throws you on his bed, and you briefly note how clean and tidy his room is considering he’s so chaotic. Tom removes his (slightly damp with beer) shirt and is on top of you in an instant, his lips meeting yours again in a messy kiss, teeth and tongue in the mix. You wrap your legs around his waist, his hips grinding down into your own as your hands rake through his hair, tugging on tufts as you sloppily kiss. He pulls away, his lips moving down to your neck and nipping and sucking there. You let out a moan, your eyes rolling back as Tom’s mouth works wonders on you. Your hips buck up into his and his hand moves from the bed to your body, trailing down your neck and chest to the hem of your vest top, tugging on it as a signal for you to take it off. You listen, moving your arms down to the hem to rip your top off, Tom instantly moving down your body, his lips kissing your chest before his hand moves round to your back and unclasps your bra. He pulls it off you, his mouth making its way to your nipple as his eyes look up into yours. You scrunch your eyebrows in pleasure, biting your bottom lip as you moan lowly. You don’t even notice Tom’s hand trailing down your body until it reaches your clothed pussy, your hips instantly jerking up to meet his hand. A mixture of Tom’s tongue on your nipple and his fingers rubbing your clit through your shorts is giving you a feeling you’ve not felt in a while. Yes you’ve been getting yourself off but there’s something so different about someone else’s touch that feels so fucking amazing.

“Do you know how fucking hot you look in these shorts, baby? I’ve wanted to rip them off you all evening.” Tom moans out, he can feel your wetness through the material.

“Do it, then.” You smirk, but your breath is hoarse and raspy. You let out a gasp as Tom practically rips your shorts from your body, along with your underwear. He wastes no time moving down your body, lips leaving a wet trail of kisses on your scorching skin. Hiking your legs up so your feet are flat on the bed, he kisses your hips, then down your left thigh, as your hands make their way to his hair. Tom looks up into your eyes as he licks closer and closer to your wet pussy, his mouth hovering over you, causing you to grind your hips up in an attempt to meet his tongue. He finally ends the torturous teasing, gently licking his tongue through your folds and to your clit, you throw your head back and let out a soft ‘oh, fuck’. Tom’s fingers make their way up your body, gently teasing your nipple as his tongue massages your clit, your hips meeting his movements as you let out small, breathy moans.

“Fuck, Tom, fingers please,” your voice is broken and still raspy, but Tom makes eye contact with you again and the moan you let out is much louder than before. You throw your head back again, writhing against him.

“What do want, baby girl? Hm? Want my fingers inside you?” His breath is cool against your warm skin, his eyes searching for yours.

“Yes!” You attempt to buck your hips up again but Tom’s hands hold them in place.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, please, daddy!” Your voice is broken and your attempt to keep quiet is ineffective. Tom moves his right hand from your hip, his tongue returning back to your clit as he slowly pumps a finger into you, curling it up to reach your g spot. He has you writhing beneath him, adding another fingers stretching you out as his tongue laps at your clit, your hands grip his hair as you grind against his mouth, breathy moans escaping your lips. You bite your lip as your eyes roll to the back of your head, you figured Tom would be good in bed but, god, he was so much better than you expected.

“I’m close, Tommy,” he all but growls into your pussy at the nickname, fingers picking up speed as he sucks on your clit gently. One of your hands flies up to your face, biting down on your arm to stop yourself from letting out an extremely loud moan as you cum. Tom slows his movements, helping you ride out your high. He removes his fingers from you, looking into your eyes as he licks them clean. You bite your lip and let out a soft groan at the sight of him, pulling him up to you so you can kiss his lips, allowing your tongue to massage his. You can taste yourself on him, only making you moan into his mouth as you kiss. You pull on his sweats, pushing them down his thighs along w his boxers. Tom pulls them the rest of the way off and you roll onto him, pinning him to the bed with your thighs. Your lips never leaving his in a sloppy, wet, tipsy kiss. You’re overwhelmed by his senses, his hot skin, his sexy scent, his soft curls and the way his teeth occasionally nibble on your bottom lip. You start grinding your hips against Tom’s hard cock, his hands flying to your hips as you do so.

“You’re so fucking wet for me aren’t you, baby girl?” Tom growls against your lips, feeling your wetness on his skin.

You moan against his lips, nodding your head, “do you have a condom?”

“Yeah, bedside table, 2nd drawer down.” You reach over him to the nightstand, retrieving a condom, opening it with your teeth before rolling it onto Tom’s cock. Tom lets out a hiss at the contact, throwing his head back and panting as your hand moves up and down him, before you lift up and slide down onto his cock. His hands instantly grab onto your ass, nails digging into the skin as you find a pace, adjusting to his size. He was bigger than you were expecting but, fuck, did it feel good. You pick up the pace, hips moving up and down as Tom’s hand moves from your ass cheek to your clit, using his middle finger to circle the bundle of nerves. He’s grunting with each move you make, and your head falls back as you continue riding him. He moves his other hand off your ass and brings it back down in a harsh slap, your skin jiggling and a sharp moan escaping your lips. He smirks up at you, your body dropping forward, hands moving to rest by his head as you keep the movements of your hips. He slaps your ass again, massaging the red skin there as you bite your lip, looking into his eyes. You reach your right hand to around his throat, gently squeezing. Something snaps in Tom at that, planting his feet on the bed to get leverage to thrust up into you, fucking you from underneath, he grabs a handful of your hair and fastens the pace of his fingers on your clit.

“Fuck, Tommy!” You moan, trying to keep quiet but it’s hard when he’s fucking you so good, the arch in your back allowing him to go deeper, creating a delicious feeling. “I want you to fuck me from behind.” You’re panting and your voice is quiet but Tom hears you loud and clear.

“Fuck, love, you’re so hot,” he pulls out, rolling you over onto your front, your arms reaching in front of you, chest on the bed as your knees widen and your ass is in the air, Tom slaps your ass as he moves behind you, sliding his hard cock between your fold and collecting your wetness before he thrusts back into you.

“Shit, you’re such a good girl for me, aren’t you?” Another slap on your ass as he fucks into you, hands grabbing your hips for leverage.

“Yes, baby, keep fucking me like that!” You moan into the sheets. Tom reaches forward and grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling your back up against his torso, fucking up into you. His hand slides around to grip your throat as he continues fucking you, his lips leaving sloppy kisses on your neck and cheek. He nibbles on your ear lightly, your eyes rolling to the back of your head in pleasure. Tom’s other hand snakes it’s way around your waist down your body, his middle fingers circling your clit. Your head is resting on his shoulder, your hand coming round to pull on his hair as he continues fucking you, Tom’s grunts and groans right in your ear as his lips caress the skin there.

“So fuckin tight, baby, jesus,” Tom’s breath is hot on your neck leaving goosebumps all over your body as you moan at his words. “I want you to cum for me baby, can you do that?”

“Yes, Tommy, I’m so close,” you groan, but Tom pulls away completely. You’re shocked and disgruntled before you realise he’s throwing you on your back, spreading your thighs and thrusting back into you. You grab his shoulders, nails digging in as Tom fucks you, harder than before. Your moans are muffled by the skin of his shoulder, you bite down on his skin, sucking, most likely leaving a mark but you don’t care, too consumed with the fire in your stomach as your orgasm approaches.

“Rub my clit, please,” you breathe out, one of Tom’s hands moving from your thigh to between your legs, resuming his movements on your clit from before. He fucks you in a rhythm, your nails scratching down his back as he does so, Tom’s hair is falling in his face and tickling yours but you don’t care, he looks so hot like this, sweaty and panting above you. Your toes curl and your pussy clenches around him, his cock pounding into you, and it’s like nothing you’ve felt before.

“I’m gonna cum, Tommy!” You throw your head back, letting out a moan as Tom’s fingers rub your clit faster and he fucks you harder, his lips crashing against yours as you reach your high. Tom follows shortly after, sloppily thrusting into you as he cums in the condom. Tom collapses on top of you, your breathing steadying as you play with his hair. After a minute, he pulls out and discards of the condom, flopping onto the bed beside you, opening his arm to you so you can roll into his side.

“Well, that was ... wow,” you sigh contentedly. Your breathing is starting to slow down and a wave of exhaustion hits you. You rest your head on Tom’s bare chest, one of his fingers curling a piece of your hair around it.

“Oh, god yeah it was, something else.” He chuckles, pressing a light peck to your forehead.

“I should probably go to the bathroom then back to my room.” You sigh, you don’t want to move though. You’re absorbing Tom’s warmth and it feels so good. You roll off of his chest, pulling his t shirt from off the floor and sliding it on. Tom sits up as you go to collect your things, “you could stay in here tonight? I mean, sex isn’t the only thing I miss.” His face is flush and he smiles sheepishly at you. You smile back and bite your lip, leaning back onto the bed to peck his nose before heading off to the bathroom. Tom thinks you’ve gone to bed, sighing in defeat and flopping back against his sheets. You go to clean up, making your way back to Tom’s room but not before grabbing another 2 bottles of beer first. You return to his room, smiling as you hand him a bottle. He laughs at you as he opens his beer, taking a sip before opening his arms to you, inviting you to sit with him on his bed. He’s got his boxers back on, duvet loosely wrapped around his hips, shifting while he moves. You sit back on the bed with him, taking a sip of your own beer. You both laugh and chat until you finish your drinks, lying down again and falling sleep curled up in Tom’s arms, his hand gently massaging your scalp as he places occasional pecks on your forehead. You realise that maybe this won’t be the last time as you drift off into a peaceful sleep.

[ragdoll-darlin]

A Peaceful Day

Summary- Venti takes care of you after a stressful day :]

A gift for a friend!! Hope you all enjoy. This can be read as platonic or romantic, whichever you choose! reader is gender neutral.

It had been a long day. Your muscles were strained and sore, and there was a headache blooming in your forehead.

You entered the gates of Mondstat with a sigh, giving a half hearted wave to the guards. The sky had already turned a dark blue, freckled with stars, yet you hadn’t even had dinner yet. You stopped at the good hunter, thinking about what to eat. Nothing even sounded good, plus it’s not like you were even that hungry anymore anyways.

Stepping out of the line with a quick apologetic smile, you started on your trip back to your house, dreading every step. You were not so lucky as to have your work end with physical duty, there was still more waiting. Your calloused and dirty hands were united for things like this, but the knights were understaffed, and the more you did the less got pushed onto poor jean. She had it much worse, anyways.

You opened your door to the unexpected scent of dandelions and fresh air. Venti’s scent. Hopefully he didn't come over for a meal, or to find refuge from any coming rain. You loved him, really, but you lacked the energy to put up with any of his antics.

Setting your weapon of choice and bag down in the hallway, taking off your shoes and placing them next to where Venti’s had been messily tossed, you entered the one room apartment to find Venti singing a tune unfamiliar to you while he chopped up some kind of vegetable. The laptop was humming with recent use next to him , though far enough away to avoid getting any food on it.

he looked up with a grin , jumping out of the chair and running up to you with a giggle. Once near you , he looked at you with a question of permission in his eyes, and when you nodded he threw his arms around your torso and squeezed the air out of you. He ceased from picking you up, not due to a lack of strength, but instead height. He did so once, and it resulted in the both of you tending to each others bruises, because he had tripped and the two of you had ended up in a tangle of limbs on the ground. You laughed it off, but it hurt.

His tight grasp released and you let out a large breath as if he had been suffocating you, though it wasn't completely for comedic effect. Grinning up at you, “Welcome back!! You’ve been gone for ages, I’m glad I fell asleep or else the food would’ve been cold, hehe!” you smiled, almost on the verge of tears. His grin turned into more of a concerned smile, then.

“Have you eaten? Are you tired? I can bag all this up and start it back up later if you’d rather nap!” You nodded, “a bit of sleep would be nice. Cuddle with me?” Venti jumped up and clapped “I’d be honoured!”

He ushered you to the bed, where a calico cat yawned and stretched in greeting. “Get comfy while I clean this all up. By the way, your work is done,” he tapped his chin “probably. It was a bit confusing, I mighta messed it up!” you laughed, undoing your outergarmets.

You got under the blankets and watched him, then sat back up as he came over to you, licking something off of his hands. “There’s a shirt over there you left one day, its cleaned.” he nodded, and started to change. First by undoing his braids, which you watched with interest. He looked nice with his hair down, older. He looked good like that, with his messily chopped bangs he did himself framing his face, the blue tips contrasting the pink of his lips. You told him this once, sitting on the statue together. He smiled, and asked if you liked it more. You didn’t, he looked amazing, sure, but the braids were more fitting. They looked right on him.

You looked away while he changed, taking a drink of the water on your nightstand, then turned as you felt his weight on the bed. He smiled at you, laying down. He put his hand on your head, lightly guiding it to a pillow. He settled against you, and began using one hand to pet your head. You accepted the embrace, drifting off to sleep.

The pale, still rising sun woke you up, along with the smell of eggs. Blinking the sleep out of your eyes, you realized two things. One, it was early. Much earlier than you woke up normally, but definitely not too early for your friend. Two, the blankets were messed up on the opposite side of the bed, but your counterpart was no longer there. Sitting up, you were greeted by his back towards you, singing the same unknown song, at the stove. There was a mess of foodstuffs and seasonings on the counter next to him, as well as a mug of steaming coffee. He took a sip, not noticing you had awoken.

You stood up and stretched, going over to venti and making your presence known. He looked to you, a bit of something smudged on his cheek. “Good Morning! There’s coffee done, I think I did it right this time!” you giggled, remembering the one time he had managed to make the coffee spicy. Neither of you were sure how, and perhaps with a different flavor it would’ve tasted quite good.

You poured a cup and sat down, watching how Venti bit his lower lip with focus, and how he moved the hair out of his face with no regard for what could be on his hand. You could get used to a life like this.

[goldensunflowers98]

Coffee House Dreams

Luke Hemmings Imagine

Please let me know what you think❤️

Aurora sighed as she blew a golden blonde curl from her line of vision once again, her fingers lightly pressing against the piano keys while trying to find the right sound. The small coffee shoppe nestled in one of the side streets of London, where her sister worked tirelessly, bustled with life, the strong scent of espresso overwhelming her senses with every inhale.

She was here almost everyday since she couldn't afford a piano this nice at home, knew most of the customers by name, and she always enjoyed a classic, sweet, vanilla cappuccino after a long day at Uni.

Aurora was a simple girl who loved the sight of rain droplets on rose petals, the sound of the ocean waves crashing against the shore at night, and the scent of espresso as she played the piano. She loved the color red, especially her crimson colored scrunchie that currently tied her mess of golden curls up, and she found unkind people to be the scum of the earth.

She also found the mysterious blonde haired, blue eyed boy that hid his face being a pair of sunglasses and a steaming caramel latte to be the most beautiful creature she'd ever seen. He had started coming in just in the past week, but Aurora found his Australian accent positively enchanting and the dimples that appeared when he smiled made her slam her fingers down on the keys of the piano the first time she saw them, causing a loud crash of discord to sound through the small shoppe and for her to duck her blushing face when he whipped around confused.

He sat perched at the window seat across the way and Aurora noticed how he had a blueberry muffin as well today, his fingers picking at the treat as he watched the raindrops rolls down the clear glass beside him.

He looked sad today, Aurora noticed, the corner of his lips turned downwards and he anxiously fidgeted every few minutes, scratching his temple with his sweater paw.

Now, noticing she was staring like a crazy person, Aurora clears her throat, turning her attention back to the keys and the song she was trying to figure out.

Well the sky is finally open, the rain and wind stopped blowin'

But you're stuck out in the same old storm again

The notes just don't sound as perfect as she wanted and she tries again in another key.

You hold tight to your umbrella, well, darlin' I'm just tryin' to tell ya

That there's always been a rainbow hangin' over your head

She groans to herself, placing her head down on the polished wood, frustrated that she couldn't even get the cords right to her own song.

"That's a beautiful song. Have you tried it starting out in 'G' though?"

She gasps in shock, jumping backwards, her sheet music flying everywhere, and she nearly falls off the piano stool as she hears the accented voice of the mysterious boy who loved caramel lattes right beside her.

He looks mortified at her reaction, his bright blue eyes that were no longer covered by sunglasses were wide and his long arms were out like he was about to catch her before she hit the ground.

"Whoa! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to scare you," he says but it's all muffled as Aurora stares up at him in shock and wonder.

This mysterious boy wasn't so mysterious after all. He was Luke freaking Hemmings from her old favorite band, 5 Seconds of Summer. She had been staring at Luke Hemmings like a certified freak for over a week now and didn't notice. She really needed to get more sleep.

"It's fine. Everything is fine. Just startled me is all. First, you're way over there and now, you're all the way over here. You must have some long legs on you," she mumbles frantically like a crazy person, picking up her sheet music and as she finishes her sentence, her eyes trail from his torso, down his long legs, and to his feet that were awkwardly doing this thing where they turned into one another. "I rest my case."

He laughs lightly at that and her eyebrows raise when he rests his latte cup on top of the piano as if he was staying awhile.

"Sorry, I tend to creep up on people without them noticing. I'm Luke, by the way," he reaches out his hand for her to shake and Aurora smiles at the sight of his red gel fingernails, her favorite color.

"Aurora... I love the red," she says, earning a brilliant beam from him with a hint of a blush. He mumbles a 'thank you' quietly, tucking a wild blonde curl behind his ear sheepishly.

"You come in here a lot. Do you live close by or something?" He asks, taking a sip of his hot drink as she assorts her music once more.

"Are you stalking me, Luke?" She smirks as he nearly chokes on his drink and starts to fumble over his words.

"N-No! No, I just hear you play every time I come in. It's quite nice and it's a small... it's a small shoppe. Oh, god... Please don't think I'm a psycho stalker," he winces behind his cup, knowing his previous words made him sound like a creep.

"I'm just kidding," she giggles with a mischievous grin, finding his nervousness to be quite funny. "It's a small and quiet coffee house. Not many new people come in, so you're a sight for sore eyes, for sure."

She furrows her brows as he doesn't really reply to her statement, looking back at the door as it chimes, lips bitten harshly by his front teeth. He looks disappointed as Andrew, the local dog walker who liked a double fudge hot cocoa after a long morning of trudging along behind a sweet saint bernard, two huskies that were brothers, Mrs. Henderson's prize winning poodle, and a teacup yorkie that had a bite of a lion, walked in.

"Waiting for someone?" She asked quietly, trying to be gentle as his face is crestfallen after checking the time.

"Uh.." he runs his hand through his curls, tugging at the roots anxiously for a moment before turning back to her. "My girlfriend. She... We've been fighting a lot recently, but she was supposed to meet me an hour ago to talk some stuff out."

Sierra Deaton, Luke's girlfriend, was a sweet girl from what Aurora observed from the tweets and Instagram posts, but every relationship had its downfalls.

"Maybe she's stuck in traffic. You know how London is," she once again tries to be gentle with his feelings and her heart aches just a bit when she sees his deep frown.

"Yeah... Maybe it's just London." He hides his upset eyes by a fake smile and Aurora finds it upsetting at just how good he seemed at that specific action; hiding his true feelings.

"Fuck," he suddenly curses, looking frantic for a second as he starts collecting all of his belongings.

"What's wrong?" Aurora asks, his nervousness making her anxiety spike.

"I'm late for rehearsal. Shit! I completely forgot," he shoves his phone in his pocket and shoots back the rest of his latte quickly. "It was so nice finally meeting you! Um, I'll probably see you tomorrow! Try starting the song out in G!" As quick as he stumbles out his words, he is out of the shoppe and Aurora watches in hazy confusion as he speed walks past the window, tugging at his hair nervously again.

"That boy is going to go bald one day if he keeps that up," she mumbles, turning back to her piano and feeling a bit confused and star struck by her encounter.

"What boy?" She hears her sister ask as she walks around the corner, taking Luke's empty mug from off the piano and placing it in the dirty dish tray she had rested on her hip.

"Just a boy, Cece," she smiles up at her older sister who looked disheveled after a long shift. "Damn, you look rough."

Celestia rolls her eyes playfully at her little sister, reaching up to maintain her jet black hair that was nothing like her sister's. You would have never have known that they were related if you had set your eyes on the curly blonde haired, green eyed, shy girl and the older, upbeat girl with obsidian hair and bright, blue eyes. "Want another cappuccino?" She asks, earning a grin and a nod from Aurora as she walks away.

Looking down at the ivory keys, Aurora hums to herself as she hovers her fingers over the 'G' key. Beginning to play the song, she can't help but grin and scribble down notes inside her tattered song journal. Maybe Luke knew what he was talking about after all.

________

The sun is dimly shining the next morning and Aurora inhales the smell of wet asphalt after the night full of rain, a small smile on her face. Turning the corner towards the coffee shoppe, she nearly stops in her tracks as she sees a familiar, teary-eyed boy through the window, sitting in his normal seat. He was alone, no coffee or muffin in sight and she watches as he buries his distraught face in his hands.

Trudging along slowly while taking looks back at the upset Luke through the window, Aurora frowns as she enters the shoppe and walks over to the counter. "Hey, Cece. I need a vanilla cappuccino, a caramel latte, and two blueberry muffins, please. Put extra caramel drizzle and whipped cream on the latte too."

She ignores her sister's confused smirk as she places the money on the counter, continuing to look over at Luke, who's shoulders were now lightly shaking with sobs. Her order is quick to arrive and she collects the cups and muffins carefully, making a beeline towards Luke's table.

"Hey, sunshine," she whispers solemnly, a gentle, comforting smile on her lips as he looks up with red rimmed eyes, a flushed nose and cheeks, and sniffles quietly.

"Hey," he croaks, wiping his eyes and looking embarrassed that she caught him in his weakest moments.

She slowly slides the muffin and caramel latte in front of him and when he looks up at her confused that she got his order right, she shrugs lightly. "Lucky guess," she says before taking the seat in front of him.

"I know we just met and aren't the best of friends, but I felt like you needed someone to talk to or else you wouldn't be sitting here in the middle of a public coffee house and crying, so... Here I am," she says, stuffing a large bite of blueberry muffin in her mouth and ignoring the crumbs that fall onto the table.

He doesn't say anything for a few moments, a dazed look in his eyes as he gazes out the window and stirs his spoon around and around the rim of his cup.

Aurora is patient, half of her cappuccino finished before he finally parts his lips to speak.

"She left me. She said she didn't want to deal with the distance when we go on tour again and that she didn't trust me to not h-hook up with other girls while I'm gone. I've never done anything but give her l-love and reasons t-to...to trust me! I would n-never cheat."

His words, heaving chest, and his trembling lip are enough to make Aurora wince in sympathy, nearly burning her tongue as he says it in the middle of her taking a larger gulp.

"I'm so sorry, Luke... I know she meant a lot to you or you wouldn't be having this reaction." He nods solemnly as her words before she continues. "If it's any consolation, she didn't deserve you after you kept trying to meet up and talk and she never showed. You tried. She didn't. Some people aren't worth your tears. I know that's not going to stop you from being upset, but it's a thought to think about."

His eyebrows furrow a bit at her words before he gives a small nod. "I guess you're right," he says, showing progress in his mood as he finally picks up his latte and takes a small sip.

It's quiet for a few more minutes and the second that Aurora sees his bottom lip start to tremble again, she panics and leans forward. "Hey," she reaches out and lightly touches his hand. "Want to get out of here? I've got this place I'd like to show you if you let me. It's a bit of a drive, but you won't regret it."

Looking down at his watch, he seems to weigh the pros and cons for a moment before giving in. "Why not?" He says, standing and throwing his jacket on as Aurora looks up, slightly dumbfounded that he accepted.

"Okay," she stands up and gets out an excited giggle, placing their cups in the bin. "Lets go"

With a wave to her sister, who was giving her a proud smirk, Luke puts on his sunglasses and they leave the coffee house, making their way to her car that was parked around the corner.

"Holy shit, this is amazing!" Luke laughs unbelievably at her cherry red 1976 Cadillac Eldorado Convertible with cream colored interior.

"Thanks! It was my granddad's!" Climbing in, she cranks the car and with an excited grin and looking both ways, she pulls out into the traffic.

The wind blows through their hair as the cruise down the roads and Aurora gently smiles when she looks over and sees Luke grinning as he looks at the scenery and people around.

"Here," She hands him her phone as she enjoys the cool breeze, placing her sunnies over her eyes. "You choose the music."

"Brave choice," he hums, taking the phone and beginning to scroll through the songs until he gets to a certain category.

"I knew it!" He shouts with a crazed laugh, Aurora giving him an odd look as she worries for his health.

"You okay there, bub?" She asks with a slight chuckle before he shoves her phone in her face with a wide grin.

"Every one of our albums, including our old EP's, and features. I knew you were a fan!" He laughs as her face drops, a blush taking over her cheeks.

"I never said I wasn't," she sticks her tongue out at him before smirking at his dumbfounded face. "Play a song, doofus." She shoves him playfully as he continues to grin, his thumb scrolling through the songs.

English Love Affair starts playing through the speakers and Aurora rolls her eyes behind her sunglasses. "I see what you did there," she laughs as he smirks over at her cheekily, his sadness hidden well, but Aurora knew it was still under the surface.

________

Oh tie up your boat, take off your coat, and take a look around

Everything is alright now

The door to the coffee shoppe chimes cheerfully the following day, making Aurora look up in curiosity. A smile tugs at her lips as she sees the familiar, lanky, blonde boy walk in but her eyes slightly widen as three other beautiful boys follow behind him.

"Holy mother of God," she mumbles to herself wide eyed as she sees Luke turn towards the piano and give her a smile and wave, making a beeline towards her with the boys in tow.

Gulping, Aurora tries to hide her shaking hands by sitting on them, nervously grinning as they come closer.

"Hey, Ro! These are my friends, Michael, Ashton, and Calum. I told them about your song and they really wanted to hear it." Aurora almost fell over as a pleasant nickname passed through his lips but what really made her vision blurry was the end of his sentence.

"O-Oh, that's so... that's so sweet, Luke. It isn't finished yet though," she frowns, biting her lip as he seems to deflate.

"Oh, well maybe next time then," he says sadly and the look on his face is enough for her to grab his hand as he starts to turn.

"Wait! I-I can show the parts I do have," she says, making his smile appear once again.

The boys all crowd around her, making her feel extremely nervous but with Luke's encouraging smile, she places her still shaking hands over the keys.

When it rain it pours but you didn't even notice

It ain't rainin' anymore, it's hard to breathe when all we know is

The struggle of staying above, the rising water line

She continues the song, trying to his cracking, nervous voice, until she no longer has any lyrics, trailing off with a quiet hum and shaky exhale. "That's all I've got so far," she looks up to see the four boys grinning at her widely.

"She's perfect, Luke," Calum says over to Luke proudly and Ashton nearly jumps up and down.

"Such a smart breadstick, you!" Ashton pats him hard on the back as Michael continues to smile but stay the calm one.

"I don't understand," Aurora nervously picks at her bottom lip as they continue to talk excitedly amongst themselves. That's when she realizes her music journal that was testing on the piano is in Ashton's hand and they are all flickering through the pages with excited grins.

"Um, excuse me," her eyebrows are now furrowed as they read her personal songs and words from her heart and Luke looks up as they hear the edge in her tone.

"Sorry, Ro," He yanks the journal out of their hands and places it back on the piano with an apologetic wince. "I think we owe an explanation." When she nods annoyed, he gulps and continues. "We are in a band called 5 Seconds of Summer."

"I know this... Plus, there's only four of you," she deadpans as Ashton snickers in the back.

"Anyway! We are in a band and we are looking for an opening act and someone to sign, but we didn't want anyone to mainstream or famous. We think you'd be perfect to open for us."

Aurora stares up at them in shock, her mouth becoming dry.

“So... what do you say?” Luke asks, his cheeks turning slightly red.

What should she say?

[only-lurkin-dont-mind-me]

A Scarecrow Named Cyrus (Scarecrow Monster x Reader)

With a sigh, you looked over the rolling fields before you. Rows of corn, a small cluster of apple trees, a fine crop of pumpkins, some potatoes, and a small assortment of herbs. All ripe for a good fall harvest. Along with the fall faring flowers growing here and there with a controlled wildness to them. 

You had expanded your efforts in farming this year, and it was certainly paying off. Sure tending to so many good crops was hard work, but nothing you weren't capable of handling. Your little town could thank the roughness of your hands and your gentle nurturing attitude for such fine results. 

With October finally arriving, it would soon be time to harvest and sell off most of your crops. Until then, you had to prepare for the pumpkin patch the town was eagerly anticipating. You had chosen to host the pumpkin patch this year, and you were out to prove yourself to some of the less than pleasant members of the town. 

Did those people who irked you by commenting on your capabilities deserve your attention? Of course not. Did you feel spiteful and eager to prove them wrong to piss them off? More than anything else. 

Looking over your rows of pumpkins, you saw movement that was most definitely not the leaves and vines. With a confused glance, you made your way over. Your footsteps seemed to spook two rabbits that had been gorging themselves on one of the smaller gourds. As soon as they caught sight of you, they turned tail and ran as fast as they could. 

"Damn critters," with a huff of frustration, you kneeled. Turning the pumpkin over in your hands, observing the now broken backside of it. You gave the pumpkin a sad pat, hearing the hollow echo as you plucked it from the vine. "Sorry, buddy, not much left to do now but call you the first Jack 'o' Lantern of the year." 

With that, you wandered inside your small home. Already thinking of what you could do around the decent-sized hole in the side of the pumpkin to make it look intentional. Maybe a sideways face with a big 'o' mouth? That might work. 

As you set the pumpkin down and set to work you pondered over the rabbits. This wasn't the first time you'd caught something in your fields. Even when you were out among your crops, there would be birds, rabbits, foxes, and the occasional curious dog having escaped its yard. 

You couldn't keep watch over all of your crops all the time. Farm dogs were great to have but were mostly used for herding, guarding flocks, or guarding property against predators, not running off birds at the sight of them. Even rat dogs like terriers only caught mice in the barns much as a good mouser cat would. Where did that leave you? 

As you looked around the room for a hint of inspiration, you looked to a little fall card you had been given by one of your lovely neighbors, Ms. Ruby Jane. A darling old lady who had a good herd of sheep and great skill in baking. you would often help her tend to alongside her dog, Russel. 

A cartoon scarecrow stared back at you on the front of the card. 

"Would that work?" pondering aloud, you carried the little pumpkin to your window sill and placed it looking out to the fields. With the thought of a scarecrow in mind, you began wandering the house looking for a few things you could use. 

An old red and black flannel shirt, A pair of work jeans that you hardly used anymore. One of your old sunhats and lastly, gloves that you had stopped using some time ago. All you were missing was some scrap fabric to stitch together it's head, and hay to stuff it. Excited over a new project, you dashed off to Ms. Ruby Jane's farm. You knew she always had scrap fabric and hay bales for her sheep that you could buy.

"Well, ain't this a nice surprise? Good afternoon dear, please come on inside," Ms. Ruby Jane held out an arm, inviting you inside with a warm smile. 

"Thank you, ma'am. I don't mean to barge in out of nowhere," you tried to apologize for the unexpected visit only to have her wave you off.

"Nonsense, I always appreciate the company," she wandered off to the living room, no doubt to her chair settled by the fireplace. You followed suit, finding your usual spot on her couch. Russel, her rottweiler, looked up to you with the same expression that always made him look like he was smiling. 

"Hey, buddy." 

Russel huffed in response and settled back down, not appreciating being woken up from his midday nap. 

Ms. Ruby Jane spoke in her warm voice, calling your attention back to her. "Not that I don't mind the visit, but was there somethin' specific you came lookin' for?" leave it to her to know when you always needed something. 

"Yes, Ma'am actually, I was gonna ask if you had any scrap fabric I could use for a scarecrow? I have needles and thread for patchin' my clothes but nothin' the size I would need for, well, a head. I was also gonna ask if I could buy one of your haybales for stuffin' if that's alright."

Ms. Ruby Jane stood slowly, "Of course, of course, I've always got somethin' in that ol' chest of mine that you could use. You just wait right here and keep Russel company while I find you somethin' you can use to keep those fields of yours in shape," with that she began walking up the stairs behind you, going to rummage around in one of those old rooms that she asked people to stay out of.

  Ms. Ruby Jane was a mysterious person to be sure, but her privacy was hers and not something to question. She had shown up in town one day out of nowhere. Her home seemed to appear overnight, her sheep coming from the woods that surrounded that same little home. She was always kind to you and made sure you were doing well. You tried to do the same, helping her find any missing sheep, shearing them on occasion if she was too busy to manage to wrangle them up. Getting her haybale loads to her barn, anything you could lend a hand with you tried to do. 

It didn't take long for her to return with a mischievous glint in her eyes and a brown piece of fabric, cut clean and sized perfectly for what you needed. As she handed it to you, it felt strange. Warm, most likely from her hands. The fabric seemed nicer than you were anticipating. "Ms. Ruby Jane This is some of your nice fabric, made for dresses and suits. I can't use this; I would feel bad," you tried to explain but quickly realized that she would hear none of it.

As you looked over the pictures on her walls, you never once saw any family photos. Pictures of places she had lived, friends she had made, some of her favorite animal companions, some paintings she especially enjoyed painting. You hadn't asked about any family, she seemed happy just her, Russel, and her flock. Who were you to judge? 

"Dear, I have nothin' left to create with this, I am askin' that you put it to good use and think nothin' of it bein' too much. You do so much for me. Let me pay forward the favor," she stated with a finality in her words that you couldn't find it in you to disagree. 

"Yes, Ma'am, I'll be sure to stop by again soon. I'll bring your apples from the fields. They're gonna be ready for bakin' by then!" You promised as you headed off back home, ready to start stitching your Scarecrow together.

"Of course, now you make sure to stop by mine again and let me know how it goes, alright?" Ms. Ruby Jane questioned as she walked you to the door, sensing your excitement with each step. 

After you got home it took a total hour to stitch up the clothes and stuff them, it took an additional thirty minutes to stuff and attach the gloves, another five minutes rummaging for an old pair of boots that you could put on the scarecrow, and that was it. All that was left was stitching together the face and attaching the pair of large black buttons you had found for eyes. As you went to grab the fabric strip Ms. Ruby Jane had given you though, you couldn't find it. You scoured the house for the next hour, unsure as to where it could have gone and you felt rather upset at that point. 

"Thank you, ma'am, that's real kind of you," the fabric held weight in your hands, more than what it should have. Then again, you weren't much of a tailor. You didn't know much beyond patching a hole in clothes, so what did you know?

'It's gettin' too late to keep this up,' you thought with a disappointed sigh. You looked to the nearly complete Scarecrow laying on your table. Walking over to it and placing a hand on its hay-filled torso, patting it lightly, you spoke, "Don't worry, bud, I'll find your noggin sooner or later, then we'll get you out in the fields. Till then, you just rest up. I'll see you in the mornin'," you began to walk down the hall to your room, bidding the Scarecrow goodnight.

It took three days. Each day you would greet the headless scarecrow laying on your table, waiting to be complete. You would talk to it like it could hear you while cooking, or cleaning, or just in passing. As humans do, you grew attached to an inanimate object and named him, Cyrus. The first day you built his post, a simple thing with strong oak wood to hold him high in the fields, with a prop for both his arms and his legs, to keep him from falling. The second day you worked on picking the pumpkins and laying them out for the pumpkin patch. On the third day, you were picking Ms. Ruby Jane's apples to bring inside and wash off in the kitchen.

"Now where in the world..." Your voice trailed off as you walked over to the Scarecrow. In its gloved hand was the strip of fabric you had been looking for. You cautiously picked up the fabric. Looking it over to check if there was anything wrong. Determining that it was just as you had last seen it. You looked to the Scarecrow in confusion, "Were you the one hidin' this from me, or did you find it for me?" You questioned jokingly, hoping to settle the unease you felt in your gut. 

"I'm tellin' you, Cyrus, the corn maze is going to be great this year, so long as we can keep all those critters from eating it all up before families come to get lost going through it," you jokingly stated. Stealing a glance at the lifeless hay stuffed figure, laying on your table still. That's when you froze up in confusion and set down the last apple you had been cleaning. 

"Well, I suppose it's a good night for some stitchin', full moon's finally out, and I'm done workin' for the day so I've some time to kill," Why you decided to stitch the head together, you still don't know. But, turning down any gift from Ms. Ruby Jane left a bad taste in your mouth, you'd put the Scarecrow together, get it outside come morning time, and if a day went by and all was fine, you'd leave it be. 

As you were cleaning the apples, you were once again talking to the Scarecrow.

It took less than an hour, and only that long because how do you stitch together a circular shape? You were able to figure it out after a quick youtube search and had it done in no time. you even got the buttons eyes on and all even.

Connecting the stitches to the body, however, felt... odd. Like someone was watching you, waiting for something to happen. It wasn't necessarily a bad type of odd just not normal in the way you knew things to be. 

Cradling Cyrus's head in the crook of your elbow. Holding together the head and the collar of the shirt in one hand, and stitching with the other. It was almost peaceful if not for the odd feeling lingering. The same feeling kept you from looking at the scarecrows button eyes as if they were actually watching you.

As soon as you were finished, you took a step back to calm your nerves. Staring at the Scarecrow with unease that soon dissipated. It didn't move. It wasn't like it was anything but a hay-stuffed creation of your own hand, you were just scaring yourself. 

You let yourself laugh at the ridiculousness of your fear. Feeling it melt away bit by bit. "Oh, boy I sure have been workin' too hard or somethin'. Can you believe that little ol' you got me shakin' for a minute there? Cyrus, I tell ya, I'm about a half a step from loosin' it some day's," You looked over the Scarecrow with fondness in your eyes, this was yours, You had made him stitch by stitch, and you scared yourself over your own Scarecrow, irony sure was funny sometimes.

  You stepped forward and reached a hand out to pat the Scarecrows shoulder, feeling the hay rustle underneath the shirt. "Sure hope you don't mind, buddy." With one final pat, you walked off to your room, ready to sleep and give your hands a break. "I'll get you out on your post tomorrow, Cyrus, sleep well," you called out behind you. Hearing no response, just like you had expected.

 Standing on the stepladder and making sure it's settled on its post properly and that the short rope pieces are holding it in place well enough. After deciding that the Scarecrow is good and secure, you place a hand on its shoulder. "Course you can manage this, you'll do just fine. Keep an eye on these fields for me while I'm gone and when I'm here if you could. Thanks, Bud," with a quick 'Goodluck' you climb back down the step ladder and carry it back to the barn before setting out to the daily grind. 

The next morning you did as you promised. Lifting the Scarecrow over your shoulder and carrying him out to the center of the cornfield, right to its post.

First up was watering the herbs and wildflowers; they were smaller plants, so you took care to water them by hand to ensure they didn't get the wrong amount, leaving the bigger crops to the sprinkler system. After that, it was trimming dead leaves off of the corn stalks to make them look more presentable for the pumpkin patch. Lastly, you dove into the corn maze, along the cleared paths you had marked down before planting around them. They needed some clearing out and trail marking, so people knew what path to stay on and didn't try to go through the corn... Again. 

Throughout all of this, you would keep an eye on Cyrus. He seemed to be doing his job fairly well. You hadn't seen a bird land or catch any grounded critters running amock just yet. Hopefully, the new factor of him wouldn't wear off and would continue to keep those pesky animals away from your crops.

"Cyrus, you listen to me now. Your job here is to watch over these here fields for me and, try to keep all those critters and strays out of these crops. Can you manage that?" You ask the Scarecrow with a playful smile as if it would respond.

Over the next three days, your heavy work outside paid off, and come nighttime you were ready to open the pumpkin patch. the sun was just beginning to set as people filtered in through the front garden archway. It was covered in vines from the pumpkins that had already been harvested and displayed in rows close to the entrance. After that, there was the entrance to the corn maze as well as a small stand for hot chocolate to warm up the cold night. Baskets of apples stacked closeby as well. 

There were even multiple wooden tables with pumpkin carving kits for those who wanted to get to carving. Lights strung about here and there lighted the areas as the sun fell further and further, and the many groups of people that had finally arrived seemed to be enjoying their time, talking and laughing. It was just a good night.

Through it all, your scarecrow did a wonderful job of scaring off any unwanted visitors. 

'It really was been a good idea to make him,' you thought to yourself. Enjoying the joyful air surrounding your pumpkin patch. A group of teens caught your eye, they were walking out of the exit of the corn maze, laughing and scaring each other. You didn't think anything of it until you heard their remarks.

"I'm tellin' y'all, that scarecrow came out of nowhere! Damn thing scared the shit outta me." 

"Aw did little baby, Jackson get scared? Poor baby Jackson!"

"Shut up, man. You saw it too."

"And? It was probably just some guy paid to dress up and scare everyone that he wants to. I mean honestly, what a life. Can that be my job?"

That uneasy feeling you had felt when first stitching the Scarecrows head together returned stronger than before. You were quick to make your way through the maze, knowing just how to get to the center where the Scarecrow was. 

Under the full moon, you could see the Scarecrow clearly as its head slowly, uncertainly, lifted, and lolled slightly in your direction. His button eyes somehow seemingly staring directly at you. 

As you reached the center, you realized that you were the only one in the corn maze, you couldn't hear anyone else nearby. Maybe that was for the best.

You jerked your hand away from him as you watched in terror as this hay stuffed inanimate object... moved. His head followed you as you took steps back. He seemed to consider your response before, almost dejectedly, slumping back into its original position. 

Staring in a sense of confusion, trying to convince yourself you were scaring yourself again, you quickly made your way back out of the corn maze. You made it out just in time to see the last small family leaving the pumpkin patch. Fair enough it was getting late, that also meant you were now totally alone. 

You looked up to your Scarecrow, unable to tell if his position had changed. "Cyrus? You're doin' a good job keeping all those critters off the crops, just try to remember that the people here right now are invited here, they're alright to roam around long as they're not breakin' anything', they're welcome here." You walked over to the scarecrow cautiously, patting its lower leg where you could reach. "You doin' good out here, Buddy?" Your voice grew quieter as you asked as if fearing a response. 

You turned back to the scarecrow to see His head facing you once again. You looked between the garden entrance, debating running to Ms. Ruby Jane's, and back to Cyrus. Wondering if you should go figure out just what, why, how, anything was. 

He had been up for days now, and you hadn't heard almost anything about him. If he had bad intentions he could have done something the first night he was complete and still in your home. 

With one final look to the entrance, you made up your mind and rushed out and away from your farm.

Ms. Ruby Jane seemed to expect your arrival as she had two cups of tea set out along with a tray of sweets on her coffee table. Something about her behavior was off, however. Even Russel seemed far more attentive to the conversation at hand. 

"Now what did you say he did, dear one?" She asked in an eerily calm voice, the light from the fireplace giving her dark skin an almost ethereal glow. Her eyes seemed far more focused than you had seen before. 

"He moves, Ms. Ruby June!" You quickly stood up and began to pace the room, fear now evident in your actions and tone. "He moves and has apparently been able to. I ignored those little things like that bit of fabric going missin' only to appear in his hand, his headless bodies hay stuffed hand! He's alive apparently, a scarecrow looking around like he's got eyes to see instead of buttons, movin' like he's got muscle and bone inside of him instead of stuffin', he moves!" You looked directly at her for the first time during your fear-induced raving, and any fear immediately melted away. 

She was smiling, a proud sort of smile a parent would have whenever their child made something new. 

"You. You knew he would, didn't you?" Your question came out more like a statement as you slowly sat back on the couch. Russel walked over slowly and placed one of his paws on your foot in a far too understanding way for your liking. 

"I knew that if you treated that scarecrow like you treat anythin' else, he would more than happily accept his roll on your farm as somethin', someone, to help you. I know that you're a kindhearted person, dear. You've helped out this ol' lady more times than she can count. All I did was give you the materials for him to be a walkin', talkin', creature. It was your heart that gave him that last kick to get his sentience goin'," Ms. Ruby Jane picked up her cup and took a sip of her tea, still as relaxed as ever as you processed her words. 

You looked up at her, with one word on your mind. "Why?" Your voice came out weak, uncertain in the face of powers you didn't understand. 

She looked in her cup for a moment before letting out a sight. 

Russel, immediately sensing the change in mood, moved to her side. She reached her hand out to pat his head as she spoke. "I can't stay here forever, dear. I'll be headed on somewhere new soon, and you have done so much for me over the years I've lived here. I had to find some way to repay you, so when you came here lookin' for somethin' to finish making that scarecrow with? I knew it was the perfect time to give you the chance to create someone who could keep an eye on you, and help you once I'm gone." She looked you in the eye as she finished explaining. "I am paying forward your favor, I couldn't leave until I had and now I have." With those words, something in the air seemed to shift. as if the house itself had let out a breath it had been holding for so long. 

You understood a fraction of the hidden layers to her words. Ms. Ruby Jane was far more than she appeared but didn't seem open to discussing anything further, so you nodded your head in acceptance of her explanation. 

"Thank you, as always Ms. Ruby Jane,"  her words calmed you entirely. There were some things you wouldn't always understand or comprehend, but at the same time, you knew you couldn't turn down this kindness.

She smiled at you once again, "Of course, child. Now you best run along, you shouldn't be out so late for too long," Ms. Ruby Jane stood and guided you to the door. Giving you one last hug. Russel followed beside her and waited for his goodbye pet. As soon as he was satisfied, you began the walk home.

Once you finally made it back home, you looked to the Scarecrows Pole. Only to find it empty. You had to remind yourself that this was a gift from Ms. Ruby June, and she would never gift something she thought would harm you. You didn't have any reason to be afraid. Unfortunately, logic isn't always what your heart listened to. 

Once you reached the center of the cornfield, you found him. Having managed to untie himself and climb down, Cyrus stood, slouched in front of his pole. Staring dead ahead at you. Waiting for your next move.

You took an uncertain breath and stepped forward, "Cyrus?" 

Any words you were going to say next were cut off as the Scarecrow stood up straight, and tilted his head back. A deep throaty gurgling sound rose from inside of his very much hay stuffed neck. 

You stared with a newfound horror as the fabric of his face tore apart in jagged pointed lines, almost like rows of fangs forming where his mouth ought be. As his mouth opened wider and wider, you saw nothing but darkness inside of him.

The very sight had you ready to run right back to Ms. Ruby Jane but you were frozen in place. 

He took a slow step forward, finding his legs and maneuvering in a jerky awkward fashion that grew more steady with each step. " ..My cre..ator" His voice was louder this time, trying to find the right volume, the right way to put together the sounds. 

Cyrus looked back down at you. And he smiled a wide joyful smile that made any thoughts of running stop. You watched as his new-formed mouth moved and shifted as if trying to mimic the way your mouth moved whenever you spoke. A rumbling voice rose from his chest as he tried to speak. "..m...My. cre..a..tor."

The words made any sense of dread vanish. Confusion and awe were all that remained. "What are you trying to say?" you questioned with a gentle tone, encouraging him to try again.

You took a few steps forward, an arm reaching out as he stumbled, ready to catch him. "Try again, Cyrus. You can do it," Your eyes shown with clear excitement and fondness for the creature in front of you. 

He looked to your outstretched hand and reached for it, slowly, cautiously, figuring out the movements as he went. "My," Cyrus managed another step, now only a foot away and having stopped walking. He slowly maneuvered his other arm, reaching out a glove stuffed hand to carefully touch your cheek in wonder. "Creator." Cyrus wore a proud grin over having found the words. 

You, in shared delight quickly wrapped the scarecrow in a tight hug, able to lift him off the ground and spin circles with ease. "Atta boy, Cyrus!" You set him back down and grabbed his hands.

Cyrus seemed to only grow in enthusiasm over your response, grin growing wider as he began repeating the phrase, allowing himself to fall forward into your arms once more. He finally fell silent, wrapping hay stuffed arms around you, completely content to settle into your hug for a good bit.

You couldn't find it in yourself to complain, still beaming, you held him tight, pride welling up in your chest. "Good job, Cyrus."

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Space Orcs, “Armor.”

A ton of changes have been going on at my college right now. So sorry for not getting this out at a good time. This is all my brain wanted to right today, because I am kind of out of it right now. but I hope you still like it. 

I was standing in the warm morning sun. It beat down onto my back as I stood, feet cool against the damp moss. A soft breeze whipped at my bare chest and stirred around the hair on my face and jaw.

I lean against the spear staring out over the horizon eyes narrowed as I attempted to spot any incoming hostiles.

The more northern clans had been encroaching on our territory lately, and our Sentinel said they were likely to mount a full scale attack within the next few lunar cycles. I tended to believe him. 

The thought makes me very worried, for one giant primary reason.

I am a human and these guys are Drev.

IF you don’t know what drev are you probably living under a rock but just to refresh your memories. Six limb 7-10 foot tall monstrosities with a glorious history of cultural combat practices. Humans: 5-7 foot tall monstrosities with a history of trying to avoid glorious combat whenever possible in lieu of chucking explosives at each other over long distances.

Yeah, those guys.

But about six months ago I had taken a trip to Anum to get my head back on straight. The war with the Burg had brought up some…. Deep personal problems I wasn’t aware I still had one of the primary ones being that I hadn’t yet gotten over what happened during Operation Steel eye, when the UNSC welded an exoskeleton to my spine and then shot me full of opiates and amphetamines

But that was a long time ago.

Still, the memories were sharp. I thought not thinking about them would solve my problems, but it turned out it just bottled them up to deal with at a later date.

So I had stepped away from the situation, taken civilian transport to Anum, the place where it had all gone down, and integrated myself into one of the Drev clans fully on their side this time.

I had left a lot of friends and family behind. I had left my crew behind, but I knew that this was something that I needed to do before returning, before actually getting back to myself.

Yeah, yeah I get that it sounds like some kind of new age bullshit, but I guess whatever works.

And damn was it working.

Maybe if it wasn’t going to work for my mental issues it would definitely work for any physical ones I had. 

I haven't been in this good a shape ever.

Probably look the best I ever have minus the bad haircut and short scruffy beard.

Hair which was still dyed green by the way.

I sense him coming before I see him, moving up from the rocks at my back. He isn’t trying to hide himself, but Drev are kind of like that in a way. They are quieter than they might first appear.

I still keep my eyes on the horizon.

“Jastish stadik?”

“je. “

He wants to know if I have seen anything, but I haven’t.”

“Juhkee zhe tsak tatal tanantahik.”

I stepped down and out of his way as he took my spot on guard duty.

“Ts Zhin.” I say holding up a hand in goodbye and turning back towards the village leaving him to stare out at the rising sun.

I take the shortcut, cutting down a shallow gully, leaping from rock to rock my feet sure against the stone and moss. Another chill wind blows past me causing an eruption of goosebumps over my back and torso. I glance over towards the mountains which have been more active as of late. The dark season is on its way, and I know that my time here is growing short.

I approach the edge of the village stopping when I see a familiar figure crouched over the moss plucking bulb fruit from where it grows in the fertile, volcanic soil.

I pull to a stop beside her old wizened form, “Nak.” I say 

Hijan looks up at me her warm honey eyes scrunching in a sort of smile. She likes it when I call her that.

“Tsata.” she beckons me forward, and I kneel on the moss next to her reaching out to pluck one of the ripe fruits.

She ignores the fruit taking my face in her hands to examine me turning my head this way and that.

She plays with my hair eyes narrowed with dissatisfaction. She rubs the stubble on the side of my face.

“Etatan.” furry 

I smile, “Yid zhe rekazi.” I know.

I don’t even bother trying to pill away from her hands as she tries to fix my hair. I have tried to keep it short, but cutting your hair with a hunting knife is never an advised practice, and even I know I have done a questionable job. Hijan has been doing it for me, but its not like she went to cosmetic school.

I look like a caveman.

Aside from the colorful hair, nails.

She brushes my hair back looking at me in a contemplative manner of some kind, “zhe tsajat tsa dadik.”  She finally says motioning me to follow her. 

She wants to show me something.

Curious, I stand and follow after her my feet passing over sun warmed rock. The sun is up now, and one of their moons hangs just above and to the right. 

We head towards her little cottage at the side of the village greeting others as we walk through the town. I can already hear the sound of the morning drills. 

One of the Drev officers nods to us from where he sits by his cottage. In his arms he holds a tiny bundle.

I've seen Latinar’s newborn, she's super cute, and he even let me hold her.

That interesting thing about Drev society. Once the kits are born, the father is the primary caretaker while the mother goes off to war. I mean this is primarily because the males are the only ones that can feed the kits. Ha ha they have pit nipples.

Yeah, you heard me right, Under either of their lower  pair of arms.

They have two even though twins for Drev are extremely rare, like stupid rare.

When the kit finally reaches its first lunar marker, the father will have the opportunity to name the kid.

He told me he’s thinking about naming her Ralata.

So he’s pretty much naming his kid dirt, but I suppose our connotations of dirt and their connotations of dirt are much different. He fades into the background as we reach Hijan’s cottage, and we step inside.

The moss covering the roof is mostly turquoise, so the light that filters down is almost blue. When it does, I am surprised to see a set of armor pieces resting against the ground glittering in the blue light.

I look at her, confused, “Nin tin?’” What is this?

She takes a hand and nudges me forward.

“Zhe teeya tsa nak chazi.” I made it for you 

Hesitantly, I walk over and kneel next to the pieces. 

Armor

Beautifully made armor.

Wide-eyed, I run my hands over the warm metal pieces. This is like nothing I have ever seen before. Like No Drev or human armor. Drev armor. This armor has straps: which most Drev armor doesn’t, but it is like no human armor in the way that it is designed and crafted

“Tsa sdarat nak zhegingish?”

I turn to look at her, “Well of course I want to try it!”

In my excitement I forget which language we are speaking, but she seems to understand, and is very happy with my enthusiasm.

She moves forward and shows me how to put all the pieces together. It is a very complicated system, and I am reminded that, like Sunny, hijan was originally trained as an engineer. The lower pieces buckle on, but the upper pieces slide into each other.

And there are a lot of pieces which interlock over each other thickest around my chest and shoulders. Some for my thighs and arms and shins. She even made gloves for my hands, which is kind of crazy considering Drev don’t use gloves.

I shift in place testing the armor.

It’s heavy, but not as heavy as I thought it should be.

I was getting a bit of a medieval feel, though in a way more badass way.

She stand sbefore me looking very pleased with herself.

“Wow.” I mutter

She holds up the last peace smiling, and I lower my head, so she can place on the helmet. 

When it’s all done, I look up at her, and I can see the pride in her eyes.

“Tsa cheekish.”

“Yid nezanin.” Of course, of course a thousand times of course I like it.

She beams with pleasure.

“Tsa Daklan!” You’re Amazing 

“Zhe rekazi.” I know

I laugh and after a second of thought, I hug her. She’s much taller than me, so I am pretty much hugging her waist like a child. She steps back a bit in surprise, but then seems happy wrapping all four of her arms around me.

Our moment is ruined almost immediately as the alarm is raised, and we break apart.

She points me towards the door, “Ajish.”

“J tsa.”

“Ajish! Zhe tahaji.”

Folowing her orders, I turn on my heels and run from the hut, the armor clinking around my body. It’s harder to run in this, but I am in good shape.

Outside, everyone is scrambling to assemble themselves together. I meet with a column of warriors as they race towards the side of the village.

They look at me with questions on their faces, but then turn their focus back to the matter at hand.

I follow after.

Orders are shouted, and we are directed into groups, battle pairs forming up. I wave the officers on, but one still stops to look at me, “Kayad tsa daeen tadish.” Should you be here

The question isn’t rude. In fact, he seems worried, but I wave him off, “zhe yahan!”

He looks skeptical but runs off.

A moment later a shadow darkens my back, and  I turn to see Hijan pull up next to me.wearing her armor.

She nods and I nod back.

My palms are sweating so bad.

I grip my spear more tightly 

I can hear shouting in the distance as our group begins to march. It gets louder and louder as we break into a light jog, and then a full sprint. We crest the hill…. To look down on a battlefield. 

[madame-morte-draws]

Consumed By Flames Chapter 1

Piper sighed softly as she unlocked the back door to her small cafe and went inside, a smile lighting up her face as she turned on the lights to the back room. It wasn't anything extravagant: her cafe was one of those older buildings that were more original to the town's architecture, and because of this the price was slightly reduced for rent as there were exposed bricks and pipelines galore. She found she didn't mind however, even finding it quite charming in fact especially with all of the plants, various décor, and shelves of books around which gave her shop a homey dark academia vibe. Humming a soft tune, the woman moved from the back of the cafe out into the main area, stopping to grab a black apron and put it on as her 'uniform' otherwise she wore whatever she wanted, as it was her shop after all. Smiling softly at the black rib cage embroidered over the torso, Piper ran her hands down it quickly to remove any unseen dust and got to work getting ready for the day. Luckily the floors were mopped and cleaned nightly, so she really just had to take the overturned chairs down from the scant few tables and set them up right, then just light some incense, turn on the lights, and the system for making sales. Piper pulled her cellphone from her pocket and looked at the time. It shouldn't be too early to send a text to Muffet. With that in mind, she began to slowly type out a text message awkwardly with one thumb while getting everything ready.

[Hey Muffet. What time do you think you will be over to drop off the pastries today?]

sent 6:50 AM

Piper finished getting the tables ready and turned to light some incense by the register at a small shrine which was littered with dried flowers, crystals, and a few bones. Taking a moment, Piper whispered a silent prayer under her lips while the smoky scent of lavender filled the small shop. Her phone went off with a little chime just as she finished.

[I'm right around the corner now. Be there in a jiff]

sent 6:57 AM

[Okay I'll unlock the front door for you ]

send 6:57 AM

Moving to unlock the door just as she said, Piper took a moment to look at the near empty streets of town, drifting off for a moment while looking down the street where the Monster District was located. After the Monsters had come down from the mountain, they settled in fairly quickly in the buildings at the base of the mountain, which had caused many humans to move out. But this only made more room for the monsters, as it seemed they preferred to stick close to one another. It seemed like quite the tight knit community from what she had learned talking to Muffet. Her little cafe happened to be located just at the edge of where the Monsters settled, and while she still did get a few humans coming into her cafe like the regulars, and those who weren't racist assholes, it seemed as if Monsters were slowly making up a larger portion of her customer base these days. Humans tended to fear what they didn't understand, and while the government did allow them to move into town and was trying to come up with a way to process all of the Monsters into the citizenship system, there were no laws to protect Monsters currently. Although the barrier had only been broken for a few weeks now, it almost felt like a lifetime at this point. So much happened in so little time. Piper took in a deep breath and ran her fingers over her ever so slightly pointed ears, and ran her long stiletto nails through some of her long hair.

When the barrier broke...something happened to her, and many others from what the news had covered. Those that practiced the Craft...witches. Something dormant awoke within them when the barrier broke, and now every practicer had magic not unlike the magic of Monsters, though more attuned to nature and its elements. The government quickly labeled them as such, Witches, and were still debating on what to do about those who had magic awoken within them. Piper thought back to when she woke up one morning to find that her apartment had grown into a jungle overnight, all the plants within her home overgrowing at an impossible rate. She had been so confused and lost, scared even, until she saw the news. It was quickly addressed that the Monsters and the barrier breaking had something to do with this, but scientists weren't sure what exactly, and until recently magic was only something in fairytales. It was strongly advised for Witches to be considered armed and dangerous until something can be done to 'control' them. She snorted, rolling her eyes before seeing someone waving a lilac coloured hand in her face.

“Oh shit, Muffet!” Piper gasped softly, flinching and placing a hand over her heart before taking a breath.

“You really should pay more attention dear. Here, I brought everything you requested. Where would you like them?”

“O-oh. Thank you Muffet, please come in and just set it on the counter.” Piper let out a small breath and moved to let Muffet inside, helping her with two of the boxes and setting everything on the counter. Muffet had been the first Monster Piper met, and upon hearing the spider Monster knew how to bake, and after trying a few things at a bake sale of hers, had decided to exclusively sell Muffet's pastries in her little cafe. It worked out as this building didn't have a kitchen of its own, and she wasn't patient enough to make pastries anyway.

“You're burning incense again today. Lavender?” Muffet asked while taking a delicate sniff of the air after having set out the boxes. The Monster began placing the pastries into the small display case beside the front counter with ease, and far faster than Piper could either.

“Hey, good sense of smell you got there Muffet, you're right.” Piper smiled at her friend though it was lopsided, given the long scar that ran from the right corner of her lip to at least two inches up her face in a crooked jagged line, and while Muffet put the pastries on display, the Witch went to make a complimentary cup of tea for the spider Monster.

“There, everything is in order Piper.” Muffet stood back from the display case and shut the sliding door before gently collapsing the boxes she had used to transport the pastries. “You changed your hair again, it looks nice. It reminds me of a blue flame.”

“Great. What kind of tea do you want? Rose? Assam? Oolong?” Piper smiled to the Monster expectantly. The Witch grinned at the compliment, running her hand through her long hair which fell in delicate waves to the small of her back in an ombre of bright blue, orange, and finally down to yellow with a small touch of purple at the top of her head mixed with the bright blue. “Thank you. I was tired of the green.”

“Oh, Oolong sounds interesting. Let's have that one.” Muffet tucked the collapsed boxes under one of her arms and waited patiently for Piper to make her cup of tea, watching her intently with her five eyes.

Piper prepared Muffet's cup, pouring some hot water over a strainer of dark leaves which seemed to flare up with a soft emerald essence of magic, and she smiled before adding the cream and sugar as she recalled how the Monster liked her tea. Before handing it over, Piper took a long tea spoon and gently stirred into the tea while staring into it, that same magic from earlier flaring up, and once satisfied, she gently tapped the spoon on the edge of the cup to prevent spilling before placing a lid over the cup and offering it to Muffet.

“You seem to be getting some semblance of control over your magic. It's better than when I first met you and you were having accidental flares all the time.” Muffet smiled softly and accepted the tea, taking a sip of the hot beverage before her smile widened. “An excellent cup as always.”

“Thanks Muffet. I'm still having flare ups of course, but at least now I can sort of keep it under control. My apartment wasn't overgrown when I woke up this morning at least.” Piper chuckled before walking over towards the door. “I infused yours with good fortune and energy today. Oh by the way—I'll send the money later today for the pastries. Time to open shop.”

After seeing Muffet off, Piper turned on the rest of the lights and turned the open sign on, luckily just in time for her first customer to come in. She greeted them warmly and took their order, happily making them tea and infusing it with a bit of her magic. She did this same thing before, though before there was no visible or tangible proof that she was doing anything to the teas, and some customers had even scoffed at her 'powers'. Though they weren't laughing now. Piper hummed softly as she worked and took orders, also occasionally selling books, and becoming excited whenever she saw a new face come in; in truth, she was hopeful that more Monsters may show up as her human customers had quickly dwindled to a small trickle, but who needed racist customers anyway? Certainly not her. Work continued at an easy pace as it was only Monday, giving her enough time to enjoy a simple meal in the back room between filling orders. Piper had thought about hiring an employee, but the shop was small enough she could manage on her own, even at full capacity. The Witch was enjoying said lunch when the bell at the door dinged, signaling a new customer. Taking a moment to gently pat at her mouth with a napkin, Piper stood and went out to the front counter to greet them. She was able to spot two customers in fact, and her eyes widened ever so slightly in interest at the new faces. They were both skeletons from what she could see, but both very different. One was rather tall, probably at least 6 feet and a few inches (thank you tall ceilings) and seemed to be wearing some odd sort of armor? It even had a cape! The other was much shorter in comparison, probably closer to her height of 4'9” but certainly at least 5' as he was taller than her. In contrast to the tall one's outfit, the shorter skeleton wore what appeared to be black gym shorts, a white shirt with a blue fur hood jacket, and...were those pink house slippers? Yeah, they were. The two seemed to look around for a moment, the taller one seeming more excitable and interested than the shorter one, who had a lazy yet easy going smile plastered on his face. He looked at her and his smile became a little tighter.

“Hello, and welcome to The Witch's Brew, what may I do for you?” Piper chuckled internally at the little rhyme she came up with to suite her cafe's name.

“HUMAN! YOUR SHOP LOOKS LOVELY AND WELL ORGANIZED! AND IT SMELLS NICE. ARE HUMAN'S HAIR NORMALLY SO COLOURFUL? SANS WHY DOES FRISK NOT ALSO HAVE HAIR LIKE BLUE FIRE?”

“Nice place ya got here..Muffet told us someone was selling her pastries, we thought we would come check it out as she said you made some pretty good stuff.” The skeleton seemed to be staring at her chest, then at her counter, her shelves, and various other places, before his skull seemed to visibly sweat. How did that even work? “Say you don't have a...bone to pick with us do you?”

“OH MY GOSH SANS! IT'S TOO EARLY FOR ONE OF YOUR AWFUL PUNS!” The tall skeleton nearly yelled again, causing Piper, and a few of her current customers to flinch slightly.

“Uhhh..” Piper chuckled awkwardly, before following the shorter skeleton, she assumed to be 'Sans' 's line of sight. Oh...oh stars. She had various animal skulls and bones strewn about the place as décor, and she remembered then that her apron had a ribcage embroidered into it. Was that like...indecent? Nudity for them? Was it like a shop of HORROR walking in here??? Piper scrambled to fix this mess before it started.

“Oh my stars..I didn't think about all of the bones I have as décor and..oh gosh uhm I'm really sorry, you must find it all terribly offensive. I wasn't aware there were skeleton monsters..” Piper reflexively put her hands over her chest to cover the image of the ribcage, and tried to offer a charming smile while also turning pink.

“Nah, we don't find it offensive, right Paps?” Sans turned towards his brother, who seemed to be inspecting a deer skull that was mounted on the wall by a bookshelf.

“BROTHER!! LOOK AT ALL OF THESE BONES! CLEARLY THE HUMAN WANTED TO MAKE US FEEL WELCOME!!” The tall skeleton turned back towards the counter and approached. “YOU OBVIOUSLY HAVE HEARD OF THE GREAT PAPYRUS AND DECORATED JUST FOR THE OCASSION OF MY ARRIVAL! NYEH HEH HEH!”

“Uhh...” Piper glanced over to Sans, who seemed to grin at her wider and offer a wink. The small woman smiled up at Papyrus warmly and offered her hand for the skeleton to shake. “It's so wonderful to finally meet you, Great Papyrus. I'm Piper.” Feeling still a little flustered but relaxed by their assurance, she gestured to the menu once Papyrus released her hand from his enthusiastic handshake. “Now, may I get you two anything today?”

“I WILL HAVE THE MANGO PASSIONFRUIT TEA! WITH MILK!”

“I guess I'll have a matcha latte.” Sans shrugged softly while still smiling widely at her.

“Wonderful I will have it out momentarily.” Piper collected payment and after it was in the register she moved to make the two skeleton Monsters their respective drinks, humming softly as she did so. Papyrus continued to walk around looking at everything with great enthusiasm which earned chuckles from Sans as well as Piper. She had to admit Papyrus was adorable and very likeable once you got over the near shouting. Sans stayed near the counter, but out of the way in case other customers came into the shop. He watched Piper move about while she made the drinks, the woman seeming to nearly float or dance around the area. It was obvious she loved what she did. Piper was whisking the matcha while the milk frother did its job, bright green sparkles of magic being whisked into the air with her motions when Sans spoke up, his eye lights watching her intently.

“So, you are a Witch then...”His smile seemed to falter ever so slightly, and his eyes flicked to her ears, spotting the point. “Heh, and your shop is even named The Witch's Brew. Should've seen that coming.”

“Y-yeah. My powers align with healing, and I am able to imbue positive traits into the beverages I make...do you...not want me to?” Piper continued to whisk his matcha, though it was a little slower as she waited for his response.

“Nah, you're fine kid. So long as you don't hurt anyone. That and I know Muffet drinks your stuff almost daily; and shes not dust yet.”

“Hmm, thanks for the vote of confidence. Sans was it?” Piper poured the whisked matcha into a cup and then poured foamed milk over top. She topped the drink off with a smooth and generous drizzle of caramel sauce before sliding the cup his way. “Nice to meet you. Already told Papyrus, but I'm Piper.”

“Yeah, nice to matcha too, Piper.” Sans grinned ever so wider as Piper snickered before taking the cup and looking at the contents with some hesitation before taking a sip. “Okay, I'll admit. S'pretty good.”

“Pffft---that was awful. Love it.” Piper beamed happily in a lop-sided way at him and gestured to his cup. “I imbued your drink with extra energy today.”

“Heh. Thanks. So you are pretty close to the Monster District. How did you meet Muffet?”

Turning to pour the tea that had been steeping behind the counter into a cup, that same green magic flared as she stirred in some honey before pouring milk into the hot beverage. “Papyrus, your drink is ready!” Piper winks at Sans and whispered. “I imbued his with a 'sense of calm'.” While waiting for Papyrus to get his cup, she answered Sans' question. “I was actually exploring the Monster District when I came across her bake sale. I tried a few items and I was hooked. They sell out pretty fast, so I think my customers find them pretty good.”

“WOWIE THIS LOOKS GREAT! THANK YOU, HUMAN!” Papyrus came to get his drink and blew on it gently before taking a sip. “THIS IS AMAZING! FAR BETTER THAN THAT SWILL GRILLBY SERVES.”

“Grillby?” Piper tilted her head curiously, looking between the two.

“Yeah he's a Monster like us, he owns a bar called New Grillby's. You should come check it out sometime. Best food in town. And if you're not one for burgers or fries the bartender is pretty...hot.”

“SANS! I AM TRYING TO ENJOY MY TEA! PIPER!!! DO NOT LISTEN TO HIM GRILLBY'S IS NOTHING BUT A GREASE TRAP!!” Papyrus seemed to stick his nose in the air, but it was obvious he was trying to hide a small smile.

Piper chuckled at the two, nodding softly before placing her hands on the counter. “I'd actually love to come. To be honest I've been wanting to try other monster food besides Muffet's pastries.”

“C'mon bro, don't get all...fired up. Paps is just worried that your stuff won't be able to..hold a flame to Grillby's.” Sans grinned wider when Papyrus behind him groaned loudly.

Piper blinked a few times, not sure why he was making so many fire puns, but she still enjoyed them. “Is it very far? I confess I haven't gone very far into the area yet.”

“Tibia honest, its just a few blocks down the street.”

“UGH SANS I AM LEAVING!” Papyrus, while trying to seem un-phased began to move towards the door. “THANK YOU FOR THE LOVELY TEA PIPER!” Papyrus continued to sip his beverage on the way out.

“You're a pretty punny guy, Sans!” Piper couldn't help but joke back and earned a wink and two finger guns from the short skeleton. She chuckled. “Well guess I'll head over and find it one of these days. Might want to go catch up to your brother, he looks miffed.”

“Nah Paps'll be alright. But, guess I should get goin' before he leaves me behind. See ya round, kid.”

“Bye Sans, bye Papyrus! Have a nice day!” Piper exhaled as the two skeleton brothers left the cafe. They were certainly an interesting bunch, and now her cafe seemed all the more quiet without their presence. Smiling to herself she got back to work, as it seemed more customers began to filter in. She hoped she would see the two again, perhaps even make friends! Piper thought about when she could head to New Grillby's as she got back into the rhythm of things, trying to rack her brain on what all those fire puns had meant, as she had a feeling it wasn't about her hair.

Piper sighed softly as she shut off the 'open' sign to her cafe and stretched, her back popping a few times. “Another hard days work..” She set about doing her nightly routine of counting the cash, wiping the tables, mopping the floors, putting back any books people had read and left out, and locking up. After making sure everything was locked up properly and things would be ready for her tomorrow, Piper left through the back door and locked up for the night with a smile on her face. The Witch took a moment to take inventory of her attire. She wore a dark grey crop-tank top, some mid-rise black shorts with garter straps holding up two mismatched thigh high socks:one black and white striped, and one a dark grey like her shirt. She also wore some chunky platform boots and one of those stereotypical 'witchy vibe' black wide brim hats, and the outfit was completed with a black leather metal ringed collar. Was this outfit appropriate for Grillby's? She didn't think to ask what the dress code was, and the place was probably far too new to have a website or any sort of Google reviews to give her any indication. Piper figured it was alright for Grillby's, and if it turned out she was under dressed, she would just show up on an off day when she could wear something more appropriate.  

Piper lived relatively close to the cafe, so often walked or skated to the cafe, and today had been a skate day. Sitting on a wooden pallet by the door, she switched out her chunky platforms for some inline skates she had in her backpack. Once she was ready, she stood and began rolling down the street, further into the Monster District. The sun had set, but it was still fairly early into the evening, so there were some monsters walking about who greeted her with warm smiles, and she cheerfully waved back. One thing was for sure, Monsters were far more polite and welcoming than humans were. It didn't take Piper long to find the place, especially with the large neon sign that said 'New Grillby's' in warm, bright letters. She took a moment to look into the windows, but they were that type of crinkly frosty style of glass that offered privacy while also looking classy.

“Only one way to find out now..”

Piper exclaimed gently to herself and sat on the curb to change out her skates for shoes again before stuffing the skates into her pack and walking in. Upon entering the bar, a warmth enveloped her that reminded her of being huddled under a blanket in front of a warm fire, and she sighed softly, relishing the feeling. It also made the outside feel comparably colder, so she quickly stepped away from the door and further in. Many of the Monsters looked her way, though they, like the ones outside offered nothing but curious and friendly smiles, waving when she did. So far so good, no one was telling her she wasn't dressed right. In the center of the bar sat a large table and she noted several dog Monsters sitting around it, seemingly concentrating on some sort of card game. She had the deep urge to pet all of them on their fuzzy heads and call them all good bois and girls, but she resisted that temptation, somehow and made her way to the bar. Piper was still looking around at everything when she came to stand at the bar, and slowly slid onto a stool before putting her backpack on one of the hooks conveniently attached under the bar for just that purpose. Feeling eyes suddenly upon her, Piper looked up and flinched slightly, finally seeing why Sans had made so many fire puns.

Before her stood a...well they were a Monster. Let's go with that for now and not assume. The Monster before her was entirely made of flame, though when she looked closely she noticed some hints of a jawline, hot-white eyes behind a pair of glasses, but no nose to hold them there, and no discernible mouth. The Monster wore a fitting old-styled bartender's outfit, and she had to admit, it fit him quite well. Was it a male? A him? Something about their being told her...yes. She could tell that this Monster was looking at her still, she could feel it though he lacked pupils or irises from what she could see.

“....” Though the Monster said nothing, they bowed their head gently, flames dimming slightly. Piper had the feeling he was perhaps..apologizing for startling her? Could he not speak?

“Oh, no no. No need to apologize. You didn't frighten me, just surprised me is all.” She smiled lopsidedly, but with much warmth, offering her hand out. “My name is Piper. It's a pleasure to meet you. A customer of mine told me about this place. I am to assume you are...Grillby?”

Possibly-Grillby looked at her hand for a moment, almost as if hesitating, before taking it and shaking her hand and nodding to her question, confirming they were in fact, Grillby. His flames also seemed to return to a normal brightness before he released her hand and stood back to continue cleaning the glass in his hand. He seemed to be waiting for something.

“O-Oh right. Apologies, may I please have an old fashioned, Grillby?” She watched as he nodded before setting down the glass he had been cleaning and went to make the drink for her. While she waited, Piper hummed along to the jukebox in the corner, watching Grillby make her drink. She was mesmerized by the elegant way in which he seemed to move, every movement was practiced and deliberate, making crafting a simple old fashioned look like an art form as he elegantly poured the liquors into a glass with practiced ease to not spill a single drop. Grillby added the remaining ingredients with care before finally garnishing the drink with an orange peel curl to complete the drink. He set the drink before her on a napkin and bowed gently like a waiter. Piper instantly knew he loved what he did, just like her and her tea.

“Thank you!” She gave another lopsided smile and took a careful sip of the drink, her eyes lighting up and looking at him. He was looking back at her, perhaps expectantly. “Grillby. This is. The. Best. Old Fashioned I've ever had.” It was slightly smokey and sweet and well-balanced and something in it seemed to tingle her tongue. Was that perhaps Monster magic? Muffet's pastries always seemed to have a little 'zing' to them as well. “You truly do make this an art form.”

Grillby's flames seemed to shoot a little higher, and she took that to mean he was happy to hear that. It was sort of..cute? How his emotions were expressed through his flames, if that indeed was what she was noticing. She could still feel his eyes on her, though he also looked around to make sure he wasn't ignoring any customers that may need him. Grillby's head tilted to the side again, in a silent askance.

Piper wasn't sure what he was asking without words, and had opened her mouth to convey such when the whole bar erupted into a cheer of a familiar name.

“SANS!”

“SANSY!!” Said the drunk bunny monster, off-que.

Turning around to look towards the door, Piper wiggled her fingers at Sans with a smirk across the way before looking back at Grillby who was, still looking at her for some reason.

“Sans was the customer that I mentioned who told me about this place. I run a small tea shop at the edge of the Monster community called 'The Witch's Brew' and he came with his brother this morning after hearing about it from Muffet.” Grillby seemed to perk up, nodding a few times while cleaning a new glass. Maybe he knew Muffet as well?

“Hey Grillbz. The usual. Hey Piper. I see you've already met Grillby. Didn't I tell you he was hot?”

Grillby seemed unphased by his puns and walked into the back room, presumably the kitchen to get his usual. Piper snickered, bringing a hand to lightly cover her mouth.

“Sans thats awful. Love it. I see now why you made all those puns today.” She took a small sip of her drink as the short skeleton sat down beside her. “Not to talk about Grillby behind his back, but is there something wrong with me being here? Am I dressed down too much? He hasn't said a single word to me.”

“Oh yeah, he doesn't talk much, you get used to it.” Sans did give her a once over now that they weren't separated by a counter anymore. “You look good to me, kid.” Sans even punctuated his sentence with a double raise of his brow bones...say, how the hell did that even work? Magic, she surmised.

'Was, was he flirting with me just now?' Piper thought, squinting at him a moment. She liked to consider herself an intelligent woman, but sometimes things did go over her head. Grillby came back out of the kitchen and set a burger down before Sans along with a bottle of ketchup before turning to her, expectantly.

“Oh, hmmm how about some fries? Please.” Piper gave another lop-sided smile as he nodded and returned back into the kitchen to make her order. Looking over towards Sans she noticed he was...practically drowning his burger in the stuff, and even took a swig from the fucking bottle. She couldn't help the small gag that escaped her. “Oh Sans...you must really like ketchup.”

“Yeah it's pretty good stuff. Goes well with this burger while I...ketchup with my friends.”

Piper giggled, covering her mouth again with one hand before taking a sip of her drink. “Okay, that one was truly terrible. A disaster, really.” She snickered slightly. Piper caught onto something, and perked up. “Wait are you saying we are friends?” She gave the skeleton a hopeful look.

“Yeah kid, you seem pretty alright to me. Paps really likes your tea by the way, so I think you've got yourself a new regular.” He smiled lazily at her in between digging into his burger.

“Oh that's so grand to hear!” Piper exclaimed as Grillby came out with her food and set the plate of steaming hot fries before her. “Thank you, Grillby. It looks absolutely wonderful.”

The fire element's flames once again rose higher in a sense of mirth, and he bowed for her just as he did with the drink. Again, he looked at her expectantly, perhaps asking if she wanted anything else.

“Do you have any malt vinegar?”

Grillby tilted his head slightly, appearing confused, before shaking his head.

“Oh. No worries, I'm sure its delicious even without.” As if to prove her point, Piper began to dig into her fries and offered a silent double thumbs up to Grillby as her mouth was full, now doing a strange little wiggling motion as she ate. “Yup. I was right. Its immaculate.”

The fire Monster seemed to suddenly became..shy? He rubbed the back of his neck, his flames growing brighter at the center of his face before he seemingly calmed down and nodded and moved off to tend to some patrons that had called him. Piper's eyes trailed after him for a moment before looking back to Sans, who was looking at her in a contemplative manner.

“What?”

“Oh, nothing kid. So how long have you had your place up?” Sans turned to her in his seat, burger finished, though he still clutched a bottle of ketchup in his phalanges. Piper could feel eyes on her again, and could tell Grillby was nearby, perhaps listening.

“About four years now. When I was little I always wanted to play make-believe tea parties and run a little cafe my dad made out of cardboard boxes for me. I decided to turn make-believe into my reality I suppose you could say.”

“You ever had any trouble from being a Witch?” Sans asked carefully, though he seemed genuinely curious, and his eye lights flicked off to the side, perhaps at Grillby.

“Actually not really. When I first opened up, people thought it was just a themed cafe, and it became popular. Once people found out I practiced legitimately, some did leave, but that's okay with me.” She brushed some of her hair behind a pointed ear. “Though ever since the barrier broke a lot more have left...” Piper took a contemplative sip of her drink, finishing it off. “I just wish to make delicious drinks for others, and offer them a nice environment to come in an relax, read, whatever they wish.”

“Seems like you and Grillby are on the same..page on that front.”

“Sans that's horrible. I love it.” Piper chuckled before turning her eyes towards Grillby. He nodded towards her, gesturing towards her empty drink, asking if she wanted another. “Oh, no thank you. I shouldn't drink too much as I have to skate home.” This got a tilt of the fire Monster's head. “I don't live very far from my cafe, so I either walk or skate to work. Today was a skate day.” He seemed to nod, and then return to cleaning glasses, taking the empty one of hers and cleaning it out.

“It must be..wheel convenient to live so close to work.”

“Sans you're going to make me choke.” Piper laughed lightly, covering her mouth again, which earned double finger guns from Sans.

After that the three fell into a companionable silence, Sans and Piper trading puns here and there, or talking more about her work and Grillby listening silently, nodding or shaking his head when he was included in the conversation. After some time, Piper looked at the time on her phone and winced.

“Yeesh, I should get going home. I didn't realize how late it was.” She was mentally groaning, knowing she was going to be tired tomorrow. Luckily it was only Tuesday, so not a very busy day again. Clapping her hands together in a prayer like gesture, Piper bowed her head slightly towards Grillby. “Thank you so much for the delicious food and drink Grillby. I would love to return the favor sometime and make some tea for you.” She looked up to see his flamed diminished slightly, shaking his head. It didn't take her long to realize why.

“Oh! You cannot have tea because it is water based. I am sooo so so sorry, Grillby. That was highly inconsiderate of me.” Piper frowned slightly as he seemed to shake his head again, offering a placating gesture with his hand that she knew meant 'it's alright, no offense taken'. Piper smiled at this before rummaging around her backpack for her wallet. “And how much do I owe you?” Grillby seemed about to try and answer her when Sans spoke up.

“Just put it on my tab, Grillbz.”

“What? Sans no, you already are my customer. I cannot let you also pay for my meal and my drink.” Piper looked to Grillby who seemed to be siding with Sans on this one. “Ugh. Men!” She giggled however, as she stood up and retrieved her backpack. “Fine then bone-boi, but your next two drinks are on the house. No ifs, ands, nor butts.” Sans widened his grin at her, and she swore she saw an ever so slight dusting of blue on his cheeks but, skeletons couldn't blush could they?

“Need someone to wheel you home, Piper?” Sans asked with a lazy smile, hands now in his jacket pockets in a nonchalant manner.

“Nah I'm alright. Thank you though Sans. And thank you again, Grillby, it was an absolute pleasure meeting you and dining in your fine establishment.” She offered a small semi-formal bow to him and when she looked up...oh he was definitely blushing now. A soft crackling of fire resounding in what she thought might be like a chuckle for him, as his shoulders shook slightly and he rubbed the back of his neck again, the center of his face having the barest hint of a blue flame.

“Oh hey let me see your phone for a sec.” Sans interrupted the moment, holding out his hand.

“Oh? Okay..” Piper retrieved it from her pocket and set it in his hand, back side up. Sans chuckled upon seeing her phone case had skeletons doing yoga on it before turning it over and typing in something. He handed it back to her.

“Added my number for ya, since we are friends.” Sans grinned at her.

“Oh thank you Sans. I'll text you so you have my number too.” Piper sent him a quick text, smiling at the little chime that came from Sans jacket pocket, a square lighting up against the fabric. “Okay. I'm off. Grillby, you should come by sometime, even if you can't enjoy the tea. I'm sure I can figure something out.” The fire Monster in question nodded softly, his flames going a little higher for a moment. “Okay, goodnight guys.” Piper made her way out of the bar and sat on the curb to change into her skates. Once she got home, showered, and finally laid down in bed, she was out like a light, only having just remembered to set out clothes for work tomorrow and make sure her alarm was activated. Piper fell asleep with a wide lopsided smile upon her face and a warmth in her heart she hoped to feel again.

“So Grillby. What did you think of Piper?” Sans asked while sitting at the bar, still drinking from a bottle of ketchup.

Grillby's mouth formed into a smile, and he spoke softly with a crackling voice to relay exactly what he thought about the short Witch.

[atxlxs]

Beyond The Veil: Chapter 8

There was one stupid stereotype that seemed consistent in vampire lore that humans have written.

They tended to paint Vampires as creatures with very minimal or muted emotions that only really show said emotions when in relation to amusement or anger, and depending on the novel; sadism. That was a load of bullcrap.

First of all, most vampires have normal emotional levels. After all, most of them were human at some point. It’s just as time passes, they get incredibly good at either hiding their emotions, or mellowing out under years of experiences and logic. Eras was born the way she is, so she just experienced emotion differently than most.

She just prefers to ruthlessly stomp the feeling out of existence in order to embrace logical processing. She still feels the emotion! Just hours later when she's ready to process it and it has shrunk into a minor inconvenience. The problem with that though is that when something does manage to get to her, it hits hard.

Currently, Eras was sitting in her car while calmly letting the tension that had been building leave her shoulders. After 4 meetings that could have, quite frankly, fucked off and been an email; she was tense and annoyed.

This was not at all improved by the insistent ringing of her phone.

Without checking the number, a rare occasion for her but she was stressed, Eras answered and placed the phone on her ear. She could barely hold back the snap that wanted to peek through as she kept her voice level and polite.

“Hello, may I inquire as to the purpose of this call?” Was she defaulting to formal speech to prevent her frustration from coating her words? Yes, yes she was.

A feeling of wrongness from that morning pricked under her skin when she was answered by the voice of Nedzu.

“Ah yes, Viridis-san correct?” a skeptical hum of agreement prompted Nedzu to continue, “Great! I’m calling to inform you of a serious matter and I must ask, are you able to listen at this specific moment?” The faux cheerfulness Nedzu presented was not thick enough to hide his notes of seriousness from her keen hearing.

The feeling started to boil.

“Yes, I am.” This time, some of her curtness leaked through. She has had enough with pleasantries at the moment.

“Alright, I’ll just be forward then. Currently, due to a training mishap during All Might's foundational heroics class Viridis Muska is currently on bedrest in the infirmary, healing burns from an explosive attack from one of our other students. She’ll make a full recovery without any scarring since it wasn’t too serious thanks to another teammate who dragged her out of the way, however she’ll be sleeping for a few hours considering she was on low energy before Recovery Girl healed her.”

Eras almost snapped the steering wheel off with how hard she was gripping it. A stillness impossible for those that breathe settled over her like a blanket as her blood burned its way through her veins. Its toxic properties popped in her head as it ran simulations for various scenarios she could act on. First, though, she had an idiot to check on.

“Thank you for informing me.” Her voice was cold, and deceptively calm, “I’ll be showing up in 10 minutes. I am meeting my ward first and then I’ll need some questions answered. None of this is optional. I’ll see you soon, Nedzu.”

There was 25 minutes between where Eras was currently and her destination.

She showed up in the promised 10.

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All Might stared at the phone on Nedzu’s desk like it had just signed off on his will and dug his grave.

To be fair though, it kind of did.

Shouta would grin his cheshire grin in sadistic glee at that if he wasn’t worried about what had just happened as well. Nedzu, surprisingly and hauntingly, was not smiling. His face is dark and serious. Shouta couldn’t blame him though. Viridis Eras could kill with her tone of voice alone.

He had never been so effectively threatened by words not even targeted at him before.

He sighed and got up from leaning against the wall. He turned towards Nedzu who had tracked the movement with his ears.

“I’ll go and head to the parking lot, She’ll need a guide.”

He was dismissed with a nod and he ignored the fearful stare that was pleading in his direction as he left. He shouldn’t have conducted fucking battle trials if he wanted a savior. Shouta was still pissed off about that. He also had tapes to watch and testimonies to get when deciding on future punishment. The Bakugo’s had been called and were heading in the school’s direction as well but considering Viridis would be their first? Hizashi had gotten off scot free when he stole his coffee this morning so he could deal with them. If they were anything like his student? Well...

Shouta Aizawa was not ashamed to admit he was a very petty man.

He sighed as he finally reached the parking lot gate. Leaning against the side and taking out a jelly pouch to pass the time while also getting some kind of nutrients, He had hoped that Viridis would take a bit longer so he could catch a break, but that’s definitely not happening.

He was proven right when in the next 5 minutes a black jeep pulled into the parking lot space closest to the gate where he was standing. Straightening his posture from the slouch it had been, he didn't want to make a worse impression, Shouta watched with hawk eyes as Viridis exited the vehicle and walked over to him.

She was around 171cm but that was probably due to the heels adding on some height. Hair, that was styled in a sleek bob cut, would blow in the wind occasionally. Revealing perfect snow white hair underneath black. As the distance rapidly closed between them, Shouta noticed the beauty mark that sat on the left of a smile that put Nedzu’s politely pissed one to shame. Eyes that were a darker black than his own, did not hide the angry cat like slits they held in them. He felt a shudder try to work up his spine the closer she got and he mercilessly pushed it down.

Once she was close enough, Shouta gave her a quick meaningful bow before talking.

“Hello Viridis-san, My name is Aizawa Shouta,” returning to full height he noticed the tattoo he had been trying to see from a distance turned out to be a snake wrapped around her neck and biting its own tail, “I’ll be your guide to the infirmary and then afterwards to Nedzu’s office. I’m also your ward’s homeroom teacher.“

Eyes seemed to pierce through him as they racked down his body with an assessing gaze.

“I see,” and wasn’t that voice the definition of syrupy sweet? “As you know the name is Viridis Eras, however just call me Eras. I’m not only used to it but with more than one Viridis, things will get confusing. Lead the way.”

With that command, Shouta turned around and immediately headed for the infirmary. He could only pray, despite not believing in such things, that they would all get through this alive.

Minus Yagi.

Shouta was pretty damn sure the man would be lucky to still walk after this.

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

As Aizawa led her to the infirmary, Eras took the time to focus on calming down.

Thankfully, she hadn’t snapped the man's head off when he had introduced himself. He was nice, definitely has the voice of a god, and… She's getting off track.

Aizawa doesn’t deserve the snappish angry attitude she had at the moment. That was reserved for All Might, and possibly Nedzu, due to his involvement in the cause of whatever the fuck she was walking to go see.

They reached the infirmary relatively fast, and Aizawa knocked twice before opening the door and stepping aside to let her walk in first. Stepping over the entryway, she immediately snapped her head to where Muska was lying on a bed talking to a teen next to her with the greenest curls she had ever seen.

That however, was the least of her concerns.

“Oh, Hey Eras.”

Eras was at her side within seconds. She assessed any and all bandages she could see, which compared to greenie in front of her was relatively few. The skin that wasn’t covered was red but in the sensitive way skin is after coming in contact with something hot. Nothing was scarred. Releasing the tension in her shoulders, Eras slumped into the seat next to her best friend's infirmary bed.

“Hey Muska, you just had to give me a scare huh? I almost broke my steering wheel when I received the phone call.” Eras narrowed her eyes but the glare had no heat.

The little shit just cackled at the thought of her friend breaking a steering wheel, again, and gestured to Green boy as she calmed down. Said boy looked like a deer in headlights at the action.

“Meet Midoriya Izuku, he’s the one who pulled me away from PomPom boy's blast and honestly could use more of your fretting than me.” Muska said, a shit eating smirk on her face as said boy ‘eeped’ at that. He was also blushing fiercely and stuttering out reassurances along with trying to downplay the role he had in helping Muska. Oh, this is red flag boy.

Eras inclined her head slightly and smiled a more genuine smile, still not showing teeth though. The nervous teen relaxed slightly at it. Good.

“Thank you for that Midoriya. I appreciate you saving my friend like that. Are you alright as well?” she asked, eyeing the bandages wrapped around his arms and torso. Muska just muffled a snort at her wording. So what if the last thing she heard her say that morning was "dictator daddy's all have that condescending smile." She could be formal! It's called a customer service voice for a reason.

When he tried to brush off the damage they could both see, Muska sighed and turned to Eras. Gesturing to her mouth and then to her neck, she pretended to swipe it and played dead. Eras snorted and just sighed afterwards. Shaking her head to say no she was not about to murder a public figure. Maim though....

“As long as you’ll heal alright then I guess it was fine. Really though, Midoriya, I owe you. If you ever need anything, let me know." Muska's eyes widened at that and snapped to Eras who just shook her head once again, "Muska, I don’t plan on it but it’ll be close. I’m pissed and it’s not really leaving just yet. I’ll be entering a meeting after this visit and I have a feeling the Bakugo’s were already called in as well.”

Muska nodded along until the Bakugo part. Then she had a constipated look on her face before leaning in and whispering.

“He needs therapy, his emotions had run wild during the exercise and I don’t think this was a product of just anger. This feels conditioned.”

Eras gripped the chair at that. Gritting her teeth, she nodded. Giving a slight bow to a still sputtering Midoriya, Eras walked out the infirmary door and closed it quietly. Aizawa leaned against the wall to the left and she took a few seconds to appreciate the silence before nodding in his direction. Luckily for All Might. Seeing Muska had calmed some of the anger she was still feeling.

She had a rat to go meet.

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

Tags:

@baguettehead

[eddieeatsass]

I’ll Trade you a Myth for a Kiss

Summary: “Derry’s kissing bridge was a little slice of romance in an otherwise unromantic town. Derry Maine didn’t exactly inspire one’s heart to soar, but something about that bridge caused a fluttering in the hearts of every person that passed it. Richie didn’t believe the myth. He was well past the age where he listened to make believe stories about true love and the promise of forever. Real life didn’t hold such fates, if it did, Richie wouldn’t be a closeted gay kid painfully in love with his straight best friend.” Pairing: Reddie Rating: T

Read on AO3

Derry’s kissing bridge was a little slice of romance in an otherwise unromantic town. Derry Maine didn’t exactly inspire one’s heart to soar, but something about that bridge caused a fluttering in the hearts of every person that passed it.

It wasn’t that the bridge was particularly beautiful, in fact it was pretty ugly with its decaying wood frame, rickety beams that split and splintered any hand that touched them, and sun-faded paint job.

It was the lore attached to the bridge, passed down through the hushed whispers of Derry residents for decades, that lured people into its hold. It was said that if you kissed someone under the bridge, they would be solidified as your soulmate; a metaphorical binding of spirits between two lovers.

Richie didn’t believe the myth. He was well past the age where he listened to make believe stories about true love and the promise of forever. Real life didn’t hold such fates, if it did, Richie wouldn’t be a closeted gay kid painfully in love with his straight best friend.

So, be it the fact that there was no actual evidence to the validity of the tall tale, or the fact that that very bridge had been the location at which his dear friend Ben had almost been murdered by Henry Bowers and his goons, Richie just didn’t have that much faith in the bridge’s supposed positive energy.

Much to Richie’s dismay, however, his cynicism didn’t do much to deter the way his heart rate spiked when he found himself sitting under that very bridge in the company of said best friend.

 They hadn’t planned on ending up here. Their day had started out much like any other; they’d met their friends at the quarry, soaked themselves and their undergarments in the deep jade water before laying out in the sun to dry. Music rang from Beverly’s small portable radio as they shared jokes and stories until the sun began to set.

They’d all gone their separate ways when there’d been no more daylight to suck out of the sun, the presence of fireflies lighting their ways home. Eddie’s bike had been confiscated by Sonia for god knows what number of reasons, so he relied on Richie to be his chauffer for the day.

And chauffer he did. Richie relished in the tight grip of Eddie’s arms around his torso, the way he’d mutter a ‘slow down trashmouth’ against Richie’s neck when he went too fast, or the little yip that he’d let out when they went over a speed bump, soaring weightlessly through the air for one blissful moment before crashing back down to reality.

He’d enjoyed chauffeuring right up until the moment he rode over broken glass, popping his tire and sending him and Eddie tumbling to the ground.

They’d been lucky, veering into grass right before impact, so their injuries were minor. But Eddie still insisted to treat them before they continued home, blabbering on about infections and amputations and- Richie didn’t listen to the rest.

It hadn’t taken long for Richie to recognize exactly where they were. His bike had decided to commit suicide right next to the infamous kissing bridge, which he’d taken home a thousand times and kissed at exactly zero times.

 “Richie.” Eddie repeated, finally garnering the attention of Richie’s quickly waning mind. Eddie waved his small disinfectant pack in the air as if an obvious gesture of irritation.

“Right, sorry Eds!” Richie scurried over to where Eddie had sat himself down on a fallen tree trunk, a miniature pharmacy set out before them all thanks to his fanny pack.

“Let me see your legs.” Eddie instructed, already loaded with a disinfectant wipe and a look of determination on his small features. It was far too cute for Richie to handle, and it made his insides churn uncomfortably. As usual he defaulted to humor, hoping it would ease his nerves.

“That’s what your mom said last night.”

“Richie! Ugh, gross.” Eddie’s nose scrunched up in disgust and Richie’s plan backfired.

With a rosy tint to his cheeks that Richie prayed Eddie couldn’t see in the dark, he sat down beside Eddie and presented him with two freshly scraped kneecaps.

Richie let out a string of curses as Eddie began cleaning the wound, but once the sting of peroxide passed, he noticed how gentle Eddie was being.

“Batman or Mickey Mouse?”

Richie looked up from where Eddie’s hand laid gently upon his knee, meeting round chestnut eyes that reflected the moonlight. Richie’s mind went blank.

“What?” He asked dumbly.

“Bandaids, do you want Batman or Mickey Mouse?”

Richie’s heart did about three backflips before he was finally able to answer, stuttering out a weak response that was not up to par with his usual.

"You know I've always been a Mickey man, myself."

Eddie quirked his lips, not quite a smile but also not the annoyance Richie was usually met with. He watched as Eddie reached into his fanny pack and pulled out a bandaid, unwrapping it carefully before moving to apply it to Richie's left knee. It barely covered the scrape, but they both knew it was for show more than function. Eddie liked knowing he'd taken care of someone, the bandaid standing out like a gold star sticker on a quiz. He nodded to himself, satisfied, before moving to tend to Richie's other knee.

 The process was much the same. It stung when Eddie applied the alcohol, Richie's heart skipped a beat when Eddie got too close, and then there was a distorted Mickey Mouse stating up at the both of them from where it sat over bloodied skin.

Richie spoke before thinking, his mouth always faster than his brain.

"What, no kiss, Dr. K?"

Eddie rolled his eyes, but if Richie wasn't mistaken, he also noted a slight rosiness rising to Eddie's cheeks.

"We're not five, Richie. I'm not gonna kiss your knee better. Also, ew."

"Who said I was talking about my knee?"

They both froze; Richie, horrified by the deception of his own thoughts, and Eddie, shocked by Richie's boldness.

"I-I-I meant my dick." Richie tried to recover, his tone none too convincing. But bless Eddie, whether truly oblivious or just pretending to be, responded by smacking Richie's chest.

It caused Richie to tumble backwards off their makeshift bench, falling into foliage that almost entirely ate him up.

“Oh my god! Richie!” Eddie’s tone shifted into concern, his body moving faster than such a little frame should be able to as he leaned over to offer Richie a hand up. Richie, widely known for acting before he thinks, took the opportunity to pull Eddie down alongside him.

The sound of breaking tree branches, rustled leaves, and tiny shrieks alerted Richie to the fact that Eddie did not land beside him as planned. In fact, a quick glance around him confirmed that Eddie was nowhere near Richie any longer.

“EDS!?” Richie’s voice was high pitched and frantic.

“Down here, asshole.”

The response, though obviously irate, still brought comfort to his beating heart.

“One second- shit- I gotta- fuck-”

Richie was stumbling over himself, squinting his eyes as he tried to see any minute flash of brown hair peeking through the dark. Richie fumbled around in his pocket, grabbing on to the lanyard that held his keys and, thankfully, a small flashlight. It wasn’t much, but it helped illuminate that area where Eddie’s voice called from.

Richie felt horrible when he realized they’d been right next to a hill, and his action had flung Eddie right down it. He spotted a small moving figure right at the bottom, underneath the looming darkness of the bridge, and set off towards it.

Getting down the hill without falling was tricky, but Richie somehow managed it. When he came upon Eddie, the smaller boy was attempting to dust the dirt off from his body. Richie decided not to note how fruitless his effort was, instead allowing Eddie to believe he had some control over the germs he’d been unceremoniously thrown into.

“Sorry about that, Eddie. You’re just so tiny, you weigh next to nothing.” Richie tried to pass off his comment as a joke, hoping it would lead them back into their usual back-and-forth. He’d never actually admit that he loved how tiny Eddie was compared to him, because that would mean admitting a whole slew of other things that he wasn’t ready to face.

“Not everyone can be Andre the giant, you ever-growing fuck. It’s not my fault my body doesn’t want to become a skyscraper.” Eddie countered.

Richie straightened his back, beginning to feign confusion as he aimed the flashlight above Eddie’s head.

“Eddie? Eddie???” Richie pretended to search for him, looking left and right but always above the line of sight where Eddie sat.

“You’re obnoxious.” Eddie stated.

“Eddie? Is that you? Where are ya boy-” Richie’s joke was cut short when Eddie swatted the flashlight out of his hand. It hit the ground with a wet splat, landing in a pile of mud just on the edge of the water.

Richie laughed heartily. He leaned down to pick it up when his gaze followed the stream of light to where it pointed right at an etching in the wooden beam that held the bridge above their heads.

Richie walked closer to it, crouching next to the engraving and tracing it with his finger. In the middle of a heart were two initials: G + H.

“How much you wanna bet that one’s Greta and Henry?”

“A thousand bucks.” Richie huffed, rolling his eyes at the thought of them carving this into the bridge after sharing a cigarette musky lip-lock.

“Good, they deserve each other. They can rot together for eternity. Thank you, magic bridge.” Eddie tapped the pillar gently, as if patting someone’s shoulder.

“Come on, you believe in this crap?” Richie stretched back up to full height.

Eddie seemed to mull the question over in his head before answering.

“I mean… what’s the harm in entertaining the idea?” Eddie’s voice had a bashful tone to it that Richie had never heard before. It made his skin prickle with warmth.

“I just never took you for the romantic type, Eds.” Richie tried to soften his voice, encouraged it to come out a little less like a tease and a little more like a confession. It seemed to have the desired effect when Richie pointed the light at Eddie and noticed a blush on his cheeks.

“Have you kissed anyone down here?” Eddie asked suddenly, the boldness shocking Richie into silence (which was rare).

Richie instinctively puffed his chest out, a bravado thick on his lips and ready to be spoken, but it deflated as quickly as it was triggered. Eddie was being vulnerable with Richie in a way that he never was, and if Richie messed this up, he might as well be damning himself to a future where Eddie didn’t trust him with moments like this. There was no greater fear than that.

“No.” Richie answered honestly, kicking a nearby rock into the water.

“Have you kissed anyone?” Eddie’s voice was barely above a whisper, almost inaudible over the sound of the crickets and the trickle of the stream.

Richie’s heart lurched in his chest so strongly it almost made him lose his balance. His eyes bugged out behind his coke bottle frames, trying to make sense of why Eddie was asking these questions. With a thick swallow, he answered.

“Yeah, only twice.” He knew he’d boasted about much more, that if the losers had been keeping tally, Richie’s supposed trysts were up in the double digits by now. But he didn’t feel like lying or keeping up some kind of charade. Not here, not alone with Eddie. “Once in 7th grade with Trisha Saunders, and then at the beginning of 8th grade with Megan DeLaurence.”

Eddie nodded sagely, looking down at his feet.

“I haven’t kissed anyone yet. I think I might be the last of the Losers who hasn’t.”

The way Eddie’s shoulders slumped made Richie want to reach forward and hold him up. His fingers twitched at the effort it took to hold himself back.

“It’s not a competition, Eddie. No one’s judging you.” Richie said earnestly, taking a step towards Eddie’s frame. Was he shivering? It had gotten kind of cold in the time they’d been standing down here. Richie hadn’t even noticed the nip of September beginning to creep in, he’d been warmed from the flush of being so close to Eddie; something he realized he’d gotten accustom to any time Eddie was around.

“Eds.” Richie sighed, beginning to unbutton the long-sleeved printed shirt he wore over his t-shirt. Once he shrugged it off, he took another step towards Eddie and draped the garment across his shoulders, making sure not to focus on how it dwarfed Eddie’s already miniscule frame.

Richie had abandoned his tiny flashlight, allowing it to dangle from a droopy hand and angle light out into the water. The darkness sheathed them from reading one another’s expressions, giving Richie the false confidence, it took for him to lean in and press his lips against Eddie’s.

The kiss wasn’t long, nor was it filled with passion. It was probably closer to the type of kiss you give your aunt at Christmas, just a chaste peck on the lips. But despite the nature of the kiss, it still left Richie buzzing from head to toe in a way that no other kiss had done before.

Sure, kissing Trisha and Megan had been fine. Richie had chalked it up to experience, telling himself that the reason he hadn’t felt anything was because he wasn’t used to it yet. But with Eddie it was a whole different world. Such a small touch had made him lightheaded, left him itching to go in for more and not stop until his lungs gave out.

Richie realized then that the silence had stretched out between them, Eddie obviously confused and, Richie realized with a pang in his heart, probably horrified.

“T-there.” Richie tripped over his words, cursing his nerves for mistaking him for Bill. He cleared his throat and tried again. “There. Now you’ve kissed someone.”

Eddie still didn’t respond, and Richie’s heartrate began to tick up into something erratic.

After a pause that probably aged Richie ten years, Eddie finally let out a laugh. A small titter that dissolved all the anxiety Richie was harboring.

“You dumbass.” Eddie giggled. “Now we’re stuck together forever!”

Richie couldn’t hold back the grin that stretched his cheeks so wide they burned. If believing that him and Eddie were now solidified as soulmates meant also believing in some invisible universal force carried on for decades by a fucking bridge, then so be it. He’d believe in every fairytale ever told if it meant being with Eddie.

Richie scratched the back of his neck, a nervous twitch he’d had since childhood. He only hoped that Eddie couldn’t see it.

“Yeah, I guess I kinda screwed the pooch on that one huh.”

“I mean, there’s worse people to be stuck with for life.” Eddie countered.

“Well I am honored I’m not the worst.”

“That honor is gonna have to go to Henry.”

“Well, we don’t have to worry about him because he’s already promised to Greta for eternity. We’re clear.”

“Good. He can have Greta as long as I can have you.”

Richie’s brain stopped functioning, all reasonable responses escaping his mind. ‘As long as I can have you’. Richie would be repeating that to himself as a lullaby from now until forever.

“You can have me.” Richie responded on a shaky exhale.

Eddie’s breathing sounded just as unsteady as it filled the space between them. With nervous hands, Richie brought the flashlight back up to illuminate Eddie’s face. He was quivering, although Richie wasn’t certain whether it was still from the cold, or from the same feeling that had caused Richie’s limbs to feel like rubber.

“We gotta get you home before you become an Edsicle.” Richie teased, breaking the tension between them and leading them back into safe territory. Eddie rolled his eyes, but traces of laughter were evident in his small smile. He shouldered Richie out of the way gently, passing him and making his way back over to the hill that he’d fallen down.

“Well, you better help me back up this hill then.” He demanded.

Richie bounded over to him with newfound glee in his heart, vowing to never take the prospect of magic bridges for granted ever again.