#i wanted to type 'blacked out' but i dunno how to put it right so

[shen-mu]

Im in my emo era again and honestly? This song is kinda fitpac coded. Fit just faints every time and each time he sees Pac so close but he can't reach him and then he wakes up. alone Pac goes to sleep just to escape this awful feeling. he's alone again. He dreams about something sunny and then he hears Fit's voice. He turns around just to see....nothing. like, literally nothing. he wakes up alone

[tuktukpodfics]

The Problem With "Dao Swords": My love-hate relationship with pleonastic translations

An essay that no one asked for.

A lot of fanfics call Zuko’s broadswords “dao swords.” As a Chinese to English translator, this phrase makes me pause every time. Here is my humble opinion on “dao swords” and other pleonastic translations:

What the heck is a pleonastic translation?

I’m so glad you asked! “Pleonasm” is a fancy term for a redundant phrase, like “black darkness” or “burning fire.”

A pleonastic translation is a phrase that puts the source language and the translation back-to-back. A common example is “chai tea” which literally means “tea tea.”

“Dao swords” is a pleonastic translation. “Dao” 刀 is the Chinese blanket term for blade. The phrase basically means “sword swords.” Sounds pretty silly, right?

Pleonastic translations are bad?

I think it depends on your audience, the text purpose, and how special the word is.

In advertising, pleonastic translations can help increase a product’s searchability. Ex: “Longjing Dragonwell tea” would appear in a Google search for either “longjing” or “dragonwell.”

Tourist destinations often use pleonastic translations to help foreigners navigate. Ex: “Nanzhan South Station” on a map helps foreigners know what the place is, but also gives them the Chinese pronunciation so that they can communicate with their taxi driver.

In literature, a pleonastic translation is a succinct way to introduce a culturally significant term without a footnote or distracting tangent. A lot of translators will sneak in a pleonastic translation the first time the word appears in a text, and then use the untranslated term alone every time after. Ex: "He slouched on the kang bed-stove. His grandmother sighed and took a seat on the kang too.”

Is "dao" a culturally significant word?

No.

Dao is a super mundane word used to describe any kind of single-edged blade, from butter knives to ice skates. It feels weird to keep such a normal word untranslated. Using the Chinese word emphasizes its foreignness. They’re not just swords, they’re special, Chinese swords. 

Yes, words take on different meanings as they pass from culture to culture. That’s how language works. But English is also a unique case. Because of imperialism. I think English speakers have an obligation to avoid exotifying every-day words.

Also, English is a global language. Chinese speakers are reading your translation, and…I dunno...“sword swords” feels off putting. Disruptive.

But I want to acknowledge the real-life culture behind the swords

Giving credit to the cultures that you're borrowing from is an A+ idea.

...I don't know how to do this in a fantasy setting.

Zuko’s swords and fighting style is based on oxtail sabers (牛尾刀）and Shaolin dual broadswords (少林双刀). @atlaculture has a very cool post on oxtail sabers. But calling his swords "oxtail sabers" doesn't work because cows don't exist in atla. Shaolin is a type of martial arts that originates from Shaolin temple in Henan, China (Shaolin itself literally means “young forest”). But you can’t call them “Shaolin broadswords," since Shaolin does not exist in the Fire Nation.

It’s quite a pickle.

Maybe just use a footnote?

So what should I call Zuko’s swords?

I don’t know.

I think you can just call them broadswords. That’s what the TV show calls them.

Dao by itself could work too if you need to differentiate Zuko's dao from Sokka's jian (double-edged blade). Readers can probably figure out what dao means from context.

If it’s not clear from context what dao means? *sigh* ..."Dao swords" it is, I guess.

To end on a happier note, here is a video of Chang Zhizhao busting some sweet moves.

[jmdbjk]

Cannot wait...

Still a month away from watching these two be their adorable goober selves together:

I keep telling everyone around me I'm going to be insufferable for a while, with Jimin and Muse coming soon and then these two together, week after week ... makes me giddy. Sorry, not sorry.

We'll get teasers. I'm going to squee over all of those as well. Again, sorry, but not very sorry at all actually.

All of it takes me back to when I realized JK's 2022 Vlog was going to be centered around camping. Honestly? I was a little surprised. He has never come across as the outdoorsy type to me. But he'd never had the chance to express much of what interests him outside of BTS and outside of what we saw on various content through the years either!

This series of vlogs helped us see each member doing things they chose to do on their own and helped kick off the "solo" era in 2022.

Jungkook's delight in stopping at Korea's version of Buc-ee's and buying gas station food and eating to his heart's content was oddly satisfying. Maybe because I take great pleasure in doing such simple things too, after all, the best part of a road trip is stopping to buy snacks along the way, am I right? The service area where they stopped is called the Gapyeong Service area on the Seoul-Yangyang Expressway (60). These places are like a food court/mini mall. Just like Buc-ee's.

I am already laughing at the thought of he and Jimin stopping at a grocery store to buy deli pizza in Connecticut... IT'S GOING TO BE WOEFULLY SUBSTANDARD I FEAR!

In his 2022 vlog, Jungkook helped set up the camper he slept in and cooked and sat around the campfire drinking. And we know in past Bon Voyage seasons and other content, they've pitched tents and slept outdoors. All of these things he must have immensely enjoyed if we might be seeing them again soon with Jimin.

Then there's the recent story going around about someone spotting he and Jimin returning their rental car in Japan and learning Jungkook was driving... Jungkook got to drive on the "wrong" side of the road in Japan! He put that international driver's license to use finally!

From the preview clip the other day, it appears Jungkook also got to practice his motorcycle handling skills. Handling a Harley Davidson is a bit trickier than handling a smaller motorcycle. Those things are heavy. And it's a little different when you have a passenger sitting behind you. The two Harley helmets we saw sitting on the edge of his sofa last year... yep, he's had practice.

TMI: I was today year's old when I learned that motorcycles are banned on major roadways in Korea.

Are we going to see how Jimin scraped his knuckles while snorkeling on Jeju?

And that nekkid-in-bed live when Jungkook was begging him to come over and Jimin told him to look at the photo he sent... did Jimin get a black eye from being elbowed when they were sleeping?

And as I was running through my blog posts, I realized all of these things I previously said last year:

Me wondering if their trip to Japan was unstructured and spur of the moment...

I wondered if Closer Than This was a pre-release to an upcoming album...

I'm thankful to Tae for bringing JK along with his Wooga friends to that ski resort back in 2022. We can't know if JK had ever snowboarded before that but it appears he loved it enough to want to stick around long after they left him there. And now he had the chance to do it again with Jimin! I know they had so much fun together. At the beginning of this year, I pointed out some fun facts about Sapporo...

Skiing? Snowboarding? All of the above?

And save this for future reference, it's the onsen resort image we heard about and I mentioned in a weekly Bangtan report this past February....

Maybe none of the above will be accurate, but thinking about how much fun they had anyway has me very excited for August 8.

[mykneeshurt]

Heyy!

How would 141 + Rudy and Alejandro react to the Reader that haves a tongue piercing?

TONGUE BAR SUPREMACY ON THIS PAGE! I recently bought a new bar for mine hehe. Found out my husband used to have his tongue pierced but took it out. He won’t put it back in. The wanker.

Warnings - allusions to smut, smut themes, piercings, gender neutral reader

Price 🥃

The first time Price saw your tongue piercing was when you were helping him with his reports. When you concentrate you had a cute habit of sticking your tongue out slightly. He loved it when your tongue grazed your top lip, as you desperately tried to concentrate on the task at hand.

He noticed a small black ball in your mouth which peaked his interest. ‘What’s that?’ He asked nodding towards your mouth. ‘This?’ You asked opening your mouth, your tongue piercing now in full view. ‘I didn’t know you had that.’

You smiled. ‘Yeah, don’t normally advertise it, like to see how long it takes people to notice.’ Price swallowed, hard. All he could think about was how it would feel grazing along the shaft of his cock. ‘Why’d you get it?’ He asked, trying to reposition himself in his chair subtly. Dropping the papers you walked around the desk, standing above him you ran your tongue along your teeth.

‘How about I show you instead?’

Soap 🧼

Soap hadn’t noticed you piercing until he felt it run along his tongue during a heavy make out session. He felt the small metal ball run along his tongue as he swiped his inside your mouth.

He pulled back ‘you’ve got your tongue pierced?!’ He almost sounded excited. You nodded, partly confused. ‘I used to have mine pierced! Took it out a long time ago though. Might have to put it back in.’

‘Oh cool! Will it go back in?’ You asked partly agitated, you wanted to go back to kissing. ‘I dunno maybe you can help me?’

You stroked his face, ‘maybe. But if you don’t start kissing me again I’m going to punch you.’ Taking that as his cue he placed his lips on yours once again, satisfying your hunger for him.

Ghost 💀

Ghost first saw your tongue bar when you poked your tongue out at him one day. You’d been sparring and he managed to get you in the floor. Flat on your back, completely at his mercy under his body. ‘Gotta be quicker than that to catch me’ he quipped. Rolling your eyes you stuck your tongue out.

Noticing the silver ball embedded in your tongue he took a double take. ‘Didn’t realise you had it pierced’ he said, somewhat surprised. You shrugged, still underneath him. He hummed to himself as he lifted his mask, sticking his tongue out you saw he had his pierced too.

‘I fuckin knew it!’ You shrieked in excitement. He allowed himself a small laugh ‘oh?’

‘Yeah, call it my super power. I can normally tell when people have it done.’

‘What gave me away’ he asked lowering himself closer to your face. ‘I can hear you playing with it for one. Two. You just look the type.’

‘Not much of a super power if you ask me.’

‘Wasn’t aware I was asking you’ you smiled. Your lips were dangerously close to one another’s now. Little did you know but Ghost couldn’t have been more turned on than he was right now.

Gaz 🇬🇧

You were out on a date with Gaz, at your favourite Italian in London. He was finally home from deployment, he’d promised you a proper date when he got back.

You were tucking into your pasta dish when you accidentally bit into the ball of your piercing. ‘Aw shit’ you muttered to your self, checking to see if you’d cracked your tooth.

‘You alright?’ Gaz asked peeking over the rim of the wine glass. ‘Yeah, just bit my tongue bar is all. So annoying when that happens.’ Gaz did a double take, eyebrows furrowed. ‘You’ve got your tongue pierced?’ His mind instantly took him to the dirtiest of places, he placed his hand over his mouth to hide is smirk.

Scoffing into your wine glass you smoked ‘play your cards right and maybe I’ll let you know what it feels like.’

Alejandro 🌹

Alejandro noticed your tongue bar straight away, he always watched your lips when you spoke. Wanting to kiss them, make them his own.

He’d never kissed anyone with a tongue bar before, he wanted to know what it felt like. If he could even feel it at all. He day dreamed about kissing you all the time he just had to plan to make his move.

Rudy ❤️

Rudy first saw your tongue bar when you had all gone out for ice cream. It was a team building day and due to how hot it was, you all went to the local ice cream parlour.

You sat opposite him, ice cream in hand and as you swiped at your frozen treat with your tongue he noticed the small metal ball. The tongue bar left a small divet in the soft cream. A small drop of the vanilla ice cream fell from the corner of your mouth.

Boring your gaze into Rudy you licked at the stray drop causing him to flinch in the chair. Licking again at the ice cream you slowed your pace dawn, this time making sure he got a full view of your tongue bar. Biting your lip you winked at him before sauntering off to the toilet. Hoping he’d take the hint to follow you.

[imrllytootiredforthis]

Addicted

Pairing: Felix x reader

Summary: You’re obsessed with him, enchanted by him, too bad he’s taken...

Warnings: fem!reader, dom reader, sub lix, handjob, marking, slight humiliation, slight degradation 

Word count: 5k

A/N: I’ve had this written for like 2 weeks now but felt bad about posting bc i have a whole bunch of requests that i haven’t gotten around to. so if your one of the people that requested, dunno when i’ll get around to it but i will, i have like a million wips rn and i’m trying to get through all of them

It was a bad habit, you knew. 

Smoking.

You’d been a teenager once. Had the professionals talk about it, listened to all the same bullshit warnings; that your lungs would turn shrivelled and black-that cancer would bloom. Seen the pictures of the smoke-free lungs compared to healthy ones.

You knew it would end up killing you. You weren’t stupid. 

But they filled you with warmth, calmed you down, made everything feel a sort of numb as you stood out on the balcony of the apartment.

There was shouting inside, laughter and talking, the others all hanging out, having fun. 

You were supposed to be in there. Your step-sister-Avery had invited you, told you that you needed to make friends and get out more but you didn’t really feel as if you fit in with her type of crowd.

They weren’t actively trying to make you feel that way of course-in fact if anything they were very welcoming, asking you about yourself, trying to get you to contribute to the conversations, you just...

You didn’t know really how you felt, just that you told everyone that you would be right back, and now here you were cigarette hanging loosely from your lips, nicotine filling your lungs.

It was a horrible habit really-one you had thought about breaking dozens of times but never did.

You could stop anytime you wanted, if you wanted to but you didn’t need to yet so there was no point.

The slider door opened behind you.

At least smoking would take your mind off certain things.

“Why’d you leave?” Certain things like this.

Warm arms wrapped around your torso, head falling onto your shoulder into your hair, inhaling the smell of you. You and your slightly floral scent-perfume, maybe? 

Of course along with the pungent stale smell of the smoke. 

A smell that he hated in the beginning-it made his eyes water and his nose screw up in distaste. It was gross and bitter, a foul odour that reminded him of grime and dirty crowded cities.

But now the smell was you. It stained your clothing, lingered in your hair, clung to you like a second skin. It was addicting.

“Not really my scene y’know? Needed a bit of a break.” You sighed, twisting around to look at him. 

His hair had gotten a bit longer but you liked it. A bit shaggy and a bit messy but boyish, cute in a way that made you want to play with it all the time. He had talked about getting a haircut earlier that week but you’d managed to convince him not to. 

After all, the longer it is, the easier it is to pull.

That was your winning point to sway his decision.

“You should go back inside Felix. The others will notice that you’re gone.” 

He cocked his head to the side, hair moving along with the action. “Why? Don’t want me around?” A small pout adorns his lips with the question, bottom lip pushed out in a way that makes your heart do flips in your chest. 

You did.

You really, really did.

You wanted this more than you could even put into words.

Wanted to stay like this for just a bit longer. The feel his arms wrapped around you, his attention focused on you. Wanted for this to be a normal thing that happened, a normal thing that didn’t only happen when he was horny.

But he wasn’t yours.

And that was all just a fantasy.

You knew that.

You knew that too well as he nuzzled his nose into your throat, lips finding purchase against your neck. You took another drag, deeply sighing out, body shuddering as he whined for you to touch him-anywhere.

As he whined about how needy and desperate he was for you-somewhere-anywhere would suffice. As long as it was warm flesh against warm flesh, soft skin against soft skin, you touching him.

A moan slipped out, followed by another as he nipped at your pulse-point. “Please?”

His hands softly pushed your hair back, fingertips grazing your jaw, moving it out of the way for more purchase. “I need you.”

“Felix.” The words were a plead more than a command. A beg for him to stop, for him to make the decision you were too weak to make.

Because it was so hard to turn him down. So hard to tell him no because you wanted this-god-you wanted this so bad. Wanted to make him feel good, wanted to fill every single thought in that pretty little head of his. Wanted every single one of them to be you. 

You. You. You.

Only you.

Even if it wasn’t true, you loved to live in the delusion of it-the fantasy make-believe world where maybe, just maybe he could be yours.

“Please, touch me~”

The cigarette hung loosely from your fingers.

“Felix.”

His breath was hot as his mouth moved lower, down to your collarbone. “You know you want to.” He muttered lowly, kissing up your cleavage. “And I want you to.”

The smell of him, you couldn’t even name what it was but it was utterly intoxicating-so much more than nicotine could ever be.

Some part of you came back and suddenly you were very aware of the voices still talking and laughing inside.

She was right inside.

Finally, with that thought, you were pushing him away. “Felix no, your girlfriend is right inside that door.” You stepped back, far enough that a good three feet of space stayed between you-almost as much as you possibly could on the small porch.

He blanched, trying to step closer before you held out an arm, pushing his chest back. “It’s okay. S-she’s with the others-she won’t come out here-she won’t-”

“No.” The word was concrete but your eyes stayed trained on the ground as it was spoken, avoiding the puppy eyes you knew would be staring back at you if you were to look up.

And if you saw them you knew it would be over for you. You knew that. He knew that.

“Please, I need you so bad.” The words were agonizingly enticing but you’d been around him for long enough to build some level of immunity to his charms. 

“Please,” he took a step closer again, brushing away your arm as your eyes screwed shut. 

You couldn’t see him but you could feel his breath fanning across your face. “You can do anything you want to me. Push me around, punish me. Just fuck me.” He pressed himself against you, showing you just how hard he was for you.

“I’ve been so bad, so, so bad. Need you to just fuck me back into place.” 

Before your brain even comes to terms with his words, his hand was clasping around your wrist-the one with the cigarette in hand. Quickly bringing it up to his shoulder, pulling down his shirt to expose more skin. “Put it out on me.”

You’re sure your mouth is practically hanging open at the thought, lust pooling deep inside of you. “Do it-please!” He shakes your hand, desperation filling his eyes.

It would be easy. So easy to give into his whims. To let yourself fall into the trap of his desires...

"Miss you so much." His voice takes on a certain kind of desperation, lips trembling. "Need-need your touch so bad. Want you to bruise me, mark me, ruin me."

So, so fucking easy. To go along with it.

With a heavy groan you shove him away once more. He whimpers as you drop it onto the ground instead, snubbing it out under your foot. 

“Not right now.” The finality of the tone has him sulking and whining but you ignore him as you pull out your phone at the vibration of a notification.

You sigh at the contact name on the message. The real reason you wouldn’t give into his whims. 

Why you wouldn’t grab him by the throat right now, kiss him until his lips were raw and red, tease him until he came in his pants and make him walk straight back into there with his shame and your ownership stamped on him like a bright neon sign.

Because of her.

Avery: He’s with you rn, right?

You: Yeah

The dots pop up, signalling her typing before they disappear.

You: Why?

Avery: He just didn’t say he was going anywhere and I got worried

You: Worried?

Avery: Ofc! Why wouldn’t I be?

You: Avery.

Avery: Fine. 

Avery: I left with Hyunjin like 5 minutes ago, we’re heading over to his place for a bit

Avery: Can you just tell Lix I was idk, sick or smth-literally anything it doesn’t matter as long as he doesn’t come looking for me lol

You: Okay.

Avery: Yeah, maybe invite him to stay over at urs or smth, I won’t be back at our place til tmrw and u guys are friends so it won’t be weird.

And there it was. Both the reason you rarely ever felt bad and simultaneously felt incredibly guilty about what you had with Felix.

Because while he was out with you, she was out with someone else too, so in a way you guess it kinda nullified it? 

Made you sleep better knowing that you were fucking the brains out of a taken man?

You weren’t very sure to what extent either of them knew about the other’s rendezvous. You were sure he knew that she was cheating on him but doubted he knew it was his friend that it was with at the moment. And if she knew what was going on between you and him well she didn’t say anything and that was a pretty dead giveaway that she had no idea.

Because she was a hypocrite, not above starting a confrontation and spinning it around to make you and him seem like villains and her to be the helpless victim of the story.

Even as she was out with one of Felix’s best friends doing god knew what, knowing how much it would hurt him. But you guess that wasn’t so different than what he was doing to her.

“Hey, you wanna come over to my place? We can watch a movie or something.”

He perked up immediately at that, nodding quickly. “Yeah!” He knew what that was code for. He glanced down at his phone. “Should I go tell Avery I’m leaving?...Nah it’ll be fine, I’ll just text her later.”

“Okay cool, let’s go.”

The fire escape off the balcony landed right into an abandoned alley, perfect so you wouldn’t have awkwardly say goodbye to all of their friends.

You broke into a brisk walk the second you were on the ground, Felix having to almost run to catch up with you after he got off the ladder. “Hey! Wait up!” He shouted.

“Then hurry up, slowpoke!” You retorted over your shoulder, not slowing the pace. 

Your own apartment was pretty close, only maybe a 10 minute walk but it was still cold as shit and you’d given Avery your jacket earlier. You hadn’t really registered the chilliness on the balcony before, have it be the smoke or Felix you didn’t know.

“Hey!” He panted as he caught up.

You rolled your eyes, trying not to smile at the way he linked your arms together, swinging them happily.

He looked happy.

A smile across his face-his eyes still slightly clouded and the bulge in his pants still ever-so present but seeming to be fine ignoring it for now, even if whenever he took a step too long or too short he’d have to suppress a moan.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket again. Probably Avery. 

You ignored it.

Probably another update about her and Hyunjin, a reminder to keep Felix with you. Another reminder of how fucked up this whole situation this was.

“Do you ever feel bad?” You asked suddenly, the words blurted out before you could really think them over.

He let out a surprised noise. “For who-Avery?”

You nodded and he made a small noise of consideration, thinking it over before replying. “Not really, no. Really why should I? She was the one that cheated first.”

It was true, he could remember it all very clearly. They’d only been together for a few months at that point-basically nothing really but very quickly had either of them gotten attached. 

He vividly remembered walking in on her with some other random guy when he came home from working on a group project after school. 

He remembers standing there, frozen in place. Not wanting to watch but being unable to look away. 

Stuck in his body. Feet glued to the floor. Eyes frozen on them. Forced to watch her moan out the guy’s name, for him to smile and leave a kiss on her lips, groaning out about how she was such a pretty little slut for him.

The next thing he knew she was gasping, pushing the dude away, yelling out Felix’s name in alarm. The guy was pulling out of her, eyes wide in shock.

And maybe he didn’t know she was with someone-maybe he was innocent in all this mess. 

But she wasn’t.

And then his feet finally moved and Felix was running out of the room, trying not to cry as he threw himself into the guest room, locking the door and sliding down it, covering his face with his hands in an effort to hold back tears.

He could recall all of the sobbing and pain and apologizing that first time. 

She’d wailed all night long like she was the one that had been the one to walk in on their girlfriend fucking another guy. 

She refused to leave the house even when he yelled for her to pack her shit and leave. 

She stayed, sitting on the other side of the door, banging and crying for him to let her in. For him to let her explain herself, like that would somehow make anything better. 

She promised to not do it again. For two hours she kept that up until finally he cracked and let her in. 

She cradled him in her arms and wiped away his tears, cried with him for a bit and promised and swore and crossed her damn heart, assuring him that she’d never ever do it again. Held him tighter when he gritted his teeth and told her again, to leave. But she refused. She grovelled and pleaded and ‘justified’ her actions for a second chance.

He’d ended up forgiving her of course but, surprise, surprise, only a few weeks later it happened again. The whole process repeated with the guest room and the begging and the promises. 

And it happened again.

And again.

And the time after that. 

Over and over until it got to the point where he was used to it-expected it. No longer did he lock himself in the guest bedroom, all that would happen with that was she’d get bruises all over her hands from banging on the door and complain about it the next day as if it were a routine and nothing more.

And he wouldn’t say he was exactly happy with this arrangement but slowly with each new guy he became practically desensitized to it. 

When he came home from classes and saw her giving a guy a sloppy blowjob on the couch that had been Felix’s before they’d moved in together he simply sighed and rolled his eyes, ignoring the bitter twang in his chest and telling the dude to get out.

When he’d gone to a party with her and realized she’d disappeared only to find her practically dry-humping some random dude in the kitchen he’d just told her he was going home and to not wake him up when she came in.

It hurt, yes but through all of that he stayed with her. Why? He didn’t really know, maybe it was something to do with the fact that she was his first serious relationship and he liked the security of the title. Maybe because he was scared about how she would react, what she would do.

But for whatever reason he always stayed loyal throughout it all.

That was until you came along.

You, sitting in front of him in lecture hall. You who got decently good grades so the teacher’s paired you up with him, asking you to tutor him some days too if you were to have the availability, You who had a step-sister, through your dad’s marriage to her mom who just happened to be his girlfriend.

You.

You, you, you.

Who made him not want to be loyal anymore. Who made him laugh and smile and want to leave his cheating girlfriend once and for all.

And suddenly it was no longer the security of the title that kept him around, her anger or her small scraps of love only given when he begged for it. 

It was you. Who reminded him how it would affect not only them but all of their friends, who reminded him that she was your step-sister and the issues and drama that would come along with breaking it off with her.

But that didn’t stop him from wanting to.

He remembers the first time he came onto you, it was only about two months ago-56 days to be exact-but who was counting?

It was during a tutoring session, he’d been watching you. Observing the way you bit your lip when you concentrated, a slight furrow in your brow. Fixated on the way your tongue would dart out to quickly wet your lips before you spoke. 

Watched and watched until without really making the decision he was leaning in and kissing you and you were kissing him back and finally he understood how little Avery meant to him.

He could almost feel phantom hands on his body, remembering the way your’s had immediately gone to his hair, tugging at the silky strands until he moaned and then you realized what was going on.

You’d pushed him away all too soon, panicked and frazzled, yelling at him about why he’d ever do that. 

Did he know what this meant?

Had he really thought over what this might do?

Did he realize how Avery would feel? 

What this could do to you and to her and to-

And then he was kissing you again-desperate and needy, making you gasp out, grasping your hands by the wrists and placing them around his waist. 

And then your hands were back in his hair, all over his body, taking and giving and feeling and exploring. Then he was under you and any thought about how Avery would feel was the last thing on your mind.

The whole experience was different. Then anything he’d had and anything that you’d had, in a good way.

After that you didn’t want to stop seeing each other and she was starting to question why he was getting tutored so much. 

It started off as just sex and that wasn’t a morally good thing by any chance, but you could rationalize it. 

You told yourself that you could stop anytime you wanted, if you wanted to but you didn’t need to yet so there was no point. And it would be easy, because there were no feelings, not as bad of a betrayal. 

But it quickly turned into more than that. 

To laying in bed afterwards, him curling up in your arms, pressed up close against your chest, fiddling with his hair, and taking in the way he smelt. 

To enjoying each others company and nothing more during these moments-small bursts of time that started as one of you leaving right away, to staying for a few minutes, to staying for a few hours simply talking. About nothing. About everything. About your family and his friends, how your week was and how he wanted to be a professional dancer someday.

To suggesting good restaurants to him and to personally showing him to them. To days that one of you were in the mood and the other wasn’t, so you’d cool down and cuddle instead. To inviting him over for movie nights and making dinner together. To doing things without the idea of getting laid at the end of the night even in either of your heads.

And did he ever? Feel guilty about any of it?

“No.” Felix stated with a certainty in his tone. “If I could go back I’d do it all over again.” You unlocked the door and gestured for him to go in first. “But you never know...”

The keys were placed on the counter, “Never know what?” You questioned distractedly, shoes slipped off along with his. 

“I might feel differently if you keep teasing me,” He rested his head on your shoulder, whispering into your ear. “Maybe I shouldn’t have even come to you...Avery would’ve helped me back at the house you know-”

Before he could blink, his body was pushed back, stumbling until his knees hit the couch and he feel backwards. And then you were on top of him, knees of either side of his hips, lips inches away from his.

A dark look had crept into your eyes, flickering over the length of his body hungrily. He shivered almost violently, he couldn’t help it.

“Wanna repeat that for me, kitten?” Chills broke across his skin at patronizing tone you spoke in and he was once again reminded of how turned on he already was.

His mouth was dry and his body burned in anticipation but he wouldn’t reply-couldn’t.

A dangerous sneer replaced the smirk, malicious intent written all over it and fuck, it left him throbbing and holding back the whimpers climbing up his throat. “C’mon pretty little kitty, you said it so confidently before.” Your hand brushed over his thigh and he whined, a pathetic sound that rolled off his tongue like an angel’s call to your ears.

“Say it.” You demanded, tipping his chin up to look at you.

“Please,” He whispered.

A single brow of yours raised, unimpressed. “That’s not what I asked for.”

He shut his eyes, unable to look at you. “M-maybe if you won’t help me,” His voice wavered, turning to a mumble. “Ma-maybe...Avery w-will.”

Your smile was large but the action didn’t convey to your eyes. Mirthless and dark-in lust or anger he couldn’t tell but could only hope it was both.

That was the only way you’d fuck him the way he needed to be right now.

“Really?” You growled.

His breath hitched. He was very accustomed to this version of you. The version that came out when it was just the two of you. Here and now. When he was needy and you were willing. When he begged you to do anything you wanted to to him and you would grant him that wish.

It got you into this head space where you wanted to remind him who he belonged to-not Avery certainly. It made you want to break him down and build him back up again just to remind him that you could. To make him forget who she was and who he himself was and the only thing left falling from kiss-bitten lips would be your name and begs for more.

He knew Avery was an especially sensitive topic to bring into this moment. To taunt you with her name in the way he’d just done. In a way that undermined your hold and control over him in these moments.

After all, you were nothing if not possessive.

And he fucking loved it.

Because now you were going to show him. Show him how good you could make him feel. Show him how well you knew his body and make sure he knew that plenty could try but no one could make him feel the way you did.

The laugh that came next was cold as your lips travelled down the smooth expanse of his neck. Nipping over his jugular, sucking harshly at his pulse point. “Does she fuck you better than I do sweetpea?” He could do nothing but moan brokenly in reply, arms grasping helplessly around your shoulders.

“Can she make you feel as good as I do?” Your hands dragged over his body in the seconds, touching him so slowly, so tantalizing.

Was this heaven or hell?

“Does she make you scream like I can?” It took a perfectly timed stroke to the words and he felt like he was go crazy with want, losing grip on reality, liquid heat filling his body with need.

He couldn’t even begin to try to figure it out in this moment.

Felix shook his head, frantically trying to find his voice but to no avail. You let out a chuckle. “When was the last time she touched you?”

And this time it seemed like you wanted a legitimate answer, pushing your body up and off of his, hovering over him. Those few inches of space devastated him, leaving his body cold and tingling for your touch again.

Your eyes trained on him, expressive and pushing, prompting him to answer the question. 

“L-last week.” He finally croaked out.

At long last-which was only really a few seconds but felt like an eternity, you were back on top of him, bodies snug against each other. “Only last week?” You pouted. “Lixie, thought I was special, th-”

“-Y-you are!-”

“-Ah ta ta ta,” you clicked your tongue at him like he was a misbehaving dog. “No interrupting me sweet thing.” You scolded, pulling up his shorts to reveal unblemished skin of his thigh, kneading the flesh in your hand before continuing. “Thought I was the only one who got to see you like this.” 

Grip turning harsh, you pried his legs apart, setting between them. “But it seems like you’re just an easy slut, opening your legs for anyone.”

He whined, pulling you closer to him if that was even possible, hiding his pink stained face in your hair, trying his very best to control his body. To keep his hips from jumping up and thrusting up against you like his body was aching to.

“No-she doesn’t make me feel the way you do. She doesn’t-” the words cut off into a moan of pure unfiltered unholiness.

“Doesn’t what? Doesn’t stroke you the way I do?” You taunt, slipping his shorts down to find...huh, no underwear, couldn’t say you were surprised. “Commando princess? And you say you aren’t a whore.”

Dragging the heel of your hand up and down him, slow and sure. “Only a whore for you~” he whispers through pants, breathing becoming erratic and irregular as you pick up the pace, increasing in speed.

You can’t help but laugh at the quip. “Whatever you say princess.”

He mewls, watching your head dip out of his view as your tongue continues your mission along his throat. 

Tasting and teasing but careful to leave the skin unmarked-a certain amount of level-headedness able to still keep control over the horny thoughts beginning to run rampant.

Hand slipping behind his head you softly twine your fingers into the long hair you’d begged him not to cut and suddenly tugged, quick and harsh, giving you more space to work with.

You’re still level-headed.

But Lix has other ideas-rational thoughts replaced by wet dreams, hips chasing your hand for more and fingers threading through your hair. “Mark me-fuck! Bite me-please-bite me, bruise me!”

Something inside you thrums with heat and you gently scrape your teeth down his neck. “Dunno baby, can you really take that?” 

He nods quickly, unable to keep his body from squirming anymore. “And what about Avery? You want her to see you all pretty-covered in bruises from another woman?”

“Yes! Please do it, m’ yours-wanna be yours!”

You freeze but he doesn’t seem to notice, too lost in his haze of pleasure, fucking up into your hand.

He’d never said that before.

You’ve called him yours-your slut, your pretty little thing, your whatever felt right in the moment but never had he said it.

...And the level-headedness was gone.

Your teeth sunk into his skin, leaving him keening, arching, tightening his hold in your hair. “M-more, please, need more!”

Happily, you could oblige to him and his request, carrying on with more teeth, more sucking, more fervor and a primal desperate need-like you needed to prove something-to Avery? To him? To yourself? Who knew.

Certainly not the boy under you who had lost any semblance of composure-not that he’d had very much to begin with.

A strangled sound akin to a sob left him and his legs wrapped around your waist, his eyes slipped shut-wanton cries and hiccupy gasps filling the room. “Please.” Was all he could say, your hand moving faster, matching rhythm with his thrusts.

“Trust me princess. When I’m done with you, you won’t even remember your own name.” The hiss in his ear had his mouth falling open, no sound coming out.

Finally you pulled away just a bit, admiring your work. 

A piece of art that consisted of reddened patches of skin that would soon fade to purple. His cock, pulsing and throbbing his your hand, working up and down his length smoothly due to the copious amounts of arousal leaking from the tip. And lastly, the best part was his cute little fucked-out face.

Stroking his cheekbone lightly with your fingers, a slow smile crept across your face. His mouth hung open, eyes screwed shut, brows furrowed tightly. “And you sure as hell won’t remember Avery’s”

You were addicted to him, yes. 

Just as much as that little deathstick you couldn’t seem to stop smoking. 

But truly, in the end, could something that felt so good be so bad?

[silent-raven13]

Hey Miles! What's your type?

Miles looks at his friends, "Hmm?"

"What's your type?" Gwen asked, "Like what do you see yourself with?"

Pavtri nodded, "Yeah, what kind of boy or girl you like?" Hobie stood listening them, his whole body turning into a curious colors; like soft green, bright yellow and gray with magazine and newspaper prints all over with symbols of curiosity fonts, and imagery.

"Hmm, I always did like girls like Gwen; smart, funny, serious, and vulnerable like good way. Like shows her sensitive side, I guess..." Miles explains about the girls he dated being similar to his old crush, Gwen. This got Gwen blushing so hard her face turns tomato red.

"Awe, love you too, man!" She plays off her blushing as she pats harshly on her friend's back. The two did like each other at one point, but it was at the wrong time. She needed to heal herself before getting involved in a serious relationship. Miles needs to deal with his own traumas and wanted the Spider people he was close to, to gain back his trust. So, they never went for it and slowly became close friends instead of lovers. It's safer like that.

"Ow!" Miles rubs his arms feeling pain on his back being nervous.

"What about guys! You said your into guys too!" Pavtri got close to his friend's face while holding his hand, even Hobie got close to listen.

"Well... umm... never really thought about it. I guess, the same thing as Gwen- um..." His honey-brown eyes started to drift away from eye contact being flustered. "I kinda like tall guys! Like really tall."

Gwen saw Hobie being pink, then stood next to Miles with his hand measuring Miles' height against his own. Hobie is a freakin' tall dude, being six foot and four inches while Miles only six foot. This made the teenager girl giggle.

"What else?" Pavtri asked.

Miles wasn't paying attention to Hobie and Gwen assuming they were being goofy with each other. "Umm... I always saw myself being with a guy that's edgy, likes music..." Hobie did a happy pose, showing off his outfit being punk and his guitar being, "romantic." The punker pulled out a rose being the romantic type.

"Funny, smart, not afraid to be sensitive, sweet with kids!" Hobie putting on a goofy glasses with mustache, then a book by Albert Einstein and pulls out Mayday from the blue while holding her. Mayday giggles at the punker being surprised he grab her out of home from a portal!

"Kids? You want kids!"

"No, I mean... i dunno a guy that's nice with kids is a green flag for me." Miles rubs his chin unaware of Peter 616 coming out of the portal to take back his daughter from the punker and wag his finger. Mayday merely laughs agains before waving the punker goodbye. The two went back to their world. "Oh, I always saw myself being with a black man, someone Jamaican or Caribbean but I wouldn't mind an Afro Latino or African or just black." He rub his neck.

Hobie happily stood showing off his tattoo of a Jamaican and Haitian pride alongside his West African flag to represent his descendants. Gwen snickers seeing how clueless Miles is being with his type. "What else? No Indian or brown love, Miles." Pavtri pouts.

"Oh, I don't mind that! I'm down for anyone." Miles shyly said, "I do like guys like you, Pav. Like sweet, funny and always putting a positive attitude!"

"Ohh, Miles! You make me wanna date you!" Pavtri hugs him having to nuzzle his cheek, "Hehehe, if I wasn't dating my Gayatri, you'll be my bae!"

That made Hobie jealous, turning grey with newspaper labels with prints, "Do not touch! Warning!"

"Hahaha, awe Pav, you're too nice." Miles giggles, then he said, "Oh, I like guys that are kinda bad boys... like they break the rules."

Hobie turns pink again, that is him. "Oh, and he cares about social views like Black Lives Matter, Women's Rights, LGBTQ plus umm... you know people's rights, heh. I guess, that kind of guy is unrealistic, huh?"

The punker looks surprised and exaggerated his pose into a big WHAT, with hands in the air and squatting. Gwen burst out laughing seeing how this is the perfect description of Hobie Brown.

"Awe, really?" Pavtri's brown eyes glance over at Hobie looking confused and lost. "I mean, I feel like someone already exists."

"I dunno... the guys I meet always be bums, then again I haven't dated much." Miles explains, "Oh, maybe this being a stretched but a guy with a nice accent is hot, y'know."

Hobie threw his hands in the air, Miles' man is right here. Pavtri giggles, "Miles..."

"You describe Hobie?" Gwen hums.

Miles looking flustered at his crush but the sixteen year old look so lost, "I did! Oh..." He glances over at the punker, "It's because you're so amazing! Anyone would be so happy to be with you, man!"

Hobie had hearts with his grey pop into a blooms of pinks being so happy, he picks up his friend with a nuzzle, "Awe, I love you, too, Sunflower!"

"Huh! Where did that come from?" Miles felt his face so warm, he cover his face being embarrassed by all this.

Gwen said to Pavtri seeing Hobie happily carrying around Miles like a couple. "You know... they are taking their sweet ass time to date!"

"You know, Miles... our sweet Miles is too shy and naive!" Pavtri giggles.

[loopstagirl]

Slippery Slope, Chapter 5

"It's… mountainous," Virgil said. He stared at the expanse of rock and snow looming above – far, far above – him. Gordon snorted.

"You're a genius," Gordon said, his tone deadpan. "The mountain is mountainous. John? John, you're no longer the clever one of the family."

Virgil elbowed his brother hard, not risking words. Their father was off to one side, deep in discussion with Brains. Even though he was helping their friend put his jetpack on, he had the 'dad' ability of hearing a son swear, however far away he was.

Brains didn't look bothered by the slope in front of them. Virgil wasn't so sure.

"I was hoping for something a little more, I dunno… green slope instead of black?"

He would've balked at coming down this one. Somehow, going up it seemed more daunting.

"You've got this." Scott clapped him on the shoulder, tone as reassuring as ever. "Stay in a straight line and try not to fall over. The pack will do the rest."

"Then you take it," Virgil said. "Even you can handle a straight line."

"Pretty sure there's evidence to the contrary," John muttered, only just loud enough for Virgil to hear. He chuckled, feeling a little of his apprehension ease as he recalled Scott's attempts to prove just that point.

Scott either didn't hear or chose to ignore John. "It's just like all our other tests. You'll be fine."

That wasn't the reassurance his brother no doubt intended. Virgil stared at him.

"How many times has that gone wrong?" His voice rose an octave, but for once, he didn't care.

Scott rolled his eyes. His hand remained on Virgil's shoulder. Virgil liked to think it was his brother simply giving some comfort. But he had a feeling Scott knew he was close to bolting. This no longer felt like a good idea. He looked around for John, intending to ask if he wanted the pack, but Gordon spoke first.

"We'll go to the nursery slopes," he said. The mocking concern in his voice made Virgil narrow his eyes. "Get a couple of knee-high squirts to test it instead."

Virgil bit his tongue. His reactions were leaving him wide open for teasing brothers but for Gordon, it was more than that. He was frustrated he couldn't even be in the running for testing.

"Can we just get this done?" Alan grumbled. "I'm freezing."

He had his arms folded, shifting on the spot. He, too, was put out he couldn't do the testing, and was sulking about it.

"John?"

Something was different in Scott's tone this time. Virgil was starting to hear it more and more. It wasn't a big brother corralling younger siblings: it was a commander expecting to be obeyed.

John looked up from where he was kneeling in the snow. He closed the back of the pack, fastening it with a screwdriver that had come from who knew where, and held it out to Virgil.

"All yours," he said.

"It's safe, right?"

He meant what he'd said to Scott. Many of their tests had gone wrong. Sometimes just the equipment malfunctioning. But there had also been bruises, scrapes, the odd burn and even unconsciousness. Virgil didn't relish the prospect of being knocked out while halfway up this slope. It would be a long way down again.

John nodded towards their dad and Brains.

"He seems okay."

Brains had the pack on. He was moving – up the mountain. He may have been going slow, but he was steadily drawing away from the Tracys. They all watched for a moment, and when everything seemed to be going okay, their dad joined them.

"Ready?" he said with a warm smile. Virgil just nodded.

Scott took the pack, helping Virgil slide it on his back and double-checking the straps.

"Keep your thumb on the switch at all times or you'll stall," he said, sliding the remote into Virgil's gloved hand.

"You know the drill: full report when you reach the top," his dad ordered.

Virgil nodded again. They were getting used to the type of information Brains deemed necessary to make any adjustments or enhance performance.

Clipping his boots into his skis, Virgil shuffled into position. If he cut across at an angle, he could follow Brains' path. If the pack did what it was supposed to, it'd be a clear run to the top.

He jammed his thumb on the trigger, and moved forward.

An inch.

…then another…

…and another, finally reaching the start of the incline.

It was hard keeping his balance at this speed. Virgil pushed harder on the switch but nothing changed.

"What an anticlimax," Alan grumbled. Virgil intended to glare at him, but quickly realised looking over his shoulder was an easy way to lose his balance.

John caught up with him in two long strides. "This isn't right," he said, "let go a sec?"

Virgil released the switch. The motor died, and he promptly slid back the few inches he'd gone.

Scott and John moved as one. Scott braced the skis, stopping Virgil from sliding back further, while John put a hand on his back.

"Gords?" John held a hand out without looking. Gordon passed him the screwdriver.

"Slow is fine," Virgil said quickly.

John only laughed, opening the jetpack again.

"Gravity will win with the speed you were going." He was silent for a moment, then, "aha."

"Should I be worried?" Virgil looked anxiously over his shoulder, wondering if he was about to see smoke.

"Lose connection."

Scott's hand replaced John's, supporting him, as John fixed the circuitry.

"Two inches and he's burnt it out," Alan said.

"Enough," their dad snapped. He got worried every time they tested something new. "Can you fix it?"

Virgil nodded, making to slide out of the straps, then realised his dad wasn't talking to him. He might be the engineer of the family, but John knew how to tweak some wiring.

Scott chuckled but John remained quiet. Virgil could feel him fiddling with the wires. It only took a few moments before John was closing everything back up - again.

"Should be good to go," he said.

Virgil trusted him. Honestly, he did. But it was a relief when Scott didn't stop bracing him.

Virgil glanced at his father, who gave him a reassuring nod. Virgil took a deep breath, and jabbed his thumb back on the switch before he could change his mind.

It was one of the weirdest sensations he'd ever felt. A constant force pressed against him, making him move in a direction that felt it defeated all odds. Finding his balance, Virgil let his skis run smoothly – up the mountain. He didn't dare look around, afraid of losing his balance.

It was easy to keep his balance. While he wasn't moving fast, his pace was steady, and Virgil grinned. No doubt Alan and Scott would complain about the speed, but he was just glad it seemed to work. Given the conditions needed for this, he would be the only Tracy who got to test it on real snow, and he was determined to give a report that would make his brothers jealous.

After a while, Virgil started shifting his weight, moving in wide arcs across the slope. A rescue was never going to be in a straight line. It felt easier than skiing normally, not having to worry about his speed, and he let out a delighted laugh.

One turn went a little too wide and Virgil felt his balance slip. Instinctively, he changed his grip on the poles, letting go of the switch as he did.

The motor immediately cut. Virgil had one panicked thought of Gravity! Before his fumbling hand found the switch again. The force driving him upwards now felt comforting against his back as it kicked in.

No one at the base of the mountain would've seen what happened. But Virgil intended to ask Brains to make some adjustments. More than likely he'd need both hands free for a rescue.

He went back to his turns though, knowing it was the easiest way to find any other alterations. He still had some way to go before he reached the top and Virgil forced himself to relax. He intended to enjoy every moment.

-x-

"He's doing okay," Scott said.

With a grin, he held out a hand without looking. Alan huffed but slipped a bill into it. As soon as Virgil had left to talk to Brains after breakfast, the bets had started. Scott knew there was no way Virgil would stick to the plan of a straight run to the top without any deviation.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his dad look skyward. But then Scott burst out laughing when the man gestured at Gordon, who handed over his own money with a scowl. Scott turned his attention back to Virgil.

"Brains thought it would take them an hour to reach the top. It's gonna take him two if he keeps going in the wrong direction."

"It's still up," John shrugged. He reached for his own skis. "That's what counts, right?"

Jeff nodded. His arms were folded, narrowed eyes fixed on Virgil. Scott had a feeling he wasn't going to move, or even look away.

"I'm going to get a few runs in," John continued. "Anyone coming?"

Gordon picked up Virgil's snowboard and the two started off.

"Wait for me!" Alan called. "I'm coming with you: meeting TinTin for a coffee."

Scott watched them go, not moving. He heard his father's low chuckle.

"You can't just stand here watching," the man said. Scott blushed but shook his head.

"Not planning on. I'm going to meet him up top. Just didn't fancy going with those three."

It didn't matter that Alan couldn't ski either. He'd join in with the other two ribbing him about it, and Scott wasn't in the mood while Virgil was testing their future equipment.

He took a few steps, then glanced back.

"Aren't you coming?"

His dad shook his head, gaze still locked on Virgil.

Laughing, Scott moved off. His father's rebuke didn't stop the man from doing exactly what he'd told his son not to. No doubt he'd watch Virgil for as long as he could from here, then hurry up the slope to continue watching from the top. Scott at least wanted to get a hot drink rather than watch while freezing.

He ducked under the makeshift barrier that separated their part of the mountain. Scott's smirk didn't fade. No matter how much he denied it, his father had bought a mountain!

Two men were standing only a few paces away. Scott hesitated. One appeared to be fixing a loose ski, but there was something about their posture…

Scott took his time putting the barrier back into position. They were still fiddling even when he was done. Scott had spent enough time the day before trying to sort out his own skis and even he knew it didn't take that long.

"Okay, fellas?" His voice was casual, friendly even, and he kept his own posture relaxed. That didn't mean he wasn't surreptitiously checking if anyone else was around.

"Admiring the view," one called back. "While my buddy here figures out which way the ski goes. Pretty spectacular, right?" He gestured at the slope behind Scott.

Scott didn't turn. "Sure is. Off limits though."

He didn't like how close they were. If he sounded like a spoilt rich boy, then so be it: he wasn't letting them past the barrier. At least his father was still there for back-up if needed.

"We heard," the second man muttered, just loud enough for Scott to hear. His tone was dark and his gaze drifted over Scott's shoulder.

"Going to need you to clear this area," Scott said. Technically, this area didn't belong to his family, but there weren't any other runs accessible. There was nothing for these men here.

"Got it!" The second man spoke again. This time, his tone was overly bright. Just like that, his ski slotted into place.

He turned, heading back towards the slopes. "See you around."

He started pushing through the snow, his friend following with a nod.

Scott watched them go, biting his lip. Should he tell the rest of the family? He kept his gaze trained on the men, but they didn't do anything other than join the queue for the lifts. Scott shook his head. A few months on an island with a barrage of secrets, and suddenly he was paranoid.

He trudged through the snow, heading for the lift himself. Glancing over his shoulder, he admitted the man was right: the view was spectacular. Their slope was almost pristine with snow and would be a beautiful photo opportunity, despite the 'No Admittance' sign the Tracys had put up.

Trying to forget them, Scott took the lift back to the bar he'd visited before. This time, it was full of families grabbing hot drinks and snacks, although the atmosphere was just as vibrant.

A girl waved at him and it took Scott a moment to recognise her from a few nights ago. He smiled but headed for the bar, more interested in a coffee than a pick up this time.

"You."

It wasn't the greeting Scott was used to and he started, before grinning ruefully at the barmaid.

"Me," he said. She shook her head, pretending to back off.

"Oh no. I've seen what those dimples can do. Keep them to yourself, you hear?"

Scott laughed and held his hands up in surrender. "Just a coffee, please."

"Cream?"

"Please."

"Name?"

"Why'd you need my name?" In a way, it was nice she hadn't recognised him yet.

"I'm not introducing myself to a stranger. Name?"

"Scott," he said, deciding to leave off surnames.

"Cara."

She slid him his coffee; he passed the money back. But he stayed sitting where he was. Virgil wouldn't appreciate having both his brother and father staring at him. At least, that's what he told himself. In all reality, he enjoyed chatting to Cara as she easily kept on top of the morning rush. He figured his future career may be easier than juggling six coffee orders from patrons too impatient to wait their turn.

Once he'd finished his drink, he decided it was time to move. He wanted to hear how Virgil and Brains had fared. While he wasn't certain about this invention – anyone waiting to be rescued by him on skis was going to have a very long wait – he enjoyed watching Brains' work.

He stood to leave, and raised voices brought his thoughts back to reality.

"Seats are for customers only. Either place an order, or leave." Cara's voice was firm but exasperated, and Scott knew this wasn't the first time she'd addressed the two men sitting at a window table.

Scott couldn't help himself and he looked over. One of the men was staring out of the window and Scott jolted when he noticed he had a pair of binoculars. Not what one usually saw on a skiing vacation.

The other man replied to Cara in a voice too low for Scott to hear.

"Out." Cara's response was clipped and angry. "Before I call security."

Scott stepped away from his stool. Some kid Alan's age stole it before he'd taken a second step, but he was leaving anyway. This wasn't the type of place to have security and he didn't like the posture of those men – or the binoculars.

"Problem?" His tone was light. Cara glanced at him, but looked relieved rather than exasperated by his interference.

"Won't leave, won't order, won't take a hint," she said.

"You heard her." Scott's voice deepened, a hint of a command slipping in. "Time to go."

Both men looked around properly. Scott blinked, trying to hide his reaction. His mouth had suddenly gone dry. He didn't like this.

"Keep showing up where you're not wanted, don't you, fellas?" He said. It was the same men as before.

"And you keep trying to move us on. You own the mountain or something?"

"Wellll," Scott drawled with a small smirk. "Technically-,"

"We're going." The man with the binoculars had let them rest against his chest, and tugged on his friend's arm. For a second, Scott thought his friend was going to throw him off, but then the pair of them stood and barged their way through, almost knocking a young boy flat as they left.

"Thanks." Cara flashed him a smile. "Maybe you've got other skills than just dimples, after all."

She hurried away before Scott could respond. The queue at the bar waiting for drinks wasn't getting any shorter.

Scott leant forward, trying to see what the man could've been watching so intently. There view overlooked many of the slopes, but it wasn't that which made a cold trickle run down Scott's spine.

A familiar looking private slope was almost straight ahead. Scott couldn't see much from this distance, but with enhanced vision…

He hurried out of the door. As he pulled his hat on, he wondered where the two men had gone. Maybe he really was being paranoid?

Or maybe not. No sooner had he cleared the door when there came an angry shout. Two skimobiles shot from the small shack a few feet away. They didn't follow the marked-out route but instead cut directly across the path, causing people to lurch out of their way.

Scott was already moving before his brain finished registering they were heading towards the Tracy's slope: heading towards Virgil.

Scott ran, slipped, and grabbed onto a convenient handrail as he tried to keep his footing. Regaining his balance, he hurried towards the 'For Hire' shack, hoping there was another skimobile available. He scrabbled in his pocket for his phone as he ran, but he'd left it back at the lodge.

Scott slowed. Despite himself, a grin spread across his face. He'd left it because he had another way of contacting his family. One they hadn't quite got used to yet, even if they were all wearing their new communicators.

He ducked behind the closest shelter, barely noticing it was the restrooms. Pulling off a glove, he then rolled back his cuff and pressed a button on his watch. With that one touch, he signalled the rest of the family.

"Guys? I think we have a situation."

He didn't know what was going on. Had no idea where the others were. Or even if Virgil was indeed in trouble.

But as he mobilised his team for the first time, the thrill that ran through him was greater than anything he'd felt before, even in the Air Force.

He made it to the hut and hired the fastest skimobile left, having no idea what he said to the guy behind the counter. As soon as he was out, Scott kicked it to life and, with a roar of an engine, he shot after the men posing a threat to his family.

Virgil might enjoy skiing.

But this? This was more to his style.

Read it all on FF.net

[f1amboyant]

Hello, im not sure if this is the story the u meant but imma put the linkk.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/46344100

About the carcar tho, if its the same universe or not, im hoping for a happy ending for carcar. And shy carlos urif

Even if they do not like end up together, maybe it would result into a next step into their relationship. I dunno about the charlos issue, but im team carcar for now 🤭. And i dunno if they will be able to like overcome their ‘issues’ since they are both stubborn like bricks. And repressed feelings of course.

But i always see it that the attraction goes on both ways esp during these past races hence why carlos called oscar? Oscar seems like the type who is honest and I think that is what Carlos needs?

Srry im not able to properly link the fic because its anonymous, still kinda shy 😵‍💫. And SORRY for rambling hdid thank u

Hello anon! ✨

Don't apologize for rambling, I love it! Keep the asks coming 🥰

Yes! Thank you for the link, it's this charlos fic exactly!

As for this girl!carlos carcar, it's not in the same universe but you can imagine it is, if you want, anon! 🥰

Yes, it will be a happy ending for carcar! They are stubborn, that's true. But after Carlos being vulnerable with Oscar, and Oscar getting a taste of that sweet sweet 🍑, things are gonna get moving. I think, after they hook up and Oscar helps Carlos turn back into a man, Oscar is down down bad. So he avoids Carlos, until Carlos confronts him and he finally admits that wants him, right now, as a man too. And they kiss and they are happy, in their very very stubborn way.

And yes, you are so right anon, Oscar is very honest and that's exactly what Carlos needs. That's why he called him. And that's why he's attracted to him, even if he didn't admit it to himself yet.

Anyway, a little bit more? 🤭

Truly, Oscar should have left a long time ago. Truly, he never should have come at all. Because now. Now this was an opportunity he couldn't pass. Now, he was tempted to say…

"Yes."

Carlos did not smile or wink or anything. He nodded stiffly and stared at Oscar without another word, brown eyes blown so wide they practically took his whole face. Oscar shuffled awkwardly on his feet. He would have loved to look at anything but Carlos. Except his eyes didn't obey his mind anymore, wandering all other Carlos’ body. Carlos’ woman body. He noted new details he hadn't pay attention to before. Like how Carlos still had a lot of hair on his forearms and bare legs, black and almost shiny. It suited him.

He looked pretty.

And delicious.

And he was asking Oscar to…

“Just to be clear,” Oscar said when too much time had past for his comfort (and his pants were growing too tight just at the thought of what was about to happen).

He shuffled again, trying to adjust his crotch subtly but Carlos’ eyes zeroed in between his legs immediately. Well. So much for subtlety.

Oscar cleared his throat.

“Just to be clear,” he tried again, “you're asking me to have sex with you? To put my… hmm you know, inside your… inside you? To make you come and turn you back into a man? Is that it?”

“This guy,” Carlos huffed. "Do you have to spell everything out like that?"

This time, Oscar rolled his eyes.

"Sorry for taking your full consent into consideration," he deadpanned in a tone that indicated very obviously he wasn't sorry at all. He almost regretted saying yes. Almost.

(He didn't regret it at all.)

"How do you wanna do this?" he asked, and cringed at his own words.

This was awkward and so weird and just… Why had Carlos asked for his help again?

"Don't make this weird," Carlos grumbled. "Just. Do like you do with girls," he said, shrugging.

There weren't many girls in Oscar's bed, but he wasn't about to say that.

"I thought you weren't a girl."

"Ah! Shut up, cabrón!"

Carlos put a foot on the mattress, curling an arm around his bent leg. The move revealed way too much from under his shorts. Oscar didn't look. He was a good boy, of course he didn't look. But still. He was pretty sure Carlos wasn't wearing any panties or boxers. Just nothing.

Not that Oscar had seen anything of course.

[habizuh-studios]

How You Make Me Sway

Summary: I was bored out of my mind, and there was nothing to do in the church. Unless you count for the radio in the corner. I turned it on, not expecting a slow song to play. Of course, when Johnny extended a hand out towards me, I didn’t think he’d say, “Wanna dance, Pony?”

OR: In which the boys are bored at the church and Ponyboy decides to dance with Johnny. :) AO3 LINK (there's a part 2 bc of the 4096 limit for my tumblr folks, check notes or my blog)

I was bored out of my mind. Maybe running away wasn’t the best idea after all. Johnny and I had run to the church about two days ago. Johnny had gone for supplies, and all was well, but neither of us were in the mood to read Gone with the Wind and there was really nothing that we wanted to do. Unless you account for the radio in the corner. There was really nothing else to do- everything was so still, and though I usually just zone out and let my imagination take me anywhere, I wanted to spend some more time with Johnny. I think he was bored out of his mind too. The black-haired boy was dangling with only his legs holding him up from one of the dusty pews, arms on the floor. I eyed the radio in the corner, suddenly getting up. Johnny looked at me questioningly, and I blushed a little, flustered. I think I stuttered out something about wanting to turn on the radio, and Johnny got up from his awkward position and followed me there. “What song are you gonna play?” He asked, curious. An idea had been in my mind for the past few minutes, and I wanted to test it out. Answering Johnny’s question, albeit flusteredly, I mumbled, “I dunno.” I’m pretty sure I said it quickly, so I have no idea how Johnny heard it. “That’s fine, just turn it on and we’ll see what song plays,” Johnny said. He was cool like that. I grinned up at him crookedly like Two-Bit, “Once I figure out how to turn on this radio.” It was a different brand than the one we had at our house- it was probably newer, with a bunch of fancy knobs and switches. It wasn’t too hard to turn on, though, and eventually, it landed on a slow song. The kind of song that I’ve seen people dance to in movies, all elegant and fancy. You see, I know how to dance- before my parents died, they would dance together in the living room, laughing and smiling at each other. I vividly remember Sodapop bursting into the room and wanting to be a part of the action back then. My mom laughed, smiled at my dad, and took his hand, teaching him. At the time, they were dancing to a slow song- the type of songs where one of the people has to put one hand on the waist and where they spin together slowly. My parents were good dancers, and I think Sodapop was, too. Eventually, Darry and I went to the living room. We used to be a lot more competitive, so when we saw Sodapop dancing with Mom, Darry and I had said we wanted to learn, too. And so we had. I’ll probably never admit it to anyone else, but I really liked it. Maybe I enjoyed the song, or the steps, or maybe it was nostalgic because that was a really nice memory with my parents. Sometimes, when I’m zoned out, I’m imagining that scene or something similar to it. So when Johnny extended a hand out towards me, I didn’t think he’d say, “Wanna dance, Pony?” I don’t know why I stared at his hand like it gave me the world, but I took it anyway, and replied, “Do you know how?” “Not really,” Johnny awkwardly smiled. “But I think you’ve mentioned knowing how once or twice.” Gosh, I had? How many things have I mentioned to Johnny and forgot about? “Well, you’re right about that.” None of us said a word, but I guided Johnny’s hand to my waist and put my arm on top of his. My other hand grasped his other hand, and I held it out a little away from our faces- I’m pretty sure you have to do it farther, but I really didn’t feel like it. After a few seconds of awkward silence, Johnny broke in, slightly grinning, “This comfortable, Pony?” I nodded my head, smiling back. I then realized I would have to explain the footwork, and waited for a beat in the song, before explaining- I basically forgot how to do it, but I can remember the people in the movies doing something similar, so I based any gaps in my memory with their movements. “You basically just step out and together in any direction, and I’ll follow,” I said. “You have to do it constantly- unless you wanna stop or something, then we can.”

[angelsleepinggurl]

𝐒𝟐:𝐄𝐏𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐃𝐄 𝟔

═════ ◈ ═════

“So then he called?” In the expanse of the dark low-lit bar, are the two of you, sitting on high-top stools near the bartending area. Naaila’s black, wispy bangs fall down the side of her face as she asks you, stirring her dirty martini.

“Pretty much.” you shrug, dragging your finger around the rim of your own glass. “I don’t know. He just said he was sorry and wanted mend things.”

“Ugh I’m so angry, what could he even want?” Her words come out like a hiss, she’s always had a problem with him. Sounds of half-empty glasses clinking and shuffling against waxy wooden tables, the booze fizzing up as it rises and falls to meet the rim of the jug, add to its ambience.

“Sorry my ass,” she snaps. “Y/N he wants something.”

“No, he doesn’t. And besides, if he does, it’s not like he could get anything from me anyways,” you explain, playing with your empty glass. You don’t even have to look at Naaila to know the daggers she’s glaring at you. “I SAID IF I WANTED TO!” she turns to look away. “which I don’t.”

A momentary silence envelops the both of you as you both ponder.

“I dunno. He's bad news. Every time he comes around he ruins your life and you’re left picking up the pieces again, and right when you’re done he’s back. He’s like … a bad omen.” she says, her voice softer but firm.

You pout at her comparison, “Now that's just not nice.”

“I don’t care Y/N, he is.” she says flatly. “Don’t tolerate what he has to say to you. Just stay far away, and focus on your man.” she ends her sentence with a smug grin, raising her eyebrows suggestively at you.

Her childish antics make you flustered, “Shut up. And he’s not my man.” you say, covering your smiling mouth with your hands. The air become much more lively, and it makes you static, the taste of giddiness on your tongue.

“Uh what do you mean he isn’t? He totally is.”

“He really isn’t.” you respond truthfully, “we aren’t together.”

She proceeds after a careful pause,a smirk tugging at her lips. “Okay Mr and Mrs can’t stay away from each other, what are you?”

What are we? What are we? What really are we? You’ve thought of this multiple times, but you don’t know what to make of it. How do you put a label on a broody boss and his assistant who bang after hours?

“I don’t know.” your voice is timid, matching your mannerisms as you close in on yourself, the subject seems to be more personal to you than you knew. “I don’t know.”

“Hmmmm, Red flag.” she says firmly.

“Wha-”

“Red. Flag. Y/N. I love you, but you know better than being with a man who won’t put a label on things.” she says, placing her hand on the table near yours.

Your back stiffens, her words pricking at your insecurities. "It’s complicated," you defend, crossing your arms. "He’s my boss, Naaila. And we aren’t dating. We just... fuck."

She raises an eyebrow, “Is that what you want?”

“I mean it’s great, Really-”

“Is that what you want?” she repeats and you finally look up at her, catching the worrisome glint in her wide eyes. Her question lands like a punch.

Your gaze drops to the table. You feel exposed, more than you care to admit.

“… Well I’d like to get to know him more. You know instead of just his dick.”

“So tell him that.” she responds sympathetically.

“Nuh-uh. I can’t force a relationship on my boss. That makes me look expecting or.. or needy. And he’s my higher up, what if- what if he doesn’t like me like that and he fires me.” you explain.

“He won’t fire you.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I know. Trust me. And so what if asking makes it icy between you two. You wouldn't want to waste your energy on a guy who’s only interested in fucking you,” you open your mouth to speak up, but Naaila beats you to it “no matter how hot he is.”

The silence that follows is different this time. Heavier. You’re sorting through your feelings, trying to align them with the reality Naaila’s presenting.

“He just doesn't seem like the type of guy to be interested in only hookups, Y’know?” you say quietly, your voice almost pleading.

“No I don’t. His actions are saying otherwise.”Her words sink in, and for the first time, you start to question if you’ve been deluding yourself this whole time.

A new presence enters your peripheral, the air thickening with his arrival. Without turning, you can feel the weight of his stare, and when you both finally glance up, he’s standing behind you with a grin plastered across his face. "What are you two fine ladies doing alone at this club?" His voice is slick, oozing smugness that immediately sets your nerves on edge.

“Having the time of our lives. ” Naaila responds, her voice heavy with sarcasm, having seen this scene one time too many. Her eyes narrow, and you can almost see the wall she’s put up.

“Could I buy you a drink?” The man’s attention shifts to you, his two-toned eyes—grey and blue—locking onto yours. The mix of colours is strangely captivating, but before you can answer, Naaila’s voice cuts through your daze.

“Already ordered one,” Naaila interjects, her face stern and unimpressed.

Her tone and mannerisms don’t go unnoticed by him,“Well if your friend doesn’t want another one,” he says smoothly, “I'm sure you might.” he returns to a smile so warm that if he wasn’t some creep hitting on you in a bar and you didn’t have another man in your life, you would’ve agreed to it.

“Oh, I-” you start, pushing past a stray hair, behind your ear, prepared to let him down softly.

But Naaila’s patience runs out before yours does. "Why? So you can get her drunk and put your filthy hands on her?" Her voice is sharp, the words cutting like glass, and for the first time, the man's smile wavers.

“Hey lady, zip it, I'm not talking to you, I'm talking to your friend here.” he turns to you again, his blue hair flowing behind him and resting on his back. “So what do you say?

“Well I-” you begin, trying to find the words, but Naaila’s not having it.

“She says you and your musty ass should leave her alone.” Naaila dires back for you.

The man’s grin turns sour. "Well, you’re a delight, aren’t you?" he sneers, eyes narrowing as he sizes her up. "Putting words in your friend’s mouth. How do you know she doesn’t want to talk to me?"

For a brief second, his words hang in the air, and something in them tugs at you.

“Because no one in their right mind would wanna talk to you. I mean look at you.” Naaila jokes, prodding insults at the man.

"Enough." Your voice is firm, surprising even yourself. Both Naaila and the stranger turn to you, momentarily silenced. "Thank you, Naaila, but I can handle this." You pause, directing your attention to the man. "That’s a very kind offer, sir, but my friend and I were just about to head home."

He lifts an eyebrow, clearly not expecting the graceful rejection. "Well, why don’t I drop you off then?" His words are casual, but his smirk tells a different story. "Not her, though—she can walk."

That’s the last straw. "I don’t appreciate you talking to my friend like that," you say, your voice hardening. "And, we’ve already got it sorted. So, if you don’t mind, it was nice meeting you." The thin veneer of politeness slips from your words as you stand, pushing past him without waiting for his response.

The bar feels suffocating, and as the cool night air hits your face outside, you breathe in deeply. Naaila soon follows after childishly sticking her tongue out at the man, chuckling once outside.

You remain silent.

Naaila takes your silence to be a moment of pause to absorb all the prior events. “Get a load of that guy. What a creep, right? ‘Can I get you girls anything’” She's left laughing alone, she’s left to silence. Naaila’s laughter died down, replaced by an awkward silence. "Looks like a total dork, right?" she added, her voice now tinged with uncertainty, trying to draw you back into the moment. “Y/N?”

“How old am I?” you ask, proceeding to look ahead. Your voice calm but tinged with a frustration that you were trying to keep under control. You don’t turn to face her.

Naaila blinks, taken aback.“What?”

“How old am I?” you repeat sternly.

She hesitates, confused by the sudden question, but eventually lets out a small laugh. "Twenty-four," she says, her lips curving up slightly, not sure where this is going.

“Exactly.” you turn, “I’m a grown woman. I can stand up for myself. I don't need you to put words in my mouth for me.”

“Woah what?” she chuckles not knowing where this outburst is coming from.

"It was sweet at first, Naaila," you say, the calm in your voice starting to crack. "But then you started acting like I was mute or... shy, or like I was some little kid who couldn’t handle herself."

Her expression falters. "Y/N, I was just trying to help. I know how much you don’t like confrontation."

“Well you clearly don’t know me enough.” you snap, “I’ve outgrown the teenage girl I used to be. I’m not afraid anymore.”

“I was just trying to be considerate.” Naaila says, her voice cooling as if trying to keep things from escalating further.

“Well thank you but I don't need it anymore?”

That hits a nerve. Naaila’s expression hardens. "And if I hadn’t been there?" she shoots back, her tone sharpening with heat. "If he tried to put his hands on you? If he spiked your drink? Kidnapped you? Anything—what would you have done then?"

"I would’ve figured it out!" you fire back. "I don’t need you or anyone else to play the big strong protector. I can handle myself. I’m going home." Without giving her the chance to respond, you turn on your heel and storm off, your mind swirling with frustration. Each step feels like a release, but the anger still churns in your chest, tightening its grip with every thought.

Behind you, Naaila stands frozen, still in shock. She watches as your figure disappears down the street, the glow of streetlights casting long shadows around her.

As your footsteps fade away, she mutters to herself, her voice barely above a whisper, "Kamo Choso is a bad omen."

a/n: could u tell I'm a massive mahito hater.

taglist: @kodzukenmaaa @markleeisdabestdrug

(please send a dm or comment on my the pinned blog to join.)

𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫…

[thefandomenchantress]

Beach Day! (DRDT)

A/N - I saw a post by @ashuukii about the cast’s swimwear, and decided to make a beach-themed post as well! So here’s a one-shot type thing for what would happen if the DRDT cast went to the beach. Sorry if it’s a little rough around the edges, I wrote this while I was at the…Well, the beach, ironically.

“I really don’t see why Eden insisted we all go to the beach together.” Charles complained as the class arrived at the beach.

Whit, who was walking beside him, shrugged. “I dunno. Something about forming stronger bonds as a class.” He answered, before smiling up at the chemist. “But it’ll be fun!”

“I suppose.” Charles sighed, kicking the sand in frustration as they neared the spot where the class was going to set up their umbrellas, towels, and other items.

“I have sooo many beach-related puns to use!” Whit exclaimed, carelessly tossing his towel in a random patch of sand. Their other classmates soon followed, also dropping the supplies they were holding onto the sand.

“Everyone make sure to put on sunscreen before you get in the water!” Eden exclaimed, already making a large pile of sand to stick their umbrella in.

“That’s a good idea, Eden. We wouldn’t want anyone to get sunburnt.” Hu agreed, unfolding a few beach chairs near Eden’s newly opened beach umbrella.

Everyone began doing as the two asked, and Arei approached J after finishing. “So…J.” She began as the effects artist sprayed some sunscreen on her legs. “I bet you’re gonna look super cute in your swim suit today.” She said teasingly, noticing J hadn’t taken off her sweatshirt yet.

“I know you’re just trying to embarrass me. It’s not going to work today.” J responded, despite the fact her face was already turning pink. “And don’t call me cute.”

Arei just kept on smiling, barely even acknowledging J’s annoyance. “So, what kind of swim suit are you wearing, if it’s not a cute one?” She asked, putting on an innocent expression. “I don’t see how anything wouldn’t look cute on you.”

J, trying to ignore how red her face was, focused on the first half of Arei’s statement. “I’m wearing a one-piece swimsuit, because wearing a bikini is fucking girly.” She finally pulled off her sweatshirt, revealing a plain, black, one-piece swimsuit. She kept on her shorts, however.

“Hmm. I think you were wrong about not looking cute.” Arei said with a thoughtful expression, and J glared at her.

As the two bickered, Whit began pulling things out of the bag he brought. “What’s that?” Charles asked, pointing to a few squirt guns Whit had laid out in front of him.

“Water guns. You put water in them, and then you shoot the water at people.” Whit smiled up at him, pointing one of the squirt guns right at Charles. “Which reminds me, I filled them up with sink water before I got here.”

Realizing what Whit was implying, Charles began to back away from the smaller boy. And thus, a chase began as Charles ran down the beach to escape Whit’s aim, Whit leaving the rest of the squirt guns for his classmates to use if they wanted to.

Hu, who figured to best way to avoid the water fight would be to avoid her classmates for a bit, finally left the shade of the umbrella to head near the water. Instead of going swimming, however, she instead paced slowly along the shore, staring at the ground. She did this for a minute or so before a deep voice startled her.

“Would you mind if I asked what you were doing?” Levi asked as he caught up to her, after jogging from their spot on the beach to her.

“Ah!” Hu exclaimed, a bit startled, before recovering. “Of course I wouldn’t mind. I’m trying to find sea glass.”

Levi tilted his head to the side slightly, confused. “What is ‘sea glass’?” He asked, and conveniently, Hu happened to spot a piece at that very moment. She leaned down and gently picked it up off of the sand before the tide could carry it away.

“Sea glass is discarded, broken glass that’s been weathered down by the ocean, making the edges smooth and sometimes giving it the appearance of colored rocks. They’re almost always green, brown, or white, but I prefer the green ones.” She gave a small laugh, gesturing to her outfit, which was almost completely comprised of green. “Though I suppose that’s to be expected. The ocean turns the glass the prettiest shades.”

Levi analyzed the green piece of sea glass she had in her hand, and nodded in agreement. “They’re rather beautiful, I agree. Would you mind if I joined you in your search?”

“You’re free to join me, Levi.” Hu reassured him. And so the two continued walking slowly along the shoreline in peace and quiet.

Meanwhile, Nico was also enjoying some peace and quiet as they used half the meat in the sandwich that was supposed to be their lunch to try and attract some of the smaller fish.

They were sitting in the shallow, one-foot-deep water near the shore. They didn’t like fully submerging themselves in water. One of their many cat-like traits, they supposed.

They flinched as Xander splashed past them recklessly, trying to run away from Whit and his squirt gun. Nico frowned as the commotion scared away the few fish that had gathered around them.

“Sorry, Nico!” Xander exclaimed, ducking behind them for cover. Whit pretended to glare at the rebel before turning away to find a new target. Just as he turned around, Veronika shot water straight at his face from her own water gun, and Whit laughed before engaging in a water battle with her.

“Thanks, Nico.” Xander said, standing up from behind the animal therapist. He noticed Nico’s poorly-hidden disappointed expression. “Hey, what’s wrong?” He asked, concerned.

“Well…Is this the kind of situation where you actually want to know?” Nico asked uncertainly.

Xander nodded eagerly. “Of course.”

“Well…You scared away the fish, and now I’m kind of mad at you.” Nico said honestly, beginning to take the last of the lunch meat out of their sandwich. Maybe it was enough to attract the fish again.

“Oh, shit! Sorry, Nico.” Xander looked at their disassembled sandwhich. “Uh…What are you doing with your sandwich?”

“Using some of the meat to attract the fish.” Nico answered, about to put the meat under the water before Xander harshly yanked their hand back up.

“Hey, wait! You can’t just have bread for lunch.” He insisted. “I’ll go get my sandwich, and you can use some of that meat.” He put a hand behind his neck sheepishly. “It’s the least I could do.”

“If you’re sure.” Nico agreed, and Xander sprinted through the water back to the umbrellas, where his sandwich was.

Arturo scowled as Xander ran past. Arturo was currently laying down on a beach chair, wearing a large pair of sunglasses and pretending to be important.

“Arturo!” Arturo grimaced at the sound of a certain Ultimate Horror Fanatic calling his name. “Aren’t you going to come swim?” Veronika asked as she ran up to him. She was soaking wet, and when she leaned over him she dripped water all over the taller boy.

Arturo rolled his eyes, not that Veronika could see that, since he was wearing his oversized sunglasses. “No, I will not be joining you.” He said plainly, hoping Veronika would just retreat back to the water and leave him alone. She did no such thing.

“Why not?” Veronika questioned, glancing behind him for a moment. Arturo didn’t see this, however. “You’ll have fun!”

“I doubt it.” Arturo grumbled. He was about to continue, but right at that moment a gallon of water was poured onto his head.

“Sorry, Arturo!” Eden exclaimed, giggling. “Veronika said she’d buy me an ice cream if I helped sneak attack you!”

“I think we made him mad.” Veronika pointed out excitedly as Arturo shook with anger. He slowly began to get up out of his chair, and the girls understood that this meant he was ready to enact revenge.

Eden and Veronika then spent the next five minutes running away from an angry Arturo, who eventually gave up on catching them and stalked back to his beach chair.

Eden and Veronika’s paces slowed to a walk as they continued to make their way down the beach. After a bit, they spotted Teruko and Min working on a rather large sand castle.

Eden immediately sat down next to them. “Woah, it looks great!” She exclaimed, admiring the sand castle. Just as she said this, the entire thing collapsed, most likely due to Teruko’s bad luck.

Teruko sighed. “That keeps happening. Sorry, Min,” She apologized, trying and failing to salvage the toppled castle.

Min nodded understandingly. “It’s alright, Teruko. It wasn’t very structurally sound anyway.”

“Have you read any books about making sand castles, Min?” Eden asked as she helped rebuild the castle, picking up a plastic bucket and shovel.

“Sadly, no.” Min replied.

“Ooh, crabs!” Veronika exclaimed excitedly, pointing to an army of small crabs that were crawling towards Teruko. Teruko immediately jumped up from the ground and backed away from them.

“Ugh, those things always pinch me.” She complained.

“Hmm. Crabs are surprising powerful for their size. They can even draw blood if you’re not careful.” Min said. “Though I’m sure you know that, Teruko.”

“Yeah…” Teruko sighed.

Just as they were beginning to make their sand castle look like a castle instead of a pile of sand, David approached them. “Hello.” He greeted. “I was wondering if any of you would like to come down to the ice cream shop with me? Or maybe just tell me what flavor you’d prefer I get you? Provided you pay for it.”

“I’ll go with you.” Teruko answered immediately. Even hanging out with David was better than a hoard of angry crabs. Eden looked at Veronika hopefully, reminding the red head of her promise. Veronika sighed dramatically before pulling out a ten dollar bill and handing it to David.

“Can you get me a chocolate ice cream?” Eden asked excitedly. David nodded.

“Get me the most obscure flavor you can find! I get bored if I eat the same flavor every time.” Veronika requested—Well, more like demanded.

“Alright. Min, do you want anything?” David asked. The Ultimate Student shook her head, continuing to rebuild the sandcastle. “In that case, we’ll be back soon.”

And so, Teruko and David strode along the beach towards the ice cream shop. Before long, however, J and Arei spotted them. “Oh, are you guys getting ice cream?” J asked, spotting the money in David’s hand.

“Yeah. You want some?” Teruko asked.

“Teruko, we’re already getting four ice creams, we can’t carry five.” David reminded her.

“I’ll just come with you guys, then.” J decided. Arei looked utterly betrayed by that statement.

“Wait, you’re leaving me?!” She exclaimed, dropping the beach ball they’d been playing with. “But I’ll be so lonely…” She whined, fake tears in her eyes.

“Just hang out with someone else.” J suggested.

“Who? No one else is as fun as you.” Arei complained.

J sighed. “How about…” She looked around for Arei’s next victim playmate. After a moment, she spotted Ace and Rose, who were underneath their beach umbrella, Ace spraying copious amounts of sunscreen on himself and Rose sleeping. Well, she knew who Arei would find more entertaining. “Ace. Go bother him.”

“Well…Okay.” Arei agreed. “HEY ACE!” She yelled, running towards him and away from J, David, and Teruko.

“Alright, let’s go.” J said, and they began to once again make their way towards the ice cream parlor that was a little ways away from the beach.

“Heeeey, Ace.” Arei greeted as she approached the jockey, sitting down next to him. He glared at her.

“What the fuck do you want?” He asked, inching away from her.

“J left, so now I’m playing with you.” Arei explained.

Ace rolled his eyes, opening a new bottle of sunscreen. “Go play with someone else—HEY!” Ace exclaimed as Arei snatched the sunscreen from him. He tried to snatch it back, but to no avail.

“You’ve already put on, like, thirty layers of sunscreen!” She exclaimed.

“Yeah, well, I don’t want to get skin cancer, okay?!?” He tried to grab the sunscreen again.

“You’re obviously stalling so you won’t have to go swimming. What, are you afraid of the ocean or something?” She asked.

Ace froze, his gloved hands fidgeting with the hem of his white tank top. “N-no.” He answered.

Arei raised an eyebrow. “Woooow, that was suuuper convincing! I totally believe you!” Arei said sarcastically.

“Shut the fuck up, alright?!? The ocean is super scary. Humans have only discovered, like, five percent of it, and there are lots of big, scary fish and—” Arei cut him off with a groan.

“Ugh, you’re such a wimp!” She exclaimed, before grabbing him by the wrist and trying to drag him to the water. He screamed in response, holding onto the umbrella with the other hand and refusing to let her drag him in.

Arei sighed. “Fine. How about this. If you go swimming with me and you don’t have fun, I’ll do your homework for a week. If you do have fun, you do my homework for a week.” Ace considered the offer for a moment, before slowly letting go of the umbrella and giving her a nervous nod of agreement.

“Yay! Let’s go!” Arei exclaimed, dragging him to the water and practically throwing him in.

“AREI WHAT THE FUCK?!?” Ace yelled, but Arei just cackled and ran in after him.

Meanwhile, J, David, and Teruko were approaching the ice cream shop. They entered, and were immediately hit with a refreshing blast of cold air.

“Air conditioning, how I’ve missed you.” J said as they headed over to the display case for all the ice cream.

“Shit, they’re out of my favorite flavor.” Teruko complained, earning a glare from a nearby mother and an amazed look from her six-year-old son who was probably going to teach the swear word to all his friends when he got home.

“What’s your favorite flavor?” David asked curiously.

“Vanilla.” Teruko answered.

“Whose favorite flavor is vanilla? That’s so boring.” David commented. Teruko opened her mouth to go on an angry rant about why vanilla was great, actually, before J interrupted them.

“Shut up, you two, we need to order.” She said. “What do you two want?”

“I guess I’ll get chocolate.” Teruko sighed.

“Strawberry.” David answered.

Teruko gave him an annoyed look. “Wait, you were complaining about my favorite flavor being vanilla and yours is strawberry? That’s just pink vanilla ice cream.”

They started to argue again, and J sighed, turning to the half-asleep cashier. “I’ll get two chocolates, one strawberry, one mint chocolate chip, and…” J turned to the other two. “What flavor did Veronika want?”

“The weirdest one we could find.” Teruko answered, briefly pausing her argument with David.

J looked at all the flavors and eventually answered uncertainly, “…The sharknado?” It seemed to be blueberry flavored ice cream with mini gummy sharks on top, which would probably be weird enough for Veronika.

The cashier yawned, and asked, “Cup or waffle cone?” J turned to the other two uncertainly.

“Cups. That way we can be sure the ice cream won’t melt and fall on the ground or something on the way back to the beach.” Teruko decided.

And just a few minutes later, they were walking out of the ice cream parlor, their ice creams in their hands. They began to walk back to the beach.

Back at the beach, everyone was slowly getting tired from being in the sun all day, and were beginning to look forward to leaving…All except one, that is.

“Mhm…” Rose mumbled as she sat up, taking note of how far the sun had moved in the sky. It had probably been at least a few hours…

Rose sleepily gazed at the beach in front of her, spotting all her classmates having fun and messing around.

Hu and Levi were carrying small handfuls of sea glass as they headed towards her. To her surprise, Arei had managed to drag Ace into the water, and while the jockey was trying to look annoyed, it was obvious he was having fun. Whit and Charles were having a water gun fight, Charles looking way happier than usual. Min, Eden, Veronika, Teruko, J, and David were all gathered around a vaguely sand castle-like mound of sand and eating ice cream, Min and Teruko sharing theirs. Xander and Nico were using most of their lunches to attract small fish. And Arturo was resting next to her, seemingly asleep.

Hmm…The scene looked like it belonged in a movie. Or a painting.

Rose smiled. She barely ever made anything original anymore, thanks to her job as an Art Forger, but for the first time in a long while…She had an excellent idea for an original piece.

A/N - I tried to give everyone an even amount of screen time, so sorry if some characters got more than others. Nevertheless, I hope anyone who’s read this far enjoyed this little one-shot!

[more-cardigan-than-woman]

The Babysitter- Day 3

Summary: Jason tries to train you, you try not to push his buttons for a change.

Theif!Reader x The Red Hood

Words: 2.8k

Day 2

Warnings: 18+, Fluff, pining, tension clad training, swearing.

"Get up, trouble maker," his fist raps on your door, "we've got places to be."

“Get fucked,” you mumble, putting the pillow over your head and rolling back into the sheets.

“You swearing at me?” he hits the door again, “Don’t you remember what I said about that?”

“Yes.” you moan, swinging your legs over the side of the bed.

“Are you getting up?”

“I’m up. I'm getting dressed. Give a girl a second.”

“Put on something comfortable.”

“Can do, Mr bossy boots,” you poke your tongue out at the door, searching through your drawers for your favourite pair of pink leggings and that cute black crop Harley gave you. “Shit, where are my sneakers?” you start crawling under the bed looking for them.

“You’re taking too long,” you hear his voice echo from down the hall. “Hurry up.” “Yeah, well,” storming out of your room, “You said to put on something comfy and all I could find were my pumps, which are not comfy and my sneakers seemed to have vanished into thin air. I also wanted like one second to maybe, too I dunno, put my hair up and not look like a trash panda first thing in the morning. But here we are." You sigh dramatically, "I look like shit, my hair is a wasp's nest and I still don't have any- Ugh!” you look down at the green pair of shoes now resting in your hands, “You found my sneakers! Thanks'' you beam, sitting right down on the ground and slipping them on.

When you look back up at Jason he stares at you like you've grown a second head, “I know my hair is a mess, you told me to hurry. What do ya want from me?”

“No, nothing. Here,” he says, handing you a coffee, “Found these to go cups,” shit, did you actually listen to him? He tries to pinpoint what he said, maybe he’ll be able to replicate it? Hopefully, because fuck, he never expected to get a thank you this early or to even have you listen to him long enough to do what he asked.

“So, what's the plan? You're going to take me out the back and shoot me for being the most annoying client ever? Maybe take me out for breakfast, wine and dine me?" You shrug, your hands flying around as you talk, "Throw me into a fighting pit and see if I don't die? Lots and lots of options for you.”

“You’ll see when we get there." Jason says as he picks up his duffle bag, "And if you’re good, I’ve got a gift for you.”

“Good? But that's so subjective,” you sip on your coffee, “Good could mean a number of things to numerous different types of people. Your version of good is definitely very different from mine, so how will I even know if I'm being good?”

“You want rules?”

“No, but some guidelines would be nice. Do I need to bring anything else?”

“Nothing else. How about we start with, don’t steal.”

“Boring." You roll your eyes at him, "how about I don’t get caught stealing.”

“Don’t steal from me then. How's that?”

“Fair. anything else? Oh Mr big boss man?”

“No more swearing at me,”

“You really don't like it do you?”

“I do not and since I'm stuck with you for a week, I’d like you to respect it.”

“Fine, I won’t swear AT you. Maybe just around you.”

“That's the best I'm going to get isn't it?”

”Better deal than anyone else has ever had.”

“Lets go then. It's not far from here,”

“What isn't?” he ignores you, opening the door to your apartment and silently waiting for you to follow.

“We’ve got a ten minute walk ahead of us. How about you guess where we're going and I'll tell you if you get close.” Jason offers, thinking that maybe if he can make a game of your talking he can keep you on track. Maybe keep those distracting thoughts and wandering eyes from things in people's pockets if he finds something to occupy you while you walk. To his great shock you smile at him, almost delighted at the idea. An idea he came up with and fuck its almost as hot as that fierce smirk you gave him yesterday.

“Perfect.”

Xx

“I was so close,” you say, pushing your arms together in excitement, “I nearly guessed gym,”

“But ya didn't. For some reason you keep thinking I own a castle. Do I give off vampire vibes or something?”

“Maybe, vampires are supposed to be pretty to lure in prey,” you press your back into the gym door and it swings open, “and you're ok looking I guess.”

“Really?” he stalks in infront of you, “You said I was pretty the other day. What's changed?”

“Nothing, you're still pretty. Now I just know how mean you are.”

“Mean? You haven't seen mean.”

“Ooo big threats from the macho man.” you shake your hands in front of you as you walk backwards. “I'm shaking in my sneakers.”

“Not yet. But you didn't notice,”

“What?” you stare at him before realising how quiet the gym is and take a look around, “Where the fuck is everyone?”

“You scared now?”

“Not really. You're big, but I'm faster,” you take off running around the gym, trying your best to get away and when you turn he hasn't even moved. “Knew you couldn't catch me and gave up already?”

“No, you can make all the trouble you want over there. I’ll be over here when you're ready. We’ve got all day and if you get hungry there's snacks in the break room.”

He what? Fine. well. You have been entertaining yourself for years. Surely you can do it for a whole day. You grab the rope dangling from the ceiling and start to climb. Climbing for some reason always clears your mind. Maybe it was because if you didn't focus on where your feet are or your hands, you would literally fall and break your neck.

When you reach the top you peer down and see him with his hands bound, punching hard into the bag. His shirt is off and you can see the large muscles of his back flex with every single swipe. “Whoops'' you laugh, almost losing your grip. Now, how does Harley do it? You think, twisting your leg through the rope releasing one hand and falling down to grip it with the other. Wow. this is easy, think to yourself. Before your hand slips and you're crashing into the ground. "Oh, closer than I thought." You say rubbing the sore spot on the back of your head.

He glances back, catching your eye, but turns right back around and continues to hit the bag. Fucking woman, he thinks to himself, as he unleashes his frustration on the punching bag, "she's more of a danger to herself than than anyone else. Doesn't fucking listen, except apparetnly, when she fucking wants too. We're only on the third day and she's already making my skin crawl. "He slams a fist into the bag, "even giving her space doesn't seem to be calming her down any. And there she goes climbing shit again, like she's fuckin Grayson."

Though, he admits to himself, it may have a little to do with his own frustrations. He can't help but watch you. Those tight ass pink leggings carrying you into the break room, your ass on full display as you, is that a hop or skip? Either way, it's fucking cute. Cute? Fuck, he hits the bag again, this time blowing it off the chain and sending it flying.

Maybe he needs a break too. Wiping his face with the towel he trudges on over to the break room. Not expecting to find you balancing on a chair as you reach for the top shelf. "What are you doing?"

"People always hide the best snacks here," you say, because you're right.

"Let me." He says grabbing the chair and pushing you out of the way, letting out a little laugh as you struggle not to fall from it. He grabs the box of cookies from the very back of the shelf, "here."

"Thanks," you smile, snatching the cookies from him and sitting your ass on the table.

"Water?" He asks, did you just say it again? What the fuck is with you today? Maybe you hit your head too hard on the ground, or someone knocked you with a sense hammer while you were asleep.

"Please, I'm so thirsty," you ogle him when he turns to the fridge. Smiling at him in the way you’ve seen Harley do to Ivy when she wants something. Noticing that manners seem to be getting you things and he promised to give you a gift if you were good, so maybe the gift will be a batarang. But it feels weird when he looks at you like that, like you want to make him angry again. To see just how far you can push him before he snaps. Those eyes though, what is he looking at? What is he seeing? And like what is up with him?

"Catch," Jason throws a bottle of water at you and you catch it spinning it around on your palm before taking a sip.

"Just what I need,"

"Drink up because if you're done playing around it's time to train."

"That mean I've been good?"

"Yes. Now get out on the mat."

“But my gift?” you make eyes at him, holding out your hand, like where the fuck is my gift.

“I didn’t bring it with me. You’ll have to wait.”

“I can have it though?”

“You can. Now what did I say?’

“You don’t have my gift?”

“No. Get on the fucking mat.”

"OOo, was that a swear? Bad bad man,” you laugh at how serious his expression is, “What happens when I get on the mat? Is it easier to kill me?"

"Yes.” he ignores your comment, clenching his fists at his side, “But you want to learn how to disarm someone. So, go."

“Ok and you're definitely not going to kill me?”

“I don't get paid if you're dead.”

“Did they not already pay you? That's dumb, you should've gotten paid upfront. They're more likely to swindle you if you don't get it all at once.”

“And who told you that?”

“One of the 2 faced guys, he was nice. I don't remember his name, maybe Luke? Leo?” You say as you make your way out into the gym and towards the matted area, “it was definitely an L or maybe a J.”

“Does it matter?”

“Spose not, bats caught him last week. Guys rotting in arkham.” you shake your arms out and crack your neck, “So how do I do this?”

"Stand like," he moves you, his huge hands on your shoulders making your tummy do flips, his strong legs kicking your knees apart and almost sending them crumbling down.

"I feel like a doll," you swat him away, while trying to push the heat in your chest away too, "stop doing that, just tell me how to do it."

"I'm trying, if you would just-" he runs his hands down his face. He picks up a stray foam roller, "take this from me."

"Really? Not even going to give me a tip?"

"Be fast."

"Right, so helpful."

"Well you didn't want me moving you around, so do it yourself."

You try just jumping forward, but he moves so fast, easily jumping out of the way. You go to the side and he darts away. After four tries of this you sigh, "fine. If it's going to help just show me."

"Ask nicer."

"Please, will you help me?” you roll your eyes at his predictability.

“Without the attitude.”

“Please, Mr man handling macho man.”

"Good girl," you feel a shiver run down your spine as the words leave his lips and he stands in front of you with his fingertips on the edge of your skin.

"No man handling, ok?"

"Yes, just listen. Keep your legs apart, your arms loose- yeah like that. Now I'm going to stand still and I want you to reach over it, grab my hand and run yours down until you feel the roller and then pull back. You got it?"

"I think so," you step forward, reaching your arm out.

"Keep your feet even."

"Like that?"

"Yeah, but more on the ground. The tip toes will throw you off."

"What?" You say, not even realizing you were doing it. Not noticing him moving before the roller pushes into your tummy and you're on your ass, "hey! Rude!"

"See what I mean?"

"Point taken. No tip toes." You take his hand as he helps you to your feet.

"Try again," he steps back unto his previous potion, "flat feet."

"Yeah, so I just," you focus too hard on your feet and trip into him, "shi- I mean shoot. Sorry."

"Go again," he pushes you back up, “maybe just try it from here," his hand on yours guiding you along his arm, "this too much manhandling?"

"No, it's," your eyes locked on where your hand is touching his sculpted forearm, "down like this?"

“Yes, now grab a hold-" your fingers wrap around the foam roller but you can't seem to get it from his hand. You peer up only to see him staring back down at you "-take it," he whispers in a voice so soft you think your insides might melt out your ass.

"You're holding it too tight," you complain, yanking on it, "that's not fair."

"You think people are going to let you take whatever you want from them?" he smirks down at you, his eyes daring you to prove him wrong.

"No," you slide your hand down to hold over where he's gripping the roller, "but that's never stopped me before," you jump, swinging your legs over, using him as a balustrade as you flip over to sit on his arms, bouncing your ass to try and get him to let go.

"And you were being so good," he chuckles, dropping the roller and you onto the mat. "Shame," he looks down on you stepping away, fuck you were so close he could smell the candy scented shampoo in your hair, and feel your perky little ass on his arms. It was all he could do not to spin you around and kiss you. "I was going to show you how to aim properly once you got it out of my hand."

"No, no. I want a rematch. Give me another go," you pause, wanting to get him close, just one more time today, "please?"

"1 more."

"Yeah, just one, come on. Please? I think I've got the hang of it now. Please."

"Ok, but I'm not going easy on you like last time."

"Ready?"

"Always."

You leap at him, faking out to the left and zapping back to the right before your hand is on the foam roller. You know he's stronger than you, so you bend your legs gripping tight to it as you bounce up, flipping but instead of going up and over, you plummet face first into the mat, "what the fuck?" You mumble into the plastic.

"That was a good tactic," he leans down onto your ear. "It might've worked if I hadn't seen it coming," his hand reaches down to you, "But you've got the hang of it. Tomorrow we can work on your aim.".

"My aim is fine,"

"Is it? because you've yet to hit me."

'Maybe I'm doing it on purpose," you mumble, turning away.

"What was that?"

"What? You think you're all that, Macho man? Fine, show me, you got any guns I can play with anyway?"

"Not here."

"Where we going?" You say, following him as he heads towards the front door.

"Back to your apartment."

"But guns.." you whine, rolling your eyes behind him.

"We can do that tomorrow. Right now I need some decent food and some quiet."

"Quiet? Well Honey, you’ve come to the wrong woman."

“We will see.”

Xx

“Nearly got it,” You smile to yourself as your tools pick at the lock on your window. “Just a few more, yes!” You throw your hand over your mouth hoping he didn't hear you.

“Macho man thinks he can boss me around and keep me locked in my own apartment. Idiot. Pretty fuckign idiot.” Fuck, what is wrong with you? Here's your escape and you find yourself looking at your door, wondering what he's doing right now.

Didn't take as long as I expected, he stares down at the notification on his phone as he lays back in your spare room. “I’m so impressed, little trouble maker,” he whispers, glancing at your closed door across the hall, “managed to get it unlocked in 3 days. Now the real test begins.”

Day 4

Taglist:

@letmebebatmanpls @hypnobanditprofessorhorse-blog

@nutmeg030 @igotanidea @tild3ath @halbhohehalluzination

@goblinhobo @efam @princessbl0ss0m @bubbles-incorrect-yb

@ilikw @megumisbabymomma @mxtokko

[nevloveslemons]

Falling For the Saint (Clive Babineaux x Reader Insert)

Tags?: AFAB Reader, Clutzy reader, Season 1-2 ish, reader type to try and quietly eat at 4 am and end up accidentally walking up everyone, Fluff, strangers to friends to lovers, I’m giving you a name a personality, Pink haired insert (dyed,) ummmmmm I dunno let’s feel the vibe. probably many police precinct inaccuracies.

Today was going abnormally slow today, like usual. From the moment Clive hit his snooze button at 5, he decided today was going to be low key. Today somehow drained him, thinking about what whacky personality trait ‘Liv’s going to have today from trying to bring up the missing kids to his Lieutenant, from deciding what stale donut he’ll snack on for ‘lunch’ because he forgot his homemade packed lunch in the fridge somehow. (He even sat on the couch for 5 minutes just sitting.)

after getting ready and getting his holy grail; black coffee (he hate’s the stereotype of cops; donuts, plain coffee because they can’t afford the time, stiff posture, proper, despite showing many of them.) He walked into the precinct, unconsciously checking to see if everything’s under control and calm, which it was not.

In the bullpen he noticed an abundance of his fellow detectives here ON time with is unusual as his superiors aren’t as strict as they should be when it comes to being on time. He passed through the gate and saw his co-workers surrounding someone. You. He pauses, he’s never seen someone so… colourful?

You’re clad in a cat-red, maxi skirt with matching coloured beret and pumps. You had a black and white pocadot blouse with small-medium, poofy sleeves. Even your makeup was bold, bold but colourful, his mind actually went to Marilyn Monroe. Your lips were glossy and red, blush a cool rouge, your cat eyeliner and eye makeup drew him in, kin to the characters he had a crush on as a child in animation movies.

He realized after analyzing your outfit he was being creepy. He quickly snapped his head away from your being and started towards his desk. “Clive! Clive!” One of his co-workers grabbed his jacket with their fingers. He was surprised but held his strong expression, instead letting an exasperated looking face whilst raising his eyebrows, waiting for an answer. “Have you met Beth?” They asked with excitement clear in their tone.

“Uh, no considering I just walked through the gates.” He answered. His tone coming out bored and annoyed, he was a tad annoyed; yes, but it was mainly just his tone/being. He wasn’t trying to sound like this. “We’ll turn your frown upside down” he couldn’t resist, he rolled his eyes. “She’s so bright honestly! A bit of a clutz; I moved in everyones mugs away from the edge of their desks, but she just got transferred from the 99th precinct!” They then pull him to the box of muffins that caught his attention. (other than you lol, if i got to- man now I want a Timmies blueberry muffin :()

“Beth brought these in as a like ‘token of appreciation?’ If we cops were doing that pretty sure we’re supposed to but, eh?”

Pumpkin-Walnut. Acquired.

After his brunch muffin he did a bit of paper work, some back and forth between his desk, the board, and the morgue and by time you know it. It’s lunch. Like stated, brunch muffin, Clive thinks it’s okay to make breakfast count as lunch (8-10 bfast 11-1 lunch, he had his muffin at 7 and hasn’t eaten since.) He was sitting at his desk, leaning his chin on his right hand whilst closing his eyes and not thinking… just, sitting? Then he could feel someone approach him so he eyed his eyes to see you. The Newbie.

“Hello, Detective Babineaux, I’m Elizabeth Johnson. I transferred here from the Nine-Nine and according to our Lieutenant, you’ve been put on my ‘babysitting?’” He looks at you whilst you explain your being there when he hears a rather loud, gurgle. His eyes go from yours to your stomach and back to yours, once he sees your face he notices how quickly you flushed.

“Ah, I apologize. I forgot my lunch at home and planned to have a muffin for lunch only to find them gone.” You let a small chuckle out and let your eyes wonder to anywhere but Clive’s eyes.

“I guess you and I are in the same boat, huh?” He says in hopes of settling some of your embarrassment.

“Oh! You forgot your lunch too?” Your eyes light up, seemingly forgetting about your former emotion. “Uh, yeah-“ He begins going on about what he had packed for lunch. You two talked the duration just about food. You’re not sure how, it went from your lunches and how you wish you had them to the containers their in to the spices and seasonings used. Clive doesn’t realize it but he started to smile when talking to you.

(First time writing on here…..)

[spiral-tap]

Devil Woman - Part 1

In Jane’s room.

Daria: …is it just me, or are they louder than usual?

Jane: Trent got a new amp. Sounds like he’s still working out the kinks.

Daria: Oh

Jane: Let’s go say hi.

Daria: No…that’s uhhh…

Jane: C’mon, Jane said, tugging on Daria’s jacket sleeve

Jane: Yo, Trent! You wanna turn it down a bit?

Trent: Are you kidding? Gotta get the reverb just right.

Jesse: You guys outta come to the Mystik Spiral gig tonight. We’ll put you on the list.

Trent: Yeah. I’ve got someone I’d like to introduce you to—-

Jane interrupted: Noooo that’s okay. Not tonight. Daria and I already have BIG plans.

Daria: Ummm…we do…?

Jane: Yes. BIG plans. Don’t you remember, Daria? Actually, we’ve got to go now. Later.

Jane said tersely as she dragged Daria up the basement stairs.

Trent: Oh ok. Next time 

When they were safely back in Jane’s room, Daria asked: What was that about?

Jane: Oh nothing. I uhhhh just wanted to uhhhh get your thoughts on my newest piece., she said, pointing to an almost blank canvas

Daria: Uh-huh. What’s really going on?

Jane: Damn. Sure can’t get anything past you, can I? 

Daria: What can I say? I’m just too good at reading people.

Jane: Trent has a new girlfriend, and I didn’t want you to know.

Daria: You mean he’s back with Monique?

Jane: No, they really broke up for good that time…

Daria: Oh

Jane: But you know Trent. It’s probably just some random girl he picked up at a club. I’m sure they’ll be broken up by the end of the week.

Daria, shifting her gaze away from Jane: And uhhhh…what’s she like…?

Jane: Dunno. I haven’t met her yet.

Daria: Uh ok. Maybe I should just go home…

Jane: C’mon Daria. Don’t go. We still have the Sick Sad World marathon tonight.

Daria: I guess I could stay…

Jane: It’ll be fun., Jane said, turning the TV on

TV: Bikini clad and foaming at the mouth?! Rabid babes with rabies. Tonight on Sick Sad World!

The next morning, Daria woke to the unexpected smell of food cooking…? At the Lane’s…?!

Daria: Hey Jane…Jane…

Jane: ….hurgh…?, Jane groaned

Daria: Do you smell that?

Jane: Hrmmm…?

All of a sudden, there was a faint tap on the door. Then a familiar voice called out “Janey” as Trent entered the room.

Trent: Janey, there’s breakfast., he said, pausing briefly, “Oh. Hey Daria.”

Daria, after an uncomfortably long pause, mumbled “…Hey” as she reached for her glasses. Her face flushed as Trent’s outline came into focus. 

Jane, pulling her head out of her pillow: …What are you talking about Trent? …And put some damn pants on, we have company.

Trent: Hmmmm? Daria doesn’t mind, do you Daria?, Trent chuckled as he walked out of the room, scratching his stomach. The sound of his coughing faded as he made his way down the stairs.

Jane: Wait. Did he just say breakfast?

Daria was silent.

Jane: Daria…? Hey Daria…? Hmmm…Hey girl with the red face who’s forgotten how to speak.

Daria: Huh?

Jane: Oh nevermind.

Daria: Oh, I—-

Jane: Let’s go investigate this alleged “breakfast.”

As they turned the corner into the kitchen, there she stood. An unfamiliar woman. 

She was tall, curvaceous, and…bursty. In fact, she was almost too bursty for the tight black crop tee she was wearing. She had long auburn hair, green eyes, and a dangly bellybutton ring that stopped just above the top of her denim miniskirt.

Jane: Uhhhh hello there.

Trent: Hey. Janey. Daria. This is my girlfriend Esmeralda. She made breakfast.

Daria frowned. “Girlfriend?” she thought. The word stung like a splash of ice cold water to the face. “Is Trent really dating someone like her?” She didn’t look anything like Monique. Was she really Trent’s type? Just what exactly IS Trent’s type? Her inner dialog was interrupted by the new woman.

Esmeralda: Good morning!, she said cheerfully

Jane: Oh hey

Daria: ummm hello, she muttered quietly

As the girls sat down, Esmeralda said “Sooo Jane, Daria. Trent’s told me a lot about you.” Turning to Jane, she continued “He said you’re quite the talented artist. And you Daria. He said you’re a writer. That’s so cool.”

Jane: I’ve been known to dabble in the occasional oil paint or two.

Daria muttered: “Uhhh yeah”

Trent: Daria, Esmeralda’s like…a writer too. She’s a journalist.

Esmeralda: I just do a bit of freelance work for some magazines.

Trent: In New York City. She’s the real deal.

After another uncomfortably long silence.

Esmeralda: Ummmm I made blueberry pancakes, bacon, and eggs. There’s coffee and orange juice too. What would you like?

Jane: Oh uhhhh. I’ll have the works.

Esmeralda: How do you take your coffee?

Jane: black

Esmeralda: And you Daria?

Daria: Oh uhhhh…I’m not really hungry.

Trent: Have a pancake Daria. They’re good.

Daria: …oh. Ok. I guess I’ll have a pancake. Thanks.

Esmeralda: Coming right up!

Jane: So where did all this food come from?

Trent: Esmé went shopping this morning before she came over

Daria: Esmé?

Esmeralda: Oh, that’s just what Trenty calls me.

Jane: Trenty…?, Jane chuckled 

Jane: So “Trenty,” how did you kids meet?

Trent: We just, ya know, hooked up after the Mystik Spiral gig a few weeks ago.

Esmeralda: I’m doing a piece on metal bands in middle America, so I’ve been going to gigs all summer. And one night I met Trent.

Trent: We started talking after the show and it was just like…meant to be, ya know? She gets me.

Jane noticed the growing look of anguish on Daria’s normally expressionless face as she pushed a sole blueberry around her plate.

Jane: Well, it was nice to meet you. But Daria needs to get home now. She’s got to ummm…

Daria: Help my mom…take Quinn…to the uhh…

Jane: …doctor. They’re putting her down.

Daria: Don’t wanna miss that.

Jane: Bye bye!

Daria: Uhhh bye

Trent: Later

A look of concern washed over Trent’s face as he watched the two exit  the room. “Hmmm” he sighed.

On the walk to Daria’s…

Jane: Don’t look so down. You heard Trent, he said they just hooked up after a show.

Daria: Yeah. I did hear Trent. That’s the problem.  Or did you completely miss the part where he said they’re meant to be?

Jane: Trent barely knows this chick. 

Daria: He knows her well enough to invite her into your house to make breakfast.

Jane: We’re not too particular about who comes into Casa Lane.  Plus it’s early. He’s not really a morning person. He probably didn’t even know what he was saying.

Daria: whatever

Jane: Trent’s a bit ummm idealistic when it comes to dating. He used to say the same stuff about Monique, and we know how that ended.

Daria: I guess you’re right…but she’s so…you know…

Jane: What?

Daria: Just forget it

Jane: Out with it, young lady.

Daria, flustered: She’s all…bouncy. Like Quinn. Is someone like that really Trent’s type? I can’t compete with that.

Jane: Oh. Yeah. She sure wasn’t Trent’s usual type, I’ll give you that. But…It’s not a competition. And besides, girls like that don’t have the brain capacity to be interesting.

Daria: Uh huh

Jane: C’mon Daria. She’s pretty. Men are dumb when it comes to pretty girls. I’m sure they’ll break—-

Daria: If she’s pretty then what does that make me?

Jane: I didn’t mean it like that—-

Daria: …sorry, I know you didn’t. Anyways, thanks for walking me home.

Jane: See you tomorrow?

Daria: Maybe

A few days later. On the phone…

Jane: Hey

Daria: Hey

Jane: Mystic Spiral has a show tonight, and Trent asked me to see if you’re coming.

Daria: Trent…? Asked…about…me.?

Jane: Yes, you.

Daria: I don’t know…I just don’t really feel like going out…

Jane: Trent thinks you’re avoiding him.

Daria: I AM avoiding him…

Jane: I could sure use the company.

Daria: Alright, I guess

Later that night at the club…

Trent: This song is called Devil Woman.

/ Your hair is red like fire / Your body is my desire / It’s hot where you touch / But I can’t get enough / Burn me with your love / Whip me with your words / Devil woman, drag me straight to hell / Devil woman, drag me straight to hell / Yeah

Trent: We’re Mystik Spiral. But we’re thinking about changing the name.

As Trent exited the stage, Esmeralda ran up and kissed him.

Daria: I think I’m gonna be sick

Jane: Can I get you anything? Glass of water? Bleach for your eyes?

Daria: How about a glass of bleach?

Jane: I’ll see what I can rustle up at the bar.

Jane: Here’s a soda.

Daria: What about the bleach?

Jane: Fresh out, I’m afraid. Oh lookie! Here comes Trent.

Daria: Great…,she muttered

Trent: Hey Daria

Daria: Uhhh hey

Jane: Where’d your girl go?

Trent: Hmm? Oh, Esmeralda. She went to talk to Jesse about something. So…Daria…what’d you think of the set?

Daria, thinking to herself, “It would have been better if the floor had opened up under the ‘Devil Woman’ and dragged her straight to hell.”

Daria: It was ok

Trent: Hmmm, Trent sighed

Trent: Well, thanks for coming. You haven’t been around much.

Daria: Yeah. I’ve been busy.

Trent: Can’t be helped, I guess then. Well, I’ve gotta help them load the equipment into the Tank.

As he walked past Daria, Trent put his hand on her shoulder and whispered “Give her a chance, Daria.”

Daria: Huh?

Daria turned around, watching Trent disappear backstage.

Jane: What’d he say?

Daria: Oh, nothing.

Jane: Oh no…no secrets, missy.

Daria: He told me to give her a chance.

Jane: Who? Esmeralda?

Daria: I guess so. He didn’t say.

They suddenly felt a hand on each of their shoulders. It was Esmeralda.

Esmeralda: Hey. The band is gonna be here for a while, so I was wondering if you wanted to get some pizza. My treat.

Before Jane could get an excuse out, Daria said “Sure.”

A little while later, at Pizza King.

Esmeralda: Are you sure one pie is gonna be enough?

Jane: Maybe. At least until the band gets here.

Daria: Yeah

Jane: So how does our humble pizza compare to the stuff in New York City?

Esmeralda: It’s cheesy. It’s greasy. It’s good.

Daria: So what are you doing in Lawndale if you live in New York?

Esmeralda: Oh! I’m back visiting my parent’s for the summer.

Daria: Oh

Esmeralda: I say visiting my parents…but they actually just needed me to house sit while they’re on a cruise.

Jane: That makes more sense.

Esmeralda: Gotta stay on their good side. They’re paying my tuition., she chuckled

Daria: What do you study?

Esmeralda: I’m studying mathematics…and philosophy.

Daria: Really?

Jane: Didn’t Trent say you were a writer…?

Esmeralda: He makes a bigger deal about that than he should. I just do a bit of freelancing to help pay the bills.

She paused long enough to take a bite of pizza.

Esmeralda: It wasn’t until I met Trent that I decided to pursue writing more seriously. Like as a career. There’s not many people out there who just do exactly what they want to and chase their dreams. Your brother is really special.

Jane: He’s certainly something else…

Daria shifted anxiously in her seat. She’d agreed to go out with Esmeralda reflexively, because of what Trent said. But the more Esmeralda talked, the worse Daria felt. She’d secretly hoped that this would be an insight into just how vacant and uninteresting Esmeralda was. Confirmation that she still had something unique to offer.

Daria: I don’t feel so good. Bathroom., Daria blurted as she rushed away from the table with her hands covering her mouth.

Just then, Trent walked in with the rest of Mystik Spiral.

Trent: Hey Janey. Hey Esmé. Where’s Daria?

Jane: Bathroom. She wasn’t feeling too well. Bad pizza. I’m gonna go check on her.

Trent: Let me.

Trent walked over to the bathroom door and knocked softly.

Trent: Daria? You in there?

There was no response.

Trent: Hey Daria. It’s me. Trent. Can you come out? I wanna talk.

Daria splashed some water on her face and rinsed her mouth out before slinking out of the bathroom.

Trent: Not here. Let’s get some fresh air.

They exited through the back door to avoid walking past everyone else.

Daria: You wanted to talk to me?

Trent: Yeah. You ok?

Daria: Uhhh…I guess

Trent: Why don’t I give you a ride home? We can talk in the tank.

Daria: Shouldn’t we say something?

Trent: Nahhhh. Jesse is probably going to eat at least two pizzas by himself. We’ve got plenty of time. They won’t even notice.

Daria: Ok. Thanks

Driving back to Daria’s house, in the tank.

Trent: Hmmm. Daria, I…

Daria: Yea, Trent?

Trent: I’m sorry.

Daria: For what?

Trent: You know…everything.

Daria: Huh?

Trent: The timing just wasn’t right…for me to introduce you to Esmé.

Daria: Oh

Trent: Hmm. She’s good for me, Daria. And I always kind of felt you understood the way I think, so I thought you’d like her too…

Daria said nothing. She shrank in her seat, wondering if the drive home from Pizza King always took this long. Trent looked over at her. A frown swept across his face as he furrowed his brows.

Trent: I haven’t seen you around the house much. Janey misses having you around.

Daria: I told you, I’ve just been busy…

Trent: I know. But it’s kind of lonely in the house…without you.

Daria: What?

Trent: Come around the house again, ok? Even if it’s just for Janey.

Daria: Ok…

Trent: Looks like we’re here., he said as they pulled in front of the Morgendorffer house.

Daria: Yeah. Thanks for the ride.

He leaned over and gave her a peck on the cheek before she could get out of the car.

Trent: All right then, Daria. See you around.

He leaned against the steering wheel, watching her walk inside before heading back to the band, Jane, and Esmeralda.

The next day, Daria called Jane.

Daria: Hey

Jane: Feeling better?

Daria: Yeah. Sorry for just leaving like that.

Jane: No sweat. Trent explained that he drove you home.

Daria: Is that all he said?

Jane: He’s worried about you.

Daria: I tried, Jane. I tried to give her a chance. But she’s not just some shallow, air headed groupie…

Jane: I know…She’s actually pretty cool…and she’s good for the kid. Trent hasn’t been this happy in a while…I’m sorry.

Daria: Yeah…hey, can I come over?

Jane: Really?! Sure. Of course.

Daria: See you soon

Jane: See ya

[ipsen]

Noro and Tatara for the latest character ask please?

a necrophilia ship ask, huh... i'll try my best! LOL

norotara:

when I started shipping it if I did: literally never heard of this ship until you brought it up. very interesting, if a bit difficult to do so

my thoughts: well, it's another black and white aesthetic-type ship, and features the two quietest aogiri members. They're both very efficient in their own ways, and i like the image of tatara helping noro feed since the latter is... out of commission. tatara learning to care for a walking corpse because everyone he loves is already dead... there's something there.

What makes me happy about them: Well that's pretty easy. clears throat

ETO'S DAD IS ACTUALLY PRETTY RAD HE'S ALL I WANT, AND I'M OBSESSED JUST A TAD ETO CAN'T YOU SEE? YOUR DAD'S JUST THE GUY FOR ME I KNOW IT MIGHT BE BAD BUT I'M IN LOVE WITH ETO'S DAD

What makes me sad about them: they can't kiss with all the masks and rotting skin :(

things done in fanfic that annoys me: what fanfics

things I look for in fanfic: WHAT FANFICS

Who I’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other: houji and shiono, i guess? i don't know.

My happily ever after for them: A quiet life, much like their demeanors, and surrounded by those who care about them, even if it doesn't amount to much.

who is the big spoon/little spoon: tatara is the big spoon.

what is their favorite non-sexual activity: relaxing in silence. there's a comfort to being understood without speaking.

----

:P here's the character versions

noro

How I feel about this character: Eto's dad, and an underexplored individual. I write him like he holds a few anti-imperialistic views that Eto would eventually inherit, since a journal from a dead woman isn't enough in my eyes. Also was extremely intelligent and only really lacked a proper education.

All the people I ship romantically with this character: Uh...

My non-romantic OTP for this character: Him and Eto! I think they're neat together :]

My unpopular opinion about this character: Uh...... he's not very scary....?

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon: I wanted his backstory with Eto explored. I need to know his parallels to Ryouko Fueguchi right now.

my OTP: him and shiono :] (half joking)

my cross over ship: none

a headcanon fact: when eto was at the orphanage, he pretended to be a stuffed mannequin in the corner of the broom closet. also, when he was noroi, he made a mean hamburger steak.

----

tatara

How I feel about this character: very cool! he should get his own spinoff series because he's almost a main character in like, a shounen or something i dunno LOL

All the people I ship romantically with this character: scratches head i mean kousuke houji is right there. why not. i intimately get it. i wonder why. also putting in a vote for one-sided etora. i want him prostrating himself before her, only for her to do nothing about it. i want that man like a doused, wounded dog.

My non-romantic OTP for this character: him and ayato :] little brother stand-in.

My unpopular opinion about this character: i guess... i like that he was killed by t-owl? giving him his wish of dying at houji's hand while allowing him to "get away" with all the things he did to get there would be kinda messed up.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon: I want to know about his relationships with arima and eto. who were they to him, and how did he fit into aogiri's power structure?

my OTP: sure i'll say houtata

my cross over ship: idk

a headcanon fact: he got his mouth sewn shut by eto, but she grew bored and never really finished the job. take that as you will.

----

thanks for the ask! LOL

[bellygunnr]

Tomorrow and Our Other Futures

My half of an Art Trade with the wonderful @twilighthomunculusart / @twilighthomunculus

This was a total blast to write!! Thank you!!

-----

Humidity makes the air stuffy and warm, thick to breathe, but Kai sucks it in anyway, grimacing as sweat collects against his skin, perspiring happily around folded joints and scrunched fabric. He has to swap his phone ear to ear to dry his palms, half in the mind to put Kyoichi on speaker phone just to avoid the hassle, but something stops him. Maybe it’s how public his apartment is, or how well sound carries from balcony to balcony. He doesn’t want anyone having the entire conversation, but maybe he should duck back inside anyway. It’s getting late.

“You know, me and Seiji were considering heading up to Fuji Speedway,” Kyoichi says, voice crackling slightly over the phone. “That’s near you, right?”

“Close enough,” Kai says slowly. “I haven’t-- I’ve been focusing on more local things. Haven’t hit there yet, so…”

Shuffling on the other end of the line. Something dark flits across Kai’s vision. He tracks it to the railing, where light floating up from below illuminates the shell of a beetle. Bits of wing stick out from its carapace.

“So what? You should come with us. We’ll crash at your place for the weekend, since the drive’s so long. Sound good?”

“Woah, hey. I’m cool with coming-- you know that. You sure you want to crash here, though?”

His apartment’s tiny. Barely more than a studio setup, with most fixtures a combined room except the closet and bathroom. Not to mention all the stuff he still hasn’t unpacked. Really, he’s been living out of his MR-S more than his room.

Kyoichi mumbles something unintelligible. The faint click of a lighter twinges Kai’s inner ear, followed by the snap of a zippo. Kai can see it perfectly in his mind’s eye, and, fuck.

It’s only been a couple weeks since he’s moved out. No one was particularly friendly in Tochigi, but Kanagawa is a new type of hell, trying to meet people. He’s lonely. He’d had a routine-- and now?

“Can’t be any worse than my place, Kai,” Kyoichi says.

The beetle flares its carapace, stretching out its wings. Kanagawa even has different bugs. The summer works differently. The pavement on the touge is an unfamiliar formula. Kyoichi, at least, is the same, voice tight with a perpetual edge of being irritated.

“Got that right,” Kai snorts. “Alright, okay. When should I expect you guys, huh?”

“Dunno. Guess you’ll have to call Seiji for that. It’s late here-- good night, Kai.”

The cell goes dead. Kai stares at the screen with bemusement, Kyoichi’s words echoing in his head. He’d gotten breathless and rushed, there, at the end, probably because he started having an emotion. Maybe one of them should have started an argument instead.

But he can’t deny that he feels a little better.

—

The Evo III slides up next to his MR-S like it was always meant to park there and Kai just stares at its glossy black paint, throat choked, until the doors pop open and the remnants of Team Emperor come spilling out. Kyoichi runs his hands through his hair, headwear tucked into the collar of his shirt, betraying the impact the day had on him. Opposite of him, Seiji stretches, groaning loudly as he chases off the aches of riding in a stiff sports car. 

“Well! That was fun,” Seiji says. “Oh, shit, Kyoichi, pop the trunk, will you? I just remembered–”

Kai tilts his head, watching silently. Kyoichi waves a dismissive hand and tosses his keys at Seiji, who catches them without looking halfway to the rear of the car. The parking lot lights frame them perfectly, throwing them into that stark relief so reminiscent of Iroha’s slopes. Maybe something’s wrong with him, or maybe that’s all he’s ever known, and dealing with change is– hard.

“You guys better not have gotten me anything,” Kai calls. “I didn’t get you anything!”

“Obviously,” Kyoichi says.. “And if you had, I’d hit you. Go on, we’ll catch up.”

Kyoichi has the nerve to wave Kai on. Sputtering, but compliant, Kai turns on his heel and hurries up to the upper level. At least this way, he’d have time to pick up a little…

Not that he hadn’t already! Kai had spent the better part of a week making sure his stupid flat looked presentable. Some boxes got unpacked, he scrounged up some extra bedding, and he even had food in the fridge. Drinks, too. It’d have to do.

He has enough time to shove a few things into unseen corners before there’s knocking on his door. He hurries to open it with a flourish, only to gape at the gift brandished in Kyoichi’s hand.

“You guys didn’t have to get me anything,” Kai laughs. “Is that–?”

“Sake,” Seiji sings. “And movies. And an extra futon.”

Kyoichi’s footsteps are loud and heavy as he crosses the threshold. Kai wonders if he looks this huge everywhere, or just here. Seiji takes up room, too, but he slips in far more delicately from behind and immediately sets to untying his boots, overnight bag pinned under an arm.

“The movies were Seiji’s idea,” Kyoichi says with a grunt. So we’re watching them because he’ll be sad if we don’t goes unsaid.

Kai accepts the proffered gift of sake, the shiny wrapping crinkling against his arms. He’d have to get cups, and maybe popcorn, even as he reels at the sudden turn of events. Really – this was a lot. This was downright sappy for Kyoichi, no matter how dour he looks. It’s saccharine. 

—

They never flipped on the lights. In the dark, they’d shoved everything over and made the bedding, spearheaded by Seiji’s giddiness, leaving Kai feeling– pleased but unbalanced. The sake helped settle him a little, but not even it could soften the sharp sensation of Kyoichi’s arm around his shoulders. When he steals a glance at him, all he sees is a barely-suppressed smile and a pink flush across his face.

The movie is a quiet one. Foreign, either French or American, Kai can’t tell, but it’s good. Seiji leans his full weight onto Kai throughout it, humming.

“Do… either of you… know what’s going on?” Kai manages to squeak out.

“Car race,” Seiji says, with a grim inflection. “It’s good.”

Well. Yeah. Kai snorts a laugh. He’s not wrong.

“Where did you even get this from, Seiji? What happened to Perfect Blue?”

“Oh, yeah, Perfect Blue. Great buddy film,” Kai says, giggling. He grips his sake closer to his chest. “I saw it in theatres awhile ago.”

“You were a baby awhile ago,” Kyoichi responds, flicking his shoulder. “Seriously, Seij–”

Seiji flaps a placating but dismissive hand, then throws his arm around both Kyoichi and Kai, dragging them closer. The pile of pillows and blankets they’ve wrested onto the floor with them shifts haphazardly. Music and noise blare from the television as one of the quintessential car races goes belly-up.

Kai stares as the scene is repeated from every angle. He thinks about SW20s, autumn, and dangerous hairpins. He thinks about the blind corner in the track he hit last week. It’s all part of the game, here. He needs to rotate his tires. 

A strong hand tugs his drink out from his grip. 

“Hey!” Kai says, grabbing for it.

“No,” Kyoichi grunts, and downs it. “Stop looking so maudlin. You’re giving me depression.”

“If it helps, I got the movie from Fumihiro,” Seiji says conversationally. “And you already have–”

Kai squints at the screen, theft momentarily forgotten. Who the hell was Fumihiro? Kyoichi seems to know, as he has to duck underneath his fist, striking out at Seiji with a clumsy swipe. Laughter overrides whatever the TV is doing, and Kai breaks down into giggles between them, burying his face in the blankets. 

—

Kai wakes up slowly in the morning. His neck hurts. He’s too warm. There’s something sharp jutting into his lower back. When he tries to move his arms, he finds he can only retrieve one, and opens up sticky eyes to investigate.

His apartment is a disaster, is what he registers first. Not unusual, but strange because didn’t he just clean it? And then, oh, right, Seiji and Kyoichi are here– and wow, okay.

He’s half lain out on top of Kyoichi, who folded himself into a pretzel, and Seiji is the one who has his arm trapped by reaching across the gulf to grip his team leader’s hand. Sunlight flickers in through the curtains, casting a slice of light over the three of them. Kai debates waking them up, or moving, or anything, really.

But that’d be a waste. It can’t be that late in the day. Besides, Kai can’t let them know he saw them holding hands. That’s– that’s gotta be saved. 

And he does feel better. More settled. Huh.

With that last thought, Kai tries to turn over, curling into the mess of bedding and Seiji’s side. He’s asleep within seconds.