#it didn’t feel like i was complementing the fic- it felt like i was insulting bsd-

[lamentfulwarbler]

Bingo! (Parts 6 & 7 (Full House!))

My final bingos from @feedthefandomfest ‘s original bingo card!

Links to Parts 1, 2, 3&4, and 5

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THE BINGO FICS (PART 6):

Comment that is AT LEAST Half a keysmash was linked in Parts 3&4 (1)

Free Space! was linked in Part 2 (2)

Highlight and explain 3 favourite quotes: airplane honeymoon by setosdarkness

Unhinged liveblogging reactions: One thousand first times by the_most_happy

Revisit a fic you read in the past and leave a(nother) comment: Stray Dogs Are Not Hunted. They Hunt by YunaYamiMouto

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THE BINGO FICS (PART 7 - FULL HOUSE)

Comment bargaining firstborn for more was linked in Part 1 (3)

Find a comment you agree with and reply explaining why was linked in Part 2 (4)

Comment on a fic with under 50 hits was linked in Parts 3&4 (5)

Explain why the fic is better than canon: Leo Inter Serpentis: First Year by Aeternum

Comment on EVERY chapter of a multichapter fic: O expectations, stale and dismal airs, leave this body of mine! by aptlydapper

(1) Comment that is AT LEAST half keysmash: He’s My Emotional Support Rescue Dog by avengersasssemble

(2) Free Space! - Leafing Through The Pages, I Found You by YunaYamiMouto

(3) Comment bargaining firstborn for more: Kitty Secrets by avengersasssemble

(4) Find a comment you agree with and reply explaining why: Half and Half by avengersasssemble

(5) Comment on a fic with under 50 hits: Words never to be said by GeegeeS

[deluweil]

Ok, so I finally watched the episode - (I slept in really late today, it was amazing)  and learned how to do an under the cut - because this is going to be very long - I will not start with buddie, or how sweet exhausted Madney are, or how I feel bad for Albert who has the same grievances as Buck did while recuperating, or how I was happy to see more of Mrs. Lee.

I want to start by how completely shattered I was by watching Nia leave, I literally had to pause because I was crying like a baby and couldn’t bring myself to move on and change the mood. 

I am happy that Nia’s mom is just a woman who had trouble to provide for herself and her baby, especially with the pandemic hitting around that time, and that Nia will be happy and safe with her mom, but I was absolutely heartbroken for Hen and Karen and even while I’m writing this I’m tearing up again.

I do love that while Karen managed to bring Hen around to foster kids again, I actually asked out loud “what about Denny?” - I love that they sat down with him and asked for his opinion, because this involves him too. 

Which is btw, in complete parallel to Edmundo not asking or talking to Christopher about how he feels about him dating again, or bringing her to the house to crash movie nights - because it involves him too and we get no resolution on that particular end to this day.

I have to say that the side stories, while emotional in nature - the flashbacks of complete strangers felt unnecessary - and after pretty much crying my eyes out for Nia and the Wilsons, the side stories felt like a waste of time.

Watching Athena and May finally ‘have it out’ over May’s suicide attempt from S1 was so overdue, and I’m glad we got to see it. Athena’s overreaction and May’s lack of understanding where her mom is coming from was a stepping stone for Athena to have a talk with Bobby that allows her to forgive herself if only a little and for May to show growth on two fronts - 

1. she gave a second chance to a high school bully. - High school is a breeding ground for bullies and victims, it’s only when we see the world through the eyes of an adult, especially through May’s who’s working in dispatch and having weekly therapy sessions - I love that she is being the bigger person here and allows that horrible girl - who may have changed into a better adult - another chance.

2. Working in dispatch also allows May to go back to the worst day of her mother’s life and hear just exactly what happened, and that allows a second kind of growth - she shows compassion and understanding towards Athena, she now knows what happened and how her steel made mom shattered to pieces because she thought she lost her daughter. - I love how May comes into the house and just hugs her mom and apologizes - the story was very well written.

Madney - was super adorable, my own sister recently had a second baby, brother to a 2yo toddler who’s new favorite word is ‘No’, so the exhausted parents sight was very familiar. 

I love that both of them returned to work, personally I don’t know if I would have been able to leave so quickly after giving birth (here maternity leave is 3 months most mothers extend to 6 months or even a year.) but it’s good, in my eyes, that both parents got to get back to normal life, breath some air outside crying, feeding and diaper changes.

Also important to remember - it really does take a village, and I’m glad they showed it here too. I absolutely adore Mrs. Lee, she’s a sweetheart. I found it so funny when Chimney, in his exhausted state said “strangers” and seconds later realized he insulted his adopting mother, I really laughed a lot. 

I also love that Albert moved in with the Lee’s, he will finally have a place where he will not feel guilty about lying and resting while the rest of the house members deal with a newborn baby on top of everything. I hope his return to normal will be easier than Buck’s. On the plus side he’s not working yet so no one can tell him no. ;)

Buddie had me breathing new life this episode, the “she looks like Buck when he’s gassy” (like dude why do you know that?), the “I’ll take it as a complement” retort and Eddie’s fond smile response.

Eddie looking to Buck with the saw with a confident look, to get the lady who was unfortunately pinned to the donkey off with the door. I have to point out that Eddie’s uncertain, sympathetic, I know how you feel look, when the lady talked about no matter what she does it’s wrong - giving me all the signs I need to know that things with Christopher are not ok. and exactly as the fics tell it, Chris is not happy with his dad’s life’s choices right now and it bleeds into everyday life stuff too.

The quarter life crisis- I loved that call!! - Buck says it’s a real thing from experience - God knows we all saw it (also I may have had it myself 😂) and Eddie (or was it Ryan?) laughing again with that fond look of his when it involves Buck.

And the best part  - can’t you both be good cop? - Buck and Eddie’s simultaneous “NO” was so Awesome!! I watched it again and again and again and laughed a lot. But what stood out the most it that no one retorts that Buck is not a parent, or ask how he could possibly know that, there was only slightly confused look from Chimney, who looked thoughtful 0.01s later and a Bobby knows look, Hen doesn’t even dignifies these moments with a response anymore because she definitely knows! 

Also loved Eddie flirting with Buck a moment later saying “curious to see what your definition of too much discipline is.” - Yes my loves that is very much flirting, there will be no discussion here. - I love that Buck’s response is a smile and a tilt of the head to the side, you can see Buck’s expression even under the mask.

It wasn’t a lot of buddie, but the scenes themselves were huge, in my eyes buddie is alive and well and if you can’t see it, I advise you to go to station 19, check out the brother connection between Miller and Gibson, or Strike Back’s Scott and Stonebridge, or Teen Wolf Scott and Stiles then compare it to Eddie and Buck’s, and only after you’ve done that come back and tell us we’re seeing things 🙃

I would have addressed that poor excuse for a scene (1-2 seconds was it?) between Edmundo and she who I refuse to name (rebounds are usually forgotten very quickly, I already forgot her 😈) but the only 3 things worth mentioning is that: 

1. That scene in the promo where she cuddles up to him and looks happy? They cut it in editing.

2. Christopher interrupts them, as always. She allows him to join them even though it’s a school night and she didn’t even look at Eddie before she did.

And last but not least - The amazing Christopher in being seated, By Eddie, between them. - Also he (Eddie) does not look happy about it, he’s fond with Christopher, but looks confused as hell by her allowing it without asking Eddie. 

Now Buck - Buck would have looked to Eddie, and should the answer would have been no, he would have bargained, as we know he does when he babysat last time, and Buck would have gotten Christopher back to bed. - Just saying.

Overall it was a good episode, I liked most of it, kind of reminded me of S1 energy, it felt good. (you know, except for the obvious)

[acatnamedpusheen]

Hi! Can I have mark tuan arranged marriage au? Where they hate each other at first, but then fall in love? Thanks!

Hello and thank you for requesting! I've never written or read any arranged marriage au fics, so writing this one was an awesome challenge! Hope I met your expectations ^^

Mark X Reader (arranged marriage AU)

Genre: Angst, with a tiny bit of fluff at the end

Words: 1820

When your father had announced that you'd be marrying the son of the famous Tuan family, your heart had sunk. It was inevitable that there'd be an arranged marriage in order for the two families to merge and grow their business. Part of you was still hoping that maybe until you were of age, your father would have changed his mind and you'd be free to marry someone you truly loved, but such thing never happened.

The first date was more or less torture. Both you and Mark were obviously forced into it, so you sat at the table barely even looking at each other as you waited for your food.

"I never wanted any of this, just so you know. So don't expect me to be all wifey with you." it seemed right that you explain yourself early in this 'relationship'.

"Like you haven't already made it obvious enough for a blind person to notice. I couldn't care less, it's not you who I want to marry anyway." he scoffed while leaning back on his chair.

"Glad that we got that cleared out then." you crossed your arms in front of your chest and avoided his sharp gaze, praying that the food would finally arrive so you could eat and just leave already. Although you hated him, his words gave you a strange feeling of rejection. Were you really thinking that he'd like you? The atmosphere in the fancy restaurant his father had recommended, suddenly got too dense, almost suffocating.

Averting your eyes, you tried to focus on anything but Mark in an attempt to get away from all the tension. There were many other couples that unlike you, were enjoying dinner together and it only made you feel more miserable as you watched them.

Once the plates full of food were set on the table, you focused on eating, prolonging the silence that had fallen between you both.

"When's the ceremony?" Mark asked out of the blue, before munching on a piece of steak.

"Someone's eager. I thought you didn't want to marry me, what changed?" you raised your brow as you asked this ironic question.

"Nothing changed, I just want to prepare mentally. It's already too much having to sit here with you, imagine doing that all dressed up in front of our families." he sneered at you.

"Thank you for the complement." you smiled mockingly "Anyways, I think it's sometime next week. They've been preparing for this for quite a while now, so there aren't many things left to take care of." a pessimistic tone was evident in your voice, as you kept picking at your pasta.

Indeed the wedding ceremony took place after 5 days from that dinner date and Mark was right all along: it was even worse. It was unbearable having to stand next to him until the priest had finally announced you husband and wife and then actually kiss him in front of all those people who were simply watching their business plans coming to life.

The rest of the night felt equally depressing as you had to go through dancing and cutting the cake together with Mark. You sensed how hostile he was towards you even though he was pretending, just like you, that this was a normal wedding, an act of pure love between two people.

"Don't even let the thought of you and me sleeping on the same bed cross your mind." you warned him upon entering your shared apartment in Hanam, the wedding gift of yours and his parents.

"Easy princess, I don't bite. But I do agree with us sleeping separately." he loosened his tie as he spun around to face you.

"Perfect, you can have the bed. I'm perfectly fine with this couch, it looks pretty comfortable." you patted its back cushion.

"A gentleman would never let the lady sleep on the couch, but we're past such formalities I believe." he took off his tie and toyed a little with it as he continued "I'll let that pass, though we should cut down on the insults over time, don't you think? It's going to get too toxic being around each other soon if we continue like this." so far you hadn't witnessed him being this sincere.

"You do have a point I guess." you didn't want to seem like you were accepting him all of a sudden.

"We will have to live together, but separately at the same time. Only pretending for the sake of our families when needed." he was being dead serious and surprisingly you couldn't agree more.

"And that means that we can see other people, right?" you asked expectantly while plopping down on the couch, Mark was standing on your left, both still in your wedding clothes.

"Technically yes, but practically no. One wrong move and it would be all over the papers. We wouldn't want a scandal in our lives on top of all that now, would we?" it was as if he knew that you'd ask such thing, he had the answer ready.

Without wanting to openly admit that he was right yet again, you rolled your eyes and sighed. You were in for a long ride.

And it was long, or so it seemed to you, or so it would seem to anyone who's marriage had failed. Well, yours was never successful to begin with. Being forced to live under the same roof with a person you didn't love was like being imprisoned. A dark, cold cell that existed solely for you. No one could see it, therefore no one could free you either.

That's how the honeymoon went by for the most part. Your father had arranged a two-week trip to Jeju Island, the most famous destination amongst newlyweds. You and Mark tried to avoid each other as much as possible by doing different activities, but during those few times that you happened to be together, you felt this strange flutter inside you. 'Nonsense' you'd thought at first, yet found yourself staring at Mark when he was looking elsewhere. Only then did you finally had the chance to really study him, his eyes, his sharp cheeks, his lips, god why did his lips suddenly seem so soft? And then it hit you, you had fallen for him and as much as you were surprised to have realised that, you'd be even more surprised to know that Mark was catching feelings for you too. He would often simply stare at you when you were leaning on the balcony railing to let your mind run aimlessly on the waves of the sea. Weather it was day or night, he couldn't tear his eyes away from your characteristics under the bright sunlight or the silver moonlight and he imagined himself stroking your hair that was blown by the light coast breeze.

It was impossible to stay mad at him anymore, you were only being gruff when facing him because you didn't want a sudden change in behavior to indicate how you felt. He shouldn't know that. He shouldn't know that you were ready for a new start, he shouldn't know your desire to find out about the man you're married to. Why? Because you were afraid of rejection, of humiliating yourself, over the idea that he too had changed and didn't hate you. Since Mark was on the same page, meaning he wasn't going to confess his feelings any time soon, your current state could be perfectly described as trigicomic.

But fate always has an ace up her sleeve, as some things are just bound to happen no matter how impossible that may seem.

On the last day of your honeymoon you and Mark got into a fight that had you shouting at each other.

"Y/N, I thought we'd made it clear how we're not going to be seeing other people." he came up to you, while you were reading on the bed.

"What was that for?" you shot him a questioning look.

"Y/N, I saw you the other day flirting with that guy at the beach, come on don't play dumb." he was getting annoyed yet stood still at the door frame of the bedroom. You opened your mouth to try and form an answer but he was quick to continue before you had the chance. "If you continue acting like that, next time you'll have to face your father instead of me and I'm pretty sure he won't be any lenient with you, given that his daughter will have the company and the whole merging plan at stake." why was he being so mean to you all of a sudden?

"Hey! I didn't ask to be watched or lectured by you and as much as I know I am allowed to talk to people around me. Nothing happened, we just talked and I was able to forget the misery of being stuck with you, for some time." you let your book down forcefully and walked up to him.

"Well you should try telling that to the press next time, when they will be taking pictures to expose both our families." he fired back at you.

"And why do you care so much? You were the one who said you wanted to marry someone else that night on our first date. I'm sure you're dying to have her in your arms right now" your blood was boiling and your eyes were shooting daggers.

"I should let you know that we no longer keep in touch." he seemed to barely soften.

"Go on, get back together with her. Why can't you just leave me alone?" anger was flowing through your veins.

"Because I love you damn it!" he shouted almost before you had finished your sentence, making your eyes widen in surprise.

"You what?" your voice was above a whisper now, not believing what you had heard a few seconds ago.

"I love you Y/N. I fell for you during those two weeks and I can't hate you anymore. I would really like to get to know you, but I understand if you don't feel the same way." he was a lot more calm as he locked eyes with you. Too startled to process what was happening you didn't respond immediately.

"I too have feelings for you Mark. Feelings that I can't deny or hide any longer. I want us to make a new start." you told him with all the sincerity you had in you.

Then, as if being pulled closer by some invisible force, you both leaned in hesitantly until your lips touched. It was soft at first but quickly got heated as Mark held the side of your jaw and your hands found their place on his neck.

This kiss carried all the pent up tension, all the longing. It was your first kiss after the one you were forced to share at the altar, it was your first true kiss.

[demwhore]

Maniac (Mark Lee.)

pairing | Mark Lee x Female Reader | greaser! mark | soc! reader  description: After a sudden drink at the West side with your soc friends, alcohol kicked in your senses; showed up at your ex boyfriend’s home, alone, carrying a shovel and a rose. words | 4k genre | young adult fiction, smut warnings | language, drinking, scenes of making-out, violence. this is a problematic fic because it is based on the novel “The Outsiders” a/n | I do not condone the actions depicted in this fic. This is written for fictional purposes only. I dedicate this to @xuxi-rolls [i love u, thank u] to @hyuck-me​ [hi min thank you!] and @bumblebeenct​ [thank you for proofreading the trash ver.] this was rushed. i apologize.  taglist | @renjunlite @mjlkau @xyyydream @jungcity​  ps | my muse for this is maniac by conan grey

🔙 main masterlist

There are always two sides of everything. Two sides to every coin. For example, in a neighborhood; there is an east side and a west side. There is a fine line between the two, and that is exactly the world you live in. You are a Soc (pronounced as Soches, or short for Socials), as fancy as it is, that is what they call it. This meant that you lived on the west side of the neighborhood; together with other wealthy Socs. Mainly the jocks, cheerleaders, or snobs. The Socs despised the Greasers, so much— to the point, after seeing one, they would either end up slashing out each other’s throats with their fancy switchblades or to get into an old-fashioned fist-fight.  

Greasers. One world but it possesses a lot of definitions. Quite notorious. They were known to be problematic, criminals, a bunch of chaotic guys who always flunk their classes just to smoke and drink, hair literally drenched in grease with leather jackets and ripped jeans. A typical James Dean. They are situated on the East side of the neighborhood. Considered poor, not low-class but, poor, poorer than any Socs, poorer than any of the people alive. They merely survive by committing crimes, or when they are lucky enough— jobs at gasoline stations. 

Greasers. People who have trouble chasing after their tails, and adding to the list, they really have a distinct vocabulary. Which always surprises you. “What’ya try’na do Soc?”

Greasers were known for their bad reputation but even so, you ended up falling in love with one. His name was Mark Lee. It all started when you were about to head home from a night out at the drive-in theater, when Jacob, a Soc that also went to your school, ended up harassing you to be his girl. Wanting to butter your ‘muffins’ since they weren’t buttered at all. You didn’t know what he was trying to imply, but it didn’t seem right and appeared insulting on your part. Mark’s gang happened to cross the path you were taking, and heard your distressed yells of ‘stay away from me’ that Jacob did not seem to understand. The first meeting with Mark wasn’t that extravagant like how prince Philip met Aurora in the forest, it was rather dark; full of sweat, blood, and switchblades. You heard the yells of Mark’s gang telling him to stay the hell out of the Soc’s business but he could see that Jacob just wouldn’t stop and you were on the verge of tears. Mark knew what to do. He had Jacob down in a second. Jacob tried to fight to get loose; he even did for a few seconds before Mark tightened his hold. Jacob laid still, swearing at the greasers between gasps. Then, things turned bad, when Jacob stabbed Mark’s shin with his switchblade. In the end however, it was Jacob who went home ruined and blue. 

“Are you all right, uhm, Socs?” Soc. 

You nodded. “Yes. Thank you.”

He rubbed your hair, “You’re an okay kid, Soc. Always have someone, some, er--soc join you on yer’ way home.”

Then he left with his greaser friends. Mark was handsome. You hated to admit, but he was. He was the same type of handsome as a young Johnny Depp, if more, he was gorgeous. His hair was jet black, with the signature grease lingering within. He wore his worn-out denim jeans with a leather jacket that complemented his white shirt underneath. You couldn't see his face clearly, but it was full of cuts and bruises. Yes, they were the guys your parents warned you about. Cigarettes and switchblades. 

Yet you couldn’t stop thinking about the greaser. You absentmindedly poured toothpaste on your hand instead of your toothbrush; mind too occupied by the young boy you met. You had mentally slapped yourself for being so timid, you could’ve done something nice to treat him for saving you from Jacob, or at least ask for his name. It made you insane, head empty except for thoughts of the greaser. You felt hopeless but fate had other plans, since you both crossed paths, again. This time in a local diner, specifically by the concession stand. You insisted on paying for his strawberry shake and from that interaction, the greaser boy stole your heart. You exchanged smiles and names. You felt conscious under his gaze, intimidated even, but Mark proved that their tough appearance was just a façade. Behind the rugged persona hides a boy; who is carefree, a greaser boy that loved you more than his switchblade and comb.

The months you had together were paradise. He never forced you to embrace the greaser culture, and he’d let you do your thing. You were still the awkward Soc girl who wears beige cardigans over a fitted dress shirt and plaid skirt. Eloquent. Articulated. But ever since you’d started hanging out more on the east side, the soc in you started to fade and Mark didn’t know if he should be boasting with pride or afraid. You learn to spat at people, (which made your mother mortified as to where the hell did you would’ve learnt that? You just answered her with a meek smile) both literally and figuratively, the latter one because you’d seen Mark spit as a smoker and the aftermath is an itchy throat. You were staying up late and the alibi you’d use was studying at Amber’s house. The truth is, you were with Mark and his friends at the drive-in theater, making out till the guards kicked you out. 

The memory wasn’t vague. But the movie flashed by the theater’s projector was ‘Rebel without a case’ starring James Dean. It was a good movie, indeed, but you are busy with Mark’s lip at the time. He was more entertaining than the movie you had paid to see. Straddling his lap you found your hands detangling his heavily styled hair. You felt his hands cupping your ass as your lips practically crashed into each other. Teeth to teeth, tongue interlacing. You were timid, but with Mark, it suddenly went away. 

Pulling away momentarily you asked “Are you gonna wham, bam, thank you sweetie, me?”

His brows furrowed as his hot breath fanned your face, “What?”

You grinned, “Nothing.”

Mark rolled his eyes, his hands leaving your body as he struggled to remove something from the car’s cabin. He handed you a rose, and you found the ends of your lips twitching. You took the rose from him and shifted your attention to him. His lips were slightly parted, lips red, hickeys all over his neck. Mark was a guy full of troubles yet he was so charming. There was just something in him that made you feel enchanted, maybe it was his candidness. He doesn’t deny that he isn’t the right guy for you but he is willing to change his bullshit, just for you. The gesture made your heart turn somersaults. 

“Where did you get this from?”

“Well, I’m a penny short and I oughta buy you chocolates but I’ll be late for our date. Stolen these when old man Ricky wasn’t looking.” He admitted with a frown. Your brows arched up, you weren’t expecting a blunt answer yet there he is. He looked adorable with his eyes practically apologizing for his wrong-doings. A surprised laugh came out of your lips. The laughter from you urged him to continue on talking. 

“I might not be rich as the socs in your place but you have my heart and dick.”

You chortled at his statement, “Is that the answer to my statement a while ago?”

“What? The wham, bam?”

“Yeah.”

“Yea, It’ll be cool to play here with peewee.” Mark named his car “Peewee’, a 1950s Chevrolet, 4 door bel air. His lips met yours again, but this time he exerted dominance, cupping the back of your head to pull you closer to him. His other thumb stroked your thighs lightly. Mark’s kiss was deep and passionate. The world around you seems to crumble as you are too absorbed with his existence. He nibbled onto your lip, before brushing over the spot with his sinful tongue. The kiss grew urgent, his hands gripping your waist tightly carefully grinding your figure onto his lap. It made him hard and you were already soaking in arousal. He groped your ass making you yelp. You wanted this. To drown in Mark’s kisses. Mark repositioned his seat to make more room for you before he connected his lips again with yours. His touch was innocent, feathery, slightly climbing its way to your dress to touch your inner thighs.

You felt goosebumps all over your skin. His intimate touches, turned your whimpers into quiet moans against his lips, which in turn, made Mark bring one of his slim fingers to your mouth, silencing you. 

“You oughta keep your voice down, baby.” He mumbled on your lip. The end of his pink lips tugging a smirk. Despite his warning, you kept going, this time trying to hold into  sanity, as the feeling of Mark’s erection sent chills to your spine. You shivered when Mark’s finger wandered to the inner part of your thigh. You immediately pushed your legs apart, allowing his fingers to cup the apex of your thighs, pressing a digit onto your soaked pussy. He played with the elastic band of your panties, then carefully touched your slit. You clit throbbing and eager for his touch.

“You’re soaking wet, damn, all for me?” He cooed. His voice low, lips tickling your ear, “Does it feel good? You wanted to be touched like this?”

“Y-yes, please k-keep going.” You whined, while frantically searching for something to grasp. You arched your hips to get more access to his torturing touches. 

He gave you a sly smirk, “I will, because you asked so sweetly, baby.” He placed a chaste kiss on your lips. Then, he immediately slid in his index finger into your entrance. A sigh left your mouth as you felt your walls stretch; something you’ve never felt before. “Do you feel uncomfortable?”

If a word could explain what you were feeling at the moment, uncomfortable isn’t the correct word to describe it; rather, euphoric. Mark, at this point, had fully inserted his finger to the knuckles. “No, n-no, keep going, p-please.” You whispered as you took a hold of Mark’s shoulders and gripped them for dear life; knuckles turning white. You choked out when you felt his fingers found a spot inside you. Bingo. Mark chuckled quietly, running his tongue over his lips, the sight before him was divine. You, squirming under his touch while he played with your cunt. He prodded the same exact spot again, this time you had to bury your head onto his shoulders to keep yourself quiet.

“Jackpot, baby.”

“A-ah it f-feels good!” 

You squeezed your eyes shut letting the waves of pleasure soak you. You arched your hips to meet his fingers. Letting yourself feel. After one digit, Mark carefully inserted his middle finger, just beside his index. You gasped, it was an unknown feeling; your body twitched momentarily from the sudden sting. Mark met your neglected clit and rubbed it; the sting fading out. You gritted your teeth, ragged breaths leaving your mouth. You felt the arousal building inside you; ready to leave your body. If it wasn’t for Mark’s lips, silencing you, the whole theater would know what you two were doing. He planted a kiss to your cheeks, “You cumming, baby?”

The movie was still rolling, but to you it was just pure noise. You are too engrossed, head clouded, muddled with pleasure. Jim Stark said his great lines, ‘If I had one day when I didn't have to be all confused and I didn't have to feel that I was ashamed of everything’. Mark played with your clit again, his digits busy poking your g-spot, you knew, you were on the edge of coming. Mark pressed your body into his and you trembled against his lap. Your walls tightened against Mark’s fingers. With one last rub, your arousal came, he pulled his fingers away from you. Your panties, now soaking wet. You made a mental note to throw those out to the washer as soon as you go home. Your body collapsed against Mark’s chest. He raised his fingers; wet and glistening with your juice. You felt your cheeks flare when you saw how he popped his fingers onto his mouth, leaving a satisfying groan at the taste of you. You covered your face in embarrassment and felt Mark’s chest vibrate with laughter. “I love you, baby.”

“I love you more.”

 It was fun while it lasted. A typical bad boy and good girl, two teenagers in love. The relationship was almost as perfect for you. You never had arguments with him, because he was so chill about everything you do. Yet then, in the blink of an eye, the relationship turned into a complete fiasco. 

Maybe you were too confident that people wouldn’t stick their noses in other people’s business, but they proved you wrong. You were oblivious to the fact that everyone’s eyes were set upon you. Eventually a rumour circulated around the school you and Mark were attending.

“Did you hear about Y/N, girls?”

It piqued your ears. You stopped your tracks to hear the answer, “Her and Mark, that greaser boy, oh God, he’s crazy and drives her mad!”

You were stunned at the outburst. The only person who knows about your relationship was Amber, other than that, your mouth was completely sealed. You opened your locker and grabbed your books. Just as you slammed the door shut, you came face to face with Avril, the school’s queen bee and apparently, Jacob’s new toy. She gave you a sly smirk. 

“I never knew you’d be the type to date a greaser. That’s just out of your boundaries, eh?”

You raised your brow, completely facing her, “How did you know about that?”

Her smirk widens, showing sets of teeth with a slight smudge of her violet lipstick, “Good ol’ boy Jacob saw you two at the local drive-in. Next day, he had the rumors circulating like shit.”

You folded your arms to your chest, “Listen, what you’ve heard are all just rumours.”

“Oh yeah? Your brother’s gang happened to be with Jacob that time.”

You felt the blood drain from your face. It was now painfully clear; the night you came home, your brother, Jaehyun, wasn’t already home. When he returned, two hours later, he was panting heavily, cuts all over his face, and he was carrying his favorite baseball bat drenched with mud and a liquid colored crimson; blood. You seized her collar and the people around you gasped at your sudden movements. You hissed while she struggled to remove your grip, “Where the hell is Jacob?”

Avril sniggered, “And why should I tell you? So you can save your wimpy little greaser boyfriend? Well news flash he’s a maniac!”

You held her collar more tightly, holding the fabric close to her neck. Avril gasped for air, her arms flailing. She gave in and choked out, “Locker room.” You pushed her away and her body flung against the lockers. The other students jumped away in fear. You glanced over your shoulder, “He isn’t a maniac Avril. He is more of a gentleman than your misogynistic boyfriend will ever be,”. You trailed away, planning on beating Jacob up with one of  your thick algebra books. You could still recall the moves Jaehyun had taught you. Aim at the jaw, because that is the human’s shut off button, and that is what you intend to do. 

It didn’t take you long to find Jacob. After a series of turns, you arrived at the boy’s locker room. As you entered, there were few catcalls heard, but you chose to ignore— hey ya, sexy, as it was pointless— boys with their foul words because they never think with their minds. Jacob stood out among the other lads in the room. He was tall, had blonde hair, icy-blue eyes, a jock, and while it was hard to admit, he was really handsome. But he wasn't the right guy, and you were sure, as he never met your standards. His icy blue eyes widened at the sight of your marching figure, the ends of his lips tugging upward. Feeling triumphant as if he’d won his recent football match.

“Do you wish to continue our little rendezvous?” He gave you a lazy grin. You stopped your tracks and tilted your head a little bit higher to match his gaze. If books could give an exact definition of Jacob, he could be compared with Ares, the god of war; As Homer called him, murderous, bloodstained, the incarnate curse of mortals. But strangely, a coward, too, who bellows with pain and runs away when he is wounded. Jacob only knew how to fight, it's a giveaway, with his nice fit and physique. But he plays dirty and hides underneath a girl’s skirt when he knows he fucked up. He is too much of a coward, never using his brain, rather letting his dick think for him. Him and Mark have a gargantuan difference, and for that, loving Mark, was the biggest choice you have never chosen to regret. 

“What is this all about Jacob?”

He ran a finger through his slightly damp, golden locks. His brows shot upward, his lip jutting out, as if proving to you, what he did was something you should never be mad about. He shrugged, “I just made a psa.” He leaned down to match your height, “Soc girls ain’t for greasers. I was simply just saving you.”

“You aren’t my dad so you don’t go dictating me what to do and what not to do!”

He raised his left brow, “Hell yeah? I cannot accept the fact you chose him over me, Y/N! Are you fucking insane?”

“No. But I am capable of choosing the people who are best for me.” 

“Betcha brother didn’t take the news nicely.” 

You gave him a glare and jammed the algebra book to his face. The reason why Jacob spread those malicious rumors about Mark is because he couldn’t accept the fact that you have chosen grease over money. He had an ego to protect and so, he went lashing out, ruining someone else’s image. You stormed out of the locker room to search for your brother. He must’ve gone mad at this point. The thought gave you chills, Jaehyun beating Mark to death. You could recall how he wore his adorning rings earlier in the morning before you both left the house. Those rings had helped Jaehyun beat someone into pulp, almost killing his foe with it. Bullshit. You had algebra at eight, but you have chosen to flunk it. Worried to death, all you could think of was mark.

Jaehyun seized Mark’s now bloodsoaked white t-shirt. Jaehyun felt extreme frustration, he couldn’t control the shaking of his fists as well as the baring of his teeth. Jaehyun made a beeline for Mark’s jaw, and not content with the results; he made another uppercut, straight into the greaser’s gut. Johnny released his hold on Mark’s shirt. At that moment, Mark couldn’t think straight; it was as if his mind had been a finished puzzle and Jaehyun’s assault had it jumbled to pieces. The greaser clenched his stomach; his head was throbbing like hell. He could almost taste the bitter, salty taste of bile. Fucking hell. Jaehyun surely shook the greaser’s system, like literally. 

Jaehyun held his wrist and twirled it. He ignored the stinging sensation on his cheek. That wasn’t one of his concerns. His cheeks could wait but his fist couldn't. What Jaehyun hated and was concerned about the most was having a greaser fuck with his sister. It was just an overall no for him. Also, the fact that Jacob blurted out the news while he was in the midst of a football game just made him more of a misanthropic jock wanting to choke the hell out the guy who played with his sister. 

Jaehyun breathed. “Stay the hell out of my sister’s life, greaser.”

Mark spat out blood. His voice was hoarse. “Why should I do that?”

“Because I said so.”

“Hell no, soc. I ain’t doing what’cha want, just because y’all want me to.” 

Jaehyun’s patience was paper thin and the fact that his day wasn’t getting any better was wearing him down. “You’re testing my patience, huh greaser?”

Jaehyun nodded towards Johnny and the center gripped both of Mark’s shoulders. Mark gulped hard, trying to wiggle his way out of Johnny’s grip, but the guy was just big, he stood no chance. 

Jaehyun gritted his teeth. Mark’s eyes trailed down the shiny metal Jaehyun was holding, a switchblade. Jaehyun twisted the blade elegantly in his hands. Mark never felt fear in his life, it was the emotion he had long forgotten. But he stood there, defenseless, with the socs dominating him, all he could do was to wait for his fate, or his death. “Stay the fuck out of my sister’s life, greaser.”

A girl's voice shook the three. “Jaehyun! Stop!”

You stood there disheveled, as if you had just run a few kilometers. Your blouse is crumpled, the first buttons were well, unbuttoned. Your chest rises with every exhale you make. Your eyes trailed at Mark then towards your brother. “Jaehyun, stop.”

Jaehyun glared at you. He never looked at you like that, ever. 

His tone was strict. “Go back to your classes.”

“Jaehyun, I-”

“I said. Go. back. To. your. Classes.” 

You stood there dumbfounded, staring back at your fuming brother. Then, he yelled at you, snapping you out from your daze.

You fucked up.

Years. You are not allowed to go out alone anymore. The last contact you had with Mark was the time, he and Jaehyun were ‘talking’. No proper goodbyes, no proper closure. You had blamed Jacob for all of that. You were beyond frustrated, you missed the boy who made you feel like a human, alive, loved. But, now he only exists in your memories. Markie and his goofish car, peewee. 

Present time. 

“Hey Y/N!”

You squinted. Madonna’s songs played loudly in the local diner. Your vision blurred while trying to find the familiar figure of Amber. 

“Hey Y/N!”

“Whaaaaat?!”

You leaned on the diner’s counter. The alcohol had taken a toll on you and all you wanted to do was to dance the night away with Material Girl playing loudly in the background. You pumped your fist in the air, head bobbing up and down, you started to dance carelessly towards the dance floor. Having to drink alcohol had your appendages work on their own. You leaned too far and had your body bumping on someone else’s.

You slurred. “Sorrrry.”

Amber cursed under her breath. “This girl is unbelievable.”

You continued on, singing on the top of your lungs, “I’m a material giiiiirl!”

Amber mustered her strength to grab you out of the dance floor, and to avoid you practically flailing your body towards the other college party-goers. 

I made it through the wilderness. Somehow I made it through..

You shoved your body through the crowd to sluggishly approach your car. Head empty, intoxicated with alcohol and all you can think of was Mark. 

You pulled over the familiar neighborhood. The darkest pits of the society. You eyed the shovel in your trunk and the rose, a random guy handed to you earlier. You approached the door and pounded harshly on the door.

The door opened with a loud hiss. And the guy you’ve been yearning for, stood before you. He eyes the rose and the shovel in your hands. A slow smirk painted his lips. 

“What’ya doin’ here?”

“Mark.”

“I’m done with you. Cause people like you always want back what they can't have. But I'm past that and you know that. So you should turn back to your rat pack, tell 'em trash.”

[ferretbitexo-fic-den]

hi your recent moceit fic crushed my soul, (but it was so well done, you’re rly talented holy heck) so can i request some soft moxiety/moceit/logicality perhaps? happy ending? 🥺👉🏻👈🏻

*plays eenie meanie on the ships* *gets Logicality* GLASSES GAYS IT IS

By the way, thank you so much! And sorry it took so long.

let it rush to my head (Logicality)

Synopsis: Logan doesn't have feelings, but he can deal with Patton's

Warnings: Swearing, one joke from Remus, heartbreak mention, anxiety attack mention, hurt/comfort.

Logan didn’t have feelings. That much was clear, albeit rather doubted by everyone in the headspace. His function as a side was literally opposed by such concepts.

So it was quite peculiar that he was so well-equipped to deal with an overwhelming amount of something he didn’t have.

Granted, of course, they weren’t his own. Now that would be absurd.

But somehow, when a certain heart gets overwhelmed by his own function, Logan knows just how to move.

…

The first time Thomas had to say goodbye, Heart was fragile. He had gotten quite close with the boy, and the thought of never seeing him again still gave Heart a full-body ache.

“Shhh, you will be okay. Thomas will be okay.” Brain promised, rubbing Heart's back as they he was enveloped in his arms.

“It hurts! I want to see him again! I don’t want to be forgotten!” Heart cried cuddling closer to the other child.

“He won’t forget us. He promised, remember?” Brain whispered over and over and over again. “He'll never forget us, Heart.”

Young Brain wondered why his chest felt heavy and his stomach was getting squished from the inside every time Heart cries became louder.

…

Thomas’s first day of highschool left sweet Morality in a bad kind of frenzy. Poor Fear had morphed into Anxiety after the bad experiences of middle school, and Morality was indeed no better.

“Is it bad that I wanna cry right here, right now?” Morality asked when Logic came to check on him only to find him sunken in 73 plushtoys in his bed.

“I assume you’re experiencing the same prognostic emotions as Paranoia?” Logic sat beside the pile.

“I’ll pretend I know what that means,” Morality grumbled, “because I’m stupid.”

Logic sighed and decided to find Patton's head. He gently ran his finger's through the sulking one’s fluffy locks. “You know you’re not.”

Morality sat up and looked at him as though he kicked a puppy. “Deceit?” He said, squinting.

Logic chuckled. “No, I mean it. If he were here, though, he'd call you stupid.”

Morality looked at him with a hurt expression until he suddenly gleamed with a realization. “Ah.”

Logic tilted his head with a smile. “You know Thomas will be okay, right?”

“I hope so…” Morality said, wrapping his arms around Logic who indulged in the gesture.

He wondered where that warmth was coming from.

…

Thomas's first heartbreak was something Logan had anticipated for a while, but dear oh dear did he wish he was wrong.

There he was, in front of the cyan door, ice cream and oreos in hand. He knocked on the door, not excepting an answer. “Patton, may I come in?” He asked.

He heard a distorted hum from the inside and didn’t hesitate to come in. “I won’t bother asking how you are, Patton. You look awful.”

That was a lie, of course. Patton could never look bad, even if he tried. Rather, he looked exhausted, broken. And Goodness, Logan could not handle it whatsoever.

He pushed the unwelcomed lump in his throat down to sit next to Patton who gathered enough clarity to look at the emotionally constipated nerd.

“I'm so, so sorry, Logan. I- God, this, I- this is my fault, Logan, I'm sorry I pushed us!” He cried, instantly clinging to Logan for comfort.

As if by instinct, Logan wrapped his arm around the soft, hurting side. “It's not your fault, Patton. He figuratively played with you.”

Logan knew he wasn’t of that much help at this moment, so he did what he knew how to do; hold Patton and tell him the truth he needed.

Of course, by now, he was still in denial of the chest pain he was feeling.

…

Through all the happiness and sorrows Logan had watched Patton go through, there was always something that baffled the mind.

It seemed like he would throw down his own function for the sake of the other without hesitation, and such occurrences were not uncommon that in would only seem strange to him after he had already helped Patton.

Of course, this was what caused him to realize that, maybe, just maybe, he did have emotions.

And it didn’t really come to him until he had inquired the others about it.

“You like him, you stupid genius.” (Logan was baffled with the emo’s ability to both insult and complement).

“Sounds like a serious infatuation, Microspecs.” (Roman was probably hyping up his own function).

“You wanna suck his dick emotionally, Dork!” (Why did he come to Remus?).

“Oh please, tell me you're not joking! You are obviously in love with him!” (Why was Janus fuming?).

…

“You… Love me too?” Patton asked to the finally fed up logical side.

Logan was red and stuttering and dysfunctional and there was literally nothing holding him back from crashing his lips on the equally flushed Patton's in the kitchen.

The two broke apart when Patton couldn’t stop giggling.

A unanimous “FUCKING FINALLY!” was the response they got during their dinner announcement.

TAGLIST❤

@shadowjag , @wigsnatchedhoteltrivago , @arsonenthusiast , @i-love-my-dark-strange-sons @phantom-moonfire , @lostonehero , @awkward-child-of-satan , @deetheimposter , @ashtonbby2 , @lokiamorstuffs , @janus-the-sassy-snek-boi , @eeveeeclair246 @enragedbees , @franthehorsegir

[rainbowwing251]

Curiosity Tickled the Cat (Super Smash Bros. Tickle Fic)

A/N: I know I might be called “cringy” for doing this, but I’m doing it. I’m posting a fic a Lee!Shulk, but with a twist.

In this fic, Shulk is going to be part cat. In my headcanons, this means that he will be a normal person (or rather Hom), but he’ll have cat ears and a cat tail, and will exhibit some cat-like behavior. Other than that, he isn’t any different from his normal self.

You likely know the drill about romance and NSFW, so I’m not going to include those messages here.

Finally, I should let all of you know ahead of time that this is my first attempt at writing a fic like this (not a tickle fic, but a fic with a character that is part cat). I’m likely going to make some mistakes in my portrayal of cat Shulk, so I hope you can forgive me for that.

Well, here goes nothing… let's begin.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Neither Cloud nor Shulk had any idea as to how they got into this situation.

For some reason that was never explained by Master Hand or Crazy Hand, the latter of the two hands decided to use his infinite power to transform some of the fighters into animal/Pokemon hybrids (only Red and Leaf got the latter). Cloud didn’t know who got turned into what hybrid other than Shulk, and to be honest, he’d rather not know.

Shulk was unfortunate enough to get caught up in the mess, and he was turned into a cat hybrid. As soon as he saw his tail and ears, he ran from the crowd that was in the middle of the Smash Colosseum, fearful of the humiliation that would've followed had anyone seen him. He ran into his room to hide, and not even two minutes later, he heard a knock on his door. Trembling as he opened the door, he found his “brother” on the other side of the door. The two of them stood in shock for thirty seconds before Cloud broke the silence.

“Shulk? What the hell happened to you?”

Shulk nearly ran out of the room in shame, but he knew that the merc wouldn’t insult or judge him for something that he didn’t have a say in, so he explained what happened.

“I see… Did Crazy Hand tell any of you guys why?”

“Nope. He didn’t even try to explain anything to us.”

“What about Master Hand?”

“He couldn’t even begin to explain Crazy Hand’s actions.”

“Hm… Well, this is an awkward situation…”

“I know…”

The older blonde noticed the apologetic look in the younger’s eyes.

“You alright?”

“Not really… I’m-“

“You don’t have to apologize.”

Shulk’s eyes widened slightly in surprise. Was he really that easy to read?

“But I- I just- I know that you don’t like cats, so-“

“I never said that I disliked cats.”

“But you never said that you liked them, either…”

“True.” Cloud admitted, “I’m kind of… neutral towards them, to be honest.”

Shulk’s cat ears twitched in curiosity, causing him to blush as he asked his next question, “So you don’t like them… but you don’t hate them, either, right?”

“Yes.”

“Oh…” Shulk pondered Cloud’s answer for a bit, then felt his ears and tail droop as a sudden feeling of sadness came over him, “…does that mean that you’re indifferent towards me at the moment?”

“No. I’m just saying that I don’t care if you’re part cat or not, it’s not going to change my view on you.”

“O-oh!” He knew that statement was coming, but nonetheless, he still couldn’t help but blush again. The blush darkened as he felt his ears and tail shoot straight up.

Cloud couldn’t help but laugh a little when he saw that, realizing that he was enjoying this more than he initially thought he did.

“You’re rather expressive as a cat, huh?”

“No, I’m not!” Shulk felt his ears twitch a little, and his blush grew even darker as a result.

“You definitely are.” The older male took a few steps towards him before he spoke again. “Hm… how would you react if I did this?” He reached his hands out and scratched behind the heir’s cat ears.

“Wh-wait, what are y-you-“ The younger male was cut off by his sudden urge to purr, and he tried his best to fight it. Unsurprisingly, he failed, letting out a quiet, happy-sounding “mrrrrr”.

“So you can purr...” Cloud observed, concealing the fact that the purrs were melting his heart, “Now what would happen if I scratched behind your actual ears?”

He slowly moved his hands down to the back of Shulk’s Hom ears, which resulted in a shudder.

“You alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, that just… felt good, I guess?”

“I’m not surprised.” Cloud began to scratch behind his “brother’s” normal ears. “You like it when someone massages your scalp or neck.” He was about to follow up with a complement, but a light snicker tumbled out in between Shulk’s purrs.

“Oh? Is the cat a bit ticklish~?” The merc allowed himself to slip into his tickle monster persona, chuckling at the fear that flashed in the eyes of his soon-to-be victim.

“No! No, I-I’m not! Can you even tickle a c-cat?”

“You sure can, but they can’t laugh. However…” Cloud wore a sinister grin as he pushed Shulk onto the bed behind them and pinned him down by his wrists. “That only applies to normal cats, not cat-Hom hybrids. How unfortunate for you~!”

“Nonononono! Brother, don’t!”

“But I want to know if you’re a ticklish little kitten!” Cloud nearly let out an uncharacteristic whine as he teased the younger blonde.

“I’m not a kitten, and I’m not ticklish as a cat hybrid!”

“Is that so? Very well then, I guess you wouldn’t mind if I did… this!” The older blonde scratched at Shulk’s cat ears again, but this time, it was far less relaxing and far more tickly. The noise that came out of the poor hybrid was a mix between a purr and a giggle.

“Mrrrrhehehehehehe, no! Nohohohohohohoho! Clohohohohohohohohould!” “Huh, would you look at that!” Cloud leaned in a bit before he delivered his next tease, “Someone lied to me~”

“Ihihihihihihihihihi- Ihihihihihihihihihi’m sohohohohohohohohorry!”

Cloud’s grin grew at the apology. “Apology not accepted~ You know you shouldn’t have lied to me, and yet you did it anyway.” He sped up the tickling a bit as soon as his hands landed on his sides, clearly trying to use those tickles as a threat. “Am I going to have to punish you for lying~?”

Shulk let out a series of mewls that mixed in with his giggles, “Wahahah-wahahahahahait, thihihihihis ihihihisn’t thehehehe punihihihistmehehehnt?”

“No, but if you want, I can punish you right now. Is that what you want~?”

“Nahahahahahahahahawo!” Shulk’s protest came out as a mix of a whine, a meow, and a laugh. He started kicking when Cloud’s fingers moved a little too close to his stomach.

“Hey, hey! What are you doing?!” Cloud slowed his tickling down to a stop and returned to his normal personality, confused as to why Shulk’s reaction was so violent. Sure, he tried to kick his way out of the merc’s tickly hands on multiple occasions, but right now? It seemed as though something was different. Very different.

“Is he somehow more ticklish than before?” Cloud found it hard to believe. Shulk was already ticklish enough to the point where he would start squirming and giggling as soon as someone got their hands on him. They didn’t even have to tickle him if they wanted to. They could just leave their hand there!

Cloud loved to take advantage of this, and would often place his hand on Shulk’s stomach just so he could hear him laugh.

“Wait, his stomach… That could answer my question… or rather, two questions.”

“B-brohohotheher?” Despite the fact that Cloud had stopped tickling him, the scientist had a few giggles left in his system.

The merc didn’t say anything and instead glanced down at Shulk’s belly.

“Whahahat are you looking at?”

Shulk followed Cloud’s eyes, and all of the giggling ceased.

“Wait, Cloud, don’t!”

“Hm? I’m not doing anything, am I?” Cloud briefly looked up at Shulk’s face before his vision went back down to the younger man’s stomach.

“K-kind of! Why are you l-looking at my stomach like that?”

Cloud felt a tinge of embarrassment and tore his eyes away from the Hom’s weak spot, “I want to ask you something.”

“Y-yes?” Shulk did not like where this was going, but decided to hear his “brother” out anyway.

“Someone in my homeworld told me that cats dislike belly rubs, but they never told me why. I think this might be my chance to find the reason.”

Shulk’s typical whimper was replaced with a pitiful-sounding meow, which only riled him up more. “B-brother, please don’t…”

“Hey, try to relax, okay? It may not apply to you, but neither of us will know the answer until we test it. Wouldn’t you do the same if I was a cat hybrid?”

The heir tried to respond, but his words got stuck in his throat.

“I’ll be gentle, I promise. If you get overwhelmed, tell me to stop, okay?”

“O-okay…” Even with the promise of mercy, Shulk still felt nervous. And he had every right to be, because as soon as Cloud’s hands made contact with his belly, he broke down in laughter and started kicking again.

“NOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO! IHIHIHIHI CAHAHAHAHAHAHN’T TAHAHAHAHAHAHKE IHIHIHIHIHIT!”

“But I haven’t done anything yet!” Amidst the loud laughter that poured out of Shulk, Cloud told himself, “I think I found the answer to my questions”, as the younger male’s laughter got louder and louder.

But he still had to prove to himself that his hypothesis was correct, as Shulk would say, so he wiggled his fingers on the skin above Shulk’s navel. The action produced a small shrill that made Cloud recoil in surprise.

“Shit, did I hurt you?!”

“Sohohohorry, I-I couldn’t help it! It t-tihihihickled so bad!”

Cloud nodded in understanding, “Ah, I see… So I was right…”

A faint glimmer of innocence shone in Shulk’s eyes as he calmed down and tilted his head in curiosity. “Right? Right about what?”

Seeing the glimmer in his “brother’s” eyes made Cloud’s brain malfunction for a split second, but luckily, he was able to regain his composure before the heir noticed.

“I’ll explain later. For now…” Cloud allowed his voice go lower as he slowly transitioned back into his role as the ler, “I think a certain kitty is looking for belly rubs~”

The younger male accidentally let out a meow that sounded a bit too excited for his liking, and he hit Cloud’s arm with his tail repeatedly when his “brother’s” hands touched his tummy.

“What’s the matter? Why are you hitting me with your tail, hm~?”

Shulk’s answer came out in between giggles, “I’m sohohohohorry! Ihihihihihihi can’t hehehehehehelp it!”

Cloud put on a sinister smile, “I know, you’re just nervous.” He laughed at the blush that formed on Shulk’s face before he continued, “Either that, or you are showing affection. I’m not sure which assumption is the right one, but I’m thinking that it might be a combination of both~”

“Hohohohohohohow w-would yohohoho know thahahahat?”

Shit, he had said too much. Cloud avoided the question by gently rubbing Shulk’s stomach with one hand and lightly scratching at the sensitive skin with the other. The poor Hom fell into hysterics almost instantly, letting out a loud screech before he burst into laughter.

“NAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH! WHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIY DOHOHOHOHOHOES THAHAHAHAHT TIHIHIHIHIHICKLEHEHEHEHEHE SOHOHOHO MUHUHUHUCH?!”

“Because you’re such a ticklish kitten~!” Cloud changed tactics as he used both hands to scratch at Shulk’s belly, “I hope you can handle this for a bit longer, because there’s something that I want to test out real quick.”

Almost as soon as his second hand started scratching, both of them were being pulled away, and just as he expected, Shulk put his arms up in the air.

Cloud fell into a laughing fit of his own as he replayed the short scene in his mind, “Yehehehehp, you’re ahahahaha cat hybrid alrihihihihihihight!”.

“Hohohohohohohohohohohohohow?” The younger boy asked, still feeling the tingles that radiated through his core.

Cloud struggled to maintain composure as he spoke, “You put your arms up lihihike a kitten when I pulled my hands away!”

Before Shulk could respond to that, Cloud resumed his attack on his stomach. “AHAHAHAHAHAHAH NOHOHOHOHOHO! NOHOHOHOHOHOT AHAHAHAHAHGAHAHAHAHIN!”

Just like before, Cloud quickly stopped, and Shulk put his arms up again. This was repeated several times until the older male switched tactics again and blew a raspberry onto the scientist’s belly. The only sound that followed was a loud scream that sounded like a cat screaming in fear.

Shulk never told him to stop, but at this point, Cloud knew that he couldn’t take another minute of tickling, so he ceased the raspberries and sat up, ending the tickles for good. Meanwhile, Shulk struggled to regain control of his laughter, his breathing, and his twitchy ears and tail.

“You alright?” Cloud asked, voice full of concern.

“Yeah… I’m fine. A bit… overwhelmed, but I’ll be… okay.” Shulk replied in between his heavy breaths as he sat up. “Can I… ask you some questions?”

“Sure, go ahead.”

Shulk waited until he had caught his breath to shift over to the older blonde and rest his head on his uncovered shoulder, “Okay, first, what happened to you being nice to me?” He asked, a slight pout forming on his face.

Cloud couldn’t help but laugh at the pout, “I suppose I got a little carried away with the tickling. Sorry about that.”

“A little is an understatement, but don’t worry about it. I forgive you.” The heir wrapped his tail around Cloud’s arm. “Second, do you know why that tickled so badly?”

“Not sure, but I think it has something to do with your increased sensitivity to tickling.”

“Wait, are you serious?! I’m somehow more ticklish than before?!”

“I think so, and if that’s the case, your increased sensitivity might have something to do with you being a cat hybrid.”

“How?” Shulk lifted his head off of Cloud’s shoulder so he could tilt it again, “How does being a cat hybrid affect my ticklishness?”

“Cats are more sensitive to touch than humans are, but I don’t know how sensitive they are on certain parts of their bodies.” Cloud gave the younger male a quick tickle under his chin, earning himself a light giggle, “I wouldn’t be able to tell you whether or not a cat is more ticklish on its chin or its stomach, for example. What I can tell you is that cats will react to your touch if you tickle them. Like I told you earlier, they can’t laugh, but they can react to tickling in other ways. Some might purr, and some will try to scratch your hand. There’s more to it than that, but I think you get the idea.”

“Oh, that’s really interesting! And a good way to transition to my last question…” The sparkle of excitement that once lit up Shulk’s eyes gave way to a mischievous glint.

Seeing that look in the “brother’s” eyes, Cloud tensed up, trying to disguise the nervousness that had begun to take root in his mind, “And that is…?”

“Why do you know so much about cats? I thought you were neutral towards them.”

“Well, I kind of implied it earlier, but someone taught me a few things about them.”

“But why would you need all of that information?”

“Uh…” The merc was dangerously close to having his secret revealed, and that made his face turn bright red from shame. However, as much as he wanted to lie again to protect himself from further embarrassment, he knew that the heir wouldn’t judge him, so he told him the truth. “I… wanted to get closer to some of the cats in my homeworld…”

He heard Shulk giggle, and he was afraid that he had humiliated himself. He was only slightly relieved when he heard his response, “You’re such a hypocrite.”

“What?”

“You punished me for lying about my ticklishness, and yet here you are, lying about your feelings towards cats. That’s not fair!” Shulk said with a whine and another pout.

The shame disappeared as Cloud chuckled, but he couldn’t respond to the scientist’s statement in time before something poked his ribs. He quickly realized that it was Shulk’s tail.

“What are you doing?” Cloud questioned the other, trying and failing to grab the fluffy appendage.

“Oh nothing~ I’m just thinking of something.” Shulk said playfully, a tone that Cloud knew to be dangerous.

“And what is that something, if I may ask?”

Never had he regretted a question so fast. In no time, Shulk pushed him onto his back and went to town, tickling his underarms with his hands and his ribs with his tail.

“Revenge~” Shulk said menacingly, letting out a pleased hum as Cloud fell deeper and deeper into hysterics.

For the next several minutes, the cat hybrid tickled his “brother” until the older blonde fought back and initiated a tickle fight. By the end of the fight, they were exhausted (especially Shulk, since he lost the tickle fight), and as they recovered from their intense laughter, Shulk thought to himself, “Maybe being a cat hybrid isn’t so bad…”

[seven-oomen]

The way I tend to be | The DILF Club

Happy Holidays to everyone! Have some delicious smut or our favorite DILFS, there's even some plot in this! Hope you like it because I have a universe thought out for this and if it does well, I'll share more!

It wasn’t doing as well on Ao3 as I was hoping for and I’m curious to see if it’ll do better here. If you enjoy it, please reblog, like, and/or comment on it. This is also a test to see if people still reblog fanfiction from me and if Once Upon a Time would do well on Tumblr. Which is my longest and most elaborate fanfic to date.

Fandom: Teen Wolf (TV) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Chris Argent/Peter Hale/Sheriff Stilinski, Chris Argent/Peter Hale, Chris Argent/Sheriff Stilinski, Peter Hale/Sheriff Stilinski Characters: Chris Argent, Peter Hale, Sheriff Stilinski Additional Tags: Sheriff Stilinski's Name is Noah, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Porn with Feelings, Porn With Plot, Cabin Fic, trans chris argent, Bisexual Peter Hale, Alpha Peter Hale, Trans Male Character, Bisexual Sheriff Stilinski, Bisexual Chris Argent, Double Vaginal Penetration, Double Penetration, Breeding, Creampie, Unprotected Sex Series: Part 1 of The way I tend to be

-

Fate could be a very cruel mistress when she wanted to be. And often she came together with a little vicious thing called irony.

The last year had been crazy. He discovered werewolves, banshees, wendigos, and werecoyotes were real, and so was whatever Kira was supposed to be. Chris Argent, Allison’s father and Isaac’s foster father, turned out to be a hunter, and the little bane of his existence during his career as a deputy, a certain Peter Hale, turned out to be a werewolf. As was Peter’s nephew Derek and his niece Cora. He still couldn’t completely wrap his head around that one.

They’d fought together, protected the town together, and now protected their children together.

That didn’t always go well, of course. One of them was a hunter, the other a werewolf, and somehow he always found himself right in between the other two trying to break up their fights.

A lot, and a lot of therapy for all three of them, had fixed that for the most part.

Still, there were times when he really wished he could duct tape Peter to the ceiling, mostly because the man was still a delinquent with a golden tongue, but mostly just because he was annoying. At least the werewolf was now firmly on their side and had proven that by nearly dying for both the other adults and all of the kids on multiple occasions. He’d really turned a new leaf. Still annoying as fuck, don’t get him wrong. But at least not reprehensible.

It was Peter’s new loyalty and Chris’s new code that had led him to go along with them on this particular mission. A mission to find a lone werewolf kid causing trouble around Mount Shasta. Since it was only two hours from Beacon Hills, he’d agreed to go over with the other two.

Their cover?

They were the chaperons on a school field trip to go skiing on the mountain for a week. Which had been the luckiest of coincidences in the history of coincidences but he’d take it. And since Stiles, Mikey, Malia, Jackson, Isaac, and Allison were all going, well, the rest of that was history.

“Peter, I swear to god if I find your socks anywhere near my bed again I will throw you through this window myself!” Chris snapped, holding up a pair of light blue socks with pink flamingos on them.

Ah. So that’s where his socks had gone off too. He was wondering where’d he left them.

“Those aren’t mine!” Peter bit back, looking so insulted at the mere idea of having to wear said socks that he couldn’t help but be offended at his offense. “I would never wear those monstrosities!”

“Right, I just keep finding random people’s socks in my bed for the last three days…” Chris growled, “You expect me to believe that?”

He bit his lip, wondering if he should admit to being the culprit. Since he was the only other person who had a bed in this room he figured Chris would draw that conclusion as well. But apparently, the hunter really hadn’t considered it.

The werewolf cocked his head to the left and sneered. “I’m not the only one who has a bed here beside you.”

Those fierce blue eyes turned to him and he couldn’t help but smile awkwardly at the both of them. “Yeah, those are mine.”

Peter smirked triumphantly at Chris, his eyebrows raised in a clear; I told you so.

To his credit, Chris pursed his lips and wordlessly handed him the bunched up socks of the last few days. His silver-blue eyes lingering with something that wasn’t quite a glare, but the man wasn’t exactly happy with him either.

“Thank you.” He quickly put his runaway socks into his duffel bag and straightened out the covers on his bed to keep himself busy.

“You owe me an apology, Christopher…” Peter’s voice sang through the room and a glance found the hunter glaring back at the wolf.

“I’m sorry for blaming you immediately.” Chris sighed, straightening out his own bed before checking the equipment in his backpack.

“Thank you,” Peter turned back to him and stared at him rather expectantly. “Noah?”

He had to admit he felt a little bit guilty for what had happened. He sighed softly as he shoved his water bottle, his sleeping bag, and some provisions into his backpack, looking up at the wolf sheepishly. “I’m sorry Peter, I’ll uh-” His eyes flicked to an expectant looking Chris, “I’ll keep a better eye on my socks and speak up when you’re blamed again.”

The wolf smiled mischievously at his apology, his eyes flicking from Chris to himself for a brief moment. “Thank you, now we really need to talk about your fashion choices, because those socks-”

Chris’s laughter followed him out of the room as he grabbed his packed bag and his orange ski jacket and headed out the door.

-

The trek up the mountain was not an easy one and they only had until nightfall to explore the area. He pulled the black beanie further over his ears and his gloves on a little tighter and looked over his shoulder.

Chris walked ahead of him, his blue ski jacket standing out against the white snow, a red beanie pulled over his ears to keep him warm.

Peter brought up the rear, his red ski jacket and brown beanie complementing one another in a rather surprising way. But if anyone could pull it off, he supposed it was the wolf.

They pushed through the snow and the wind, hoisting backpacks up higher and threading on while trying to find one lonely werewolf kid who needed their help. The wind started picking up as the hours progressed and once the snow started coming down and whipped around them, he realized that they weren’t going to be able to get back any time soon.

With their sight blocked off by the sudden incoming storm and nowhere to huddle they had no other choice but to walk on. He could no longer see where he was walking, only saw the bright blue of Chris’s ski jacket in front of him and before he knew it, he was face down in the snow and heard someone yelling his name.

“Noah!”

Someone picked him up and he felt two gloved hands cup his face. It took him a moment to register that it was Peter who picked him up and was currently cradling his face. He wasn’t sure how the concerned look on Peter’s face made him feel.

It wasn’t necessarily a bad feeling, but it was one he hadn’t been expecting. It was warm and tingly. Peter’s blue eyes made him think of the ocean and moonlit beaches with a soft breeze and the soft calls of whales in the background-

“Noah… Are you still on this planet?”

Peter’s words pulled him out of his thoughts. “What?”

The wolf frowned at him and gently patted him over his body to check him for injuries. He swatted at the wolf’s hands to put a stop to it and pursed his lips. “I’m fine, but we need to get out of the cold.”

Peter raised an eyebrow but nodded in agreement, turning back to Chris who had come towards them. “We need to get out of this wind, find shelter!”

“I know!” Chris yelled back, trying to carry his voice over the roar of the wind. “I think I saw a cabin up ahead!”

Chris looped his arm over his left while Peter looped his through his right and together they started tracking up the slope. The silhouette of the cabin quickly came closer with every step and they quickly headed over. They had to let go of each other to walk up the porch and Chris tested the door. It was locked, of course.

“Shit.” Chris muttered, “Look around for a key, usually-”

He started looking under several pots next to the door and found a key under the second one. Though a loud bang told him that they would no longer need a key.

“Or we could kick in the door…” Chris sighed while Peter held the door open for them to let them in.

Chris went in first, drawing his gun from inside his jacket as he checked the cabin room for room. He followed after the hunter, trying to suppress his hands from shaking and his body from shivering as the cold started to set in around him. Some snow had gotten into his jacket when he’d face-planted into the ground and it was creating a wet spot on his clothes as his body heat caused it to melt. The water also cooled down his body, especially in these temperatures.

Peter brought up the rear once more, eyes glowing a bright red as he scanned their surroundings and scented the air. The wolf behind him relaxed after a few moments, closing the door behind him by propping a chair from the little kitchen under the handle so it stayed locked.

“Cabin’s empty.” Peter and Chris said in unison. They walked up to him, frowning as they noticed his shivering, though he was doing his best to suppress it. He felt Peter’s incredibly warm hand against his forehead and couldn’t help but lean into it. He wasn’t sure how hot Peter ran in general, but it was definitely a few degrees higher than Chris or himself. Right now, that was a very welcome feature of the werewolf.

“He’s colder than he should be,” Peter muttered, gently guiding him towards the large fireplace in the middle of the room. “Come on, let’s get you heated up.”

“Did his jacket rip?” Chris asked, looking around for paper, wood, and other items they could burn.

Peter patted him down, despite his best efforts to keep the wolf’s hands off him. Werewolf strength could be quite unfair and if he wasn’t so damn cold he would have complained about the little shit sitting him down and throwing his own red ski jacket over him.

“Doesn’t seem to be but the collar is all wet and against his skin, looks like snow got in.”

“Aren’t you gonna get cold?” He raised an eyebrow at the black sweater Peter was wearing but also pulled the jacket closer and breathed in the wolf’s scent.

“I run a hundred and two degrees on a normal day.” Peter smiled, his face illuminated by the first sparks of the fire that Chris got running. It gave him a warm… almost soft look.

“It’s a werewolf thing,” Chris added, “Their body heat is higher than ours, it protects them from hypothermia, aids in their immunity against disease as well. One of those unfair advantages.”

He chuckled in response, his shivering already dying down now that the heat from the fire picked up and he had an extra layer. “That so?”

Peter hummed in agreement. “As is our superior sense of fashion.”

“Even Derek?” He asked, earning a laugh from Chris.

Peter pursed his lips and squinted his eyes. “Derek’s the exception to that rule.”

A laugh escaped him as Peter sat down next to him, though the laugh died on his lips as he noticed the concerned look Peter was giving the fire. It sobered him up considerably, knowing what Peter had been through, how close he was now sitting to something that had hurt him so much.

“Are you okay?”

The softness of his voice must have drawn Chris’s attention as well as the hunter had turned to look at them, his brow furrowing as he watched Peter’s face carefully. “Peter?”

Chris sat down on his other side, keeping a close eye on Peter while pretending to stare at the fire. Still, he noticed how Chris’s hands twitched in his lap and his eyes kept flicking to the wolf.

For a moment it seemed like Peter was lost in thought, staring into the growing fire with widening eyes. He noticed the wolf’s breathing picking up and his shaking hands. He carefully reached out and laid his own hand on top of Peter’s, startling the other man.

“What?” Peter relaxed at his touch and leaned into him unconsciously. “Yeah, yeah I’m fine. It’s just-”

His eyes flicked back to the fire.

He didn’t have to say it out loud.

“Yeah,” He pulled Peter’s jacket closer and pulled his legs up to minimize the loss of warmth. “We can turn it down if you need that.”

Chris frowned at those words, eyes flicking from him to Peter, before slowly nodding in agreement. “It wouldn’t be ideal, but if it’s hurting you-”

“No.” Peter quickly interrupted him. “No, I’m fine. And you both need the fire. I just- I might need a distraction.”

“Distraction?” Chris raised an eyebrow at the word, earning a smirk from Peter in the process.

“Yes, the dictionary defines it as a thing that prevents someone from concentrating on something else. Or do you need a clearer definition, Christopher?”

“You don’t have to be a dick about it, Peter…” Chris looked down at his hands and shrugged. “We all have our own demons we want to forget.”

Peter went a little quiet at that, staring down at his feet while he scooted closer to him. “You’re right, it’s just-” His eyes flicked back to the fire.

“I get it…” Chris’s smile was soft as the hunter reached behind him to lay a hand on Peter’s shoulder.

It was nice, to be wedged between the two younger men and feel their warmth seep through him. He let himself lean back against Chris’s arm and laid his head on Peter’s shoulder. It just felt like the right thing to do in that moment. “It’s okay.” He whispered.

Chris frowned as he noticed the color difference of his gray sweater and trailed a hand over it, stopping at the collar as he felt the dampness. His warm hand trailed down over his collarbone and down his chest until he hit a dry spot. “You’re half soaked, we need to get that sweater off you and get you in something dry.”

He looked down at his body and froze. He didn’t show his bare chest to anyone. Ever. Even while sharing a room with the other two, he’d always gone to the bathroom to change. There were certain things he didn’t want anyone else to know, his past being one of them.

If anyone understands, it would be these two.

A little voice in his head told him. Yeah, it was right and he knew that. But what if they’d look at him differently?

Chris handed him a dark green sweater from his bag, having dragged said bag over with his foot, and gently started lifting his shirt. The hunter stopped after an inch and raised an eyebrow.

He was asking for permission.

He slowly shook his head. “I’ll do it.” And gently peeled the half wet garment from him and over his head. Constantly aware of what his aging body looked like. At fifty-three his best days had passed. He wasn’t as muscled as Peter or as lean and strong as Chris. His chest had a softness to it from all the fast food he’d been eating and he was showing his age with little marks, freckles, and the scars from years of abuse. The most obvious one being the scar on his left shoulder.

He paused for a second, jumping a little when Chris’s hand hovered over the scar. Though the hunter pulled away quickly and looked like he might apologize. Though the words seemed to get stuck in his throat.

“What happened?” It was Peter who broke the silence.

He wasn’t sure what he could say, felt tears prickling in his eyes and for a moment he heard his father’s booming vague voice ringing through his ears. “My father happened, he uhm, I didn’t let him hurt my mother,” He sighed, “and he pushed me through our coffee table.”

“Jesus…” Peter whispered, gently squeezing his right shoulder in comfort.

“I’m sorry…” Chris muttered, rubbing his own scarred hands in discomfort.

“We all have our own demons… Right?” He shrugged and put Chris’s green sweater on, quickly figuring out that the fit would work but was on the tight side as the edges of his sleeves stopped a little too high on the wrist. It was also a little on the short side at the middle.

He sighed. “At least it’s dry.”

Peter bit his lip and looked like he was having great difficulty with keeping his laughter contained. “It doesn’t look that bad…”

Chris wasn’t as kind and snorted before trying to cover it up with a cough.

He glared at the younger man but smiled after a minute or two. “Thank you, Chris.”

Chris let his eyes roam down and grinned. “You’re welcome.”

He laid his head back on Peter’s shoulder and pulled Chris closer for his warmth.

“So neither of you is going to distract me then?”

He didn’t know why he found that statement so funny but he couldn’t help but laugh at the annoyance in Peter’s voice. He felt Chris smile against his shoulder as the hunter laid his head down on it for a second.

“How do you propose we do that, Peter?” The hunter lifted his head and leaned in just a bit, just inches away from Peter’s face.

The wolf answered Chris with a smirk. Gently putting a finger under Chris’s chin to pull him closer. “I have an idea, it’ll also keep you both warm.”

“Will it now?” Chris’s smooth deep voice send a shiver down his spine and made his cock twitch. He swallowed rather heavily in response.

God, he wanted Chris to command him in that voice, to tell him to take off his clothes and put his ass up in the air and-

“I think someone likes the sound of that voice…” Peter purred into his ear, the wolf laid a finger under his chin and lifted his head to face Chris.

“Do it again.”

He stared into Chris’s silver-blue eyes, warmth traveling down his body and stirring in his loins as the hunter smiled deviously.

“Hmm, what do you think sheriff ?” Chris purred the last word, he couldn’t help the little sound of desperation that escaped him. A sound that he echoed as Peter leaned in and gently nipped at his ear.

“I think he hates it.” Peter grinned against his cheek and slowly started nipping his way down his jaw and to his neck. “I think he might want us to stop.”

The wolf paused and he growled in response, reaching behind him to cup the back of Peter’s head and pull him back down. “Don’t you dare, Peter.”

Peter laughed in response and gently pulled him into his lap before continuing his lovely assault on his neck. He moaned happily and wiggled a little to get more comfortable and rub his ass against the growing bulge beneath him. Peter’s laugh dissolved into a moan.

Chris smirked at them, slowly trailing his hands up Noah’s thighs though he stopped just short of his groin, a silent question in his eyes. He nodded enthusiastically, too occupied to answer due to Peter biting the sensitive skin at the nape of his neck without breaking it. “Fuck me…”

Peter paused in his marking efforts, growling into his ear as he forced him to focus on Chris by grabbing a hold of his jaw. He felt Peter’s nails gently scratching his skin. “Oh, I think Christopher might have a better idea.”

Chris’s hand traveled up and cupped his cock through his pants, gently rubbing and stimulating the hardening member. He in turn squirmed in Peter’s lap and felt the Alpha’s clothed cock press against the cleft of his ass.

“Does he now?” He moaned softly.

Chris scooted closer and placed a leg on each side of his lap, sharing a passionate kiss with Peter before he turned his focus back on Noah. Chris pulled him up a little by the collar of his borrowed sweater and for a moment he thought the younger man would kiss him as well. Chris leaned in but stopped just short and smiled. “I’m gonna ride you both at the same time.”

As hot as that sounded, his brain short-circuited for a moment. He paused and blinked, cocking his head to the left as he tried to figure out how exactly that was going to work. “How is that gonna fit, we don’t have lube.”

Chris chuckled in response and gently lifted Noah’s hands to cup his ass. “You’re just gonna have to get me wet enough.”

Wet enough? He was missing something here. Not that he was complaining, Chris’s ass was phenomenal.

Peter took pity on him. “I think he doesn’t know. Maybe you should show him.”

The absolutely feral grin Chris gave him made his breath stutter.

“Let’s have some fun then.”

He felt Peter smile against his neck, the Alpha going back to his assault to suck a few more hickeys into the sensitive skin. That was gonna be a bitch to hide from Stiles, Mikey, and Liam but considering that every touch sent electricity through his body, he wasn’t going to complain much.

Chris opened his own pants but didn’t slip them down. Instead, he zipped down Noah’s and continued his teasing touch.

A soft squeaky moan escaped him as Chris’s hand rubbed him through the fabric and slowly massaged him to a throbbing erection. Peter in the meantime had started rubbing himself against his ass while continuing his assault on his neck and even his shoulders. He was gonna be bruised and sore by tomorrow, that was for sure.

“He’s pretty when he’s marked up,” Chris commented as he slipped his hand inside Noah’s underwear and wrapped a hand around his hard cock. The other man stroked it slowly, keeping his touch light and gentle as he worked from the sensitive head to the base, and then slipped him out of his restraining clothes as he worked himself back up.

“Pretty down there too…” The hunter remarked, smiling as he studied Noah’s cock for a moment, fingers tracing over the thick veins down to his balls.

Peter let out a delighted moan behind him, one that he echoed as the wolf made him grind down on while Peter thrust up. It was a goddamn shame they didn’t have any lube because he really wanted that thick cock to wreck his ass right then and there. But Chris clearly had a different plan.

The hunter guided one of his left hand from its place on Chris’s ass up to his own mouth, offering him his own fingers with a firm. “Suck on them, get them wet.”

Processing that command took him a second but he caught on quickly and started sucking on his index and middle finger. Bobbing his head up and down and swirling his tongue around the digits until they were coated in his own saliva.

Chris gently pulled Noah’s fingers free after a few moments and guided his hand down Chris’s pants. His mouth opening in a little ‘O’ when his fingers didn’t brush over a hard cock but instead found soft curls and a wet cunt. Oh, that made a whole lot of sense. His cock twitched excitedly and he couldn’t help but grin and lick his lips as he slowly started rubbing the soft folds and sensitive clit. Using his wet fingers as lube to ease his way.

Chris’s breath hitched as he circled the sensitive little nub and applied varying amounts of pressure. He enthusiastically met him for a passionate kiss, causing Peter to groan, followed by a desperate moan once the wolf caught on what they were doing.

He heard a zipper behind him opening and felt the brush of Peter’s hand against his ass. Knowing Peter, he was practically drooling while jerking himself off as he watched them make out.

“Fuck that’s hot,” Peter whispered.

Chris grinned against his lips and leaned back, watching both of them with a hungry leer. The hunter leaned back and pulled away much to his dismay. His wet hand dropped to his side and he held it up to get a quick taste of Chris. He felt Peter practically vibrate behind him as he let out a hungry moan.

Chris came back quickly with one of the sleeping bags, zipped it open and laid it out on the floor before he took off his pants and commanded him in that silky voice, “Lay down on your back.”

The command made him shiver and he scrambled quickly to do the hunter’s bidding. Laying down on the sleeping bag. He was rewarded for his quick action by a gentle blow on his cock and the hunter’s questioning gaze.

“Please…” He begged softly, squirming at Chris’s burning look. God, he wanted Chris to ride em like he stole em and talk dirty to him until his toes curled and he came screaming their names. Judging by the hungry smile the hunter sent him in return, his fantasy might just be fulfilled tonight.

“Please what, sheriff ?” The hunter’s voice vibrated through him and he noticed Peter shuddering as well. The wolf’s breath ragged and his cock leaking precum.

“Oh for the love of God, Chris if you don’t start sucking me off-” He moaned as Chris licked a path from his balls to the tip of his cock before deep throating him in one smooth move, effectively cutting him off.

The hunter hollowed his cheeks and slowly worked his way up, making his toes curl as warmth exploded through him, and his heart hammered in his chest.

He felt Peter settle, one knee on each side of his head, and looked up to see the wolf was offering him his own hard member. He smirked and lapped at the leaking head, moaning at the slightly bitter but not unpleasant taste.

“Turn your ass around Chris I want to taste you,” Peter growled.

Chris demonstrated just how flexible he could be by putting a leg on either side of him and raising his hips in the air without hitting him in the process, his lips never leaving their attention to his cock.

Peter’s appreciative moan had him shivering in response. He continued his worship of the wolf’s member with short licks to the head and worked his way down to the heavy balls, taking each in his mouth and rolled it around on his tongue before working his way back up.

He heard Chris moan, long and filthy above him, and watched as Peter’s enthusiastic licking, sucking, and tongue fucking of Chris’s cunt was met with equal enthusiasm as Chris fucked the wolf’s face. He felt the hunter’s legs contract and shudder after a few minutes, gasps escaping Chris as he came hard on Peter’s tongue. He even felt some fluid hit him on the chin as the hunter squirted his juices over them, much to his surprise and Peter’s delight.

“I hoped you could still do that.” The Alpha growled, playfully biting Chris’s ass without breaking the skin and slapping his other cheek.

Chris pulled away from them and took a few strides and deep breaths to come down from his high. Then grinned and swayed his hips as he walked back to them and smoothly straddled him.

“Oh, I can do far more than that.” The hunter chuckled. “What do you say?”

He groaned softly and quickly nodded his consent. “Please…”

Peter growled in response, red eyes glowing as he walked around them to sink behind Chris. “Why don’t you ride us, sweetheart?”

Chris smirked in return. Gently grabbing a hold of his cock and guiding him into the hunter’s tight wet heat. He nearly came on the spot but managed to hold back just enough by focusing on a spot on the ceiling and letting out a slow breath to ground himself while Chris slowly got used to his length and girth. He wasn’t the biggest or thickest guy, and thankfully neither was Peter or this was never gonna fit, but neither of them were exactly small either and Chris would need to adjust to each of them.

After a moment or two, the hunter slowly raised himself and moved his hips in slow, long strokes until he slid in and out easily and Chris could pick up some pace. His toes started curling and the warmth in his belly started pooling slowly, gradually building with each thrust and stroke until Chris pulled up enough to keep only the tip of his cock in.

He hadn’t even noticed Peter coming closer until the wolf aligned the head of his cock against his own as he slowly pushed the first few inches into Chris’s cunt beside him.

“Fuck…” He moaned, eyes rolling back into his head as Chris slowly sank on both of their cocks. They rubbed together in the tight wet heat of Chris’s cunt and he could feel every pulse, throb, and twitch coming from the wolf’s cock.

Chris paused once he had them both down halfway, his chest heaving with every breath and a large grin on his face. The hunter leaned over him, sinking himself further on Noah’s cock but forcing Peter’s further out. Chris then grabbed his wrists and pinned them above his head, checking over his shoulder to see if Peter was on board, who grinned in return.

The moment Chris started moving, riding him like a prized stallion, Peter pushed his hips up every time Chris pushed down. Rubbing both their cocks together, lubed by Chris’s juices as the entire lengths met and rolled together with each thrust.

A string of moans and desperate little sounds left his throat as he surrendered to the warmth and feelings of pleasure that surged through him with every move. He felt it intensifying with each stroke, each move. Amplified by the wet sounds of Chris’s cunt and his little moans of pleasure, Peter’s growls and harder thrusts and by the twitching and throbbing of the wolf’s cock besides his own.

He managed to hold out for several minutes before his toes curled, his body convulsed and heat exploded in his loins. His cock twitched and pulsed as he came hard and in long spurts, while Chris continued to ride him and Peter continued to thrust in beside his twitching cock.

It didn’t take long for the wolf to let out a long moan and join him. Their cocks twitching and throbbing together as they came deep inside Chris and filled him with their cum. He felt Peter slump forward, held up by Chris as the wolf shuddered his last wave of ecstasy.

Chris continued to ride them, though the movement of his hips was greatly reduced due to Peter’s weight on his back. Milking them for every last drop they had. Only when they were spent and Peter was practically napping from exhaustion did he let them slip from him.

The hunter gently maneuvered Peter from his back to lay him down on Noah’s right, furthest away from the fire and rummaged through his own backpack for wet wipes to clean them up.

“Now that was a distraction.” Noah grinned, pleased when Chris winked at him.

It took a minute for Peter to come back to them with a dopey grin. Watching with interest as Chris did his best to clean them and himself from all traces of their fucking. Pouting a little as the hunter pushed out as much of their cum as he could and wiped it away.

“That’s a damn shame…” Peter muttered. “We tried so hard to breed you.”

Chris merely chuckled. “Wasn’t gonna work anyway, I’ve been on testosterone for sixteen years and have an IUD. The odds of you knocking me up are astronomical.”

He couldn’t help but frown at Chris’s words, for tempting fate was never a particularly good idea. But on the other hand, the hunter did have a point on how unlikely it would be. They weren’t the youngest, Chris was on hormones, and if he also had an IUD. What on Earth were the odds then? They couldn’t be high to begin with, even if in the best circumstances.

So he scoffed and pulled his pants back up. Peter did the same and Chris located his and put them on as well. Another sleeping bag was pulled from somewhere. His jacket was put up near the fire, on the back of a chair to dry further. And Chris laid down next to them on the sleeping bag to hunker down for the next few hours until the storm died down.

At least they were warm, comfortable, and utterly sated for now.

He dozed off knowing that their dynamic had shifted. Yes, he still wanted to duct tape Peter to the ceiling. And Chris could still be a jerk when he wanted to be. But at the very least, this was the start to a very fun beneficial rump for all three of them. Whatever else fate wanted to throw at them, they could only wait and see.

-

So what do we think? Do we want more of this universe? Do we want more DILF smut? More Chris/Peter/Noah?

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Buy me a Coffee

[bangtansfavwriter]

🥞☕brunch café owner! jin☕🥞

tw: a tiny mention of anxiety and shitty people that you may have encountered in school / uni ( but a lot of fluff to make up for it! )

- so far, your day was a complete catastrophe, im not even gonna tone it down, it was a complete shitshow to be honest

-it was like god woke up and went "i’m gonna let y/n have a shit day lmaoo"

-you overslept and missed your bus... on the day you had an appointment with your lecturer about your term paper

- after tripping on the stairs and hitting your knee, you hobbled to the office where this gollum lookalike was already waiting for you

- your lecturer was unreasonable enough to not let you extend your deadline for your paper... the one book you needed wasn't in the library for the past 3 weeks and there was no other edition available. so you explained the situation multiple times even at the beginning of your writing process, you even wrote him mails to explain the issue

- but this man who literally radiated boomer energy with every particle of his being really had the audacity to not answer, not even to your second mail and then he actually said that he does not understand "how someone of your age doesn't manage to even get a simple task as writing a paper" done

-you explained the situation again but he was pretty much tone-deaf to your situation and didn't even care when you said that you're actually gonna go to the library now to get the book scans

- so you went there already drained and exhausted from that conversation

-but the library was an even worse experience tbh .......

[fic mode: on, hohoho]

The lady in the library yelled at you for no apparent reason after you informed her that the scanner wasn't working and made you look stupid in front of other students who were there until one of them intervened and helped you out, which you appreciated. But this whole situation grew even worse on you after you left the library because your anxiety kicked in. You went straight into a quiet alley nearby and started crying quietly. "But hey!" you then exclaimed angrily, while wiping away your tears "At least the paper is gonna get done, right?! because who gives a shit about mental health and all huh, Mr. Go?!" and you started sobbing again. "Dickhead... And that stupid library lady... with her stupid fat 80s glasses. And her ugly yeehaw look...". This was something you wouldn't ever do in public, crying and ranting that is. but the alley was quiet, your only company was a stray cat that was sleeping underneath a tree's shadow. or so you thought. "Ugly yeehaw people and their ugly ass clothes, like... go read a magazine or something...". You started feeling more liberated with each mild insult you'd utter, so you went on. "Ugly library lady and her giant wart, like who the fuck are you? yubaba?" you heard someone snort and start laughing a squeaky laugh that almost sounded like a windshield wiper. Taken aback by the unexpected witness to your mild breakdown, you stood still at first, then looked around, left and right, but you couldn't see anyone. "Over here!" you heard someone say. You looked around again and sighed when you still couldn't see anyone. "Did I finally lose my mind?" you mumbled to yourself, only to hear the squeaky laugh again. "Hey! Turn around and look up!". You got up the bench and did as you were told by the omnipresent voice and finally saw the person it belonged to. Up at the 1st floor, there was a guy looking down to you from his tiny balcony that had plants hanging down from it. He smiled at you when your eyes met and you felt your heart rate go up in an instant, as you realized this stranger, this awfully handsome stranger witnessed how your petty little rant and crying about yubaba's twin in the library. "Tough day, huh?" he asked, you just nodded and quickly wiped your face with your sleeve. "Oh no, hold on" he mumbled and suddenly disappeared from his window, leaving you behind with a surprised look on your face. A box of Kleenex suddenly landed in front of your feet, as he reappeared at his window. "Just one would have done it, too, but thank you. I appreciate it!" you said and smiled at the guy. While you wiped your face, you heard another something land on the bench. You looked up again to the guy who, all of a sudden, avoided your gaze. "That'll help, you know..." he said and looked at you in surprise when you started laughing. What he threw on the bench was a... bar of chocolate. One that also happened to be your favourite. You looked at him and gave him a huge smile that made his heart flutter. He looked away shyly and scratched his head. "Tough day, yeah... but this right here," you raised the chocolate bar, "this makes it all better, you're right about that. Thank you!" The stranger couldn't help but look at you once again. He almost felt compelled to it. It was like staring at the sun when it sets, you know that you shouldn't stare at it directly, but it's so breathtakingly beautiful that you can't help but look. He intently watched you while you happily munched on your chocolate and smiled to himself. "What's your name?" he asked you. "Y/N! How about you?" - "I'm Seokjin. You can call me Jin..." - "Nice to meet you, Jin. I wish it would have been under different circumstances, though. I'm actually quite embarrassed about that, but chocolate helps with that, too." You two smiled at each other. "You know what, Y/N? Sometimes good things happen at weird times. Don't be embarrassed about crying earlier. I'm the last person who'd judge you because of that. I know that library witch, by the way... That Yubaba comparison was spot on!" You laughed out loud - he very much wished to hear this sound more often now. "Y/N, I gotta get ready for work now. But I'm gonna share one last bit of wisdom with you. I know a good remedy for bad days." - "Better than chocolate?" - "Oh, yes. Even better than chocolate. There's a café in XX street. There's a whole lot of lavender growing right in front of it, you can't miss it. That cafe has the best pancakes in the entire city." - Oh my god, pancakes are the best thing on earth!" - "(!!!) You must go there and try then! They're fluffy and come in 5 different variations and the sweetest maple syrup! I'm telling you, if you have a bad day like this again, go straight to that café." He already got you at pancakes, so you definitely would go there. "I'll finish this damn paper and then go reward myself with pancakes! In one or two weeks I'll get like 2 plates of pancakes then!" - "That sounds perfect!", he laughed. Shortly after, he excused himself and you two bid farewell. He disappeared from his window and your troubles had disappeared from your soul. You went home with a smile on your face, thankful for the kindness he had shown you and hoped that you would see him in the café some day. "Who knows... Maybe he's a regular there. It sounded like it."

~

Roughly one and a half weeks later, many all nighters and a whole lot of take out food, you finished the paper and handed it in. Liberated from this massive pain in the ass, you went straight to the café that your thoughts circled around during the times you weren't busy with your paper. "God, I hope he's there...", you thought and thought of Jin, who you thought about as much as you dreamed of the huge plate of pancakes you were going to get now. The café was not very far from where you lived, you walked there in about 15 minutes and recognised the place by a very accurate description Jin has given you. The smell of lavender bewitched you as soon as you stepped into the alley the café was in. Lots of flower pots were in the front of it, not only was there lavender but also gardenias and petunias. The flowers were all around the tables outside. "Of course, the flower boy loves the flower café" you said to yourself and smiled. The café wasn't too busy, as you came by at a rather early hour, when there were still lectures for most students and older people were busy at the local market place. You were greeted right away when you entered the café, by a younger man, probably also a fellow student, who was wearing an apron and gave you a warm welcome with his bunny smile. He showed you to your table at the window side from where you could watch bees hurdle at the lavender pots outside. You ordered shortly after, it didn't take much thinking when you saw the "Eat the stress away" menu, with regular pancakes, hashbrowns and a tea/coffee option. "Excellent choice! It's my personal favourite~", your waiter added. You glanced at each other. "Fellow student?" you asked and laughed when he suddenly looked at you with a gloomy look, but joined you in laughter right away. "Shared struggle", he said laughing, leaned over real quick and whispered: "I'll get you some blueberry pancakes, too. I'll tell the chef you're a friend of mine." - "Oh my god, thank you!" He winked and went straight to the kitchen, while humming a tune. Well, this was certainly the sweetest waiter you'd ever encountered. But you had your eyes on the door, hoping for a divine intervention that would lead to Jin coincidentally walk into the café when you were there. Around 15 minutes later you finally sipped on your coffee and were about to devour the fluffiest pancakes you'd ever had on a plate in front of you. The hash browns were a tad bit disappointing, as they had a slighty burnt taste and weren't spiced very well, in your opinion. But the pancakes were absolutely amazing. Their soft and fluffy texture was  complemented with butter and the sticky-sweet maple syrup that as truly as good as Jin said. And the blueberry pancakes were so good that you feared losing control over your facial expressions. Your waiter came along to your table, after he got the newest customer orders to the kitchen. You invited him to sit with you, which he gladly accepted. "How do you like it? They're really good, right?" - "I think this is what the kids call 'foodgasm'...", you answered and the two of you giggled. He looked at your plate and noticed the hash browns that you put at the edge of your plate. "Oh? Didn't like the hash browns?" he asked with wide eyes.

"They're slightly burnt, I think..." you said shyly. You were never one to criticize the cook when you didn't like your food in a restaurant. The only time when you actually complained was when you once found hair in your soup in a restaurant, and even back then you apologised for the trouble whereas it was clearly the chef who was at fault. "Please don't tell anyone, this can happen sometimes, I accept that." you quickly added, but your waiter shook his head ferociously. "You paid for this, so it is our duty to bring good food to your table. Our chef is a perfectionist, I don't understand how this can happen anyway. I'll get it sorted out, but not without teasing him. Can you wait a little until the customers are gone here. We close for lunch time. So people are gonna leave soon." You agreed and waited, while befriending the waiter - Jungkook, a 2nd year student who was currently doing a side job at "Café Smeraldo". After the last customer left, Jungkook decided to call the chef by yelling across the café. "He's also the manager you know. We're a bit short-staffed, you know... This is gonna be funny~~ JIN-HYUNG!" You almost spat out your coffee and started coughing as soon as you heard that name. "JIN-HYUNG COME OUT OF YOUR BUREAU! YOU BURNT A CUSTOMER'S FOOD!" He cackled after he heard noise coming from inside, while you sat there mortified. The door from the staff room slammed open and you instantly wished to turn into dust, as said manager/chef was the guy who consoled you on one of the worst days you've had in your academic life. The two of you stared at each other in shock, but before he could say anything to you he started scolding his younger co-worker and the two of them started bickering, while you continued sipping on your coffee, because this whole situation was soon more entertaining than it was mortifying. At some point Jin shushed Jungkook who shut up right away when he realized that this wasn't playful bickering anymore. Jungkook bowed deeply and went to the kitchen where he started cleaning. "You're friends with the boy?" Jin asked and sat down at your table. He looked tired, you thought. "No, actually we met earlier, but I suppose we just clicked very fast." - "So this kid got you my famous blueberry pancakes on the house, huh?" - "...I guess so. Look, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to cause you trouble. I really didn't want him to say anything about the hash browns either." He quickly glanced at them and grabbed one to take a bite, but put it down again before doing so. "I can see it already", he said "you don't need to apologise, it's my bad." He sat there with a gloomy expression and sighed. "Tough day, huh?" you asked and smiled at him when he laughed at your reference. "Tough week is more like it. We're a bit short-staffed at the moment. But enough of me and my manager melancholy. Finished your paper?" You were surprised by his sudden change, but you went along. "Yeah, I turned it in earlier and came here right after. I gave you my word after all." You smiled at him, and he felt the same rush that he had experienced the day he first met you. You continued: "You were right, by the way. These pancakes are everything!! Especially the blueberry ones. Is that your recipe?" He laughed and nodded. "I'm glad you liked them!" he said. "I'll serve you better hash browns the next time, pinky promise. I got a phone call while preparing 3 orders, yours was the only one that suffered from it." - "It happens sometimes. Don't dwell on something so minor." - "Says you, who cried beneath my balcony because of some witch!" The two of you giggled. He looked at you with a look, that made your cheeks burn. His gaze was fond and soft, it was the kind of look you have whenever the sky looks pretty, or when a bird lands near you and sings a little song. Neither of you could break the look you shared, as neither of you could describe a bond that was apparently now formed with chocolate and pancakes. It was him who spoke up first: "Got room for more pancakes?". This question took you by surprise, but pancakes are always a welcome surprise. "Hell yeah, you can never have enough pancakes." - "I need more proof for that, but based on that sentence alone I can say that we may be soulmates, Y/N." You started laughing, as did he. "But why? What do you have in mind? Also, I'm surprised you still remember my name." His cheeks got a very apparent pink hue after your remark and you noticed how grossly you were endeared by this man. "Y/N... How could I forget..." he said with a low voice that made your heart flutter. "How could I forget someone who made me believe there was a banshee at my door for a solid minute!" He broke out in his loud and squeaky laughter as soon as he saw the pure offence and shock on your face, after he said that, because *that* was certainly not what you expected to hear.  "You're mean, oh my god!" you exclaimed but had to laugh, too. You guys needed two minutes to calm down again. The pink hue on his face was still there and you felt the rush of confidence in you. He noticed you looking at him and spoke up:

"Y/N... How could I forget someone who has made me smile on a day I didn't feel like smiling at all? I got the news my cook had to quit on the day we met. I thought this was the end for my café. But then, I met you, shortly after I got the news. And seeing you going from crying to happily munching on some chocolate despite having issues that made you cry in public in the first place... Seeing you forgetting your troubles with something so small as a chocolate bar. I don't know... I felt hopeful for some reason. And I love this feeling. And, god... I really hoped you'd take my advice and come here to have my pancakes! (he chuckled) But I have to admit something... I so regretted not asking for your number. For the past week I jumped through the kitchen door everytime a customer came in...". You were pretty sure your heart was soon gonna explode through your chest. He hid his face with his hands and sighed. "I'm not like this at all~" he whined, before facing you again. "But... How about I make us some more pancakes now? And hash browns, if you like. I haven't had breakfast yet and well... I really want to make you pancakes. Can I?" His voice became thinner with each sentence he added, since he came shyer with each bit. You chuckled, in disbelief about how your rapidly beating heart became so calm, yet so full when this man told you he wanted to make you pancakes. No nervosity whatsoever, no second thoughts, nothing. An epiphany over pancakes... Who would have thought? This was safe. This was a safe place for both of you, and both of you felt it.

"A breakfast date then?"

"Breakfast date it is."

"I like the sound of that."

💕

epilogue:

-you two enter the kitchen after you insisted on watching him cook for you-

jk: hyu- oh, hi y/n! you guys know each other? ah hyung, i cleaned up everything and tidied up in the bureau. i'm sorry about earlier. (bows again and stands there shyly)

jin: (sighs very deeply) come here, you dodo.

the two of them shared a short but sweet hug, after which jungkook had a huge smile on his face again. jin and you shared a look and the same thought as you looked at jungkook after.

jin: jk, you wanna have pancakes with us?

jk: huh? yeah sure, i'm actually pretty hungry... (he smiles at you two) I'll go clean up inside real quick and prepare the table! yayy, pancake brunch with friends ☺️ (he leaves you two in the kitchen)

you turned to jin and smiled. "don't even start." he said quickly, while he started getting the ingredients out. "AWWW~~" - "NOOO!"

-the end-

[acockius]

santa baby.

oh, baby. is this what the kids mean way they say “sister snapped”? if you know me, you knew that was coming. i couldn’t let christmas past without doing it. i realize it’s a little weird and taboo, so if it’s not your thing, don’t read it! it’s also my first “real” smut, so be gentle! i hope you like it, and that santa brought you everything you asked for, outside of this fic. 

sugar daddy!roger taylor x reader ; 2,976 words ; smut and innuendos, don’t touch this shit if you’re under 18. 

It was no secret that Christmas was your favorite time of year. There was nothing you loved more than getting to show the people you held closest to you how much they meant to you. Whether it was a kind gesture or a small token of appreciation, you made your best efforts to present every person who made your days brighter with something special. In years’ past, your creativity and thriftiness had proven great success in providing joy to your loved ones. But this year, things were a little bit different.

You found yourself with a little more money than you usually had. Well, in fact, it was a lot more money than you have ever had. Things had changed a little bit dramatically this past year, and it was certainly for the better. You were living a lavish lifestyle that you couldn’t have pictured, even your wildest dreams, and it was all thanks to him. Your friends and family would certainly reap the benefits of your new way of life; there was no questions about that. But what were you to give the man that had given you everything in such a short amount of time?

These thoughts loomed over your head as you sipped champagne in the lobby of the grandiose theatre during the interval. You hadn’t meant to go quiet; maybe it came off as if you were pondering the first act of the ballet he’d taken to you. He seemed to be preoccupied with staring up at the Christmas tree that towered over those who inhabited the lobby during this twenty-minute pause before the next act, so maybe he hadn’t noticed.

He was impeccably dressed, but when was he not? He wore a sharp black suit, with a baby blue dress shirt and a white tie. He looked like a winter’s dream; who would you be not to indulge him in a coordinated outfit? Your blue sweater-dress left little to the imagination and paired perfectly with taupe knee-high boots. Presently absent was the elegant fur coat that was waiting for you at coat check until the performance was over - a gift he gave you as soon as the seasons had changed. You complemented each other perfectly.

It was hard to pin-point how exactly you’d gotten to this point. How did you become the arm-candy of a successful musician who kept you around for far longer than you’d predicted? What steps had you taken so that the universe could have lead you to him, or even he to you? You’d been at this for just short of a year now, and the arrangement, which was once strict and regimented, had become natural and fluid. You found yourself walking a thin line between appreciation and adoration. It was becoming increasingly more difficult to tell the difference between the two.

An usher had entered the vestibule with a set of bells and played a tune to notify theatergoers that that second act was going to begin. You downed the rest of your champagne quickly and stood from the seat you’d been occupying in the lobby. You reached for his hand and his lips curved upward into a smile as he laced his fingers with yours. Giving his arm a pleasant tug, he stood, and situated his arm around your back.

“Shall we?” He gestured to the theater, and you nodded.

As you began to walk back to the entrance of the theater, you were slightly startled by a dramatic gasp. You turned to your left to see a little girl with her hands covering her mouth. The reaction wasn’t one you’d ever seen from someone so young. Did she know who was holding you close, and if so, how?

“Papa, look! It’s Santa Claus!” The little girl, dressed up in a holiday dress with huge bow in her hair, pointed at your companion and squealed.

You let out a pleasant giggle and hid your blush in your hands. The young girl’s father quickly ushered his daughter away, apologizing profusely but managing to fit a “love your work” in there somewhere. Your date seemed unfazed by the interaction, ushering you both back to your seats. He took his place next to you and wrapped his arm around the back of your seat to hold you close.

“Honestly, I’m relieve that I’m not the only one who sees it.” You finally said, placing a hand on his chest and cozying up to him.

“See what, love?”

Was he serious?

“That you look like jolly ol’ Saint Nick.”

He gave you one of his world famous eye rolls.

“I do not! I look like - me.” He countered, shaking his head.

“Roger…” You did your best to not sound condescending. “Surely you must realize that you resemble father Christmas”

“You’re right mad, you are.” Roger shook his head, playfully squeezing your thigh.

“It’s not a bad thing. Roggie, I love Santa.” You teased.

Roger shot you a look, which was similar to ones you’d seen in times of disobedience. Thankfully the show had started up again, so the discussion came to an abrupt ending. What was so bad about looking like Santa? Did he feel that you were poking fun at his age? Or was it that you’d said that you loved Santa? Did that mean that Roger thought you were telling him that you loved him? There weren’t supposed to be any feelings between the two of you. There were times where you thought that Roger did care about you, but it was safer to believe that he didn’t. You were always disappointed in yourself anytime you’d done or said anything to let Roger believe you cared about him. You didn’t want to come off as immature and naive. After all, this was just an agreement between the two of you.

—————————————————

You still struggled to find the perfect gift for Roger. He was adamant about you not getting him anything either. He assured you that your presence at Christmas dinner was more than enough. Of course, it wouldn’t actually be Christmas dinner, as you had to spend the holiday with your respective families. Little details like that kept reality in the forefront of your minds. Roger had five children to spend the holidays with. And also a wife.

When you arrived at his condo the day before Christmas Eve, you held a small cheesecake in your hands. You hoped that maybe Roger would be smitten by the fact that you rolled your sleeves up and baked him something, but you didn’t hold your breath on that one. It was easy to impress a coworker with your baked goods, but not a rock and roll star. You had the key to the place and let yourself in, calling out for him after you made your way into the foyer.

You shuffled the dessert back and forth between your hands as you took off your coat, revealing a green satin wrap dress, as foot steps approached from behind you.

“Ho, ho, ho…” The greeting was playful enough, but you knew better from the tone of the words.

When you turned to Roger, he smoothly leaned his arm against the entryway between the foyer and living room. He wore one of his famous velvet suits and had a hat on to match. You felt like you were being mocked by the festive red fabric the covered your lover from the top of his head to the bottom of his ankles. The color of your cheeks was a near perfect match to his outfit.

You quickly hung up your jacket and then offered the dessert to Roger.

“It’s a cheesecake. It’s not much but I thought it might pair nicely with some wine for dessert.” You shrugged awkwardly and watched Roger’s eyes dart between your gaze and your outstretched arms.

“Bold of you to assume we’ll make it that far.” Roger responded smugly, but accepted the desert anyway. He nodded his head towards the living room and you followed closely behind.

Roger set your cheesecake down on the bar that resided in the far side of the living room before he took a seat on the leather coach. He pat his thighs and ran his fingers over his fabric-covered lap.

“Have a seat, darling.” Roger watched you linger a few feet away, towering over him in your high heels. You overestimated how a pair of black pumps could elevate your look.

You hesitantly went to Roger, seating yourself on one of his knees. You tugged the ends of your dress towards your knees and crossed your legs. Roger’s calloused fingers coasted along your nylon-covered legs before stopping at your knee and squeezing playfully.

“Someone’s working on getting her last minute nice-girl points in before the final tally…” Roger cooed in your ear, his beard tickling your cheek.

“Roggie, what’s this about?” You didn’t want to come off as annoyed or insulting; you knew that Roger had better things to do so close to the holiday rather than entertain you like this.

“Well, I was told that you love Santa, and since I look so much like him…”

You groaned, dropping your head to Roger’s shoulder.

“Look, I didn’t mean anything by it.” You assured him, hand on his chest.

Roger took your hand in his and kissed your knuckles softly.

“No need to explain, lovey.” Roger assured you. “You see, the big guy and I had a little talk. He said he’s not too sure which list to put you on this year. You’ve been awfully nice in more ways than he could tell me. Still, the amount of times you’ve been naughty nearly outweighs the good.

Roger’s hand ghosted up your thigh, slipping underneath the hem of your dress.

“So, he’s given me the task of submitting the final rating.” Roger’s tongue was pleasantly pinned between his teeth as soon as he revealed his motive.

You had to admit - he was playing the part exceptionally well. He was looking so incredibly suave in his suit, even with the hat he wore for dramatic effect. His beard was snowy white, probably a result of a good scrubbing in the shower before you arrive. All that was missing was Roger’s reader glasses, which made a rare appearance every few months. The man was blind but refused to wear them. You weren’t quite sure of what his intentions were, but Roger was successful in coming off a hot version of Santa.

“Doesn’t Santa know that whenever I’m with daddy that I’m usually very naughty?” Your hands smoothed over Roger’s shoulders as you hiked your leg over his thigh and straddled his lap.

“I did my best to explain that to him, but he didn’t seem bothered by it. ” Roger shrugged sympathetically as his placed his hands at your waist.

“Well… I’m going to think of it this way.” You squeezed Roger’s shoulders and rolled your hips against his, earning a breathless sigh from him. “If you tell him nice, then I get a present or two. If you say naughty, I get nothing. Right?”

“I would assume it goes a little bit like that, yeah.” Roger sputtered, his fingers toying with the tie of your dress.

“I think you’ve given me enough in the past year to last me the next few Christmases.” You explained, brushing your lips against Roger’s.

“Right.” Roger accepted after failing to chase your lips. “You sure that you don’t even want to attempt to earn a spot on the nice list?”

“Nah.” You decided, pulling the tie of your dress loose. “Being nice is overrated.”

You let the dress fall from your shoulders as you worked the sleeves off, revealing a black lingerie set. It was lacy but mostly transparent, just as Roger liked. Your stockings were held up by a garter belt, practically begging to be undone by Roger’s deft fingers. Rogers hands went to your bum, kneading the flesh that remained exposed thanks to your skimpy panties. With a grunt, Roger stood with you in his arms and urged you to wrap your legs around him.

“What are you doing?” You questioned, playfully nipping at Roger’s earlobe.

“Well, if you’re accepting of naughty, then I’m going to give you a proper lay.”

Roger carried you to the master bedroom and set you down on the cushy mattress. He shrugged off his jacket and quickly unbuttoned his shirt, peeling the sleeves off and dropping it to the floor. He leaned over you and kissed you with a fervor that was strictly reserved for these moments. Just as you settled into the kiss, Roger moved his lips to your collarbone, playfully sucking and biting your skin.

“Careful; I don’t want have to explain any foreign marks to anyone over the next few days.

Roger chuckled, his hand reaching to spread your legs and run his fingers over your clothed core. You whimpered in response, which brought a heartier laugh from his mouth.

“I’ll be sure to place them in more strategic places - like under your tits or along your inner thighs.”

If you knew anything about Roger Meadows Taylor, he was a man of his word. Your hands made a mess of his hair as he kissed and nibbled his way down your body. He was particularly cruel when he nudged his nose against your clit. You silent cursed the thin piece of fabric that stood as a barrier between your skin and his, tugging gently on the tuffs of hair at the nape of his neck.

“Daddy… I need you.” You whined, letting out a frustrated huff that vibrated through your chest.

“My girl’s so needy for someone who seemed so satisfied with receiving no gifts this year. “ Roger teased as he unhooked the garter straps from your stockings.

“Yeah, well… Just because Santa’s not coming down my chimney this year doesn’t mean that you can’t.” You retorted, ridding yourself of your bra.

“You’re filthy.” Roger snickered as he pulled your stockings down your legs, followed by your underwear.

“Good thing I didn’t vow to be nice then, hm?” You quirked your eyebrow at Roger, undoing his belt and popping the button his dress pants.

“Touche.” Roger punctuated his response by licking a stripe up your pussy.

The best part of sex with Roger was how worked up he was able to make you with little-to-no effort whatsoever. Your panties were soaked just from some playful touches and a series of love bites. The bastard was good, and it was one of many reasons that you stuck around.

Roger kicked off his pants and boxers in one go, taking his cock in his hand. He gave himself a few tugs before he lined up with your entrance and gently entered you. You relished in the melodic sighs of pleasure that left both of your lips upon contact. Roger stretched you deliciously, waiting until you’d taken every last inch before placing a kiss to your lips. He distracted you just enough to pull nearly all the way out and thrust back in again. You cried out loudly, thankful to be found underneath a drummer with soundproof walls.

A pleasant rhythm was developed quickly before you began moving your hips with Roger’s. It didn’t take long for him to find the perfect spot.

“Fuck - Daddy… right there.” you instructed, and Roger obeyed.

Your legs wrapped around Roger’s waist, linking at the ankles as you clenched around his length, causing him to falter and groan against the skin between your breasts.

“I’m not going to last if you keep that up, baby girl.” Roger warned, but you took it as a challenge.

“Then don’t.” You laughed breathlessly, moving your hips quickly against his, chasing your orgasm as you fought to give Roger his. “Come for me, daddy…”

“Fuck…” Roger’s tongue flicked against his fingers before they found a place between your bodies, tightly circling your clit.

Your orgasm washed over you without warning, both your muscles and legs clenching around Roger. With the ounce of coherency that you held onto, you released that Roger was coming too. It was the first time the two of you had ever come in tandem. You did your best to fuck each other through your aftershocks, but gave up shortly after. Roger was happy to let you rest against his chest as you came down, pressing a kiss to your temple before using his fingers to tilt your chin upwards so he could kiss your lips.

You smiled at Roger when he separated from the kiss and then bashfully hid your face against his chest. He took that moment to ease out of you, which caused you to hiss at the sudden absence of him inside of you. It was one of the best feelings that you’d ever known, and you always missed it as soon as it left you. Roger combed his fingers through your hair and sighed before sitting up a little bit.

“You’ve certainly earned your title of naughty, baby girl.” Roger gloated, his fingers tracing a light bruise that had formed near your shoulder.

“I can always try for the nice list next year.”

“For my sake, I hope you’ll reconsider.”

You and Roger laughed and shared another kiss before you finally rolled off of him. You found a comfortable position sitting up against the headboard and snuggling under the covers. Roger got up from the bed and stepped into his boxers.

“Oh, I nearly forgot.” Roger said as he snapped his fingers.

You looked over at Roger, your eyelids droopy from being spent. “Hm?”

“The jolly dude - He wanted me to tell you that he loves you, too.”

You grinned at that, your eyes struggling to stay open. “Yeah?”

Roger nodded, leaning over you in bed to kiss your forehead. “Definitely.”

[ger-bearofrivia]

Be Broken or be Brave 💌

Warning: angst, there is mentions of verbal and physical abuse, also child neglect.

A/N:This is my very first The witcher fic and my spelling is atrocious so sorry about that. I hope you enjoy! :)

Summary: Jaskier comes from a wealthy family who arranged a marriage with someone whom he isn’t in love with. Instead he is in love with his friend who is of lower class. These two have been together secretly for a while but they cannot let his family know. Jaskier being the youngest of five kids (all boys may I add) tends to get bullied by his brothers about his lanky looks. Compared to his brothers they who were more muscularly built and has very defined features, everyone seems to think they are more attractive. Because he got the short straw of the bunch his parents think he will never find love thus arranging this marriage. They even throw him a huge party to announce the engagement.  He always knew it more to spite him and to show their accomplishment of finding someone who would want to be with Jaskier.

He knew what his parents were doing, setting up this big fancy ball just so he can announce an unwanted marriage, with a person who he did not love, to people who he really didn’t care about. The only person that mattered to him was the girl who was standing within the crowd intently staring at him with a small smile tugged at her lips. She looked absolutely jaw dropping gorgeous tonight. Wearing a simple dress that accents her beauty rather than drown her in fancy beading and embroidery.

 She was not of the same social class as the rest of the people in the room, and just being friends with her, made Jaskier’s family scrunch their snotty uptight faces up in disgust. But that never stopped you two from being friends, in fact it brought you two even closer. So close that the both of you were secretly in love, and have been for a number of years, constantly sneaking off to be with your forbidden lover. Your parents unlike Jaskier’s actually adored him and saw him as a son. Being with your family actually showed him what it was like to be loved. Not like some castaway like his family made him feel. 

From a young age his parents made it known to him that he was a mistake, a product of accidental conception and knowingly allowed his four older brothers to torture him both verbally and physically. How many days he had to escape and limp his way to your house for aid because Charles punched him too hard leaving a huge black bruise on his ribs or Martin telling the whole school that he was a late bloomer and hadn’t lost his virginity yet (which you know from a fact is not true.) The worst he’s ever told you was when Sebastian and Emiel pinned him down on to the bed and suffocated him to near death with a pillow. All this was slid under the carpet by their parents, hell you come to think that they’d even encourage it at times. He was always told that he’d never find love and he’d have to depend on them on fining a suitor for him. Which led to this very day at the ball. When you walked into the room and the Viscountess saw you, she immediately chuckles sticking her nose in the air and whispered insults about how you were more dressed to be in the peasants quarters rather than her sons engagement ball. 

Once he escaped the grasp of his parents who were introducing him to loads of people he would never remember the names of, he makes his way over you, his smile growing wider with every step. “you look beautiful my love.” He whispered as he took your hand and spun you around. You thanked him laughing as this was a common thing he did when complementing you. “Words can’t fathom how much I want to kiss those lips of yours right now.” He whined. 

“I know my love, I do too, but we can’t you know that.” He lets out another whine. 

“one day I’m going to have you all to myself with no family, random people, or fake wife. Just us two by the coast, having luncheons on the beach as I try to teach you how to play the lute.”

“And get frustrated because I can’t get my fingers to stay in the right positions but all in all we laugh it off like the other hundred times you tied to teach me. Maybe you’ll have luck with our kids?”

“Of course I’ll have luck with them they are my kids after all. I’ll teach them everything from how to play the lute, singing, songwriting. They’re going to be amazing”

You laugh again. “yes well create the cutest musical geniuses that the continent has ever seen”you’ve always loved how he’s talked about your future together it melted  your heart. “How I want that life right now.”

He sighs “I know my beloved we’ll have it soon enough.” He pulls you into a quick hug planting an ever so needed kiss onto your neck. There was a sudden tapping on a glass that caught everyone’s attention. 

“It is now time for my son to make the all awaited announcement .” The viscount said. Julien let out a sigh of frustration before turning back to you. 

“Soon we’ll have our paradise my love but for now I gotta go.” You gave him an assuring nod. He walks up to his father standing next to him. You pushed through the crowd to get a clear view n the front.

“I Julian Alfred Pankratz will not take Lizanne Waldtraut to be my wife. I Instead would like to ask y/n to take her place.” You look at him with shock. 

"Mother, father you can disown me how ever you’d like, but I will not take anymore torment  from this family on who you want me to be. Instead I will decide my future for who I am.  I know where my heart belongs and that’s with y/n, she makes me feel  more loved than this family ever did. Unlike you she encourages me to challenge myself. What do you do? You bring me down and say I’ll never live up to my goals. That I’m practically worthless compared to my brothers and that you have to choose a career for me because I’ll never get anywhere in life with the career of music." 

"Julian” you pause tears in your eyes. He turns back to you and spoke softly so no one but you could hear. 

“My love I want to spend the rest of my life with you. We don’t need any of my families blood money. We can find a little cottage in a nice village on the coast close enough for your family to come visit. Just like we always dreamt of”

“How would we pay fo…” He cuts you off taking your hands and squeezing then assuringly. 

“We can use the money I’ve been saving up from gigs I’ve played.” 

You sniffle a bit and he smiles wiping away some tears. “Are you sure? You’ve worked so hard for that money” 

“I haven’t been sure about a lot of things in my 18 years of life but this.” He gestures to the both of you “what we have is special. You mean so much to me and I want to make you feel the same even if it takes the rest of my life.”

“You already do my love. Every day I get to spend with you is a blessing.””

“Will you y/f/n of Redania do me the godly honor and be my wife?” He gets down on one knee and opens the small wooden box that held his grandmothers ring. His mother lets out a ghastly gasp.  

“How did you get your grandmother’s ring! That was supposed to be saved for Sebastian’s proposal, not yours!” 

“Grandmother personally gave it to me. It was her dying wish to see this family heirloom to go to the right person.” he paused. “You know she was the only one in this family that saw how bad you treated me compared to my siblings. She said that she doesn’t understand what she did wrong to raise such an entitled bitch like you.” She gasped agin this time whipping her hand across his cheek causing the guests around you to be flabbergasted. Julians hand came up to rub the hot aching skin. 

“Get your grimy little paws off this ring.” She snatched it out of his hands handing it to her husband. “This was never meant for you. And to think I decided to keep you. You were a mistake and I should have gotten rid of you the second I found out I was pregnant with you. You abomination of a child of course you’d fall in love with a peasant like her. You two were made for each other. Leave the both of you I never want to see either of you ever again!” She signaled for the guards to come. Before they could take you held out your hand stopped them from touching you. You had no words to explain how furious you were with this family. The fact that no one had stopped her from saying those horrid things made you think that everyone who attended the gathering should rot in hell. These people who Julian had thought were his friends who he had grown up with just allowed her to say that with not a care in the world. Fake, false, arrogant rats was all that ran through your head as you walked up to the viscountess and threw a punch with force that you didn’t know you had. Blood runs down her chin, your vision was blurred, the punch felt too good, anger and the need for revenged pumped through your veins as you lift your hand again but this time you were stoped by the guards who grabbed your arms and dragged you out of the ballroom while you screamed profanities at them. Julian following closely behind. The doors of the manor slammed as you and Julian stood outside of what used to be his home. Looking over at him he looked almost unfazed about what happened.

“Julian I’m so sorry you had to go through that.” 

“No, no it’s okay my love. I’ve developed quite the thick skin dealing with there bullshit for years.” He tried to hide the pain and sadness in his voice. You knew that was a lie. He was always more of the sensitive type that always took criticism and harsh swords to heart. Usually you knew how to make him feel better but in this situation you just feel lost.  “ honestly I expected the mass humiliation from her but definitely not the punch. Not gonna lie it was kind of hot” you let out a small laugh. 

“Yeah well all I could see was red. How dare she do that to someone.” You sadly look down tears running down your face when you remembered the gorgeous ring he had briefly given to you. “The ring Julian I’m so sorry about the ring. That demon spawn took the only thing left that you had left of your grandmother.” You looked up at him with sad eyes. Surprisingly he had a look of content on his face. 

“She didn’t get anything. I had a cheep exact replica made. I have the real one right here to fulfill my grandmother’s doting wish” he pulled out a small wooden box with beautiful engravings on it while getting down on one knee. “I’m not going to say anything else to delay this any longer than it already has. Y/f/n will you marry me?” 

You break down crying nodding like a mad man. “Yes. I will marry you Julian”

“Good because I can’t wait to make you my wife.” He kisses you pulling away to look you in the eyes. “Now let’s go show your family.” You both walk away from the manor mot looking back. He wraps an arm around your shoulders and you intertwined your fingers. He pecks your temple before raising his free arm up and said. “Im free!”

[apparentlynotreallyfinnish]

Prompt: compliment battle turns heated.

A had this whole vision for this prompt and the fic became quite long and slow burny. Thanks for the prompt! ^^

—

They were at the Mythical set facing each other. There was a small podium between them with their GMM mugs and their cue cards on top of it. Behind them was a large pink hued banner the art department had painted with bright red cursive: “Compliment Battle”. They were shooting for the Valentine’s Day week and all of the episodes followed a theme of fluffy feelgood. Rhett was leaning against the podium, flipping through his cards. He was buzzing with nervous energy. He tried to convince himself that all of this was just for the show. It wasn’t real, not really. Except it kind of was, his brain rebelled. The writers had been adamant. They’d wanted real stuff, because the fans wanted real stuff. That was the lifeblood of their show, the real moments of their chemistry and friendship. So, it had been decided that they would write the compliments themselves. That way, they would be sincere.

Link looked so relaxed in front of Rhett. He was chatting with Stevie about the next episode. His card stack was untouched. No fidgeting, no nervous energy. Rhett wondered if the task had been easy for him. It should have been easy for Rhett. He loved everything about Link. Well, almost everything, he thought, imagining the horrid sounds his jaw made as he chewed on his cereal. But definitely enough to fill a whole book of compliments. The problem was that he didn’t exactly want to advertise that. His feelings for Link were, to say the least, complicated. It had started slow. When he thought back on it, he mused there might have been early twinges as far back as college. But the realization hadn’t sunk in until about a year ago. And after it had, life had been hard for Rhett.

“Okay, let’s get this show on the road!” Stevie hollered, clapping her hands together. Everyone took their places. Link leaned against the podium and looked at Rhett with a smirk.

“Are you ready to be decimated?” he asked with a wink. Rhett’s knees threatened to buckle under him and he thanked the Lord for the podium. He managed to plaster a somewhat nonchalant smile on his face and answered:

“Nope. Just letting you know now, Neal. You’re going down.”

There was a strange flash in Link’s eyes but his smile didn’t falter. “Oh, don’t make promises you can’t keep,” he said, voice dripping with danger. Rhett felt a heat rising to his neck. He willed the feeling away with a hard swallow. Cameras were rolling.

“Which one of us is going to be the king of compliments?”

“Let’s talk about that!”

Link was explaining the rules to the cameras. They were to say one compliment each while maintaining eye contact and then a panel of crew members would vote whose compliment was better. The one who got to 5 points first would win. The loser would have to write a love letter to the other one that would be published on social media. There was a catch, of course, voted by the Mythical Society. At every round, they had to touch other. The touch points were decided ahead of time and they would find out about them at the start of each round. As Link spoke, Rhett kept fiddling with his cards. The nervous energy was making him curl into himself. He tried to keep his smile up for the cameras, but in his head he was freaking out. It manifested physically too. He was hunching his shoulders, making himself smaller, desperately trying to escape a situation he couldn’t leave from.

The first touch point was revealed to be hands. Rhett let out a small relieved sigh. They’d held hands many times before on the show and it meant their bodies could be far apart. Link quickly took his hands on his own and quibbled something about them being sweaty like always. Rhett awkwardly laughed it off. Link’s eyes were trained on his.

“You grill a mean steak,” Link said with a tiny smirk. Rhett almost laughed out loud. Link was being shady. The statement sounded like an actual complement but Rhett knew what Link was referencing. Just last weekend, Rhett had managed to burn their steaks when he got too wrapped up in a conversation.

“Oh, that is so sweet,” he replied, voice honeyed and sweet. “I like how tidy and neat you are. Makes my life sooo much easier.”

Link pursed his lips together before making a tsk-sound with his tongue. “I’m glad you like it. At least one of us understands the importance of cleanliness.” His answer was as falsely sweet as Rhett’s had been. They let their hands fall and waited for the judgment. Link’s burn wasn’t as obvious to outsiders as Rhett’s so Link got the first point.

Second round’s touch point was elbows. They laughed at the silliness of it before bending their arms and poking their elbows together. Someone made a joke about just the tips touching and there was raucous laughter. It was Rhett’s turn to start.

“You are so good with the children. It’s amazing how easy it is for you to lower yourself to their level,” Rhett said with mock sincerity. Link laughed a hollow laugh and said, “You take direction well. I never have to say anything to you twice.”

Rhett grimaced at him and titterings of laughter broke out amongst the crew. Everyone knew Rhett was often in his head and needed constant repetition and reminding. It was obvious that this round would go to Rhett. He started to wonder if all of Link’s so-called compliments were going to be veiled insults. Rhett’s weren’t and things could get awkward fast if he’d misread the way people wanted the episode to go.

Next round’s touch point was toes. They tried to evade the rule by pushing just one of their feet together but the crew called them out on it and soon they were standing inches apart, all of their toes touching. Link’s breath felt warm on Rhett’s neck and he started to get nervous again. They were so close already. How could he deal with the following rounds? It was bound to get worse. Link wiggled his toes and made Rhett laugh. He looked at his best friend and saw a question in his eyes.

“I’m fine,” he muttered an answer, both thankful and embarrassed for Link’s concern. “It’s your turn. Better make it good this time,” he continued louder.

“I like that you are always prepared for the worst. It means I don’t have to be.”

Rhett nodded. It was almost a compliment. It might have alluded to his propensity to stock up for the upcoming apocalypse but there was something heartfelt about the way Link said it.

“You’re very detail-oriented. I like it because it lets me concentrate on the big picture. It’s nice to have someone who balances you out.”

Link smiled warmly at him. They’d talked about this a lot. It was one of the things that made them work together so well. Link’s eyes shined bright behind his glasses and suddenly, it was hard to breathe. Rhett’s mind took a running start and started to fantasize. If Rhett dipped his head down just a bit, he could kiss Link. He could wrap his arms around him. He could let his hands drop down and grab the back of Link’s thighs and pull him up, make him wrap his legs around his body and take him to the desk as he nibbled his neck and… Rhett jerked back to reality as Link’s elbow sunk into his side. Link’s eyes were on his, looking at him quizzically. Rhett smiled at him shaking his head slightly, trying to convey that he’d just been preoccupied as usual. Rhett was awarded the point for this round too.

Round four had them press their knees together. The position was awkward and Rhett could instantly feel a pinch in his back. He must have made a face, because Link’s brow furrowed with concern.

“You okay there, man?” he asked, voice low.

“Yeah, just…let’s do this one quickly,” Rhett answered and looked at the cameras. “Ready for round four? Okay. Link, I like how comfortable you are with yourself. You don’t care what other people think. You’re just you. Pure and simple.” The uncomfortable position made it impossible to put on an act or a voice. The compliment was sincere and sounded like that too. There were a few awww’s from the crew. Link smiled at him fondly. There was no need to hold hands in this round but Link took Rhett’s hands in his own anyway before saying, “I’m really impressed with your personal growth in these past few years. With the therapy and all. I feel so much more closer to you because of it.”

Rhett swallowed and felt a welling in his tear ducts. Not on camera, please, he pleaded silently with himself. His eyes glazed a bit, but thankfully no actual tears were shed. With a pained grunt, he got up from their hunched positions. They turned to listen to the debate over who got the point. As they stood there, Rhett felt Link’s fingers press against his back and slowly massage the exact spot that pained him. He almost moaned out loud. The relief Link’s skilled fingers brought to him made him melt. His concentration shifted. Everything around him dimmed away and all he felt was those fingers. Equally strong and gentle, Link knew exactly how to touch him. Rhett couldn’t help thinking if his touch would be as perfect on other parts of his body. Mainly the one that was rousing in his boxers right now. He missed the winner of the round.

“It appears we have a tie,” Link smirked at the cameras. The delicious pressure on Rhett’s back vanished with one final caress. He almost whined at the loss. His eyes shot to Link, but Link was looking elsewhere. Fifth round’s touch point was announced with a fanfare: bellybuttons. Rhett swallowed and looked for support in Link’s eyes, but he seemed to be skirting his gaze. They got some laughs as Rhett tried to fold his body down to get their bellies to touch. He ached still but it was mainly from the need to be touched again. When they were positioned correctly, Link finally brought his eyes back to Rhett. Rhett almost stepped back in surprise. Something had changed in Link’s gaze. There was intenseness in it that made Rhett’s stomach flip.

“I love your laugh,” Link simply said. A fire roared in Rhett’s belly. He took a deep breath and tried to remember his line. He couldn’t. His mind was a complete blank. His eyes roamed Link’s features and settled on his hair.

“I….um….I love the gray in your hair. It suits you. Makes you look all distinguished and hot. It also reminds me of all the years we’ve spent together.” The words poured out of him before he could think them through. Hot?! Wait, did he just call Link hot, in front of the crew, on film? Link’s eyes flashed and he stepped back. This time, he kept his distance. Rhett was panicking. He tried to keep it internal, making his face appear playful and fun with a wicked smirk and a wink to the camera. The judge panel was hooting and hollering. Rhett had won the point.

The score was 3 – 2 for Rhett. They went right ahead onto round six. The touch point was chests. Link was stubbornly looking at Rhett’s chin as they pressed their chests together. Rhett was certain Link could feel how hard his heart beat against his ribcage. He was sweating now. His gaze dropped to the point where their bodies touched. He could feel Link’s warmth radiating against him. It was his turn to start but Link was already speaking. Rhett’s eyes snapped up to his.

“Your eyes are gorgeous. It feels like every time I look at them, they’ve changed color. It’s like I get to discover you again every time I look at you,” Link’s voice turned into a whisper at the end of the sentence. Rhett couldn’t help the tiny gasp that broke out of him. It was the most romantic thing Link had ever said to him. He shook his head. No, Link was just playing the game. He wanted to win. Rhett turned to look at the camera.

“Jumping the gun there, Neal. It was my turn to start.”

Link just shrugged and stared at Rhett. His eyes looked strange. Almost glossy.

“You really work hard keeping yourself fit. For a forty-year-old guy, you look damn good,” Rhett said. He could see Link’s Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. Their eyes were glued together. The judge panel was deliberating already, but they hadn’t moved from their touch point position. Link’s right hand rose slowly and his fingers ran along Rhett’s arm, from his bicep down onto his fingertips.

“You don’t look so bad yourself,” Link whispered. There was no smirk on his face. No indication that he was joking. Heat coiled into Rhett’s belly. He was glad it was their chests that were touching. It meant their crotch areas were farther apart and there was no way for Link to feel the problem that was still rising in his pants.

“The next touch point is…hips,” Stevie’s voice sounded from the distance. Rhett jerked back from Link.

“Wait, what?” he asked, mouth suddenly dry.

“Hips,” Stevie repeated. “Both hip bones touching, don’t even think about just standing side to side.”

“Who won the last round?” Link asked looking dazed.

“You did. It’s a tie again. On to round seven.”

Rhett was trembling. He evoked every disgusting thought he could to quell his erection. He looked at Link, hoping to get some support. Maybe they could take a break. Link looked as miserable as he did. What if he knew already? A chill ran through Rhett. What if he knew and was disgusted?

“Ahh…Stevie, could we take a little break?” Rhett asked.

“We’re almost done, Rhett. It’s late. We should just push through,” Stevie said voice a bit strained, not even lifting her eyes from her pad. Rhett sighed and looked back at Link who shrugged at him looking agonized. They inched closer. As their bodies touched lightly, Link drew a sharp breath and looked away from the camera. Rhett’s gaze followed him and he read the silent words from Link’s lips: “I’m sorry.” He was confused. Why was Link apologizing?

Link’s hip bones were sharp against Rhett’s. At first, that was all he felt. He tried to breathe evenly, tried to dampen the need to press his throbbing erection hard against Link’s lithe body. Then suddenly, the apology started to make sense. He felt something twitch against him. Link was hard too. Rhett’s eyes whipped to Link’s. Link looked up at him, smiling weakly. Rhett’s mouth was hanging open, his breath coming out in ragged puffs. Link’s cheeks were blotchy red and his hands trembled slightly.

“Any day now, boys,” Stevie prompted. Rhett cleared his throat but Link was faster again.

“I love your legs. How long they are. You look so gangly and sweet. And strong. Like, your thigh muscles make me weak at the knees. I dream about touching you like this,” Link spoke quickly, voice so low Rhett wasn’t certain the mikes could pick it up. As Link spoke, his fingers landed on Rhett’s thighs and made little twirls on the sides of his legs. Rhett bucked into him, pressing their straining cocks against each other. Both of them gasped. Rhett steadied himself by taking a hold of Link’s waist.

“I love how small your waist is. Wrapping myself around you like this makes me feel big. Touching you like this makes me feel all kinds of other things too,” Rhett leaned over to murmur the words into Link’s ear as he was pressing them harder together. Link whined quietly. His hands rose up to Rhett’s shoulders. He grabbed on, like he was hanging on for his dear life. Maybe he was. Rhett felt it too. There was a shift between them. The earth was parting between them and they were stepping into the opening crevice together. Rhett’s stomach dropped and he said loudly:

“Touch point.”

“We haven’t awarded the point ye…” Stevie objected.

“Touch point!”

“Forehead,” Stevie relented.

Rhett pressed his forehead against Link’s. His hands didn’t let go of his waist, though. Link was squirming slightly, making their cocks rub against each other. Rhett felt a dampened spot on his boxers, he was leaking already. He bit his lip and closed his eyes for a second before looking at Link and whispering:

“You have the most beautiful lips I’ve ever seen. If I could get a just one kiss and suck on that bottom lip of yours, I could die a happy man.”

Link moaned aloud and crashed into him. His lips were as perfect as Rhett had imagined. Soft and supple. Rhett licked them feverishly and sucked on Link’s bottom lip with a growl. Link’s hands moved to Rhett’s neck and burrowed into his hair tugging at it desperately. He was moaning into Rhett’s mouth, rutting his crotch against Rhett making him feel out of breath and dizzy with need.

“Cut! Everybody out!” Stevie’s voice pierced Rhett’s hazy brain for a second. He was grateful. There was a scramble of people around them. Rhett didn’t stop to wait for everyone to leave. Link’s lips parted and their tongues twisted into each other. Rhett groaned and lifted Link onto the desk. Link’s legs wrapped around Rhett.

“Oh my god,” someone gasped and then, finally, the set quieted around them. The door closed with a thud.

“Rhett,” Link moaned. “Fuck me.”

[pikapeppa]

Piper Lavellan: Luck of the Law

@schoute and I have been obsessed with our modern bartender AU for WEEKS, and I now have the pleasure of introducing the first chapter of a Piper Lavellan/Cullen fic set in the same world! 

`This little prologue is the tale of how Piper came to be in Kirkwall. Art is by @schoute. Read here on AO3.

For @dadrunkwriting Friday.

Piper stared blearily at the swirling blood in the sink.

Another drop of blood joined the sanguine vortex as it spiralled down the drain. Piper pressed the damp paper towel to the bloody mess of her eyebrow and lifted her gaze to the mirror.

Fucking perfect, she thought. The gash that bisected her left eyebrow was a nice counterpoint to the cut that split the right side of her lip. And then there was the bloody nose, which was nicely complemented by the dark circles under her eyes.

She heaved a sigh and leaned heavily against the sink. How could she have been so naive? She stared intently at her reflection until she’d memorized every bloody bruise.

Well, I won’t be making this fucking mistake again, she thought bitterly. Her now-marred face would be a good reminder of this.

*******************

The problem was that it had all started so well. Piper had met Maara, Duncan, and Peronn a few months ago at an underground show in Ansburg that she’d heard about in her travels, and they’d immediately hit it off. Making friends at shows was always easy, music being the great unifier, but there had been something especially inviting about these three.

Especially about Peronn. He was the definition of charm from the moment they bumped into each other at the bar.

He leaned in close and pressed his arm against hers. “What’s a nice place like you doing in a girl like this?” he yelled over the music.

She smirked at him. “Did you seriously just quote Deadpool at me?”

He raised his eyebrows appreciatively and leaned his elbow on the bar. “A girl who knows Deadpool well enough to recognize quotes. I knew I liked you.”

A warm feeling bloomed in her belly, and Piper laughed and dropped her eyes. This guy was handsome, and it had been a while since her last one-night stand.

She coyly lifted her gaze back to his face. “So. What other lines have you got for me?” she asked.

He gave her a roguish half-smile. “Lines? Me? I would never. But you’ve got some nice lines.” He reached out and ran his thumb along her tattooed cheekbone. “I like your vallaslin,” he shouted.

She raised her eyebrows in surprise. “Are you Dalish?” she asked. She’d assumed he wasn’t, since his elven face was bare.

Sure enough, he shook his head. “Nah. City-bred and born. But my gran was Dalish. Is Dalish, I guess. But you wear your blood writing better than her.”

Piper wrinkled her nose. “Did you just compliment me and insult your gran in the same breath?”

He threw his head back and laughed. “All right, you’ve got me. Let me buy you a drink to make up for it.”

Piper giggled, then pushed back the mass of her silvery hair. “All right. I never say no to a drink.”

And she didn’t, not for the rest of the night. Peronn eventually led her back to the table he was sharing with Maara and her boyfriend Duncan, and he kept the drinks flowing all night, gallantly ignoring Piper’s pleading attempts to pay him back.

At some point during the night, Piper became relaxed enough to give up the attempts. “Ahh, I should just thank you and shut the fuck up,” she yelled to Peronn as she leaned into his shoulder. “I’m trying to save up for a bike. Haven’t really got the money to spare for drinks anyway.”

“A bike?” Maara asked. “Like… a bicycle-bike? Because those are super easy to jack, you know.”

Duncan tsked and pinched her arm, and Piper snorted with laughter. “No no, a motorcycle. A Kawasaki ZX-10R, to be exact.” She sighed dreamily as Peronn slid his arm around her waist. “I’ve almost got enough money for it. I just need a couple thousand more. I’d rather have a bike than a place to live, you know? Rent is the worst. It’s like throwing your money in the garbage. Give me a bike and I’ll make my home anywhere.”

“Wait,” Peronn yelled. “You don’t have a place to stay?”

Piper shook her head. “I’m a nomad,” she yelled back. “I float along on the wind. I’m like a dandelion seed.” She sipped her whiskey. In truth, the couchsurfing lifestyle was starting to wear on her. She’d loved it at first, when she’d first left her clan after her father had died. Back when she’d wanted nothing more than to be alone and away from the whole Dalish respect-the-gods bullshit. But… well, being alone all the time and spending every night in a different place was maybe a little bit more overrated than Piper was letting on.

“Stay with us!” Maara said.

Piper looked up from her drink. “What?”

Maara’s pretty face was open and friendly. “You can stay with us,” she repeated. “We’ve got a really comfortable couch.”

“Or a really comfortable futon, if you don’t mind… sharing,” Peronn added.

Piper looked at him. His smile was broad and his baby-blue eyes were warm, and a little leap of anticipation hopped in her belly.

She looked at Maara again. “Are you sure? I mean, you don’t even know me…” Her gaze flicked over to Duncan. He was frowning slightly, and the last thing Piper wanted was to be an imposition.

“We’re sure,” Maara said. She looked up at Duncan. “Right, D?”

Duncan shrugged. “Yeah,” he said. “Of course.” He glanced at Peronn.

Peronn ran his hand along Piper’s back. “Good,” he said. Then he leaned in close to her ear. “Want another drink? Or would you rather go home?”

She shivered happily at the brush of his lips, and at the word home. It had been so long since she felt like she’d had one. Not that she was assuming Peronn’s apartment would become her home or anything. “Whatever you want,” she shouted.

Peronn smiled, and Piper felt it against her skin. Then he straightened and held out his hand. “Come on, Pip,” he yelled. “I’ll give you the grand tour.”

As it turned out, the grand tour started and ended with Peronn’s futon - not that Piper was at all upset about this. The surprising part was that the whole arrangement ended up lasting longer than the one night. To Piper’s intense gratitude, Peronn and the others insisted she stay with them rent-free for as long as she wanted to, and Piper didn’t have enough pride to say no. After all, who was she to turn down a place to stay, and friends who were so kind as to invite her to stay indefinitely?

After over a year of making her own solitary way across the continent, Piper was enjoying the novelty of settling into a steady routine. What had started as a casual crash with friends had become a real home - the first she’d had since leaving her clan. And what had started as a casual hook-up had turned into a real relationship: the first she’d ever really had.

The living arrangements weren’t perfect; Maara and Duncan and Peronn had few belongings beyond their laptops and their basic furniture, so it wasn’t the coziest of apartments. Furthermore, Peronn’s futon was hilariously lumpy, and it took Piper threatening to buy him a bed before he finally stepped up and bought one for himself - a second-hand one, to be sure, but a bed was a bed, and they made very good use of it.

The constant trickle of visitors that Peronn and Maara and Duncan got was strange as well. All kinds of people traipsed in and out at all hours of the day and night. They never seemed to stay for more than a drink or a chat, and though they were mostly friendly, even Piper - with her chatty nature - wasn’t able to learn much more about them than their names or how her roommates knew them: a friend from the gym, a girl Duncan met at the library, a friend’s cousin who was new in town.

But Piper didn’t mind. The rotating parade of company was interesting, and her friends were a lot of fun. And importantly, with a stable place to stay, she was making decent money. She’d quickly found a job working as a courier for a local restaurant, and within a couple months she’d gotten a raise. She was only a few paychecks away from getting that dreamy Kawasaki that she’d been eyeing for years - a dream that finally seemed attainable. Sure, it would clear out all of her savings, but it would be paid in full and it would be hers.

I make my own luck, Piper always liked to say. And finally, after a solid year of meandering around Thedas and scraping together cash by skipping meals and crashing on couches, it looked like Piper’s luck was finally turning around.

***********************

Piper drummed her fingers impatiently on the bank counter. The teller had stepped into the back to get more envelopes, and she knew she shouldn’t be acting so antsy; the teller was being more than helpful, and Piper had already waited for more than two weeks for her banking forms to get processed so she could take out the thirty grand she needed. But now that she was here, and her Kawasaki was so close she could almost taste it, she could barely contain her rapidly fraying patience.

Peronn gave her arm a squeeze. “Easy there, Pip. The bike will still be there tomorrow.”

Piper wrinkled her nose and nudged him with her elbow. “I know, I know. But can you blame a girl for being excited? Besides,” she said, “I already have to wait a whole night before I can go and get my bike. A whole night! I’m already raring to go, it’s not fair…” She stomped her leather-booted feet on the floor and pouted at Peronn.

He chuckled and slung his arm around her neck. “Ah, don’t worry. We’ll get you good and drunk at Chora’s Den, and the night’ll fly by, and next thing you know, you’ll be picking up your bike. You’ll probably be too hungover to ride it home, though.” He snickered.

Piper punched him playfully in the belly. “Real helpful, Per. Thanks.”

At long last, the bank teller came out from the back, and Piper watched in high anticipation as she carefully packed her money into an envelope. At long last, the teller slid the envelope across the counter.

“All right, love, there you are,” the teller said. She gave Piper a stern and motherly look. “Be careful, now. It’s a dangerous road out there, you hear?”

Peronn snorted softly; Piper hadn’t been able to resist blurting her motorcycle aspirations to the teller when they’d arrived.

Piper ignored him and nodded eagerly. “I’ll be careful, don’t worry,” she chirped. With slightly trembling hands, she took the precious packet from the smiling teller.

She and Peronn left the bank, and Peronn gave her a noisy kiss on the cheek. “Congratulations, Pip,” he announced. “You’re more than halfway there.”

She grinned and happily wrapped her arm around his waist. He was right. Collecting this much cash had been the hardest part. In less than twelve hours, she’d have the one thing she’d most wanted ever since her father had died: a way to fly across the world like the curious adventurer her father had always encouraged her to be.

At that moment, her phone chirped in her pocket, and she pulled it out to find a text from Maara.

7:21pm - where tf r u guys??? 7:21pm - hurry up and get here im so excited for u!! 7:21pm - SHOTS SHOTS SHOTS SHOTS SHOTS SHOTS ERYBODY

Piper snorted with laughter. With a surge of excited happiness, she darted around behind Peronn and jumped onto his back.

He laughed as he hooked his arms around her legs, and Piper wrapped her arms around her neck. “Come on,” she said cheerfully. “You’ll have to be my ride until I get my bike! Let’s go!”

Peronn snickered dirtily. “You can ride me anytime, Pip. Now let’s get you fucked up.”

********************

Duncan raised his shot glass. “Cheers to Piper, who is finally upgrading to a real vehicle like an adult and can shove that bike bell right up her-” “Hey, don’t be a dickhead!” Maara gave Duncan’s arm a slap, and the rest of their table burst into raucous laughter.

Piper raised her glass as well. “Cheers to good friends and shitty well whiskey!” she said cheerfully, then elbowed Maara. “You guys couldn’t even spring top shelf for me?”

Maara laughed, then leaned in close to Piper’s pointed ear. “You’re the one with all the cash, big spender,” she purred, then gave Piper a playful jab.

Piper chuckled and downed the shot, then hissed a breath through her teeth as Duncan waved to the waitress for another round. “Tastes fucking terrible, you assholes.”

Another eruption of laughter rose from their table, and Piper grinned as she basked in the perfection of the moment. As was always the case with their little foursome, one drink turned into three, and three swiftly multiplied into many more. It wasn’t long before Piper was properly sauced. Maara had insisted that this was by design, as this would be Piper’s last chance to get irresponsibly smashed before she’d have to drive herself home from the bars.

She wasn’t certain how much she’d had to drink or how long they’d been at Chora’s Den by the time she was stumbling into the alley behind the bar. It had started to rain, and Piper fumbled clumsily with her hood, struggling to get her inebriated fingers to cooperate.

She finally pulled her hood up over her unruly hair, and she smiled in triumph as her fumbling fingers lit a cigarette. She took a deep, satisfied drag and released it into the damp nighttime air, then briefly lifted her face to enjoy the rain on her heated cheeks.

A moment later, she heard the bar’s back door swinging open, and the loud sounds of laughter and music spilled out before the door slammed shut again. Piper smiled fuzzily as she took another pull of her cigarette. It was probably Peronn; he’d told her he would be right behind her.

She turned toward the door. “Hey you-”

The left side of her face collided with a fist. A starburst of white-hot pain burst across her vision, and the twin devils of alcohol and agony had her on the asphalt in a second.

Piper collapsed on her hands and knees, gasping in shock as the unforgiving ground scraped against her palms. Already she could feel a burn of pain rising from her battered browbone. Her ears were ringing, and everything was spinning, and that cheap-as-shit alcohol they’d been guzzling was absolutely no help.

“Wh-whathefuck…” she slurred. She tried shakily to push herself upright, and was met with a foot to her gut.

The air left her lungs with an ugly grunt, and she collapsed onto her shoulder and curled instinctively into a ball.

The contents of her stomach were curdling at the back of her throat. Through the haze of pain and disbelief, she heard a voice - a horribly familiar voice. “Just grab the cash, phone, and her keys.”

Peronn? No. There was no fucking way. He wouldn’t, not Peronn - they shared a bed together, he… he loved her. He’d even almost told her so one time. He wouldn’t. She was drunk, she was hearing things…

Piper dared to open her eyes, vaguely noting that the left one wouldn't quite open all the way.

She blinked hard and tried to take in the scene before her. Peronn and Maara were huddled together talking in low, urgent voices, and Duncan was crouching down beside her and reaching inside her jacket.

She tried to tuck her arm in closer to protect the precious envelope in her inside pocket. “Th’fuck are you doing?” she complained. “Some kind of sick fucking joke?”

She lamely tried to bat Duncan’s hand away, and was swiftly met with another fist to the face.

Piper recoiled at the impact. A warm wash of blood trickled over her upper lip, which was burning with the same kind of agony that had lit her left browbone on fire.

She choked out a weak little sob and feebly curled her arms over her head. Duncan pried the keys and phone from her pocket, and Piper whimpered in protest as he pulled her hard-won cash from her inner pocket.

Give it back, she thought, but the words wouldn’t come. Her throat was aching, and her head was pounding, and through the rising wave of realization - they fucked me over - Peronn’s smooth voice reached her ringing ears.

“No hard feelings, Pip.”

A swell of tears thickened at the back of her throat. The once-sweet term of endearment stung worse than the beating.

She struggled to sit upright. Maara and Duncan were already moving off, and Piper thought she could hear Maara saying something snide about ‘fucking Dalish bumpkins’, but she could barely take it in. Her dazed eyes drifted over Peronn’s dirty Converse sneakers, then slowly up his lanky body to his pitying smirk.  

“Why?” she croaked. Her voice sounded so small in her ears. She sounded so weak - fuck, she was so weak to ask - but she had to know.

He slowly crouched beside her. Despite the beating he’d clearly orchestrated, her stupid, drunken heart couldn’t help a little hopeful jolt.

Peronn ran his thumb along her swollen left cheek, then gave it a light slap, and Piper flinched at the strike. He was being so fucking cruel. Those long-fingered hands of his, hands that had once held her so tenderly… they felt like sandpaper on her skin.

Peronn casually rested his elbows on his knees and tilted his head. “We got into a little trouble. You know how it is. So thanks for the helping hand, yeah?”

Piper’s sodden mind was reeling. What kind of trouble? Was it… did it have to do with the people who were always coming through the apartment? Now that Piper thought about it, there were a lot of whispered, furtive conversations…

Gods, I’m such a fucking idiot. She should have guessed. She’d always known her friends - hah, friends - toed the line of the law, but…

But why didn’t they just ask for help? All they’d had to do was ask. All this for some fucking money that she would have been more than happy to lend them if they needed it. Had this been a setup from day one?

That thought was the one that hurt the most. The thought that all of this - the months she’d spent with them, that she’d spent with him, twisted together on that fucking futon of his -

Peronn rose to his feet and started to walk away, and Piper just… watched him go. Her usual sharp tongue had no witty remark, no snide comment; she couldn’t even form a complete sentence at the back of her muddled mind.

Just before he left the alley, Peronn glanced over his shoulder at her one last time. “Better luck next time, kid,” he said. Then he was gone.

Luck. Fucking luck. Of course he had to throw her own stupid little motto back at her. At that thought, her swollen face crumpled with misery and not a little pain.

Her tears were scalding, adding further to the discomfort of her split and bloodied lip. Piper let her heavy head hang low, tears dripping from the tip of her nose and joining with the rain that was slowly soaking through her hood.

She was back to square one. No, worse than square one. When she’d left her clan, she hadn’t had any money or family, but at least her face was intact. And at least… fuck, at least she’d been able to trust people. What was she supposed to do now? Just assume everyone she met was going to take her shit and leave her alone and beaten on the street?

An ugly little sob escaped her throat. Piper scowled at herself for being so dramatic, then winced in pain as the scowl split her eyebrow even further, causing a fresh trickle of blood to leak down the side of her face.

She took a deep breath, then spat a gobbet of bloody phlegm onto the wet asphalt. With effort, she managed to get her feet under her, then carefully lifted her aching body up until she was standing again.

She stumbled slightly as her spinning head tried to right itself. “Fuck,” she groaned. Her solar plexus felt bruised from Duncan’s kick, and there was gravel embedded in the scratches in her palms, and her face felt like it was on fire. And still she knew this was only the start of it. She was still drunk, still slightly numb from the booze, and she could only imagine the agony that would be coming for her later when the whiskey wore off.

She slowly made her way toward the back door of the Chora’s Den and leaned heavily against the wall. She reached inside her jacket and pulled out her smokes - she supposed she was lucky that Duncan had let her keep those, at least - then pulled out a cigarette and her lighter.

She carefully lit the cigarette with trembling hands, then took a long drag from the uninjured corner of her mouth. Ten seconds later, the cigarette was smoked down to the butt, and Piper dropped it on the ground and watched silently as the tiny spark fizzled out into a pitiful little stream of smoke.

She sighed heavily and leaned her aching head against the wall. Peronn and the others were probably packed up and long gone by now. It’s not like they owned much stuff to begin with. That was probably why Peronn had made her spend the whole day out with him. This was definitely why Maara had insisted that they come straight here from the bank instead of giving Piper time to go home and change.

I fucked up. It was the only conclusion Piper had. She’d trusted total strangers, taken out all her cash, and gone and gotten blind drunk with thirty thousand bucks in her pocket. Of course it was her fault. And there was no point going to the police. She had no proof of what they’d done. Besides, the police in this city weren’t super trusting of the Dalish.

Piper ran a hand over her soaking hood. What now? There was nothing left for her in Ansburg. No friends, no home, no money… she had her job, but that wasn’t much good without a place to stay.

She sighed. Looked like it was back to the nomadic lifestyle. She could probably talk her boss into cutting her final check early; that would be enough to get her a bus ticket and a few necessary supplies before heading out to…

Well, that was the question. Where was she going to go? Somewhere new, for sure; Piper wasn’t much of one for retracing her steps, especially since her steps thus far had led to this.

Where to next, then? This was the question she pondered as she pulled open the back door of Chora’s Den and dragged herself to the restroom. It was the question she thought about as she tossed her bloody wad of paper towels into the trash, then pulled open the restroom door and headed down the short hall toward the main room of the bar.

As she weaved her way along the hall, her inebriated eyes fell on a flyer tacked to the announcement board: a bright green flyer for a band called Blightfall, who were playing Kirkwall in three days’ time.

Blightfall. Piper had never heard of them. That was good. No memories of Peronn to tack the music onto. And she’d never been to Kirkwall before.

She smirked to herself. She’d heard Kirkwall was a right shithole this time of year, but really, it couldn’t be worse than here.

She pulled down the flyer and stuffed it in the back pocket of her jeans, then meandered back into the main room. The music was too loud and the laughter too bright for her pounding head, but she took a seat at the bar anyway.

The bartender glanced at her in passing, then did a double-take at her swollen face. Then, as bartenders were sometimes wont to do, he chose not to ask any questions.

He leaned his palms on the bar and tilted his head. “What can I get you?”

Piper ruefully twisted her lips until it hurt. She sheepishly shoved her hands into her jacket pockets and was about to tell him she hadn’t any money for a drink, but before she could speak, her fingers found a soft scrap of paper in the depths of her pocket.

She pulled it out. It was a ten-dollar bill.

That’s lucky, she thought. And despite herself, despite the shitshow of the night she’d just had and the shitshow that was sure to meet her in the ugly light of day, Piper smiled.

She slid the bill across the bar. “Whiskey, neat,” she said.

The bartender nodded and turned away to fetch her drink, and Piper sat back with a sigh.

I make my own luck, she thought. Tonight, that luck was a ten-dollar bill.

Tomorrow, Kirkwall.

[prepare4trouble]

Trollhunters fanfic - Dinner Date

This is set after the 3rd season, and so contains spoilers for season 3 and the conclusion of the series.  It’s my first fic in this fandom and is unbeta’d.  

Dinner date

Half the fun of cooking — actually more than half the fun — was in eating the finished product.  Jim had always enjoyed carefully combining ingredients to get the desired flavor, blending in tastes and textures that would complement the meal while adding something special to it.  And when he was done, he would be able to serve up two or more plates, sit down with his mom — or Toby, or whoever else might be there — and get to enjoy not just his food, but their reaction to it.

He wasn’t going to lie, he was going to miss that.

But he could still have some of it.  He could still cook, and he could still serve up a plate to Claire, and watch her enjoy it — if she did enjoy it, of course.  That part remained to be seen.

Cooking just wasn’t the same anymore.  He had first noticed it at home, not long before the battle, back when he had been trying to hold onto some semblance of normality in the wake of the change he had gone through.  The food hadn’t smelled like food, it hadn’t made his mouth water, he hadn’t been able to look forward to sitting down and eating.  He had gone through the motions, but even before he had tried to taste what he had made and found it inedible, there had been something missing.  It had been like trying to paint without being able to see the colors.

The same had been true today.  It wasn’t as though he had expected anything different, but the realization was still difficult, it drove home that this was forever, one more aspect of his life that was never going to be the same.

“Okay, I think we’re done…” Jim said.  He carefully lifted the finished omelet from the pan and onto the slightly warmed plate.  It looked fine.  An slightly uneven surface, browned to perfection on each ridge, yellow as sunshine everywhere else.  Where the two edges met, the filling peeked out just the right amount, showing just a hint of the carefully selected collection of ingredients within.

He had chosen fairly something simple for his first try, though he hadn’t been able to resist adding in a twist or two, but most importantly, it was something that he wouldn’t normally have tasted as he cooked.  Some foods, he would add ingredients a little at a time, tasting as he went to make sure he got the amounts right.  That… wasn’t going to work anymore.  If he wanted to cook anything a little more adventurous than this, he was going to have to get used to working from a recipe.  Well, that or learn how to trust someone else to do the taste test for him.

“Now, I’m not sure what this will be like…” he said warningly.

“I’m sure it’ll taste as good as it smells,” Claire told him.  “And it smells pretty great.”

Jim inhaled deeply through his nose, taking in the scent.  It was familiar, but unappetizing.  Not unpleasant, but it just didn’t smell like food.  He sighed as he reached for a sprig of parsley, shredded it with fingers that sometimes still felt too large and awkward for more delicate tasks, and sprinkled it on top of the omelet with a flourish.

He picked up the plate, and turned to present it to Claire.  “I’ll have to take your word for that,” he said.

Something clouded her expression, not pity, not exactly, but some close relative of it.  “Jim…” she began.

“Buen apetito!” he interrupted quickly — Toby was right, he did reach for Spanish when he was nervous — and put the plate down in front of her, slamming it just a little bit too hard on the table.  The sound echoed around still almost empty kitchen of the new place.  He winced.  “Uh… sorry.  I still don’t know my own strength sometimes.”

“I know; it’s okay,” she assured him.  “I’m sure you’ll get used to it eventually.”

She was right.  Honestly, he almost was used to it already.  Parts of it, he could no longer imagine being without.  The strength, the speed, the resilience.  The missing finger on each hand still felt strange, but he had stopped jumping when he caught a glimpse of his own reflection out of the corner of his eye… Mostly.  What he wasn’t sure he would ever get used to was the loss of the little things.  No longer being able to walk down the street — the street of a human town anyway — with his hand in Claire’s.  Not being able to walk down a street at all, for that matter.  Never being able to feel the sunlight on his skin again.  Not being able to sit down and enjoy a meal he had cooked with somebody he cared about.

“I know I will,” he said.  “Now eat up already, before it goes cold.”

Claire cut off a corner of the omelet with her fork, speared it and raised it to her lips.  She paused, and frowned.  “You’re not going to stare at me like that the whole time, are you?”

Jim blinked.  Was he staring?  Yeah actually, he was.  He realized now that he was kind of hovering next to her, waiting to see what she thought of the food, waiting to make sure that when she began to cut into the omelet that it looked the way it should on the inside too.  He didn’t remember being this nervous to serve somebody food since… actually, he didn’t ever remember being this nervous.

He backed off a couple of steps, sat himself on a chair at the opposite side of the table, and tried not to watch her.  He glanced down at his hands on the table, then over to his side, where the hot pan still lay on the top of the stove.

“Sorry.  Just don’t expect too much from that omelet, okay?” she said.  “It’s been a while since I cooked anything, I might be a bit out of practice.  I mean, it’s not like it’s the most complicated thing to make — that’s why I chose it — but, I mean, it doesn’t even smell like food to me anymore.  So just… don’t be disappointed it it’s bad, okay?”

Claire shook her head from one side to the other and sighed.  “It’s going to be great.”  She took her first bite.  Jim tried not to watch too intently.

“Well?” he asked.

Claire chewed, then swallowed.  She paused thoughtfully.

“Just… be honest, okay?  Too much salt?  Not enough?  You hate the filling!  I knew I should have gone for something more simple.”

“Jim, stop,” Claire said.

He stopped.  Whatever it was, she would tell him and maybe he would even be able to fix it.  If not, he would be able to fix it next time.

“You can put ketchup on it if that helps,” he added.  “I won’t be offended, I promise.”

“It’s good,” she said.

He frowned, confused.  “It’s…”

“It’s delicious,” she told him.  “I mean, don’t get me wrong, a side of guacamole would make it like ten times better, but I’d challenge you to name any food that wouldn’t be improved by guac.  You’re still an amazing chef, Jim.”

Troll food, Jim thought.  It wouldn’t improve that at all.  He smiled self consciously.  “You’re not just saying that?”

Claire shook her head.  “I’m not just saying that,” she assured him.  She took another bite of omelet, and another, and another, then looked up.  “You’re not eating?”

He shifted uncomfortably in his chair.  “You know I can’t…”

“I know you can’t eat this,” she agreed.  “So eat something you can.”

Jim shook his head.  “Nah, I’m fine.  I’m not hungry.  I actually don’t have to eat as often anymore.  Anyway, Blinky invited me over for supper later tonight.  late late, I mean.  You’ll be asleep by then.”  He was hungry, as it happened.  All the cooking and the thinking about food probably, but he could wait.  He had to wait, he wasn’t ready for Claire to see that.

It was strange, actually, but once he had gotten over his instinct not to eat the things his body needed now, once he had gotten his head around that fact that it was food, he had begun to actually enjoy it.  Like almost everything in his life now, it was different, but that didn’t mean it was bad.

“Maybe next time,” Claire said.  “We can’t have dinner together if you won’t eat in front of me.  I can handle it.  Honestly, its a little insulting that you think I can’t.”

“It’s not that,” Jim assured her, then hesitated.  It wasn’t that, but there was something so… inhuman about that aspect of his life now.  It wasn’t like he thought she would be disgusted, more that it would widen the divide between them.”

“You’re worrying about nothing,” Claire told him.

He smiled.  “Oh yeah?  How do you know?  You don’t even know what I’m thinking about.”

She shrugged.  “Doesn’t matter, I’m right.”  She finished the last piece of omelet, put down her fork and reached for Jim’s hand.  “Trust me.”

Jim took a deep breath, he looked down at her small hand on top of his larger, blue one.  Maybe she was right.  She had seen him turn into a troll and stuck with him.  If the fangs and the horns hadn’t torn them apart, a dinner date wasn’t going to do it.  “Maybe you’re right,” he said.  “Next time.”

And maybe he really would.

[dmitri-smerdyakov]

Least Wanted - a Tina-centric/Newtina fic

So I decided to split the fic up into multiple parts because it’s so long. The next part will pick up to the events just after the film and onwards :)

With that in mind, I hope you all enjoy the first part of this fic – it’s been many months in the making, and I’m very hyped (and nervous) to share it with you all!

Tina hadn’t exactly been planned: in fact, the discovery that she was on her way had been slightly bittersweet for the Goldsteins had been married just three months and were still attempting to establish their respective careers in New York. A baby had not been planned or wanted at all.

It had taken a few weeks for both of them to warm up to the idea – and then they had been thrilled because, despite the fact they hadn’t been married long at all, it seemed only natural to love their child, however unexpected they may be. Both parents had quickly become excited by the news and eagerly waited for her arrival in the following August. Tina had been loved from the very start, and no one could deny that.

In contrast, Queenie had been planned – just a year after Tina had been born, the Goldsteins had decided that another child was just what they wanted; it would be lovely for their children to grow up together so close in age, and so they had started trying almost immediately. It hadn’t taken long at all for her mother to fall pregnant again, and her baby sister had been welcomed the following spring to much love and affection from both parents and her sister.

Her parents cooed and cradled Queenie constantly after she was born, absolutely enamoured by her; she had their mother’s blonde hair, already curling at the ends, and big blue-green eyes that melted hearts. People would stop them in the streets and coo at her too, complementing the Goldsteins on their beautiful new addition even when Queenie had grown into a toddler, and their parents would beam with pride.

Passers-by never fawned over Tina.

She wasn’t anything like Queenie: she had thick black hair that never sat right, like their father’s, and brown eyes that seemed almost dull in comparison to her little sister’s bright colourful ones. It was easy to ignore her with the new baby around, and though she loved Queenie she couldn’t help but resent how much more everyone else loved her.

And, to add to insult, Queenie got a cute name to go with her adorable appearance – and Tina was stuck with ‘Porpentina’, a name she could barely even say.

One day, whilst in the front room of the apartment, Tina gazed at her sister – now a beautiful little toddler – and wondered if, one day, she’d be as pretty…maybe she just had to wait until she was grown up? Maybe, if she wished hard enough, her hair could be blonde, her eyes blue, and she could be pretty too.

I wish I was as lovely and cute as you, she thought sadly.

Queenie looked up – and then she beamed, showing off her perfect tiny white teeth, a giggle following shortly after.

Tina was amazed that her little sister was suddenly smiling at her so happily, as if she had heard Tina describing her as ‘lovely and cute’ in her head, and she couldn’t help but smile somewhat shyly back. Queenie had that effect on people, she had noticed, but she couldn’t resent her for it – despite all of Tina’s grievances on the matter, she couldn’t help but love her sister dearly. She liked having a sister, liked having another little girl she could play with (for they were rather close in age), and nothing would change that in her mind.

The Goldstein parents had loved both of their daughters with their hearts, and they loved them equally; their father would tell Tina stories of his work as an Auror and encourage her when she proclaimed she wanted to be one too someday, just like him. Their mother would sing the sweetest softest lullabies as she cooked or cleaned and encourage Queenie to join in. Both would play games with their daughters, reading to them and tucking them in into bed with goodnight kisses every night.

But nothing lasted forever – things had to change, as they always did.

Their father had caught the dragon-pox first, perhaps during one of his work assignments; their mother had nursed him as best as she could – but it had infected her before long too, and the girls had been forced to stay with relatives that they barely knew. They had both waited for their parents to get better so that they could go home again, to continue as they had become used to.

When they had been told that their parents wouldn’t be coming back, Queenie had cried and cried like she’d never done before – she had cried before the words had left their aunt’s mouth, seemingly sensing things in the way that she always did. Tina had wanted to, but couldn’t find it in herself for some reason – instead she had hugged her sister and whispered to her that it would be okay.

She needed to protect her sister – Queenie needed her to be there, to be strong.

It was a very long and difficult night; it took well over an hour for Queenie to stop crying and fall asleep, cradled in her older sister’s arms. Tina had waited until she – her beautiful little blonde sister, so young and innocent, the only one she had left in the world – had fallen asleep before allowing her tears to fall, sobs muffled by the scratchy pillow of the bed in their aunt’s spare room.

Mama…Papa…I wish I knew what to do.

Despite the fact she had been nervous about leaving her sister, Tina loved Ilvermorny already.

She had been rather pleased when the Thunderbird statue had flapped its wings in approval at her, knowing from her research beforehand that Thunderbird was the house of adventurers (though she wasn’t quite sure that applied to her really), and she had spent her first week drifting around the corridors in a kind of daze. The fact that she was suddenly allowed to learn how to do all of these magical things was extraordinary – it was all she had wanted since she was little girl, having seeing her parents doing magic. It didn’t even matter that she would have to relinquish her wand during the holidays up until she was of age, or that any kind of magic outside of Ilvermorny was strictly forbidden now that she was a student and learning to control her abilities, because for the first time in a long time she felt somewhat at home.

The only real problem was that she just found it difficult to make friends.

Part of her wished she wasn’t so shy or awkward, that she could be more like Queenie and just smile to beguile people – the other girls in the Thunderbird dorms had found it more than easy to start conversations and giggle together, even within the first week, and it left Tina feeling rather left out despite the fact she hadn’t tried to talk to them yet. She vowed that on her second week she would do better – she would make friends with the other students in both her house and in her classes: she didn’t particularly mind which house someone was in, so long as she could perhaps be their friend.

She had walked into her Charms class that Monday, a spring in her step and forcing herself to smile as she took her seat near two fellow Thunderbirds and a Horned Serpent student.

“Hi!” Tina greeted, nearly wincing when her voice naturally came out quietly. “I-I’m Tina. Goldstein. Tina Goldstein, I mean.”

The Horned Serpent girl raised an eyebrow, looking somewhat bemused; one of the Thunderbird students, a girl in her dorm, stifled a giggle behind her hand. Tina felt her cheeks flush.

“Her name’s not really Tina,” The girl stated. “She’s Porpentina really.”

The other two were smirking to themselves, highly amused; a boy from Wampus was sitting nearby, and he guffawed as he overheard their conversation. “I’d probably go by a different name if my parents were stupid enough to name me something like that.”

Tina really hated her full name more than ever – Queenie had gotten a cute little name, but no, not her: she had to be Porpentina, an oddity, strange and weird.

“Just Tina is fine,” She whispered, trying not to duck her head in shame – she had to at least pretend to be confident, after all. “S-So, uhm…how…how are classes going?”

All of the other students laughed, the Wampus boy turning away from her and the girls shaking their heads pityingly. Tina suddenly wished she’d sat somewhere else, or at least not opened her mouth and attempted to speak.

“Classes have barely started,” The Horned Serpent girl tutted. “We haven’t done anything yet.”

“Oh. I-I know, I just meant-”

“Ignore her,” One of the other Thunderbird girls sighed. “She didn’t bother speaking to any of us last week; I think she’s a bit strange, you know.”

“She hasn’t had any letters either,” The other Thunderbird confirmed. “Her parents haven’t even bothered writing to her.”

Tina felt tears well up in her eyes and told herself that she couldn’t cry – it would be silly to cry, absolutely ridiculous. Perhaps if she explained to them, she thought, that her parents had passed away then they might take pity and treat her nicer. It was worth a try, she reasoned.

“I don’t have…my mother and father…”

Suddenly she was choking on her words, unable to speak; her heart was beating hard in her chest, eyes stinging, and she wished that she could have had her sister with her – if only to hold and hug her. She wanted Queenie with her, wanted to be sharing a room with her again, to be able to see her bright smile and blonde curls.

“…Miss Goldstein, are you feeling quite well?”

Tina nearly jumped at the stern voice of the Charms professor, hurriedly scrubbing her eyes. “’m fine, m’am.”

Professor Stonehart, a most formidable woman who always looked strict and unimpressed, pursed her lips. “Do you need to be excused, Miss Goldstein? I will not have students blubbering through my lessons.”

“No, m’am,” Tina managed, staring down at the desk and wishing she could disappear. “I’m fine.”

After the lesson, she heard the girls giggling and shrieking as they left the room – she picked up snippets, specifically her name and the words ‘don’t want her near us’ and ‘weird’.

If only Queenie were here…she would listen and understand. She always has.

Queenie had, of course, been a most popular student at Ilvermorny from the day she arrived; she had blonde curls that the girls envied, a smile that could charm even the toughest of trolls, and she just knew what to say to get people to like her.

When the Pukwudgie statue had raised its arrow into the air for Queenie, Tina had admittedly been disappointed; she had so hoped that her sister would be in the same house as her, that they could share dorms and the common room together. She had clapped and smiled, however, and deep down she knew that Pukwudgie was a perfect fit for her little sister – Queenie was one of the kindest and most generous souls around, even at a young age, and she would immediately be comfortable in a house that celebrated the heart of a witch or wizard.

Despite being placed into different houses, the Goldstein sisters had still found more than enough time to spend together; Queenie had soon picked up that her older sister was not exactly the most well-liked student in the school and made a habit of sitting with her during meals or the like. Many had been baffled that she – someone who nearly everyone wanted to be friends with – would choose to spend time with her ‘weird’ awkward sister.

“None of them are genuine, anyway,” Queenie announced rather cheerfully at lunch one day when Tina brought this up. “Besides, you’re not weird, Teen – you just get shy is all. I can help you make some friends, don’t worry!”

Tina highly doubted that anything – even Queenie’s wonderful smile – would help her make friends, to be frank, but it was the thought that counted.

The boys at Ilvermorny never paid Tina very much attention; part of this could have been due to the fact that, on her first day when the first-years were being sorted, her full name had been shouted into the hall for all to hear – students still snickered and called her ‘Porpentina’ to annoy her sometimes. Tina knew, however, that it was mostly because she simply wasn’t pretty.

She wasn’t ugly, by any means, but she wasn’t stunning or gorgeous like some of the other girls – she was plain old Porpentina Goldstein. Though she wasn’t particularly study-orientated, like the Horned Serpents, she did still try hard to get good grades – she wanted to graduate and get a decent job to provide for Queenie. The sisters were all each other had, and they had to plan carefully on how to look after each other in the future for they had nothing and no one else. She didn’t have very many friends either, though not from a lack of trying – every time she tried to talk to another student, she just felt awkward and unsure.

Though she mostly kept to herself, there were of course the stirrings of feelings towards some boys – she was only human, after all – and she found herself quietly admiring them from a distance; she wouldn’t have dared tried asking one of them out, even some of the nicer ones that had made her feel butterflies in her stomach, because she already knew that they would reject her without a moment’s hesitation. Even worse, by the time Queenie had reached her fourth year she had nearly every single boy head-over-heels for her; it was hard to miss the stares and longing looks that were thrown in her direction – even boys that Tina had found herself liking were interested in her sister.

But then there was William Clifton.

He wasn’t one of the most popular boys, but a boy from Wampus who was in several of her classes and seemed to get on with everyone; they occasionally sat together, and they even talked on a number of occasions. His smiles were always soft and genuine, and he was one of the few who never called her ‘Porpentina’ to get on her nerves. It was no wonder she found herself developing feelings for him, to be honest, and when Queenie found out (through reading her thoughts, that was) she encouraged her sister to pursue it.

“Oh, go for it, Teenie! I’m sure he really likes you – he sounds like a nice guy!”

She had been so happy, so excited, by these feelings that she had taken her younger sister’s advice – she later learnt that she shouldn’t have been so foolish.

At first it seemed to go perfectly; William just listened and smiled, saying that he liked her too, that she was a nice girl and that maybe – just maybe – they could ‘try’ it out. He’d had a couple of relationships but nothing that had lasted very long – Tina had even less experience – so he suggested that they test the waters a bit before committing to something serious; Tina was so relieved that she agreed without a moment’s hesitation.

It was absolutely wonderful and blissful for all of four days.

They had been studying together in the library, occasionally sending each other shy smiles, when Queenie strode up to their table; even in her robes she looked dazzling, blonde curls styled perfectly, make-up meticulously applied (but not overtly so), and a lovely smile on her face.

“Hello,” She said to William politely before turning to her sister. “I was just wondering if I could borrow some of your notes on charms, Teenie; I got a big test tomorrow, and some of them are giving me some trouble.”

Tina had agreed and reached into her bag for said notes – she carried notes on all of her classes, just in case – without any hassle; when she had dropped her bag to the floor again, however, Queenie’s smile had vanished. She was no longer looking at her sister but at William, as if appalled.

“Is everything alright?” Tina asked, looking between the two.

Queenie was still staring at him as she took the papers from Tina. “No…No, of course not. I was just…thinking. Uhm…Hey, Teen?” Her voice dropped in volume as she leaned closer to her sister, so that William couldn’t hear. “How about we meet up in the hall tonight? I think we need to have a…a talk.”

It wasn’t the first time Queenie had wanted ‘a talk’, though it was usually to do with school or (embarrassingly) to ask for lady things; nevertheless, she agreed and watched as her sister retreated.

Once she had left the room, she heard William let out a low whistle. “Is she your sister? You look nothing alike.”

Tina shrugged, going back to her homework on dark wizards in history (a topic of great interest to her, she had found). “Yes. She can be a bit full-on sometimes, but she’s lovely really.”

That evening in the hall, Queenie’s eyes had looked sad as she leaned in close to her sister. “That William boy…I’m sorry, Teen.”

“You’re…why?” Tina questioned, confused by this. “What’s wrong with him?”

“Oh, you should have heard what he was thinking!” Her sister whispered furiously, and there was a glimmer in her eyes, as if she were about to cry. “He took one look at me and…and…I can’t.”

“Queenie, tell me!” Tina pleaded, gripping her sister by the wrist tightly. “Tell me now!”

Queenie let out a small wince of pain, trying to pull away from her sister – when this achieved nothing, she sighed and started speaking reluctantly. “He was thinking…these weren’t his exact words, but it was along the lines of…of…” She took a deep breath. “Oh, what a bombshell! If only I weren’t stuck with her sister…”

“You’re lying,” Tina denied quickly, refusing to believe it. “You’re lying to make me jealous – can’t I have just one thing, Queenie, without you ruining it?”

Queenie’s eyes were tearful. “Teenie…I’m sorry. I’m not lying, I swear! That’s what he was thinking!”

But Tina had stormed off, furious and angry that her sister would say such a thing; she made the decision right there and then that she was going to find William himself, forget about her sister – he liked her, of course he did. He wouldn’t think something like that!

William would have probably been near the Wampus dormitories, she knew, so she immediately set off to find him; she was just around the corner from the dorms when she heard him laughing. He wasn’t the only one – there was a group of boys with him, by the sound of things.

“…yeah, she’s a doll!” She heard one boy say, and she halted in her tracks. “With those big eyes…and her lips! I could kiss those for hours!”

Eavesdropping was not a nice quality, she knew, but her curiosity was getting the best of her; careful not to make any noise, she ducked behind a pillar and eagerly strained to hear more.

Another boy was laughing again now. “Yeah – she’s Goldstein’s little sister, isn’t she?”

They were talking about Queenie – of course. Boys loved Queenie, wanted to around her and be seen with her. But surely William would say something nice about her, Tina reasoned hopefully; he had to, didn’t he? He liked her-

“Hey, Clifton, ain’t you dating Goldstein? The older one, that is?”

He likes me. Of course he likes me. Calm down, Tina.

William was chortling. “Yeah – but if I’d have known that the little one was that gorgeous…well, I’d have waited!”

No. He can’t have just said that…he’s…he’s probably just saying it to make the others happy, to fit in. Tina’s stomach was lurching unpleasantly, however; surely she had imagined him saying that, he wouldn’t have been that cruel…

“Can’t believe they’re related,” The first boy snorted. “If I were you, I’d dump the cold fish and get with the blonde one.”

William was humming in thought. “Well…I think I’ll stick with Tina – but only until I can get her sister to go out with me. She can’t be that hard to convince, right, little piece like her?”

Tina stormed away at this point, not caring that her face was blotchy and red or that passing students were staring at her – she needed to get away as quickly as possible.

She had gone back to the Thunderbird dorms, cast silencing charms around her bed and cried that night; it just wasn’t fair! The one boy she had thought she was different, the one boy who liked her and not her sister, was a liar – he didn’t prefer her, didn’t like her in the way she had hoped. No, he preferred Queenie – beautiful, perfect, blonde, kind, caring Queenie. She had been stupid to assume otherwise.

The next morning, Tina promptly told William that she was ending their relationship, much to his dismay, and then made a point of avoiding her sister for the rest of the day.

Despite knowing it wasn’t her sister’s fault, she couldn’t help but feel bitter resentment at the fact that her sister had unintentionally ruined her first and – so far – only relationship. Yes, it was more William Clifton’s fault than Queenie’s – but it was easier to blame her sister, easier to feel jealous of someone so perfect.

Queenie got everything, and it just was not fair.

Tina was in her fifth year when she firmly decided that she was going to be an Auror; her father had been an Auror, a highly-regarded one at that, and she had always taken an interest in his work even when she had been a little girl. Truthfully, she had thought about it for a number of years before coming to her final decision; there weren’t many female Aurors, she’d been told, and it would take quite a lot of hard work.

But it was what she wanted, and she was sure of it.

Whispers started around the school, of course, about how strange Tina was for wanting to join the Investigative Team at MACUSA after graduating, and at first they hurt – but she learned to remain strong, even if she was hurting, to ignore them. People would always compare her to her sister, no matter where she went in the world, and there was no point in dwelling on it for the rest of her life – she knew that she was nowhere near as beautiful as her sister, she never would be, and she accepted it.

“…Hard to believe they’re sisters, they’re nothing alike…”

“…The older one got the brains, sure…but the little one, she’s going to go far. She’s got the looks for anything, really…”

“The blondie is a doll, a catch…so different from her milquetoast sister.”

It would be ridiculous to be offended over such things, she decided: who needed a relationship when she could have a career for herself? A chance to do the right thing, to protect people? She and her sister would need the money when they left school, need something to buy an apartment or dwelling with, to start over together – and as the eldest, it was up to her to make sure her little sister was provided for.

Ma and Pa would want that, Tina told herself, and it made her feel slightly better. They’d want us to look out for each other…and that’s what I’m gonna do.

So she threw herself into her studies as much as possible, working outside of lessons to improve her knowledge; she took extra-curriculars such as the Duelling Club at Ilvermorny, determined to better herself and her skills. The students who had mocked or thought degrading things of her soon were amazed and impressed, and they mostly stopped comparing her to her sister; instead of “the beautiful one’s sister”, she was “that Goldstein girl who’s good at duelling”, and it made her prouder than she cared to admit.

By the time she graduated, she was at the top of several of her classes – and, frankly, no one was particularly surprised at all when MACUSA immediately offered her a place on their Auror training programme.

“Goldstein!”

Tina was immediately on her feet, straightening up as Graves approached her desk; he had a way about him that was stern and controlled, calm and cold. She always felt her face heat up at the sight of him – he really was unfairly good-looking, and while she didn’t delude herself that he would ever think of her in that way, it didn’t stop her from admiring him all the same.

Mr Graves’ face was unreadable as he looked her over, though he did look slightly disapproving – he always did, really. “Apparently you were the one who shut down the illegal trading ring last week. Is that true?”

“Yes, sir,” She said carefully, forcing herself to look at him; she didn’t want him to think that she was weak or just a blushing schoolgirl, after all. “It was mostly Class-B tradeable goods, but we managed to recover a few Class-A goods as well.”

“I see. You were working on your own for this case, weren’t you?”

Tina hesitated. “Yes, sir, I was. If something in the paperwork is incorrect then I’ll amend it immediately, Mr Graves-”

“No, your paperwork is perfectly filled out,” Graves interrupted calmly, still studying her; he seemed to be considering to himself for a moment, debating in his mind before speaking. “Tell me, Miss Goldstein; you’re not a part of our field team, are you?”

“No, sir. I was only out in the field to round up the smugglers.”

He merely raised a brow, almost to himself. “Hmm. That seems an awful waste to me; you took out four armed thugs with barely a scratch – it’s the kind of skill we could use on our team.”

She had learnt a long time ago not to get her hopes up – things never worked out how she wanted anyway – but it was hard not to feel slightly intrigued and hopeful at his words. A promotion was what she had been hoping to work towards – both for her career, and because she and Queenie needed the money. Her sister had secured a job in Wand Permits, sure, but it was hardly a well-paying position – certainly not enough to rent an apartment and cover living expenses, not even when combined with Tina’s salary.

Graves was watching her keenly, like a hawk. “You’re relatively new, Goldstein – new and young. You’re nowhere near as skilled as our top investigators, even if you did luck out with the trading ring last week. However,” His tone was only somewhat softer, lower now. “I would be open to considering giving you training, if you’re willing to put the work in.”

Tina was stunned. “Mr Graves, sir, that…I…”

“It won’t be easy,” He informed her coolly. “And I won’t be easy on you just because of your age or because you’re a woman; if you want to be on my team, then you have to train until you meet my standards. Is that understood, Goldstein?”

“Yes, sir,” She agreed quickly, still flabbergasted by his proposal.

Graves nodded, seeming only somewhat satisfied as he straightened himself up. “Alright. You start training tomorrow – six-thirty sharp. Don’t be late.”

Mr Graves hadn’t been lying when he had told her that he’d work her hard; he was incredibly strict and no-nonsense during their sessions together, pointing out every flaw and every mistake she made – and she needed that, really, to better herself. She made sure to mentally keep a note of anything and everything he said, eager to prove her worth to him: she wanted to convince him that she belonged on the team, that she was focused on the job and wouldn’t allow anything to distract her. Queenie worried a slightly for her health, of course, concerned that she wasn’t eating or sleeping enough, but she always brushed her sister’s concerns off; she was a grown woman, fully capable of looking after herself (and her sister, if need be).

It was six months later that Mr Graves announced she was joining the field team for a raid in a nearby bar – a “test”, of sorts, to see if she was ready to officially be counted as a part of the team. Tina had accepted willingly, of course, more ready to show him that she deserved a part on his team just as much as anyone else.

The other Aurors were stony-faced as Graves introduced her on the morning preceding the raid, unimpressed and uncaring – hardly a surprise, really. Only two offered her rather unenthusiastic welcomes, barely meeting her eyes before getting to work; she had merely shaken it off, reminding herself that they’d most likely warm up to her in due time.

The raid that evening was a success, all of the criminals they had tracked being arrested before they could escape, and several types of illegal goods being secured. Tina hadn’t been able to stop herself from flushing with pride as she disarmed the last wizard and used her wand to tie ropes around his arms and legs to prevent an escape; she just felt so pleased, so exhilarated, at arresting someone and doing something good, something that would make the world a better place perhaps. To add, Mr Graves had offered her the briefest of smiles when she brought the thug to him – small but still, a smile. It made her insides grow warm, her cheeks red for an entirely different reason.

The next day, it was made official: she was to join the Investigative Team permanently, with an increased pay raise and a chance at working more dangerous or important jobs.

Queenie had been thrilled at the news, of course, making a special dinner that night to celebrate and gushing at how she had always known her sister would go far in the Auror department. Tina had laughed, shaking her head but secretly feeling pleased with herself once more – with the increase in pay, they would be able to live slightly more comfortably, could perhaps start working towards a better life… Even so, she wished that their parents were there to see how far she’d gotten all by herself – at how well she and Queenie were doing.

Her younger sister had smiled somewhat sadly at her upon hearing her thoughts, taking a sip of her water before speaking. “I know. I’m sure they’re real proud, Teen, wherever they are.”

It soon transpired that not everyone was as thrilled with her promotion as Tina and Queenie were; it was only to be expected, really, given that she was one of the youngest in the department and that she hadn’t been working for very long, and she decided it was silly to take offense over it. She would show them, Tina thought to herself determinedly, just like she showed the other students at Ilvermorny, and she’d prove that she deserved this promotion.

She had been working in the new position for a few months when she was assigned to a more dangerous case; a wizard or witch in the city had been hexing No-Majs for a number of weeks, and whilst no one had been killed or seriously injured, it still meant that a number of Obliviations were required to be carried out. There were two other Aurors working on the case with her, and they gave her half-hearted glares when they were informed that they were to be working with her.

It had taken just a few days for Tina to track down the perpetrator as being the owner of a seedy Wizarding club in Manhattan; he had been in trouble with the law before, and his records showed that he had held a rather low opinion of No-Majs for several years. The other Aurors assigned to the case hadn’t seemed as convinced, deciding between themselves to wait until another attack before making any moves – but she couldn’t do that, not with a good conscience.

So, without a moment’s hesitation, she tracked down his club and apprehended him; it was a bold move, she knew, and risky – he had attempted to fight her off when he saw her, though she had quickly disarmed him without getting hurt – but it paid off.

Mr Graves had raised his brow at her after she brought the wizard in, looking rather unimpressed. “There’s a reason we assign multiple Aurors to these cases, Goldstein,” He reminded her disapprovingly. “He could have taken you out easily, and that would have been that. Next time there’s a case such as this one, you go out to arrest a suspect with back-up. Understood?”

“Yes, sir,” She mumbled, unable to meet his eye as her cheeks turned pink. “I understand.”

He moved away as if to leave before stopping short and hesitating for a brief second. “Other than that, I suppose I should say… Well done, Goldstein.”

Not everyone had been quite as generous about this arrest, however; as she was finishing her paperwork for the case later that evening, she had overheard the other two Aurors on the case ranting and muttering about her to their colleagues. It was impossible not to hear them, and they most likely knew that – knew that and probably didn’t care.

“She just has to barge in,” She heard Johnson huff, his tone frustrated. “Since the first day she’s been a nuisance.”

“I dunno what Mr Graves was thinking,” The other Auror, Norton, agreed in annoyance. “She’s nothing more than a little girl – a liability to the team.”

Tina had deflated in her seat at hearing this from her co-workers, disappointed that they still didn’t view her as one of them even after several months of working together; the point of the job was to arrest criminals and keep the city safe, which she was trying to do to the best of her ability. Most of her arrests had been successful, with the rare two or three exceptions – she was good at the job, she had thought, and eager to improve even so.

They’ll see one day, she told herself as she picked up her quill once more, forcing herself to think of her recent arrest again: it’s just because I’m new, that’s all. When someone else joins, then they won’t be as harsh on me. I just have to be patient and work hard.

Whether they wanted her or not, she was going to do her job and she was going to do it right.

Please feel free to leave comments or likes <3 It makes me so happy!

[uta-no-knb]

[Song-Fic] "Try"~ GOM + Kagami x Insecure Reader

This was another tumblr request I wrote a few months ago....The story does have some song lyrics from other songs. I”ll list them at the end. 

Anyway, on with the chapter. I do not own any of the songs in the story

THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS EATING DISORDERS THAT MAY BE TRIGGERING TO SOME READERS. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!

Click here for the song

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"Freak"

"Goth"

"Ugly fat bitch"

You sighed as you looked at yourself closely in the mirror as those comments from your classmates back in middle school echoed in your head.

Every day you looked at the same thing. Your eyes. You really didn't like them. You hated the color; they were a medium shade of orange. And what made matters worse, they clashed with your black hair. You were often called "Halloween" or "Jack-o-Lantern" because of the combination of the two colors and you really didn't like it.

Sure you got used your eye color, but all your life, you've noticed that your left eye was always slightly turned inward and that made you feel really self-conscious(1). And on top of that, your body wasn't like the other girls-you were a bit on the chubby side.

...You really hated it

Even though your friends, whom you have dubbed the 'Generation of Skittles' constantly tell you that you're perfect and amazing, it still was no match for the nasty comments from your peers (although one complement from a Tsundere is iffy).

None of them ever understood why you would never believe them; believe any of the words that came out of their mouths.

"It's what's underneath your skin that matters."

"It's the beauty that shines within, (Y/N)-chi!"

"Stop this foolishness at once, (F/N). You're fine the way you are, nanodayo"

"Eh? (F/N)-chin is pretty no matter what she wears."

"You're a perfect original, (F/N)-chan."

"You have great boobs!" //slap//

You couldn't help but sigh. It was a miracle that they put up with your stubbornness because you refused to believe them. You were grateful for all they would do and say to make you feel better, but every compliment they gave, you replied with the same thing.

"You're just saying that because you're my friends."

To make all matters worse, one by one they all began changing. Their usual personalities slowly disappeared until you were left with friends whom you didn't know.

Turning away from the mirror, you walked over to your bed and once on your bed, you turned off the lights.

Tomorrow is the start of a new academic year; the start at a new school where no one knew you. It will be fine.

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Being a first year at Seirin was going well for you so far-mostly because you had a familiar teal phantom around to make sure you kept your sanity; you were grateful that he didn't change like the others. It was going well that you even became the manager of the basketball team-and managed to befriend a certain ombre power forward by the name Kagami Taiga. You even helped the team win the winter cup; and with the help of Seirin's shadow and light duo, your friends from Teiko returned to their normal selves (or as normal as they could be).

Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end.

Due to all of the late training during the winter cup, most of your meals were from Maji Burger. Usually you would prepare your dinner ahead of time, but coming up with training regimens, focusing on each player so they can be their best takes up so much time that you weren't able to make food. And the result of all the fast food-you gained even more weight, and with that weight, the bullying that you thought was over at Teiko, resurfaced.

"Look at how fat she's gotten."

"She looks more like a jack-o-lantern now. She's round just like a pumpkin."

The insults were getting worse and worse and the confidence that you once had disappeared. You found yourself crying every night and even stopped yourself from inflicting self-harm.

One night, you finally had enough. You were going to do something about this.

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"Oi, Kuroko," Kagami asked, walking up to the shorter male once they were done with practice.

"Yes, Kagami-kun."

"Have you noticed how (F/N) has been acting lately?"

The shadow was silent, briefly looking over at their manager as he shot a basket with his 'phantom shot'. A sigh escaped his lips. "So you've noticed too."

"Was she ever like this back at Teiko?"

He nodded and faced his light. "She was bullied a lot because of her appearance, often times being called words relating to halloween. No matter what I or the other miracles did or said, she wouldn't believe a single thing."

Kagami was silent and was about to break the silence until a loud voice echoed throughout the gym.

"Bakagami! Kuroko! DId (F/N) leave?”

"She just left.”

“Damn it...She’s been slacking a bit. BOth of you find out what’s wrong. NOW”

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Its been weeks and while you still attended school, you slowly gained more confidence that you decided to go back to school; your body was slimming down. People at school were noticing the change in your appearance, and the rumors stopped; you had never felt more relieved to go through a whole day without hearing anything-you were even getting complements from the girls who bullied you.

However, there was one person who was suspicious of your actions and that was your best friend, Kagami. He noticed that you wouldn't eat as much as you used too-you would usually eat anything that was in front of you, but lately, he's noticed you just picked at certain food that you ordered. Not only this, but you wouldn't walk home with him and Kuroko anymore-you were always at the gym after his practice. Adding onto this, you were always drinking water-you couldn't part from your water bottle and usually had to refill it every thirty minutes; plus you would always go to the bathroom after lunch, every single day.

It has been a few months since he noticed all these changes you were doing, and he never said anything about it.

The next day, he waited for you by your locker and when you appeared, he definitely knew something was up. Your black hair was now a light brown and your eyes were no longer orange-they were brown. What really changed was the fact you were wearing makeup, which you rarely do.

"Morning!" you said as you looked up at the red head.

"Good morning," he replied, looking at you with an emotionless expression. "You look....different."

"Thanks!" you replied, with a smile on your face. "We need to get to class, yea?"

"Yea....we should."

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"Something bothering you, Kagami-kun?" Kuroko asked, as he took a sip from his milkshake.

"It's (F/N)-"

"You should be happy she's back to her normal self."

"I am happy, idiot," he replied, as he took a bite out of his burger. "Didn't you see her today?"

"Kagami-kun, we've established that she was at school today," Kuroko said with no emotion.

"Shut the hell up and listen," he growled. "She doesn't walk home with us anymore, she's always at the gym, and carries that damn water bottle around as if it was her life-support." He paused as he saw the bluenett open his mouth to comment. "Let me finish. She's looking paler and she's wearing make-up now."

"So you don't like makeup then?"

The taller male facepalmed. "That's not the point, Kuroko. She's covering something up and not to mention, her clothes have been getting baggier and baggier."

"What are you implying then?"

"...I think she's starving herself," he replied, causing Kuroko's eyes to widen in shock.

"...She never did that at Teiko. Why would she-" the quiet male couldn't finish his sentence; he was so surprised. "What do you think we should do, Kagami-kun?" Kuroko asked.

"You and the rest of the miracles were friends with her right?"

"Yes. She was really close with all of us. I've mentioned that before, Kagami-kun."

"Shut-up," he growled. "Anyway, since tomorrow is the weekend, I thought that if we could get the rest of the Generation of Miracles together, we could have an intervention."

"...For an idiot, you sure came up with a good plan."

"Teme!"

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It was the next morning as Kagami opened his eyes. Getting out of bed, he stretched his arms and looked at the clock, finding that it was already 11:30 in the morning. With a yawn, he opened his bedroom door and walked into the kitchen, completely unaware of what was going on in the living room.

"Ohayo Kagami-kun," a voice said.

"Morning Kuroko," he replied as he continued to make his food, only to freeze in realization. Letting out a scream, he turned around to face the guy. "What the hell, Kuroko! How did you get in!?"

"The front door, Kagami-kun. You left it unlocked."

Mentally facepalming, he sighed and turned around again, going back to making his breakfast. "Would you like something to eat, Kuroko?"

"Thank you, Kagami-kun."

"Oi, Bakagami! Where's the grub?!" another voice said from the living room.

With a shocked face, the male scrambled out of the kitchen only to let out another scream. "What the hell! Where's the damn leprechaun that let you guys in!?"

"He's right next to you, Kagami-chii."

"Kuroko!"

"You said to get them all together and I did."

"I didn't mean here!" he complained.

"Does it really matter though?" Akashi said, grabbing everyone's attention. "Kuroko said it was an important matter that involved all of us and that we would be doing a favor for someone."

"Neh, Aka-chin. Do you think we can get food before we start?"

"Oh, thats right. (F/N)-chan is going to arrive at 12:30 for lunch."

"STOP INVITING PEOPLE OVER TO MY HOUSE WITHOUT MY KNOWLEDGE!"

"I suggest getting a move on and start making lunch," Aomine said, with a yawn. "Also, are you sure you're a high school guy? You don't own a single porn magazine-"

"AOMINE(kun/cchi)!"

~~Time: 12:30~~

"Are...are you sure that she's starving herself?" Akashi asked, taking a sip of the drink he was given.

"I'm pretty sure. She's gotten a lot thinner."

"Well, we'll find out when she gets here."

At that moment, the doorbell rang and Kagami got up to answer it, leaving the miracles to talk amongst themselves (and keep Murasakibara from eating before you and Kagami returned)

"Neh, Kise-chin, why do you look so nervous?"

"Its just," the expression on the blond's face shifted. "the last time I saw (F/N)-chii, she was happy and to hear this...I just..."

"It's alright Kise-kun," Kuroko said, patting his friend on the shoulder. 

"What is going on?" you said, as you finally enter the living room, only to see the Teiko Rainbow team sitting there. "What are you guys all doing here?"

"We heard that (F/N)-chii was having lunch here and since its been awhile since we have seen you, we wanted to come say hi."

You looked at each of the members there and just smiled. "Alright. It has been a while afterall."

~~~~~~~

"Murasakibara, hold your chopsticks correctly and chew with your mouth closed, nanodayo."

"Hah? Mido-chin, you're not my mom!"

"Kise-kun, stop trying to take my food."

"But Kuroko-chii! Yours look so good!"

"...Kise, we're all eating the same thing."

You couldn't help the smile that appeared on your face as you watch your friends interact with each other. It brought back all the memories from Teiko, before everyone changed.

Yet, something was confusing you; why would they all be here, especially Akashi and Murasakibara, since they go to school in Kyoto and Akita.

"What's wrong, (F/N)?" Kagami asked, grabbing your attention. "You've been poking at your food this whole time."

"Hm? I'm fine Kagami-kun," you smiled.

Shaking it off, he went back to having an eating contest with Aomine.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lunch came to an end and everyone found themselves watching a movie; everyone was surrounded by popcorn, soda and different kinds of candy (the only exception was Murasakibara who had two bags of his own candy).

You didn't know that Kagami and the others had purposely set it up to see if you would take the bait-Murasakibara just showed up because he wanted the food. However, you finally realized that something was indeed going on.

"Enough," you said, finally getting fed up with everything, and grabbing the attention of the others. "What the hell is going on?"

"What do you mean, (F/N)?"

"Don't play dumb, Bakagami. While it was delicious, the food you made for lunch was my favorite-and now I'm surrounded by my favorite junk food. As much as I love seeing all of you idiots again, why are you all here?! Kyoto ad Akita are far away from Tokyo! Enough is enough"

"(F/N), this is an intervention." Akashi said, gripping your shoulder after a moment of silence.

"An intervention? For what?!"

"You've been different. Not to mention that you look different," Kise said, extending his hand to allow strands of your hair to go through it. "You dyed your hair and you're wearing contacts now."

"I just wanted a change in my appearance, Kise," you replied. "I don't need an intervention for that."

You let out a gasp when you found Midorima's hands on your side, holding them in a gentle grip. "What are you doing!?"

"I can feel your ribs, (F/N). I shouldn't be able to feel them that easily, nanodayo."

You backed away from him, only to have your back collide into a wall-which happened to belong to a titan.

"Neh, (F/N)-chin, you've gotten lighter. That barely hurt."

"Nothing can hurt you, you titan!" you exclaimed as your eyes widened slightly in worry.

"Plus your boobs have -."

"Aomine(kun/chii)!"

Luckily for him, he dodged Akashi's scissors.

"(F/N)", Akashi said, approaching you.

That was it. The tears that you had been holding back escaped and trickled down your face. Your shoulders shook as you silently cried; your legs buckled from underneath you.

Gingerly, Akashi carried you bridal style and sat you down on the couch and everyone followed suit. Akashi was seated on your right while Kagami was on your left. Murasakibara and Kuroko were leaning forward against the back of the couch while Midorima was seated on the arm of the couch. Kise and Aomine were sitting on the floor.

"What's going on (F/N)? Why are you hurting yourself like this?" Kagami said in a soft voice.

"Teiko is happening all over again," you sobbed, as you leaned forward and covered your eyes with your hands, resting your elbows on your knees. "Nasty comments are being said about my looks. The same exact ones that I heard all throughout middle school. None of those students even went to Teiko."

"We've told you to not listen to them-"

"And while I'm grateful for those comments, you guys are my friends and you're obligated to say those things-"

"No one's obligated to say anything!" Kagami exclaimed, startling you and everyone in the room. "I've had close friends who would be blunt and honest with me and after playing with these guys, I know they would never lie."

"Kagami-kun is right, (F/N)-chan," Kuroko said. "None of us would ever lie to you-never. You know us....better than anyone else."

"But all of you guys are attractive and you hang out with an unattractive gir-"

"(F/N)," Kuroko started again. "You don't have to try so hard. You don't have to change a single thing about yourself."

"I'm pretty sure I can say on behalf of everyone in this room, that when we see your face, when you smile, there's not a thing anyone of us would change...because you're amazing just the way you are." Akashi said, rubbing his hand on your back.

"You're always lighting up my world, (F/N)-chii! And I can't believe you don't know you're beautiful!"

"None of us want you to feel like you're less than perfect, nanodayo," Midorima chimmed in. "You're perfect to all of us."

"Wow, the tsundere was being sincere," Aomine joked, only to be hit in the face with a pillow.

"URASAI!"

"You're original (F/N)-chin," Murasakibara said lazily as you turned to look at him. "No one can replace you. You have to show people what you're worth."

"I guess its my turn now," Aomine said, grabbing everyone's attention. "I"m being honest when I say this, (F/N). All that matters is what's underneath your skin. There's beauty within you and it shines within. Don't ever forget that."

"Aomine," you whispered.

"Also you still have great boobs-"

"(F/N)," Kagami said, as you turned to face him-and luckily missed Akashi attempting to stab him with his scissors. "You just met me this year. You say that the comments everyone here said was "forced" because they're your friends?" You only nodded in response. "Listen up then." He took a pause and resumed. "I've observed you in class. You were always looking through those stupid magazines and your mood instantly switched; you come in happy, only to feel sad afterwards. Who cares what other people think about you. You're you, be proud of who you are." Placing his hands on your shoulders, he guided you to a mirror, followed by the other males. "Look at yourself."

Lifting your head up, you stared at your reflection, and it shocked you. Your eyes didn't have that excited glow anymore and you had dark circles under your eyes. Your skin was paler, and the makeup did nothing to help.

"This isn't you, (F/N)," Kagami said, as he wrapped his arms around your upper chest. "I know that I can speak for everyone here that we don't like you because of the way you look. We like you for who you are. And you know I don't say things likely."

"You guys.." you started, your voice cracking as you got out of Kagami's embrace and turned to face the colorful rainbow players that you grew up with. "I-I'm-"

"You dont have to say a single thing, (F/N)-chan," Kuroko said, placing a hand on your shoulder. "You don't have to try."

"I love you guys," you whisper, as you wiped a tear away from your eye as you smiled.

♪♬ Take your make up off Let your hair down Take a breath Look into the mirror, at yourself Don't you like you? Cause I like you ♪♬

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Akashi: Hello everyone

GoM: *waves*

Akashi: Jupie has a message she would like to say

Jupie: Thanks guys!

So I know that society puts a lot of pressure on us to look "perfect" - especially towards us women. You see all these celebrities and models with super thin bodies, big boobs-

Aomine: Did you say boobs!?

*Aomine knocked out with a basketball*

Jupie: ....and flawless skin that make us feel....well, worthless and not pretty. Ladies, everyone is beautiful. The way you look, the way you talk, everything about you is unique and makes you one of a kind. The moment where reader-chan mentions that her left eye is slightly turned inward-that is actually what my left eye does; it bugs me, but I have always had it. II have beauty marks all over my back and scars from having some of those removed. I've accepted it; its apart of me and I've embraced it. I'm unique.

So whether you have scars, a slightly inward eye, whether you have a loud personality *cough*thisisme*cough*, whether you're a bit over-weight or very over-weight; coming from someone who has "love handles", you are beautiful. If you feel that the way you look will affect who you date or marry....here's a newsflash....it doesn't; they're just shallow S.O.B.s who are not worth your time. Screw them! if they can't see you - the real beautiful you- for who you are, then its their loss.

The same applies to the male species; you are handsome in your own ways. From a woman's perspective, yes, we are and can definitely be shallow, but not all of us are like that. Trust me on that.

I'll leave you with these quotes from an inspirational book, the Bible

"You are altogether beautiful, my love; there is no flaw in you." ~ Song of Solomon 4:7

"But the Lord said to Samuel, "Do not look on his appearance or on the height of his stature, because I have rejected him. For the Lord sees not as man sees: man looks on the outward appearance, but the Lord looks on the heart."' ~ 1 Samuel 16:7

**Note: The quotes are just inspiration**

Akashi: So,

Aomine: On behalf of us Generation of Miracles-

Kagami: Oi!

Kuroko: And Kagami-kun,

Midorima: We just want to say-

Murasakibara: *much*that *munch* you -

GoM + Kagami: are all beautiful

Kagami: So don't EVER forget that

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Uhhh, this was rushed so I literally just copied and pasted what I had on my wattpad to here....So yea...

[roedusk]

Minato and Orochimaru part 2

I feel like some of the gaps for Orochimaru’s thoughts are too long, but I’m not sure?  Thoughts?  Ideas?  Critiques?

Also the fic name is now My Fault I’ll Fix It?  Not sure what is being fixed but I will get there eventually.

Orochimaru had just pulled out the file for Team Jiraiya (and really saddling those genin with such a name for the rest of their careers?) when he felt his sensei leave the Hokage’s office and come down the hall towards the records room.  He was tempted for a moment just to disappear, take the file and go, but there was no need to implicate himself in information theft.  He was allowed in here, if only because it wasn’t expressly forbidden, so he refused to flee - opening the file and flipping through the Academy information sheets instead.

Blond hair caught his eye on the second page, and a check of the name verified this was the Minato on Jiraiya’s team.  Namikaze, he’d served with one in the war for a mission to Grass, he wondered if that was the origin of the anomaly.  No indication why that mission would be the outlier, out of all the others, but he noted it as a possible investigation point.

“Reading up on Jiraiya’s genin team, I see,” Sarutobi sensei commented, closing the door behind him.  “News travels fast.  I don’t think he’s even passed them yet.”

“He dragged me out for a drink,” Orochimaru offered after pointedly finishing the line he’d been on, trusting Hiruzen to catch the derision in his tone.  “Jiraiya wanted to complain about his new students.  I wouldn’t be surprised if he tried to fail them, he was particularly unimpressed with Minato’s introduction.  Something about him liking the wrong Sannin.”

He hadn’t intended to mention the boy’s interest in him at all, but he wondered if Sarutobi sensei knew.  And if Jiraiya insisted on failing them out of spite perhaps he could… He would not consider such an uncertain future.  Better for the oaf to suffer through years of training those who did not care for his airs, though he supposed the children had done nothing to deserve it.

Sarutobi smiled widely.  “Ah, Minato.  I had not realized he still idolized you so strongly that he would throw it in Jiraiya’s face on their first meeting.”

Orochimaru’s eyes narrowed at the humor in his tone.  “And yet you hardly seem surprised.”

“Minato Namikaze has been your biggest fan since he learned your name,” Hiruzen replied fondly.  “When the instructors assigned an information gathering project on the Second Shinobi War the elder Namizake told him of your mission together, in generalized terms.  But Minato’s always been a precocious child and realized moments into the first fight scene that you fought with strategy first and rare jutsus.  His father told him you’d even invented some jutsu of your own when he pointed that out and Minato was sold.”  He smiled faintly.  “I believe I still have the report he wrote for class about his findings.”

“You have what?”

“Yes, his teacher was worried his sudden interest might point to something untoward going on.  I agreed to read through his work just in case and set the man’s mind at ease as best I could.  I kept the report after reading through the whole thing to make sure however.”

“Of course you did.”

“If you’d be willing to return that file and come with me to my office I can dig it out for you to look at,” Sensei offered with a teasing smile.

Orochimaru’s eyes narrowed.  “I hardly need to…” But Sarutobi cut him off.

“I understand his hero had been Tobirama sensei.  But once Minato started following your exploits I understand Sensei is merely a close second.”  Hiruzen smiled at Orochimaru, softer this time, “I hardly think he’d mind if he knew.  Tobirama sensei would have liked you best as well, I believe.”

And that’s a cheap shot.  Orochimaru struggles to maintain his glare in the face of such a statement though.  Tobirama had been his hero after all, and to be compared to him by not only this small child but by Sarutobi sensei, and complemented with the comparison...

He hissed under his breath and snapped the file closed, holding it out for his sensei to take.  Hiruzen smiled and slid it back into the cabinet before turning to lead the way back to his office.  Only to feel a twinge of that same strange ache when he realized he could see Jiraiya’s first book and the Sarutobi twins’ baby pictures on the shelf Sarutobi headed for.  A sheaf of papers covered in a child’s deliberately legible writing was slid from between the novel and the shelf and offered to him.

“How old was he when he wrote this?” Orochimaru asked as he took the pages.  The letters were deliberate, carefully free of smudges and as correct as a child might be able to make them, but crude and unpracticed nonetheless.

“He had just turned six, I believe.  Though he might have written it before his birthday.”

“The specifics don’t matter,” the Snake Sannin dismissed.  “Strange that he did not grow out of it in the meantime.”  Strange that he hadn’t been forced to let it go, but Orochimaru was hardly going to admit it out loud.

Sarutobi sensei seemed to understand it anyway, if the sadness in his smile was anything to go by.  But it was quickly replaced with amusement.  “His mother seems to have encouraged it.  After the first time her quiet son got into a fight over your honor as the best of the Sannin she ordered him to stick to his beliefs.  The other boy’s insistence that you were too ‘girly’ to be a proper ninja likely had something to do with it.  Never insult the gender of a single parent to her child and expect to get away with it.”

He hadn’t read to that part of the file yet when Sarutobi asked for it back, Orochimaru wasn’t sure if it was a deliberate exchange of information or not, so he didn’t comment.  But there was possibility there, if Minato’s mother did not object to his presence then he might… No, no theories before he finished his initial investigation.

“I will return this when I’m finished,” he suggested, tilting the paper towards Sarutobi.  The older ninja nodded giving him permission to disappear to somewhere private with the paper rather than stand and read through it here.

“Orochimaru,” Hiruzen called him back as he turned to leave, offering a serious look at the raised eyebrow he got in return.  “No matter what you chose to do with this I see no issue with Minato’s interest in you.  Nor would I see issue with whatever return interest you might have in him.  And I will tell Jiraiya as much should he come to me.”

It was permission - no, not just permission, support - and Orochimaru has almost forgotten what it felt like.  Belief that he could do right by another without someone leading him each step of the way or needing to provide indirectly through research.  He managed a thin smile in response and continued on his way, but he held the feeling close in the safety of his own head.  Even if he didn’t need to dissect this feeling to understand it, it was better to catalog all circumstances of a rare phenomenon for a better sample.

Perhaps if he compiled a large enough dataset he would learn how to perform it on his own next time.  For now, he chose the safest path back to his home, slipping into the shadows and avoiding anyone who might impede him in any way.  The sooner he looked over this mock report the sooner he could begin theorizing the cause of the anomaly.  Everything else could wait.