#it looks pretty good but there were a few problems

[wetpussyju1ce]

the smallest Omega in town takes on the biggest Alpha.

+18 mdni

Alpha!König x Omega!fem reader

note: reader is described as skinny. small wrists and bony knees. shorter than the 141.

John's pack was known to be extremely loyal and fiercely protective over each other. They were nice though, friendly and liked to mingle with other packs and families in the village.

They were also extremely close to each other and in tune with each other's needs. And that's how the pack found out that König, their big, awkward Alpha, needed a bit of help when it came to ruts.

He usually spends them alone, much to his packs disagreement over those arrangements because it can't be good for you, it can't! Then they decided to take matters into their own hands and try to find König a rut partner. It was a very serious matter for them, they coaxed König out of details and descriptions about what he likes. They know he doesn't really have a preference if they're Alpha, Omega or Beta. So that's a good start.

He likes them pretty, soft around the edges and smaller than him, which could be literally anyone in the whole village considering his sheer size.

And that was about it.

So Johnny, Kyle, Simon and John went to work. Looking for willing unmated wolves to spend König's ruts w him. Surprisingly it was easy to find willing partners, they know König, have seen him around and the idea of being impaled on his knot was attractive to quite a few of them.

But the real problem started when König asked for a try-out, before his rut hits, because he knows that a knot of his size could be considered a weapon. And he doesn't want to feel the rejection and hurt during his rut when he realises his partner can't take him, or are scared of hurting.

So they accepted, all of them, pretty Alphas, shy Omegas and tiny Betas.

And it didn't go well, they all believed it could be achievable, like how big can he really be? Body-horror big, apparently because what the fuck.

Oh and König knew to anticipate this. The gods made a joke out of him when building him in his mother's womb. They gave him everything it was to be a perfect Alpha, and gave him the biggest knot that no Omega, or Alphsa/Beta could take. It was ridiculous.

He lost hope and decided to busy himself with rut preparations, stocking up one of their many cottages deep in the forest, away from everyone.

His pack was sad for their sweet Alpha, it pulled at their heart to smell his upset scent. he scented sad and defeated and they really wanted to try harder, to make it all better.

it got to a point where they had no idea what more could they do because obviously nobody could take his knot without causing themselves injuries. and their Alpha can't be alone forever, surely??? I mean, that's a bit dramatic but he obviously craved that type of connection and bond with someone. he can't knot his fist and someone's thighs, forever, it wasnt enough!

and when all hope seemed lost their doorbell rang.

and there she was. the tiniest Omega they've ever seen. well, she wasnt that small, but compared to them, she sure as hell was, dainty and skinny too, bony knees and tiny wrists. she was standing there, wearing a pair of shorts, boots and a t-shirt under a flannel, she looked like she just finished gardening, dirt stuck to her knees and caking her boots.

"Hello?" Simon greeted, confused.

"Is König in?" She asked, looking up at the taller man.

"No, why?" Simon raised a brow.

"Oh and I'm here for the rut partner try-out, thing. if that's still happening." She said, shrugging, all casual.

Simon's mind screeched to a stop, did she say try-outs?? is that how everyone in the village saw it as?? what in the hell??

"What the hell are you talking about?" Simon said, utterly confused.

"What? Did he find someone?" She tilted her head to the side, confused.

"No, no-- Just, what makes you think you can take his knot? You're fucking tiny." Simon went straight to the point.

She smiled, kind and unbothered, "I know he's big, I heard all sorts of things, but I believe I can help, and if it works, I'd also like an arrangement out of it, a heat partner if he'd be willing."

Simon feels like he should slam the door on her face. Just to save her guts from absolute and sure destruction by König's cock because no way in hell would she be able to take him. but then the Omega looks sure of herself. not cocky. just looks friendly and honest and she looks ready to help.

Simon maybe should have asked her to save her guts and go away but he doesn't. he let's her in, not knowing that she has spent years of her heats trying to shove as much of her toys inside her as possible. she doesn't even mention the fact that she ends up fisting her cunt every heat cycle. or when she has a heat partner w a knot, that knot ends up inside her alongside a toy at the same time.

the Omega ends up meeting König, says she would like to help. he disagrees at first because he's not in the mood to take her to the hospital, he really really doesn't want to hurt her. but then she begs him to trust her w the sweetest face he's ever seen, lets him scent honesty all over her and he agrees to give her a chance.

König n the Omega end up talking abt gardening and the sellers at the market and the prices these days. they quickly bond over growing vegetables and their shared dislike for that one guy that sells strawberries and swears that they're that naturally huge (and they're not even sweet, what the hell??)

they agree on a date, and a time, they would try to see how it goes before König's rut hits, and if everything goes alright, they'll spend it together.

when they meet, König's weary, she's not, calm and happy as a clam. she asks him to trust her, and it starts off easy, she holds his hands and König shivers because his are literally giant mitts compared to hers. she sweet talks him into relaxing, she sits on his lap and they start talking a little, then she goes ahead and kisses him and he realises very quickly that he likes that, he really does, her lips taste sweet and her scent is so sweet and delicious.

König's alpha quickly realises that this may actually work and he gets excited in record time, tents his trousers and gets his mouth on her tits, it takes no time for her to start leaking like a broken faucet. König's hand are slippery between her legs and he's about to pass out at the intensity of it all. she's everywhere around him and all he can do is suck on her breasts and purr.

then he gets a finger inside her tight and warm hole. it's wet and feels soft. then another goes next. and another. all the while she's making all sorts of noises, clawing at him, and the more fingers he can push inside her the more he's awed and amazed because for someone so tiny and fragile, she sure as hell can take so much inside her.

König wants a better view so he gets her on the bed, laying on her back and absolutely hammers his fingers inside her cunt, watching her stomach bulge everytime he drives his fingers in.

he's about to lose his mind at the sight alone, and then she cries, squeals and squirts all over his hand and arm.

König then gathers her in his arms, chest to chest, gets his arms under her legs, as they're pressed against her body, practically folding her in half, carrying all of her weight in his massive arms like she was just a doll to him, and finally dips the head of his cock between her pussy lips. he starts to push further in and she's moaning, clawing at his neck, he gets halfway in and he's sweating bullets because she's so tight and she's pulsing around him and yet, he knows she can take more. and he was right because he keeps dropping her on his length until it's all inside, to the root, and she wails, comes again, shaking in his arms and König is losing his mind, his knot swelling in record time. when he comes, he's dizzy and he's heaving like he ran a marathon and he hasn't even thrusted inside of her just yet.

they make all sorts of noises when fucking. it's animalistic. König sounds like he's about to pass out and the Omega sounds like that's what she's been waiting for all of her life. It was filthy, intense and so fucking loud that when Gaz was sent to check on them, as they used one of the many cottages John's pack owns, the moment the smell hits his nose, he freezes and turns back around, he does not want to be anywhere near them if that's how potent their combined scent is.

at least he knows they're having a great time. so he goes back, well, more like runs back to the house, a little bit scared and excited because finally their Alpha got to knot someone!

and when all that's said and done, and the Omega and alpha come back to the shared house the next day. König is out of it, nothing but statics behind his eyes while the Omega looks content, eats everything she's offered by König's pack, starved. but winces once in a while when she moves in a certain way. she scents happy, and König scents confused but content nonetheless. and that's everything his pack wished for.

[mysteryshoptls]

SSR Trey Clover - Room Relaxation Vignette

"Happy Birthday"

[Interior Hallway]

Trey: Next class is… Oh, alchemy. There's stuff I need to prep for the experiment, so I guess I should head to the classroom already.

[Silver approaches]

Silver: Hello there, Trey-senpai...

Trey: Silver, hi. What's up, why are you staring at me so intently? Do I have something on my face?

Silver: Trey-senpai, is there anything you wish you had right now?

Trey: That's an unexpected question. Hmm, what do I want…?

Trey: Oh, maybe an automatic flour sifter? It'll speed things up and will keep my hands from getting too tired. It'd make baking sweets much easier on me.

Trey: Also, I'd like an apron. I have a few that I can hang from my neck, but that might cause my shoulders to get stiff, so I'd like to try out new kinds.

Trey: Plus, they tend to get pretty dirty before long, so it's never a bad thing to have too much.

Silver: I see… That was helpful.

Silver: Thank you. I think Riddle will be pleased once he hears what you've said.

Trey: Hm? Why are you bringing up Riddle?

Silver: Yesterday, before we began our club activities, Riddle was pondering over what to get you for your birthday.

Trey: Oh, so that's why you asked me what I'd want all of a sudden. …But hey, should you have told me all that…?

Silver: He seemed to be stuck in a conundrum, so I thought perhaps I could help with suggestions. Is that a problem?

Trey: Uhh, I mean, I thought maybe he might have been trying to keep the gift a secret, since he didn't come ask me directly…

Silver: …Forgive me if I've done something terrible to the both of you.

Trey: Y-You don't have to look that grave!

Trey: I'm sure this'll help him, so you should try telling him it was something you picked up through casual conversation.

Silver: I understand, I'll try telling him that. Thank you, Trey-senpai.

[Silver departs]

Trey: Yeah. See you, then.

Trey: Silver is one strait-laced guy. A bit different from the way Riddle is, that is...

[Heartslabyul Dorm – Hallway]

Trey: Ah… It's already past 8PM. I have to start making my rounds to see if anyone's breaking any of the Queen of Hearts' laws.

Trey: I'll go check out the kitchen first. I'd like to think there'd be no issues, but…

Trey: It'd be bad if there was someone trying to steal a tart from the refrigerator again, even if it's only a slim chance.

[Heartslabyul Dorm – Lounge]

Trey: So far, so good, for now. Next is the lounge. Hm? What's this smell…?

Trey: Hey, you two sitting on the sofa. What is that drink you have there?

Trey: Just as I thought, it's honey lemonade!

Trey: It's already 8PM. You planning on violating Queen of Hearts' Law Number 256?

[Heartslabyul Student A speaks up]

Trey: …Oh good, if you haven't actually drunk any, then that's fine. Make sure you pour it out before any issues arise.

[Heartslabyul Students A and B run away, Heartslabyul Students C and D arrive]

Trey: …Hm? Hey, you guys who just walked into the lounge, did I just hear you say "that turkey lunch was delicious"?

Trey: Do you remember the Queen of Hearts' Law Number 648? You forgot? It'd be bad if you violated that rule. Make sure you check if there were any others who might've forgotten, too!

[Heartslabyul Dorm – Trey's Room]

Trey: Phew, somehow, we got through the day without there being any rule violations. Please, all I'm asking is for them to do better at not getting caught…

Trey: Now that I've taken a shower and freshened up with a good teeth brushing, guess I can just relax a bit in my room.

[Heartslabyul Dorm – Trey's Room]

Trey: Oh, yeah, I should answer the Headmage's survey before I forget. Let's see, it's about…

「Survey on Quality of Life Improvements for the Student Body」

Trey: Things we want improved…? I feel like I could take it or leave it. Hmm, guess I'll try to think it over while drinking some tea.

Trey: …Oh. Ah, right, I just brushed my teeth using fluoridated toothpaste.

Trey: I can't let the fluoride film dissolve. I'll just drink water instead.

Trey: Even if I were to just brush my teeth again, the washroom always gets pretty crowded around this time, so it's not really a good time to go.

Trey: Sigh… If there were at least a sink in my room, I could do it all here, even my flossing…

Trey: I'd like to put that in the survey, but there's no way they'd accept me asking for a private washroom…

Trey: …Then, doesn't that mean it should just be that every room should have its own washroom?

Trey: Yeah. That might be a necessary change to make sure that all the students have clean dental health.

Trey: Even now, whenever I try to hand them floss, or tell them to brush more properly,

Trey: There's a ton of guys who only do it halfway, giving excuses like, "it's causing a line" in the washroom.

Trey: But it'd take too much time to renovate every single room. If I want them to renovate something while I'm still here at this school…

Trey: Oh, I know. I should write in the survey that I want them to "widen the washrooms."

Trey: That feels a little more realistic than asking for a private washroom for each room, so this request might get accepted, right?

Trey: If this actually comes to fruition, I would be able to go brush my teeth on my own preferred schedule…

Trey: And none of my other dormmates would be able to use the excuse that they'd be holding up other people in line.

[knock on door]

Trey: …Hm? Who's that? One second, I'll open the door.

[Heartslabyul Student E arrives]

Trey: One of my packages got mixed in with yours? Sorry for the trouble. Yeah, goodnight.

Trey: Wait, is this…? Ah, it is! It's the recipe book I bought online!

Trey: It had good reviews, so it grabbed my interest. Hmm, let's see… The sweets I wanted to make was…

Trey: Ah, found it. This is the one, combining cream and caramel into a puff pastry. This looks easier to make than I thought.

Trey: I need to try making it tomorrow… Ah wait, there's supposed to be a lot of sweets at the birthday party tomorrow.

Trey: Guess I'll have to wait until at least the day after tomorrow to try and make it. Oh man, just looking at this book is giving me more and more things I want to make.

[Heartslabyul Dorm – Trey's Room]

[alarm rings]

Trey: …Ugh…

[Trey slaps alarm off]

Trey: …Shut up.

Trey: …Is it morning already? Hrrrngh… Ugh…

Trey: Yaaawn… Glasses, glasses… Mmm… It's not here… Where is it…? Ah, found it.

Trey: Nnnnggh… I'm so groggy… Uhh… What's going on today again?

Trey: Oh, right. Today's my birthday party…

Trey: .....................

Trey: …Ack! This isn't good, at this rate, I'll fall back asleep. I should go wash my face and brush my teeth…

Trey: Mmm, I feel like my brain's finally working.

Trey: I only planned on skimming it, but I ended up staying up late reading through that recipe book

Trey: I'm not a morning person, so I was trying not to stay up too late… Guess I can't get carried away like that.

Trey: Alright, guess it's time to get ready for the day. I'll pull out my mirror and start with sunscreen… Oh, oops.

Trey: That was close. I still had my glasses on, I should take them off.

Trey: That reminds me, I remember when I once forgot to take off my glasses and took a shower with them on.

Trey: All the other guys in the dorm couldn't stop laughing at how my lenses fogged up, that it was a running joke for a little while after that.

Trey: Okay, I'm done applying it. This sunscreen is pretty easy to apply, so it helps me get ready faster.

Trey: "Do you find daily maintenance troublesome? All the more reason to pick and choose the exact items you use!"

Trey: …Or so Rook said, when he gave me this. It's definitely different than the one I used to use, that's for sure.

Trey: Guess I'll just buy the same thing again once I'm out. Oh, right. I need to do something for Rook to pay him back for this, too.

Trey: Okay, next are my eyebrows. I'll use a pen to gently give them shape…

Trey: …When I look at my eyes this way, it really looks like I have a mean glare.

Trey: Cater did say once that a lighter-colored eyebrow mascara could help give a gentler feel. Maybe I should try that next time…?

Trey: Nah, nevermind, it's not like I tend to glare whenever I'm wearing my glasses, so I can just leave it. If anything, it'd just be a pain to add more to my makeup regimen.

Trey: All it needs is to look good, right? Oh, and I should paint on my suit before I forget…

Trey: Back when I was a freshman, all my clovers tended to be asymmetrical, or distorted, or just plain misshapen…

Trey: Now, I'm able to draw it on pretty quick and cleanly. Guess I've just gotten better over the years. …Alright, I've finished applying everything, so now I can put my glasses back on…

Trey: As for my hair… It looks like I have a bit of bedhead. Maybe I shouldn't've been wearing a headband like this?

Trey: But hey, I should be able to fix that with a bit of brushing. I just have to be a little careful here… I guess this'll do.

Trey: Once I get changed into my school uniform, I guess I'll head to campus a little earlier today. After all, there's someone who's waiting to give me a surprise.

[Main Street]

Silver: Good morning, Trey-senpai.

Silver: I was able to inform Riddle of our conversation yesterday. The present he chose is…

Trey: Hey now, you don't have to say anything else! I'll save the surprise for when I actually receive the gift.

Silver: I see. I understand. Well then, I hope you have a good birthday.

[Silver departs]

Trey: Thanks. Sorry for all the trouble.

Trey: I'm perfectly happy if I can just have a peaceful day, sure… But I guess I can still get excited about getting birthday presents.

Requested by @farfalla049 and @sakurakudo.

[mermervi]

a christmas secret

✎ If you knew your boyfriend turned out to be such an asshole, you wouldn't even look at him in the first place. You'd have called off the engagement, of course, but you chose to stay for the sake of someone who sweetened your days and that someone is none other than your fiancé's brother. Leon. So how challenging can a family Christmas gathering be?

cw: MDNI, shameless smut, p in v, cheatingz!, unprotected segs goes hard ngl, bre3ding mayhaps, family drama aka kennedy family is the new kardashians, not proofread, sorry, praise kink, stomach bulge!, finger!ng, fem! reader, MDNI

find this work on ao3!

For Leon, this Christmas is overly festive, too much of an extravaganza. He has always hated family gatherings and has always been the type of boy who would retreat to his room after grabbing his share of the dishes his mother cooked for the house guests. No girls to bring home for his parents, no serious talks with them at all, and the concept of marriage has always been a total can of worms. For him there was Ada and the many nights he shared with her, nights of “oh, yeah. We fuck each other, and we don’t put a name to it.” This was more than enough for him but nothing to last forever.  

Until one day the tide completely turned the night he happened to meet you. He was quite surprised when he heard that his little brother, the one he thought was nothing but a good-for-nothing, had finally met “the one” a year ago. Quite frankly, all Leon could think of was a body mass with every known sexual disease in the world collectively stored in his nuts and sperm. Yes, he was clearly not very fond of his brother.  

He did, though, at the request of his father and mother, show up at last year’s get-to-know-the-new-girl-in-law dinner.  

And that was the night he saw you for the first time. The truth of the matter is you were far out of his brother’s league, along with the girls from all over the States, but Leon could only see an incapable man next to a pretty girl like you. Still, for the sake of pretending to be the good brother, he did the laughing and ate the food cooked that night. He pulled off a good Kennedy act, the best version of Kennedy his father could muster. Whatever his brother was, Leon was the opposite, and his father couldn’t have asked for anything more. He didn’t care what exactly was going on between his sons. The Dad of the Year, absolutely.  

Nobody could blame the old Kennedy. Leon was alright. Whatever. The other boy, however, is the equivalent of a child who was supposed to be jettisoned from the beginning and who, despite the condoms and the pills, was still accidentally conceived one night. He’s the headache itself. The only problem is that he has been so fucking blind to see this kind of unpleasantness and discomfort he has created for years. The guy lives in his own fantasy world.  

How he found someone like you is a veiled story behind the scenes.  

Leon really wanted to ask, quite a few times, but something stopped him, and the subject remained like a chest of unspoken family secrets. It went as far as getting your engagement with his brother.  

It was only a summer night when Leon found you crying alone by the pool outside the house that the tables were turned. The mother of your tears: his moronic brother. But why? Because he will never understand you. Thinking that you might actually find true love now seemed like a rookie mistake to you. So you cried. For Leon, it was just sad. Who knows how many times he had to comfort and sometimes even hug his brother’s female friends?  

Oh, and of course there was also the part of providing the most important detail that his brother was missing. Fucking those pretty girls. Hugs and heart-to-heart talks always led to the same thing. You, like the other girls, had found yourself in the same trap—the trap you had willingly walked yourself into—on top of him on a night of poolside fucking in a lounge chair. Doesn’t that make Leon an asshole? Perhaps, but at least Leon’s the kind of guy who has a sense of reverence for the women he sleeps with, whereas his brother... Well, Leon can’t find the right words in English for that guy.  

No beating around the bush, Leon wants the same thing tonight. The sex. Your sex. Why would he come to this stupid Christmas dinner anyway? For you, that’s the answer. Couple that with the fact that his job has kept him away from you for a couple of weeks—from the scattered things in life he likes to do—and you’ve got a man who’s been feeling peckish for many weeks.  

“Come on, big boy. Jus’ have a bite to eat.”  

Leon’s brother’s soused tones interrupt the eye contact between you and Leon, the one that has been covertly lingering on and off. He’s a piece of shit. It’s scarcely seven, and already he’s drunk as a doornail.  

Like a demented child, he leans over the table and brings his fork to Leon’s mouth, making artificial train noises in midair.  

“Now, now, my boy. Show me your mouth. Honk hooooooonk! Toot toot!”  

Your beloved fiancé forces the fork into Leon’s lips, which are pressed together to smooth matters over despite the sour expression on Leon’s face, as if he had just bitten into a lemon, and he doesn’t do much to hide it.  

At this point in your life, what could be more embarrassing than witnessing your fiancé doing this in front of all his relatives? And that’s coming from you—someone who usually doesn’t give a shit about relatives.  

Mercifully, Leon’s father saves the day when he raises a full glass of wine to draw the attention of the guests at the table to him.  

“Here’s to my beautiful family and to many happy years with them. With you guys. I love you all.”  

A sweet harmonization prevails around the table courtesy of this man. At least the eyes are where they should be, on the table, on the food, on whatever the good things are. What of your eyes? They are hunting for certain shades of blue, and when they locate them, the same kind of serene smile sits on his lips as on yours.  

Why is it that you feel so safe around him, but so bare around his brother and his kin? He’s their blood, but he acts just the way you always need him to be.  

Blending into your vista and turning the picture upside down, a red face suddenly intervenes between you and Leon. As it always does.  

“Heyyy.” He orates garishly and kisses your cheek.  

That’s not serious. Why must he butt his nose into absolutely everything? Sometimes you just want to throw away the ring and give a basket, then spit in his face and run like hell.  

Apart from the striking blue gaze, far away from Leon’s gaze, your fiancé’s attention is focused on you. More precisely, down your cleavage, or even exactly at the low-cut level.  

“What?”  

“What what what?” He’s parroting you, yammering.  

“Stop drinking like a horse and quit clowning around.”  

“Why? Tits the size of my head—”  

“Why don’t you shut your mouth? There are kids around. Screw you.” You look askance at him, but all to no avail. Yes, everything happens out of the prying eyes of the relatives—except for one person (Leon!), you and your fiancé are bickering at the mouths of each other. An outsider would even make a compliment about your idealistic relationship, saying something like—what a romantic lovebird these two are."

“Ha. Nice.” Your lover almost burps with a bitter taste on his tongue. In your face. “Huh. How about making them new cousins?” And as if his sobriety wasn’t already bad enough, he, of course, dares to dare to think about anything that pertains to his dick. What an idiot. Like he can even fuck you. This guy has been dead for some time. The alcohol does that shit, he says, but he’s always been all thumbs, dick down.  

“Get lost. Seriously. I’m on my period, anyway.” You lie, and within a split second your fiancé responds with a horrified scowl that is woven across his face like a tapestry. Of course you’re engaged to a misogynist and a guy who’s allergic to the subject of menstruation.  

“Yuck. No way. ‘m going to go now.”  

“What? Where to?”  

He stands up heedlessly, scrambling up the chair with the back of his shoe as you pelt him with a barrage of follow-up questions.  

“Hey, guys! I’m outta here.”  

He waves to everyone like a famous singer at a concert hailing his fans from the stage.  

This fucking guy...  

The assembled folks watch in silence for a spell as your fiancé staggers along in a drunken swagger. Even Leon watches him, and he knew from the moment he received the invitation that he was going to be subjected to such a moonstruck stunt. More or less, he could have guessed that the main character would be his stupid, dickhead of a brother.  

You try to recover from this situation with a short ha! of laughter without even letting the situation escalate into a real problem. “He’s too busy. Even on New Year’s Eve. Got... a call... from work. Yeah. He did—God. What a man. He makes me so proud.”  

What a shock.

Leon’s holding his laughter like it’s a sneeze at your eye-watering performance. Turns out everyone in this house who has or is about to have the last name Kennedy is always obliged to deal with the chaos created by that mindless pain in the ass. Tonight was no different from any other disaster, and Leon knows you’re a real Kennedy now.

“Yes, indeed. He’s just recently qualified. The boy is quite overwhelmed with business.” Mrs. Kennedy, sitting next to Leon and across from her husband, is quick to gloss over her young son’s asinine mistakes. It’s hard not to admire her as she does so. It’s her aura that speaks, not her, and it’s at that particular minute that you decide that some of Leon’s facial features descend from her. Like mother, like son.  

The table stills after another parental rescue drill. Not a bad kind of night, you might say. The conversation circulates. You make the acquaintance of people who aren’t so black and white. Turns out the Kennedy bloodline isn’t all bad, sort of. American as apple pie, Italian as... pizza?  

All this talking, socializing, and blah blah blah goes right through your social battery. That’s enough people and new faces. It wouldn’t hurt to venture out into the garden and catch some air. Maybe light a cigarette. You never know.  

Excusing yourself from the throngs of people, you finally step out of the back door of the kitchen through the patio door leading to the backyard.

The bracing air from yesterday’s foot-deep snow is wafting sweetly across your face. The ground beneath your feet is still dewy, and the caked snow sticks to your soles. Too much on your mind to give a crap. That stupid boyfriend of yours is the culprit of it all. Easy.

Raising the joint in your hand, you roll a cigarette and cradle it between your lips. You dig in your pocket for the lighter you think is in your dress pocket, but no luck so far.

Within a scant few seconds, the gentle gusts of breeze blow into waves of bone-chilling cold and spray your skin under the thin fabric of your dress. Silly you are. It’s a recipe for disaster to be going out in such weather without even putting on a single jacket.

You’re kicking yourself from the inside.  

Luckily, the sliding door behind you flings to the side. It’s none other than your soon-to-be brother-in-law. Squinting at you in the twilight, as if he’s judging you. Yes, yes, yes, yes. What a way to be out in the cold, damn it. He most likely will lecture you. You know the drill.

“Is this the way to go out in this cold, sweetheart?”  

Called it!  

You just shrug your shoulders, and Leon lines up next to you. He looks at the cigarette between your lips with a bogus hint of titter. “You know these things will kill you.”

What a wiseass.

As you flick your lighter, he takes off his brown jacket, which you think is new and pretty. He looks good with it.

Unexpectedly, the gesture is a small token from his heart. He slides the jacket over your shoulders, and you notice the flashes of sparkles that fill his eyes. Tonight, especially after yesterday’s bellowing of flaky snow, there is a distinctive gale in his eyes under the arch of the constellations and the blue-gray moon—like two small globes of blue-sky moon.  

“You must really like staring at me.”  

This man is a dab hand at deflecting attention with a comment that will definitely ruin the whole moment. It must be a family thing, you decide.  

“No, I’m surprised. Look at you looking like such a show-off. You’ll catch cold.” Your voice is laughable and blurred from the cigarette between your lips.  

“Don’t even think about it.”  

Just as you’re about to take the jacket off you and return it to his arms, Leon holds you by the arm and then intercepts you. Doesn’t take you seconds to register that you have been missing his touch all along in your memory. It’s so distant yet so fresh.  

The stillness of the night falls between you, leaving a familiar glow inside your bones—white and aurelian. It’s all the same to Leon. Moments like these are potentially precarious, and it’s usually Leon who does something to diffuse the situation in those peak seconds of emotional overload. Practical wit.  

He takes the lighter from the palm of your hand and with a few flicks, ignites the cigarette’s stub. His free hand instinctively cups around the bluish, wavering flame. He watches and waits until you take a drag — notwithstanding the sharp, burning wallop searing through his palm. Worth it, he figures. The agony in his hand is only temporary, a demising singe. Yet the fire inside you? That’s something else, something you both share. You’re burning in your lungs. He’s burning in his hand. Unquestionably, with an esoteric surrender. 

“Thanks.” You exhale away from him. In his case, Leon fiddles idly with the same lighter. He looks contemplative.  

Must be an acquired connotation to that expression on his face. Sometimes you really wonder what on earth is going on in his head. You would have sacrificed your fiancé to cut open Leon’s head and find out what’s going on inside his head during such hush-hush intervals, really. It wouldn’t be half bad. The world would be rid of a piece of shit, and eventually, you would have peeled back the layers and understood who Leon Kennedy really was.  

You raise your brow at him and grill him while he snatches the fag he robbed from your lips. He takes a long draw. By heart he knows the taste of your lips, all paper-wrapped and kissed.  

“Whatcha got there? Cherry lip gloss?”  

“Yup.” You hum in approbation, and now you watch the heady vapors drifting from his lips, frost-kissed red as fresh grains in a pomegranate against the biting cold.  

What is clear is that you both crave to be with each other. Why, Anna wants Vronsky like Vronsky wants Anna, like Vronsky has that mad, demeritorious longing for Anna. And for Leon, you’re what they might label that weird thing inside him.

“Come with me to the greenhouse. Now.”  

“What? N-now? The surge in your speech ripples, either from the cold or sheer astonishment.

With the last puff, Leon throws the cigarette on the snow-carpeted ground and treads on the glowing ash with the sole of his shoe. The next thing you know—  

He grabs you by the wrist and drags you behind him to the glass vestibule of his mother’s one and only conservatory. All this silence, all these initiatives are the signs that he has a master plot in his head, and you’re just getting the hang of it.

“This is insane. House is teeming with people. We... we should wait for them to sleep.”  

Your words make no sense, at least for Leon, and yes, they are sensible, but Leon’s a recalcitrant one. He’s straight in his head.  

“Oh, that’s it?” He lets you in and zooms out the door behind you. Naturally, he first snoops around to see if the place is empty or not. He doesn’t have to search every corner. The survival instinct that comes with his profession assures him that the place is pretty vacant from the moment he steps foot inside.

Your tentative steps are no different than trekking through a minefield. You trust him, but getting nabbed is always a contingency.

“Yeah. Fat chance, sweetheart. It’s now or never.” Leon whispers a brickbat, mimicking the way you croon your words when you feel imperiled. The two of you cross a lane, and Leon turns to you. Curling his fingers around the delineation of your waist, he lifts you onto a sturdy mahogany tabletop that his mother usually decorates with lovely flowers. Show off.  

“What if someone—”  

He heckles you obliquely with his index finger, pressing it just slightly to your lips.  

“I’ll be completely honest when I say this to you. Everybody knows that we’re fucking.”  

“They do?”  

Leon offers one affirmative shake of the head. “My dad and ... my mom... well, she knows everything.”  

“Christ.”  

How much more scandalous information can Leon reveal about his family, you ponder, as your darling brother-in-law rucks the hem of your dress up and you, with what must be muscle memory, spread your legs apart to give him more room to do his thing.

“I knew it.”  

He makes a subtle jab at the sheer wetness staining the frilly seam of your panties. Inoffensive, alright. Call a spade a spade; you’ve been sitting wet from the very beginning of the evening—or rather, from the second you glanced in Leon’s direction. Kind of like a stupid baby who peed her pants.  

“You’re wet, missy.”  

Don’t mind your panties skimming down to your ankles, just around your heels.  

His touch, the one you have been yearning for, sinks into you in two fingers, scissoring your pussy with his middle and ring finger, and your heart nearly pops out of your throat. He could have taken out his phone and taken a picture of a memory he didn’t want to forget, a cover photo that could have been the most memorable snapshot of your face—the most beautifully captured moment of the year.

“So tight,” his whisper sears your chest, “he could never give you what you want, and he will never give you what you want. Gotta be thankful that you have me.” 

Well, you’ve never been a thankful person, but maybe now is the time for a character transformation. Maybe you really should thank your brother-in-law for his very existence this year as he fucks his fingers into your velvety folds.  

“Hmmm? What you say? Don’t you fuck him just to keep yourself for me?”  

“Maybe.” Your breath touches his cheek, like a summery kiss, as he thumbs the spot that makes you squeeze down on his digits.  

“Not the answer I expected, though not that I care. I have more important things to do.”  

He’s talking about important things like you, to be sure, or your lovely cunt where the slick is bleeding on his fingers.  

When he’s sure he can fit himself in, he samples his glistening fingers himself, in his own mouth. A familiar taste, yes, but it leaves a trace of saccharin on his tongue that he has been denied for quite a long time. When it’s forbidden, it’s the lushest.  

“Maybe I’ll eat you tomorrow morning after breakfast.”  

How funny. No offense, but he sucks at these quip games.  

Neither he nor you have the patience to wait any longer in the rush of this. Whatever this is. Quick as it is, Leon wraps your legs around his hips, which he grasps by your calves.  

You do the rest and release him with your hand, loosening the belt around his waist and running your hand down to the zipper of his pants. Either it’s something in your imagination, or tonight he seems bigger to your eyes than you can ever remember him being. That, and the scars, which you can now observe so vividly for the first time. They’re emblazoned on his pale hide and mar him in angry pinks and ultraviolets. As much as you want to touch them, to plant those healing kisses, it’s Leon who stops you.  

“We don’t have time.”  

You already know that. In his defense, Leon and you have made one thing clear from the beginning: no feelings attached!  

So maybe in another universe you had the right Kennedy, and you were the one who lay with him in the same bed. You had a life beside him, with a cat and a dog, plus a roof over your head. Tragically, in this universe you were the cheating slut who cuckolded her fiancé, and he’s the asshole who banged his brother’s fiancée.  

“We don’t have time,” says the smartass, as he strokes the reddish tip of his cock back and forth over your wet entrance and repeats it like a looped movie script. It’s enough to piss you off, but your impatience is through the roof.  

“Please. Please, Leon.”  

The first thing he’s anticipating is the begging stage. But he wants more than that. And you know it.  

“Expecting better words from that witty mouth.”  

You bite your lower lip, and no, that’s not what he’s expecting nor what he aspires to.  

Leon pulls back a little and lays hold of his cock by the shaft. It’s leaking from the tip, and he smears the pre-cum by gliding the fat head of his dick into your slit. Smart saving, no wasted material.  

“See?” He massages the fluids with his ring finger, rubbing everything inside. “How your little pussy loves me. Your body wants me, sweetheart.” 

He then spits on his palm, garbing the dew over his cock, and proves his practical acumen even if he comes up with a solution that is not particularly hygienic.

“Now you tell me. Want me to fuck a little Kennedy in this pretty pussy?”

You should be ashamed of yourself. That you’re dying for this. Synonyms for these images of humiliation don’t even cross your mind during those seconds.

You don’t know how many times you have shaken your head at him, but it’s so worth it to see that boyish grin on his face. 

“I want it, Leon. Nothing but you.” You are no longer begging but spewing the truth as almost a last resort.  

Leon feels a thrill of elation at the way you squeeze him as he slides into you, tighter than sin. Your lips are sucking in a delicate puff of breath, and he’s not even inside you.  

The table beneath you is virtually slipping out of your palms, but fortunately you have him. He always holds you and always gives you whatever you want. He pulls on your hips, and moonlit tears well up in your eyes, stinging your lashes.  

“Damn, gorgeous. Can barely fucking fit.” The rasp of his lilt in his voice, the rush of his fingers on your hips. It’s all turning your head topsy-turvy. Slow, perhaps lazy thrusts push inside you, and your fluttering walls memorize the shape and outline of a cock that fucks you up inside and out. He leans back and wins as his dick melts into you, inch by inch, deeper and deeper, and the parting of his lips breaks into a grin as you near your limit with a newly forming bulge inside your stomach.

Only then do you auscultate the scratchy urge seething inside him.

“Look at this. Too big for ya? God—missed this pretty pussy so bad.” 

More than you have missed him?

Or does he even realize how wretchedly you tighten around his cock when you hear the subtle eulogy out of his mouth?

This is Leon you’re talking about. Of coure, he feels you. The guy worships you.  

He knows and reads your body, your soul. Goes further when you gently repel back to meet his hips, to less when he realizes that your hand is curling into a fist on his abdomen, and tenses up when he lashes your cervix with a very hard stab.

Everything is for you: every error he has made and will ever repeat and every right he will ever do.  

So is the way his lips quest for yours. The kiss rips out everything in your brain that belongs to survival instincts—rough and soft in equal measure—utterly debauched. His demanding hands play with your right tit poking out of your dress as if it were his own personal meat and vein toy. Hands reach up from his biceps down to his forearms, helpless, and you cling tightly to his shoulders because his body is the only thing that is holding you on the end of the table right now. He’s the only thing keeping you here, against the freezing degrees outside, against the happy house imaginary, against the people in it.  

Your mutinous whimpers choke in your own throat in an audible volume, and you recoil from his lips as if you are screaming in a nightmare but happen to have lost your voice. Eyes glazed, and both your lips are alizarin to the point of bleeding.  

“Look what I fucking do to you, greedy girl.” He reaches down your neck. Doesn’t choke you, though.

He’s the one who made you this way. Tonight he’s just more cynical than you’ve ever known him to be. Dirty talk will definitely rattle around in your brain in the most unlikely of places—maybe during a briefing, or maybe when you’re sitting with your beloved husband-to-be, sipping coffee or hot chocolate together.  

“I can’t. Leon. I think I—” The little words you’re trying to say just won’t come out of your mouth. You push so hard, but there’s simply no way through. Those mental words linger in your mind like clouds of rumination, leaving you mouth agape.  

“Yeah, me too.” He whispers quite musings as his thumb finds the pearl of your clit.

That’s exactly where the hell breaks loose. You no longer possess the vigor to spring up on the table, nor does he have the stamina to be sucked into the molten lava in which he’s melting and kindling.  

Drunken mistakes or impulses often drive people to make a choice they will regret. Your ineptitude is a down payment. Right there and then, you blanket his still throbbing cock, and he’s blinking his eyelashes together. All that ponderous, stinging thrusting, now numb and sporadic.  

“I’ll give you, give you—my baby.”  

Famous last words.

Still, he’s the prettiest man you’ve ever seen. Really, the very essence of male beauty must have been invented for him, or you’re just too fucked up here.

To him, you’re so beautiful, and you take his cock so nicely. Absolutely worth its weight in gold.

With his face sunk into your neck, he moans, making a note of total bliss as he bottoms out, filling you as intensely as possible. Leon betrays a breath of air and closes his eyes for a second as your lovely pussy sucks in every lingering drop.

Your pulse is as senile as an oldie; you’re flushed and panting, gripping the edge of the table beneath you.

The rank ham-fistedness of your conduct dawns on both of you as you both only just regain your composure.

“Merry Christmas, beautiful.” So effortlessly, as if what happened between you hadn’t even had a spare moment to touch you—both emotionally and physically—as if he isn’t still inside you, he gives you his New Year’s wishing.  

“Merry Christmas, Leon.” Back at him, you sigh exasperatedly. No harm done. Can’t help wishing that the new year will be spent right next to him.

“Are you ready to get up, or should I carry you?”  

“Have I told you how hilarious you are?”  

“Oh, honey. The girls love it. So do you.”  

He crowns his comedy rehearsal, which is guaranteed to get a standing ovation, with a conical hat that he finds on the table at a random and very absurd moment and plonks it on your head. You nearly flinch.  

“There you go. Now you fit the theme.” 

[numberonetacostan]

ONE HEADCANON FOR EVERY II CHARACTER!

Hello everyone!!!!!^^ For a little holiday season special, I’ve typed out a little headcanon for every character!!! By character I mean contestants + host + assistants!!!!! Sorry to all the Nick Le fans out there, he is not included. Since everyone is here, there are characters I may not know as well as my main roster, so if I get anything like, objectively wrong, feel free to let me know!!!^^ Please enjoy!!! (ﾉ´ヮ`)ﾉ*: ･ﾟ

Apple- Her favorite song is Pink Pony Club by Chappell Roan. She doesn’t really understand the lyrics but she really likes ponies!!!! I also think she’d start misspelling her name as “Appell” pretty often after she finds the song. 

Balloon- The first thing Suitcase does with her prize money is buy him a poetry book. He is so very moved by this and writes her dozens of poems with various styles he sees in the book within a few days. He’d read from the book and his own works to Suitcase every night before they go to bed. Some others could join in for a nice bedtime story :). 

Baseball- Once, while the hotel was under construction, Baseball fell down the stairs. And then kept rolling. And rolling. And bouncing. And rolling some more. Overall it set construction back two weeks and Paintbrush broke their leg trying to help stop him. Baseball was banned from the hotel until the elevators were finished. 

Bomb- He can’t eat spicy food. As in he’s banned from eating spicy food. If he gets too hot, he can accidentally set himself off, so despite his claim that he has a great spice tolerance, he is not allowed anywhere near the hot sauce. He doesn’t complain about the ban anymore post-canon, too risky, yeah? 

Bow- She watches so very many makeup tutorials, but being a ghost, can’t practice any of it on herself. That is, unless she possesses someone, like Marsh who would be very easy to put makeup on relative to other objects!!! She’d probably get pretty good at it, after some time, and Marsh would have some lovely new eyeshadow looks every day! 

Knife- He has a longer ghost tail than Dough and Bow do, so I propose him wrapping said tail around people and things he likes!!! Wraps around Pickle when they’re standing next to each other, wraps around Suitcase’s handle when they’re together, etc.!!! He’d get rather flustered if anyone called him out on it. 

Lightbulb- Gives incredible hugs. Incredible. How does an object made of glass and metal give such cuddly, warm hugs? Nobody knows. Sometimes she’ll turn herself on during the hug to make it extra warm!! As long as the person she’s hugging closes their eyes, it really elevates the already sacred experience of a Lightbulb hug. Luckily for everyone else, she is always happy to give one!^^

Marshmallow- She’s still pyrophobic after having been burnt all those years ago. As a very flammable marshmallow, fire would be scary to her anyways, but after having been roasted it’s a whole other story. She’d rather freeze than get close to a fire, but that’s not a problem since there’s a certain fruit always willing to warm her up with a hug <3!!

Nickel- He became very, very, very nervous to give his apology to Suitcase after she blew up Cobs and ate his corpse. He was planning to apologize either way, but clearly Suitcase could absolutely obliterate him if she wanted to do so, which means this apology has to be quite good or else. He has a serious amount of respect for her now. An upgrade, I’d say. 

OJ- His favorite Pokémon is Charizard. It’s orange, it’s very popular, OJ loves it. I know Justin has made a list of the contestant’s favorite Pokemon, but I have not read it in a while so Charizard it is!!!

Paintbrush- Experiments a lot with their image after season 3, mostly by dyeing their bristles with paint!!! Lightbulb helps :3!!! And by helps I mean makes it silly and very fun. Maybe she puts a little dot between Painty’s eyes to give them a “nose”. I think they’d try a solid color first, then maybe a fade, and eventually dye the nonbinary flag into their hair!!! They slay it of course. 

Paper- Pickle once wrote “Property of OJ” on Paper’s back and he didn’t notice for three days. No one told him it was there. When he asked everyone why in the world they would not inform him they said it was because they all thought OJ had written it and he was keeping it because he liked it. OJ did not know why Paper avoided eye contact with him for a week that one time but he did not like it. 

Pepper- Hotel OJ head chef. Yeah you heard me. Let me cook by letting her cook!! Salt wouldn’t like cooking, too much work, so this is something Pepper could enjoy on her own!! And it would be the sole reason that OJ has not yet kicked Salt out of the hotel- if he does than Pepper might be too sad to cook, and with the depressingly low amount of hotel residents that can make food, and the even smaller amount who are willing to make enough food for everyone, they need her. And, if Payjay help out, they can spend more time with her and get to know and enjoy her presence without Salt ruining it!

Pickle- With some help from Tea Kettle and Pepper, he makes Knife a new Dora doll post-finale, since it vanished with the rest of the stuff made by MeLife. He lets Knife possess him if he wants to hug the doll, but it also gets possessed by Knife so he can hug Pickle. Ah shit sorry my Knickle got all over the headcanon dang it. 

Salt- I headcanon her as the only cisgender, straight, alloromantic (I think that’s the right term?) member of the cast. Basically the only one who isn’t queer at all. But uh an actual headcanon for the ~60 or so Salt fans out there, both she and Pepper sleep with those little hair bonnets on to keep their salt and pepper from falling out of their heads in their sleep. 

Taco- This one is fitting for the winter season!! Taco is afraid of snow. Like, straight up terrified. I think she would grab a bunch of blankets and hide in the vents of the mansion whenever it snows, so she can be inside of the inside, as far and safe from the snow as she can be!! Having been homeless for years, she’s had some miserable experiences with hypothermia after it snows, and now that she has a home to live in, she’ll be staying inside until all the snow has melted. 

Mephone- I think he should have a pet bug post-canon. A little beetle or something that just chills on his head and feasts on the many crumbs he gets on himself while he eats. An intelligent one, like Baxter!!! Since we know Mephone will be stepping up into the more ‘big brother’ sort of role for 3GS, I think the bug would be a good outlet for Mephone to talk about his more intense feelings, specifically revolving around Mepad and the contestants. I also think, following his very creative naming of the contestants, the bug would be named Buggy. 

Box- I think she would be an insomniac. After years and years of living in an empty, timeless void-space thing, she’d have a lot of trouble getting to sleep!! She’d definitely need the whole works, warm milk, cheese, lullabies, etc., etc., just to get to sleep, and even then she probably wouldn’t sleep for very long. A lot of nightmares on this one, yeah? 

Cheesy- I think he’d actually quite enjoy eating cheese, as long as it’s not a chunk like he is. He’ll eat nachos, pizza, mozzarella sticks, grilled cheese, etc., etc., but he will not eat cheese cubes. He’d make approximately 5 cannibal jokes every time he does this, and this average goes up to 8 if Pickle is around. 

Cherries- They give Toilet their old Mepad mask post-canon, to try and make him feel better. Toilet might hang out with them a bit more after this- they can do some drawing together!! The more prank-buddies, the merrier, yeah? 

Dough- He eventually did get the recording of Bow saying that he was her brother!! Was it a cut-off version of her denying it yet again (though this time more playfully than anything)? Yes. Does that make him any less happy about having it? No. 

Fan- Out of everyone, he’s the most upset about II ending, and wants to find a new special interest!! He’d try a whole bunch of things, games, music, movies, TV shows, art, and I think it would be funny if he settled on the ii-universe equivalent of Survivor, since it was such a big inspiration for II!! He’d also occupy himself with being very interested in whatever Test Tube is doing and cheering her on!!! Also being a good Dad to Bot!!^^

Microphone- Has, on occasion, accidentally had her volume button pressed in her sleep and woke not only herself but everyone in the vicinity up with her snoring. The first time it happens post-canon it takes her a half-hour to get a very startled and scared but very sleepy and confused Taco to come out from her hiding spot under the bed. 

Soap- Her soap is french vanilla and rose scented!!! She’d find her own scent rather pleasant, yeah? I think being empty for her would have a similar effect on her as it does on objects like OJ and Test Tube, though if she’s in a real pinch she will use her own soap to get clean!! Letting someone use her soap would be a sweet gesture of love/appreciation from her!!!

Suitcase- Balloon would write her a lot of poems once they’re back together post-canon, and she’d keep them all inside of her!! She’d keep a lot of special little gifts from important people inside of her. The stone that Knife set beside her the first time they spoke on the docks, a dried flower bracelet from Box, whatever suits her fancy! (Get it? Ge- ‘cause she’s a suitcase? okay ill leave).

Test Tube- I think she would make phones for everyone post-canon!!!^^ It’s a big island, yeah? And they really need to be able to contact each other in case of emergency, with them being able to truly die now. She could make a functioning rocket out of a vending machine, I fully believe she could make however-many functioning phones out of what she can find on the island. (Or even better, Mepple HQ. I think they all should loot it.)

Tissues- He likes coding :) I personally hate coding, because I sucked at it in school and never want to look at one of those evil “easy kids coding” websites ever again. HOWEVER coding is something he could still do while he’s feeling sick, most of the time!! And we have quite a few gamers living in the hotel, so it would be a great way for him to connect with others!!!

Trophy- He always enjoyed photography as a hobby, but very much threw himself into it after being freed from the elimination closet. After months of seeing nothing but the snotty closet walls, he had a lot more appreciation for scenic and natural photographs. He’d hang a lot of them on the wall of his room to look at as he sleeps, since the rooms don’t have windows. 

Yin-Yang- This one is from my partner @galacticrain!! Because I consider them my resident yin-yang expert^^ Yang isn’t actually gluten free, like he says in season 2 episode 5, he just knew that Yin would confess to the eating of Dough if he put any ounce of pressure on him to tell the truth. 

Mepad- Another cold weather hc! As a Mepple device, he doesn’t really get cold! However, during their first winter together, Toilet worries that Mepad has no winter clothing!!! He buys Mepad one of those super fluffy, pink cases. Mepad does not take it off for months, until his systems start to overheat because of it. 

Toilet- I think he would be rather curious about what having limbs is like. He wouldn’t be particularly upset about his own lack of limbs, just curious!^^ He would ask Mepad about his legs, (try to) ask Mephone about his arms, and maybe make a little doodle of himself with a lot of limbs. A biblically accurate Toilet, if you will.

Blueberry- I like to think his white eyes glow a bit. He functions best in pitch-black darkness, yeah? So imagine you’re walking in the dark and two white eyes are staring at you from the depths. He would love scaring people with it, I think. 

Bot- Hanging out with everyone post-season 3 finale and even more so post-canon, they discover that they really do love videogames, similar to what they told Cabby!! They would absolutely dominate in fighting games, and would main R.O.B. in Super Smash Bros.!!! A fellow robot with a 3 letter name? Sign them UP. 

Cabby- She is endlessly fascinated by how Taco’s arms work. They just…go back in? How? Could she pull them out backwards? Both on the same side? Could she reverse them? Taco does not know either, and the two of them spend a full day together just trying to figure out how they work. Cabby gets a lot of new info about them, and Taco in general, after that :). I’m projecting but I think Cabby would be curious too.^^

Candle- Her meditation training post-canon is what keeps like half the cast from losing their minds after everything that happens. She is very very much needed after… all that. Meditation would help her too, of course, in the way that it usually does, but being so helpful would probably make her feel better than that. 

Clover- She was once blown across the entire island because someone dropped a penny on the ground. It was a particularly shiny penny, though, and the year was one her many, many lucky numbers!!

Goo- My little fella!!! Uh obviously he and Bot would make comics together. They like to draw, he likes to write, it’s perfect!!!! They could help him condense his writing down into a comic format as well!!! They could also make fanart and fanfics together!!! Goo would be a shipper I think he already ships Silver and Painty if you sit that little guy down in front of Steven Universe he will explode. 

Lifering- With everyone losing their immortality post-canon, he quickly becomes one of the most popular among the contestants. Twisted your ankle? Go see Lifering. Migraine? Go see Lifering. Ate the mushrooms that Taco very clearly told you were poisonous? Hurry to Lifering!! He’s happy to be of so much help, but gives some long and rather informative lectures on proper safety checks. 

Silver Spoon- Fills his room with candles. Particularly purple ones. And ones scented with lavender and chamomile. He’ll go on and on about how much he loves candles. Particularly purple ones scented with lavender and chamomile. No one can tell if Candle is trying to politely turn him down or really hasn’t noticed. He progressively gets more and more obvious with his candle collection and nearly sets a building on fire. 

Tea Kettle- #1 Nickloon shipper. I’m serious. Whether they get together or not, she ships it. I don’t think she’d be pushy about it, insistent that they get together if they’re interested in other people, but… we know silly Nickel, always chasing a Balloon. And if he needs a little help catching it, TK will be there in a flash!!!! She’d make them a little romantic picnic complete with hors d’oeuvres! 

The Floor- My guy The Floor still visits Mephone almost daily post-canon. I really don’t see the guy being super upset or holding a grudge over Mephone having made him. He’s pretty cool, if he does say so himself!!^^ And they’re buddies, anyways, so Floory would want to check in on him after his abusive father killed everyone and then was exploded!!!! He might even befriend 3GS while he’s at it :).

[drewdoa]

ˋ°•*⁀➷ arcane goes gardening <3 • hcs/scenarios !

ˋ°•*⁀➷ a/n: hello :)) this is so me coded it’s scary LMAO but i had to since i also enjoy gardening <3 hopefully this is something i can write about more cause omg i can’t get enough of this

ˋ°•*⁀➷ extra info: suggestive moments while intoxicated, cnc touching, no gender specific reader, a whole lot of flirting ;)

jinx

would be such a lady and always light you up. it’s her favorite thing honestly, she usually carries a lighter around you now because of it. you found out she started smoking cause you found her box un covered on her desk, not that she had a problem with you seeing it of course, but more of just “hey you kinda wouldn’t expect that from me!”. but you did, which is the funniest part.

making her way down the stairs as the sound of metal pieces clank together, she turned her head to see you standing there by her chair. as jinx made her way down the last few steps she greeted you with a kiss, a passionate one at that. she noticed one of your hands was holding the half finished joint, beautifully wrapped with purple rolling paper.

she looked back at you with an innocent face. “could ya blame me? i even made some for you too darlin’” she said softly, moving the box and pulling the few untouched ones behind her books. “i couldn’t keep it alll to myself”

this ended up with you guys seshing every evening, especially on nights where it’s foggy. less likely to get caught since you’ve got vi and caitlyn to worry about. they can’t let the council know you two have “drugs” around enforcers.

because of that fact though, she picked up baking and learned to make infused pastries! you came back to her place as the scent of trees and cookies followed immediately. it took you a lot of power to not steal one while jinx was icing them <3

i feel like this ties to her growing in the undercity but when she was younger with silco he taught her how to roll. as bad as that sounds..i would say she learned by watching more than him actually teaching her. she would take papers and filters here and there and just practice all the time. making comments about how the colors of the paper were pretty every time he got a new pack.

ugh she’s so a good kisser when stoned it’s un real. you’ve told her about it once and she laughed at you, but you were serious. “i think maybe YOU were a little too high, i kiss you like that all the time!”. she would protest every time until one night both of you got extremely touchy, and one thing led to another. safe to say, you were not too high <3

viktor

my man absolutely loves weed. even attempted (and successfully managed) to grow his own. knowing viktor, lets be honest, he’s gotta have some secret rooms or spaces to do his own shit. like he genuinely lives in the lab how could he resist. so, one late night he told you to come by, which is pretty rare for him since he really is a workaholic. by the time you got there viktor had everything set up, pretty lights everywhere, he looked handsome, and it was just the two of you<3

time goes by and both of you are sitting near a window, he pulls out a small book and gives it to you. as you examine the cool old leather, he opens the book with his fingertips, to the pages on the inside carved out. it would hold a lighter and 3 joints perfectly wrapped in pink rolling paper.

viktor smirked at you, “i thought you’d get a kick out of the pink, dítě (baby)”. he motioned for you to take one as he grabbed the lighter out the book. as you pressed the paper against your lips, the crack of the lighter followed as you took the first hit . or two, or three.

you passed it to him not long after, his gaze fixed on your face and your eyes as you became more and more intoxicated. as he took a few pulls himself he put it out on the windowsill. both of you sitting there relaxed as ever, in the most vulnerable position.

since then, he would leave you joints in the pocket of your jackets. always with a little note on the side. he would also throw in pieces of candy with it too incase you craved something sweet.

one night you came into the lab after taking an edible jayce and jinx gave you. they of course didn’t mention they were infused, but your first instinct was to find viktor before it really hit you. he greeted you with a kiss on the cheek wrapping his hand around your waist. you then explain to him why you’re really there and he lets out a low giggle. “they really played you huh?” he followed with as his hand slid up your side. his cold hands made it even worse to ignore the feeling. skin to skin, he wasn’t joking when he said he was into it.

usually when you’re stoned and all up on him, he takes such advantage of it in the best way possible. his hands are almost always touching you, teasing and making you feel good without overwhelming you. sometimes you don’t even notice hickeys on your body until you’re fully sober. of course when you went to ask viktor about it he tries to play it off, but the blush on his cheeks and the smile he can’t hide say otherwise<3

silco

a guy who favors cigars but weed just for you. i feel like his hands are shakey sometimes now so he has trouble rolling, especially all those years of teaching jinx he’s earned a break. hence why he surprised you one day with a bong. see through red glass and shaped like two cherries. he thought you wouldn’t mind it, especially since you’ve been talking about getting a new one.

at first you were nervous to open the box once he told you it was glass (..shocked he didn’t break it himself) but it was totally worth being careful cause it’s the coolest thing you’ve ever received. he even got you a cute lighter that matches.

during nights where he’s up and can’t sleep he’ll pull you over so cuddle and sesh together. having your back against his chest as the sound of his cigar popping and burning fills your ears. you would be using the bong here, practically hotboxing his office and laughing when people walk in to you both higher than the sky.

i feel like he would also have a special drawer dedicated to all his trees. and then have a special compartment for all your stuff <3 refilling things when you run out so you never go a moment without, it’s the father tendency in him.

i think his favorite saying is “you need a break, mon cherie” as he drags you into his office for a sesh. he never really cares if you have “one more thing to finish”, he doesn’t want you overworking yourself, that’s his job really!

if you both had to go somewhere around people (after seshing) he would totally just give you his clothes. next thing you know both of you are matching, you smell like him, and honestly you look great in his coat. he’s also definitely the type to check on you often incase you smoked a little too much and can’t handle it. “mon amor are you feeling alright?” “do you feel okay, love?” “is this too much for you, sweetie?”

sevika

she’s so mama ugh. nothing but the best from sevika honestly. she’s always prepared for you with anything you ask for. she always has her cigars and such but there’s a special part just for you.

since you’re with her almost all the time, you’ve grown to find comfort in the scent of cigars. even the clothes you wear end up smelling like it, but you don’t mind, all you think about is her. it took her some time to get used to you though, but what caught her the most is that you..weren’t afraid of her?

she hasn’t met many people that match her freak, so it was a big refresher when you came along. but her favorite moment will always be when she caught you smoking in her room. sevika’s huge frame leaned on the doorway as she watched the smoke leave your body. you put your arm out with a j in your hand and motioning her to come sit with you. immediately the door closed as sevika sat on the bed and pulled you into her lap.

“how often do you do this without me?” sevika questioned, looking down at your red hazy eyes. “high eyes have always been gorgeous, yours especially, sweetheart”. sevika thought of these moments as core memories, since she doesn’t usually have time alone with you.

when munchies kick in it’s wraps for you guys. kitchen dates are what mainly pull you two together. i feel like cooking is such a good love language and it doesn’t get talked about enough. (i saw someone point out the fact sevika is obviously an indian queen so that also is gonna apply here <3). she’s very much a fan of cooking dishes from her country and having you try each and every one of them.

totally the type to baby you when you’re bedrotting while high. definitely pulls you on top of her when sleeping to feel your warmth. or you both end up wrapped so tight in blankets you can’t move off eachother ;)). speaking of, in the winter time her room gets extremely cold so both of you guys end up making robes out of her blankets (take viktor styling jayce’s blanket for example<3). she hangs every one of them in her closet during the warmer weather <3

˚₊ · »-♡→ heyy ;)) i hope this fic was enjoyable <3 more of my content will have themes surrounding cannabis/smoking so that’s just a heads up ^_^ if you liked this please reblog & like! it would be very appreciated <3 - drew

[stvrnioloslvt]

bestfriends? - matt sturniolo

genre: fluff / t.w.: none / check masterlist to keep reading ficmas '24 fics / pt.2 here

③

yells echoed through the house as the triplets were playing on stream, loud bangs heard from below you as chris lost a life in the game, hitting the desk in frustration.

you were sprawling on their couch, a blanket wrapped around you while you watched a film on the tv. your ears perked up as nick's yelling seemed to break the barrier of sound, making you chuckle.

despite not wanting to interrupt them, you couldn't help but be curious to witness the scene yourself in first person, checking out what all the commotion was about. you knew they wouldn't have any problem with you joining them, and the viewers kinda knew you already as matt's bestfriend, but they weren't always welcoming and you feared their reaction.

you sighed, trying to keep your eyes and ears trained on the tv, but you couldn't help yourself from getting distracted every few minutes. in the end, you decided that you had enough — no one should command your life, not even your fear. and that's how you found yourself looking for your phone, unlocking it and going immediately to matt's number.

❛❛dumbass💙❞

can i come in? wanna see what you up to

yeah sure thing

you tossed the blanket aside, stretching your numb limbs before checking your reflection in the mirror. you were already all dolled up, waiting for your friend to text you the meeting spot for your hangout. the only problem was that you were ready a good half an hour ago, and your friend had just woken up from their daily nap, which led you to have to find a way to kill time.

just then, another ping echoed in the room. you snatched your phone from the couch, seeing a notification from matt.

❛❛dumbass💙❞ ②

bring me a Dr.pepper

pretty pleaseee :)

you shook your head, opening the fridge and retrieving the drink requested by the boy. you also poured him a glass of water, hoping that it may wash out all the crazy chemicals and sugar he ingested through those shit-tasting drinks.

you headed towards his room, pushing the door open with your hip, placing the liquids on his desk, careful not to spill any drop.

"chat, say hi to y/n," he exclaimed, patting you behind the knee to signal you to bend slightly so that you were completely in frame. you did as requested, waving and smiling happily to the camera while your bestfriend opened his can with his teeth, winching in pain when the lid scraped his lip.

"are you serious?" you asked rhetorically, sitting down on the edge of his bed. you reached for his chair, pulling him back so that he would be closer to you. you spun him around, inspecting the little bloody scratch on his lower lip, finally commenting with a sarcastic "oh no yeah, this is definitely a red code." and then, turning towards the screen you called his brother: "yo chris, get in the car your brother needs your F1 pilot skills."

just then you noticed the viewers going crazy, swarming the chat with comments about this little interaction that was so normal to you and the guys, but so new for them. a comment in particular caught your eye, making you blush:

@chrisleftball: am i the only one sensing some tension? matt's looking at her funny

you turned around rather flustered, straightening your back, trying to act like nothing had happened. matt's hands reached towards you, pulling you up to your feet so that you could stand beside him while he played. your hand naturally went for his nape, your fingers gently scratching him just as he liked.

you were aware that you two's interactions weren't always what bestfriends would do, a lot of times being teased by chris and nick about acting all lovely like couples do and "needing to get a room".

you couldn't lie, more times than not their teasing only fed your delusions, but you knew that it wasn't safe for you to step up — a small risk could cost a big loss, and you weren't ready for that yet.

you jumped startled as a notification from your phone brought you back to earth, your friend finally telling you were to go after almost an hour of waiting.

"i have to go, i'm meeting up with a friend," you told him, caressing discreetly his hair to say bye to him. "bye chat! i have to go now i'm sorry... have fun! oh and matt, drink some fucking water please — i love you!" and just like that you were out of his room, sprinting towards the front door.

if only you had stayed a couple more seconds you would have noticed your bestfriend's cheeks color of a rosy tint, his hand flying to his mouth to cover a smile that he was trying so hard to bite back, failing.

somewhere, imprinted forever on the internet, a lonely comment was drowned out by the others:

@user56439721: bestfriends?

© stvrnioloslvt

❃ a.n: merry christmas everybody, I wish you happy holidays and a shit ton of happiness🎄✨️

love, bree ☾

taglist: @shadowthesim @sturnioloszn 🤍

[gaylordscooter]

Cut Off

[warning for binge drinking and references to self harm]

He didn't know what to think when he saw the scars on his arms. He knew they were there but he never brought it up. He wasn't good at handling situations like that. He wasn't good at comforting others, he never has been. Not even when he was Sans.

And then Blue pointed out some of them seemed to be recent given that they weren't as healed as the others.

Instantly, he knew what caused those scars.

That argument they had. After he stabbed through his soul.

He avoided Killer as much as he could for about a whole week afterwards until they made up.

IT’S YOUR FAULT. YOU MIGHT AS WELL HAVE CARVED THOSE YOURSELF.

Horror seemed to come to the same conclusion. He stared at Dusk knowingly. He sighed and carefully put a shirt on Killer along with his usual jacket.

They weren't going to bother with changing his pants, comfort be damned. They've already intruded enough on his personal space.

Afterwards, Blue asked Horror to have a private talk with him in his room and that he’ll have one with Dusk after.

It was puzzling, but Horror went with him anyway, leaving Dusk alone with Killer.

It left him some time to ruminate, specifically about his relationship with him.

He stayed crouched down by the couch Killer was sleeping on.

They never labeled what it was—Killer seemingly didn't think of their relationship as anything special, which is what spurred that argument in the first place. Considering Killer's apology and the new scars on his arms, that couldn't be further from the truth.

It's true that initially it was casual. The kissing, the drugs, all of it was just to get away from everything.

Their horrible living circumstances, Nightmare, their guilt—those nightly meetings warded them off even if it was for just a little bit.

At first it didn't matter who the other person in the room was. It didn't matter who they were smoking with. They weren't…Killer wasn't thinking of him when they kissed. Initially.

And then it stemmed into something more, after the night they agreed to quit it with the drugs. Now they did matter to each other. The whole reason they hung out at night had changed. They liked each other's company. They liked each other.

Yet being trapped under Nightmare's grip evaporated any hope for a proper relationship. Killer always avoided talking about their relationship too—but Dusk didn't see that as the main problem.

But now they're somewhere new. Somewhere safe, hopefully.

SOMEWHERE YOU DON’T DESERVE TO BE.

They could have a proper relationship now, he supposed, but diving into one immediately—living with each other—was starting to seem like a bad idea.

He cares about Killer a lot more than he ever expected to, so he wanted to do this right.

But what would that even entail? Was that even possible for them?

He studied Killer’s sleeping face. He didn't exactly look peaceful. He cupped his face with a hand. He felt him lean into the touch.

At least in their current states, he doubted it.

IT’LL NEVER HAPPEN. DO YOU THINK EITHER OF YOU CAN GET BETTER? AFTER EVERYTHING YOU’VE DONE?

Horror walked into the room a few minutes later. “you're up,” he said.

Dusk looked at Killer, but he was still asleep.

“no, i meant it's your turn to talk to him.”

Dusk rolled his eyelights and stood up. He walked into the hall even as Horror was trying to tell him where Blue’s room was located. He didn't need directions, it was pretty obvious with the light to his room being the only one that was on in the hallway.

Besides, he also had a concerningly easy time locating monsters in general, but that wasn't relevant in this specific instance.

He opened the door, which startled the skeleton inside.

His sockets widened. The room looked so similar to Papyrus’s, but it was off. While the layout was the exact same, the color of the carpet was different, the figures on his table weren't the same, and his bed looked like a rocket-ship instead of a car.

SEEMS FAMILIAR.

“Oh my god, I didn't realize my room would throw you off. Sorry,” Blue fretted. He was currently sitting on his bed with a clipboard and pen in hand. Seeing him in the room instead of Papyrus grounded him a bit.

Dusk waved his hand dismissively. It was fine.

“Please, take a seat.” He gestured to the stool in front of his bed. It was kinda funny how professional he was trying to be despite the setting.

He sat down.

“So…I want to preface this by assuring that you and the others are not getting kicked out of the hub. I just wanted to talk to each of you one on one to properly sort things out. The hotel room you and Killer are staying at is actually a temporary place to stay before we build a permanent home. My question to you is: do you want to continue to live with Killer?”

Blue managed to ask the one question Dusk wasn't sure how to answer. He ended up staring at him blankly.

“This choice isn't permanent of course, you could always change your mind.”

It was mostly Killer’s choice to live in the same hotel room. He went along with it without complaint. They were used to living in the same building after all. It was comfortable, but it might've been too comfortable.

If they continued to live with each other, would they even find any motivation to go outside? He doubted Killer would.

YOU WOULDN’T EITHER.

Finally, Dusk shook his head.

Blue quickly jotted something down. “Alright. Um, another thing I wanted to mention. I don't know anything about what you guys went through when you were under Nightmare’s captivity, but I know it must've been rough—and I’m not exactly licensed—but if you need someone to talk to I’m available.”

Dusk looked at him blankly. It clicked for him that the torn-up coat Blue was wearing was a lab coat. This guy was a wannabe doctor.

His silence only made the other skeleton nervous. His eyelights darted from side to side as he waited for a response. When he didn't get one he cleared his metaphorical throat and went on, “What I mean to say is, I’m a therapist—again not officially, but it's not like I can get licensed anymore—but that's besides the point! I got a PhD in psychology, so I have the knowledge…Okay maybe I forgot some of it…Most of it. Sorry, I’m rambling.”

Dusk perked up. If this guy had knowledge in that field he could probably help Killer better than he could ever. That was a pretty big “if” considering his questionable qualification, but Dusk knew with how things were now, he wouldn't be able to provide the support Killer needs. He was hardly keeping it together himself, he couldn't provide comfort for him for much longer without being dragged down too. For lack of a better way of wording it.

Hell, the only reason he's been keeping it together was out of pure stubbornness to make sure Killer was okay. He couldn't keep that up for long, that was for sure.

If they were going to live on their own, Killer would need someone else to support him.

OR ELSE HE’LL KILL HIMSELF.

can you not.

He glared into Blue’s eyelights. Did he really want this guy to be the one to do it?

Who else would it be? Horror?

Hell no. He's also got enough to deal with on his own.

“you can help?” he asked.

Blue’s sockets widened. “I…like to think so?”

That wasn't the most confident answer.

CAN YOU BLAME HIM? IT’S HARD TO HELP SOMEONE WHO DOESN’T DESERVE IT.

shut up.

“watch over killer.”

He watched Blue’s grip on his pen tighten.

“Okay,” he said.

No, he wasn't satisfied with that. He needed to be sure. 

“promise me.”

Blue blinked in surprise, before a look of conviction crossed his face. “I promise. I promise I’ll keep him safe.”

LIAR.

He wrote something down again. “Um, is there anything I could do to help you?”

Dusk was about to shake his head, but then he thought of something.

HEY.

“medication.”

“Oh um, I don't have access to any medication…what specifically did you want them for?”

He pointed at the side of his skull.

Blue cocked his head as he tried to understand. “Headaches?”

…Well that was a problem too but not the one he was thinking about. He shook his head.

“Uhh, hearing? Do you have a hard time hearing or—no wait, that wouldn't make sense, are you having auditory hallucinations?”

Honestly he wasn't sure if the voice in his head was a hallucination or something else. He knew it wasn't actually Papyrus. Though that did take him an embarrassingly long time to figure out.

I AM PAPYRUS. YOU JUST CONVINCED YOURSELF OTHERWISE BECAUSE YOU CAN’T FACE IT THAT I HATE YOU.

Yeah, that wasn't Papyrus, but he still had no clue what this was. He shrugged.

“If they're hallucinations, antipsychotics could probably help. It doesn't always work though…but I probably wouldn't be able to get you any in the first place and I’d have to make sure they're hallucinations first,” he rambled. “What are you hearing, exactly? If you don't mind me asking.”

DON’T TELL HIM. YOU ALREADY SEEM INSANE ENOUGH AS IS.

Dusk’s hands gripped his arms as he curled into himself as much as he could on the stool. He didn't want to speak anymore, but he had to get this out.

DO YOU? IT’LL ONLY PUT YOU IN DANGER.

He pointed at Blue’s clipboard.

“Oh! Do you want to write it down?” Blue put a clean sheet of paper on top before handing it along with his pen over to Dusk.

He hesitated before writing down the first word, but once he started the rest was written quickly. He handed it back for Blue to read before the dumb voice in his head could protest.

The look on Blue’s face shifted as he read. His eyelights flicked up to Dusk as he continued and then he put the clipboard down off to the side. He covered his mouth with a hand as he processed what he read. Blue was looking everywhere but at him. It seemed he couldn't bring himself to face Dusk anymore.

I TOLD YOU THIS WAS A MISTAKE.

“That's…that's horrible, having to deal with that, I’m sorry,” he said.

Dusk didn't expect sympathy. He just told him that he killed his own brother and he was plagued by his voice ever since. If anything—

YOU DESERVE THAT.

Blue’s voice got quieter, “i—i have something i need to confess.” He clasped his hands together tightly. “I already knew that you killed your brother.”

Dusk’s sockets narrowed. He curled his hands into fists but he remained seated.

Blue had the gall to shut his sockets, “I know more than I should about you and the other two. You saw the book with my notes. I wasn't sure if any of you actually read through it, but there's an entry on other versions of you guys. They're not exactly the same as you, so I don't know exact details but I know you and Killer have…murdered a lot of monsters.” Once he finished talking, he finally opened his sockets. He hesitantly looked at Dusk.

HE KNOWS ABOUT ALL OF YOUR SINS.

That only made his actions more confusing.

“why are you trying to help us, then?”

It seemed Blue wasn't expecting to be asked this question because all of his anxiety washed away and was replaced with exasperation. “I told you guys already that I want to. I get that it's hard to trust me when you hardly know me but can't you suspend your doubts at least a little bit? Sure, you've hurt a lot of monsters, but that's no excuse for you to give up on ever being good again. Everyone can—”

“don't finish that sentence,” Dusk said.

Blue’s breath hitched as he was interrupted. “right, sorry.”

Everyone can be a great person if they try. That's what he was going to say.

Of course the person trying to help them is so similar to Papyrus. It was a cruel joke, really.

Well, this wasn't exactly a joke. It wasn't funny in the slightest.

Blue cleared his throat, “After I finish talking to Killer, I’ll take you all to your new homes in the Hub. If you don't have any questions that will be all. I'd appreciate it if you told Killer to come over here.”

Even if he did have questions he was frankly too preoccupied with the upcoming conversation he was going to have with Killer. So he simply gave him a nod and got up to walk out.

Once he got to the living room he saw that Killer was awake. He’ll never get over how Killer lights up whenever he sees him. It was—he wasn't used to it.

His brief exchange with him was awkward. He sighed once Killer went over to Blue's room. He didn't mention anything about living apart yet. He probably should've done so before sending him over, but he wanted to put it off for as long as he could.

Which isn't for long at all.

He sat on the couch next to Horror, dreadfully awaiting when he’d return and he'd have to explain everything.

At first he thought Horror was going to be mercifully silent, but after a minute of silence he spoke up.

“so, are you and killer still gonna share a room?”

Dusk threw his head back against the couch with a groan.

“i’m taking that as a no. good for you.”

Dusk glared at him.

Horror shrugged. “what? i’m being honest. it is good for you, and probably killer. you two are…” he trailed off trying to find the right word, “hazardous, together.”

“you think so?” Dusk signed frantically.

Horror raised a brow bone. “is that sarcasm?”

Dusk fell back against the couch again, deflated. Hazardous? That was one way to describe their relationship. How many injuries have they caused each other?

It was to let off steam, was the excuse they had, but considering the scars was it just another way Killer would hurt himself?

The thought made him sick.

HE’S USING YOU.

What did that even mean at this point?

He couldn't answer.

“so me and papyrus are gonna move into our own house, separate from the rest of the guys. it's gonna be weird getting used to living with him again.”

Showoff.

THAT’S NOT SHOWING OFF. YOU KILLED ME! THAT WAS EASILY PREVENTABLE!

It wasn't that simple but he has a point. He gave Horror a thumbs up. Good for him.

“i’m mostly saying that just in case you come over to visit me. i know it's hard for you to be near him, so.”

Dusk let out a half-laugh half-hum. How weirdly considerate of him, and about Papyrus nonetheless.

Back when Horror learned he and Killer murdered their brothers, he was furious towards them. The only reason he interacted with them was out of self preservation, and even then it was rare.

Maybe being tormented by the same being was the easiest way to bring anyone together.

Or maybe he just realized he wasn't really qualified to judge them after all he's done.

If they wore each other’s shoes they’d find they’d do the exact same thing. It’s funny how being the same person works.

Either way, it's surreal that they're friends now. Though, he kinda thought he’d stop being so friendly once they got away from Nightmare.

“anyway, how are you gonna tell him?” he asked.

He didn't have the answer to that, so he shrugged.

Horror snerked, “dude, seriously?”

“what would you say?” he signed, moving his hands in a stilted manner.

“you really gotta brush up on sign language, i can barely understand you.”

Dusk clenched his hands shut in silent annoyance. He wasn't wrong. His sign language was horrible. He was only going off of what he remembered from past resets, and even then he only took the time to learn it in timelines where they reached the surface. Which were very very distant memories.

“just be upfront. it's not like you two have to live with each other. ‘sides, he’ll be fine on his own.”

Dusk leaned his head forward and gave him a skeptical look.

“probably…” he added without much certainty.

He dreaded the conversation to come. That dread didn't dwindle at all when Killer entered the room and swore at him.

Horror fled the room immediately. Which was fair, but he would've appreciated some support.

He didn't even say anything yet and Killer was already on the verge of crying. His voice cracked as he yelled, usually Dusk found his voice cracks amusing, but now it made his soul twist.

He brought up a point Horror told him. Only for him to panic even more.

LOOK AT HOW MUCH YOU’RE HURTING HIM. IS THIS YOUR REVENGE ON HIM AFTER HE CALLED YOUR RELATIONSHIP A JOKE? WAS HIM CUTTING HIMSELF OVER YOU NOT GOOD ENOUGH?

He didn't want to hurt him. This wasn't revenge. He didn't want to hurt him!

HE KNOWS YOU HATE HIM.

He cared about him!

He loved him!

The words came out of his mouth before he realized it wasn't the best time to say them. It was a horrible time to confess, Killer was already overwhelmed.

That was the first time he said “i love you” to him.

He needed him to know how he felt. He needed him to be sure that they were splitting out of necessity and that he didn't hate him.

“we need to spend some time apart,” he said.

Killer started hyperventilating. God, he was shaking. It looked like he was going to fall over at any moment.

THIS IS WHAT YOU DO TO HIM. YOU’VE MANIPULATED HIM. NOW HE CAN’T STAND BEING WITHOUT YOU.

YOU’RE AWFUL.

YOU GAVE HIM THOSE SCARS.

Dusk hugged him, hoping it would calm him down.

Killer immediately clung onto him in return. His hand tightly gripped his jacket, desperate to keep him here.

He tried explaining why they had to be apart.

“dust, please, i’ve already been alone for too long!”

Dusk moved his hands to his shoulders and pushed him away so that he could look at his soul.

It looked the same as it did that night when they decided to quit doing drugs; it was jagged and changing frantically.

He didn't know what it meant exactly, but it didn't mean anything good.

Just like his soul, his face was a mess. He was crying. He thought he was mad at him for calling him “Dust”. He didn't even notice he did.

It hurt to see him like this, but that probably didn't compare to what Killer was going through.

It’d be worse if they stayed together. They wouldn't be able to leave their room. Why would they, when they had each other? No, he didn't want to live like that. It was going to be hard adjusting to a new life and meeting new people but they needed to.

YOU DON’T DESERVE TO.

Things will be better for both of them.

They just had to rip off the bandage first.

That whole conversation was worse than anything Nightmare’s put them through.

No, being overtaken by that parasite was worse, actually.

Either way, it ended up being motivation to go outside once they got back to the Hub. Only for him to b-line towards Grillby’s once he found it.

Once he walked into the place deja vu rushed through him. It looked the exact same as his Grillby’s, the only thing that reminded him that he wasn't in his universe were the patrons.

It was a lot more packed and it wasn't just the usual Snowdin residents that were here. Luckily, because it was so packed, no one paid him any mind when he walked in.

If this was his universe, everyone would greet him.

As he walked towards the bar he noticed that the establishment wasn't the exact same—because it seemed to be double the normal size.

That was the only noticeable difference so far, though.

Grillby himself looked the same, he was also cleaning a glass like he usually did whenever he had some downtime.

Feeling bold, he took a seat at the bar, not many people were sitting around here anyway.

Grillby looked at him, waiting for an order.

And then he realized he didn't have any gold on him. Maybe this Grillby would also put up with a stupidly long tab.

It was weird seeing him again. Fortunately, he's gotten used to seeing different versions of monsters he's killed. Even though they looked the same there was something off. It was like he could tell they were from different universes.

However, this Grillby didn't feel off to him at all.

He didn't need anything fancy to drink so he just ordered a glass of beer.

Grillby gave it to him without a word, which was typical of him.

He tried drinking it slowly at first, trying to seem casual and then he threw that out the window once he realized he didn't really care right now. He wanted to get wasted.

When Blue took them back here, both he and Horror accompanied Killer to his room. Horror practically dragged the skeleton over to his room with how unresponsive he got after their conversation ended.

Then when they said their goodbyes, Killer wordlessly clung onto his sleeve until Dusk pulled away.

Grillby refilled his beer, thank god.

He downed it immediately.

This is only temporary.

Another glass, actually, Grillby brought him two more. He knew he could always rely on him.

They’re not even that far apart from each other. He knows where he lives. He can visit at any time.

Another glass down. The fake Papyrus in his head has gone quiet already.

As his hand grasped the other glass of beer, someone sat down next to him.

“S-SANS?”

Dusk nearly spat out his drink, instead he choked it down, causing him to go into a coughing fit.

“SORRY FOR STARTLING YOU! I THOUGHT YOU WERE SOMEONE ELSE!”

He looked over at the person next to him. Oh god yeah, that was a Papyrus.

Why did this one seem so familiar?

He wasn't even wearing his battle body. He was wearing casual everyday clothes.

He looked a lot more rugged than usual with heavy dark circles under his sockets.

This one had LV.

“it's fine.” Is what he wanted to say. Instead his tipsy mind only managed to say “you real?”

He looked so nervous. “I DON’T SEE WHY I WOULDN’T BE?” He squinted at the glasses on the counter. “HOW MUCH HAVE YOU DRANK ALREADY?”

Dusk looked over to count, but he was distracted by the fact he was currently holding a whole bottle of beer in his hand, apparently. He turned his attention to Grillby, confused.

“...” Grillby looked as blank as ever.

“THAT ISN’T AN EXCUSE TO GIVE HIM SO MUCH ALCOHOL!” Papyrus responded. He pinched the bridge of his nose bone and shook his head in disapproval.

What the hell was happening?

Maybe drinking like crazy wasn't a good idea in a completely new world. Ehhh he didn't really care. Oof, his eye sockets were getting heavy.

A nap sounded real good right now, actually. Consequences be damned, he propped his head against the counter and dozed off.

“HE DIDN’T EVEN ORDER FOOD, DID HE?” Papyrus remarked. He knew this Sans wasn't literally the one from his universe, but the second he saw him he knew he was from a similar one.

Obviously he was from a universe where he didn't die by his hand.

It was shameful, knowing that Papyrus never stooped low enough to harm let alone kill his own brother. He was a horrible brother.

As much as Grillby would insist he did what he had to in order to protect the other residents of Snowdin, he still regretted it deeply.

Seeing a version of his brother that probably succeeded in his task didn't change his mind on that at all.

Speaking of Grillby, “I KNOW YOU RECOGNIZED HIM BUT YOU CAN’T JUST GIVE HIM ALL THIS,” he gestured wildly at the group of empty glasses by the sleeping skeleton, “LIKE YOU’RE TRYING TO SEDATE HIM! YOU KNOW HE ISN’T THE SAME ONE.”

Grillby adjusted his glasses even though they were already straight and grabbed one of the cups to start cleaning it.

“I KNOW IT’S WEIRD, THAT DOESN’T CHANGE MY POINT.”

“...”

“I CAN’T JUST WAKE HIM UP THAT’S RUDE.”

“....”

“I’M GOING TO STAY HERE UNTIL HE WAKES UP SO I KNOW HE’S FINE, OBVIOUSLY.”

Grillby paused his glass-cleaning to procure a shot of warm milk for Papyrus.

“I AM NOT PAYING FOR THAT,” he said, before snatching it up and downing it as if it were whiskey.

Grillby gave him a quizzical look.

Papyrus lowered the volume of his voice, which wasn't by much, “Of Course I’m Not Perturbed By Seeing Such A Close Replica Of My Brother That I Brutally Put An End To.”

Grillby got back to cleaning the pile of glasses.

“IT IS JUST A YOU PROBLEM ACTUALLY…SORRY, THAT WAS RUDE. STILL YOUR PROBLEM, THOUGH. THIS SKELETON NEXT TO ME IS A COMPLETE STRANGER, WE’VE NEVER MET HIM,” he said with total confidence that he didn't have.

At the Hub, it was expected to run into other versions of people you knew, but it was basic etiquette to treat them as strangers. You do not assume anything of them because you've never met this version before. Unfortunately, that was harder to uphold when they were from such alike universes.

It wasn't unusual for loved ones from different universes to settle for you if you were similar enough.

Fortunately for Grillby and Papyrus, they didn't really have to deal with that, being the only people from a “Dust” universe to live in the Hub.

But now this Sans is here.

When Dusk finally woke up, the bar was near closing time.

And the Papyrus was still here—oh never mind he bolted out the door the moment he moved.

He sluggishly moved his head towards Grillby, who was probably waiting for him to leave too so he could close.

“sorry,” he slurred. He put a hand on the counter to support himself as got off the stool. He reached into his pockets for gold that wasn't there. Oh yeah.

“my bad, i forgot i didn’t have any g.”

Grillby waved his hand dismissively, or he was shooing him. “...........It's fine.”

Dusk blinked in surprise. “thanks, i’ll uh, bye.” He gave a quick wave before walking quickly out of there, or at least he tried to. He ended up bumping into multiple tables and chairs until he tripped and fell down before he could even make it to the door. He doesn't know how long he napped but clearly he was still drunk.

He stayed on the ground for a moment, internally hyping himself up to stand.

He heard Grillby walk over. Ah, great.

At the very least he managed to flip himself on his back to look up at the fire monster.

For a moment, it felt like he was back in his universe and this Grillby was the one he knew, but he knew he couldn't be. He killed him along with the others.

Although Grillby had an unreadable face—because he didn't have one—Dusk was able to get a good idea about what he was feeling by looking at the pattern of his flames.

Either being drunk skewed his perception or he was reading it wrong, because from what he was seeing, Grillby was concerned for him.

He knew this look well, especially after he started remembering past timelines all of a sudden. Whenever he drank to stop thinking, Grillby would look at him exactly like this and then he'd offer to help him get home. Sometimes he'd try asking what was up. Which was completely in vain.

Usually this was the part he'd kill him.

The two of them stared at each other in silence. They were off script. They didn't know who was going to make the next move.

Until Grillby decided to take the lead. He knelt down by Dusk. His hands reached out to him slowly, ready to draw back if Dusk said anything.

Dusk’s mind unhelpfully insisted Grillby was about to strangle him or something. He stayed still regardless.

Grillby paused and his hands retreated. “...Why are you here?” He stood up.

“had a bad breakup,” he said. It wasn't really a breakup since they were never formally together, but they did separate so that word probably applied to the situation.

Grillby’s head briefly flared up. That could mean a multitude of things so he didn't want to bother assuming what it meant.

“GOOD LORD, HE HASN’T LEFT YET?” Papyrus's voice startled the two as he opened the door. Apparently he hadn't left the vicinity yet. “HONESTLY, OF ALL MONSTERS TO WALTZ IN HERE AND GET BLACKOUT DRUNK…DO YOU EVEN HAVE ANYONE THAT COULD WALK YOU HOME?” He remained outside, only peeking his head in through the door to be heard.

Well Horror probably could, but he had no way of contacting him. He did get that phone. He wasn't sure if he still had it on him and even then he didn't have the number or a phone.

That's a no.

Dusk shook his head even though it was hardly visible to the Papyrus.

Papyrus sighed dramatically. “FINE. AS A RESPONSIBLE CITIZEN I SHALL ACCOMPANY YOU TO YOUR ABODE TO ENSURE YOUR SAFETY.”

“i’ll take my chances sleeping on the sidewalk.”

“YOU CAN’T EVEN GET TO THE SIDEWALK ON YOUR OWN.”

“i guess my chances aren't looking too good. my doom is cemented. maybe even set in stone. just leave me here.”

Papyrus groaned at the puns. “I AM GOING TO GO OVER THERE AND PICK YOU UP AND THEN YOU ARE GOING TO DIRECT ME TO YOUR HOUSE, UNDERSTAND?”

“mmmm no.”

Then he was picked up by warm hands. Oh, Grillby picked him up. He walked him over to the door and was handed over to Papyrus.

The second the two were outside, Grillby hastily closed the door.

“the fuck happened to snowdin?” he asked.

Papyrus huffed, “WE AREN’T IN SNOWDIN.”

He took note of the sky. It was sundown. “we made it to the surface?”

“NO.”

“oh.”

“DO YOU EVEN KNOW WHERE YOUR HOUSE IS?”

“shouldn't you know?”

“I’M NOT YOUR BROTHER. YOUR BROTHER IS DEAD. YOU KILLED HIM,” Papyrus said coldly.

Man, his mind was scrambled. For a second he thought there’s been a reset. What timeline was this? No he was kidnapped by Nightmare—and then they were kicked out…Oh yeah. This is the “Hub” or whatever.

He drank way too much.

“i didn't want to…”

“I DIDN’T EITHER! BUT THAT DOESN’T CHANGE IT, NOW DOES IT?!”

He hasn't heard Papyrus get this mad in a while. Wait. “what do you mean you ‘didn't either’?”

Papyrus came to a halt. “IN MY UNIVERSE, I KILLED YOU.”

He may have been drunk out of his mind, but even he knew that didn't sound right. “you wouldn't.”

“WELL, I DID.”

“you can't.”

“CLEARLY I CAN.”

He couldn't even kill the human. How's he supposed to believe he would ever kill him?

“you can't kill the human but you killed me, is that what i’m hearing?”

Papyrus grit his teeth. Despite the conversation, he was still carrying him. “KILLING THEM WASN’T GOING TO STOP THEM. KILLING YOU DID. AND IT WAS AN ACCIDENT.”

“you never have accidents with your magic.”

“YOU DON’T KNOW ME. YOU AREN’T MY BROTHER! YOU CAN’T JUDGE ME ANYWAY.”

“...you can put me down now.”

“YOU’LL FALL ON YOUR FACE. NO.”

Alas, poor Papyrus. It wouldn't matter how much he reminded himself that he wasn't the same Sans. They were so similar to each other's brother.

And he didn't even remember where his new house was. If this turned out to be a torture method that Nightmare came up with, he wouldn't be surprised.

“so what, you're gonna aimlessly carry me around until you happen to find my house?”

“I GUESS SO!”

Of course.

He resumed walking, Dusk decided to accept it. It was an excuse to be lazy. Even though he hasn’t been “lazy” in years.

Then again, he hasn’t been carried by Papyrus like this in years.

[ashyjingles]

jason grace headcanons

as requested by @sacrifical-lamb-core

ive been known to enjoy some more feral leaning jason grace but this is more of an authoritative take on his personality if you will. feel free to add to or dispute anything i have here!! this is all kind of a jumbled mess of first-come-first-serve deal in my head and i have yet to go through and weed any out

he has problems with authority. not outwardly; in fact, to everyone else, he’s the picture perfect kid who follows all of the rules. but that’s because he’s terrified of what would happen if he stepped out of line. he grew up with lupa, who was incredibly harsh to ensure survival in her pups. and then when he got to the legion, all of the officers were required to uphold the law. jason saw what happened to people who stepped the line, and the results were never pretty. (in son of neptune they mentione tying someone in a bag with weasels and throwing them in the little tiber for fuck’s sake) he grew scared to even TOE the line. 

because of the previous hc, he’s scared of kids. he knows how rambunctious they get, and he knows that if it came down to it, he would have to punish them and follow through on it by necessity. its what all his predecessors did after all. but he doesn't want to harm them. hes always had that soft spot for the new and/or younger kids. so he’s not scared of kids themselves, he’s scared of being the one to give them consequences to their potential actions. he leaves that to someone else with more guts

the previous two leave him with a lot of cognitive dissonance that he never really gets over. he’s an incredibly empathetic person and no matter how much he tries he can never really stop that feeling of regret when he has to punish someone who clearly regrets their actions. but give them an inch and they'll take a mile. he has major problems with dissociation where he removes his sense of self from the scenario and lets his logical processing take over without any emotion. reyna has had to pull him back from it a few too many times.

between the dissociation, magical amnesia, adhd, and constant brain damage, that boy has one of the worst memories youve ever seen

he really likes steak. specifically rare steak. (wolf!jason truther…)

he can see electrical currents! and can. see? wind currents. its more of a knowing the wind currents are there without thinking about them rather than a visual thing though. its how despite his poor eyesight he was an excellent fighter before he got the glasses

jason has really sharp canines! so does thalia! they get it from their mom, who filed her own canines down for a softer appearance and would have done the same to her kids once they were old enough for that type of dental work. 

jason is left handed, but because of military-style training early on it was forcibly trained out of him either because nobody realized he was left-handed or because they looked down on left-handedness for the sake of unanimity in the formations on the field. he just thinks hes naturally ambidextrous

gay. mlm. boy kisser for certain that man does NOT like girls. he treated reyna and piper the exact same despite one of them being his girlfriend (and treated reyna in a way where she thought he might have liked her back) because he treats them both in accordance to his emotions toward them: ie, he likes both platonically, which is why theres no difference. he just cant tell.

he fucking LOVES mint. says brushing his teeth and chugging a cold glass of water makes his mouth feel like being up in the air and 15 thousand feet with the wind in face.

he’s half asian! beryl grace is asian (i usually go with either thai or vietnamese) and usually i just went with wasian but then the show came out and now i go with blasian. or maybe beryl grace is wasian? whatever the case, i always pictured him and thalia as having some sort of asian descent.

hes really good at archery. dont tell anyone its just him controlling the winds though

hes such a dog person oh my god

his eyes light up like circuits/lightning when he uses his powers. specifically his lightning powers. 

jason doesnt have dyslexia but he does have dyscalculia. like, really bad dyscalculia. but he still greatly prefers reading in latin!

jason hated reading for the longest time because they didnt have any books purely for enjoyment on base. in new rome itself they had bookstores with plenty of books. (they were mostly classics because they didnt have too much contact with the rest of the world, but they were more than just military reports or old historic scrolls you needed express permission to even breath on) but when he discovers newer books he finds himself really liking them! though his favourite genre is definitely classics, and when someone breaks the news to him that he couldve had these books the entire time hes devastated

when he was younger he was better at latin than english because most kids who arrive at camp jupiter know english already and theyre well equipped at teaching people latin, but not english. they had to send him to a school off base/in new rome for younger kids to learn some more rudimentary skills

it was under juno’s orders that he lived on base. she wanted him to be as prepared as possible for his future, which meant starting his training bright and early. otherwise he probably would have spent some time in camp jupiter as a normal kid until he could at least, oh i dunno, read and write. tie his shoes. eat with cutlery. take a bath by himself.

if jason had been there long enough without the swap ever happening, when he stepped down from praetor (not for another longggg few years) he would have done law in new rome. 

if post swap jason grace had the opportunity to do law in new rome, he would have pushed for rules regarding kids safety. of course, if another jason case were to happen nobody would have been able to deny a god(dess) but jason was never a normal case, was he?

can you tell i like lawyer!jason

less of a headcanon more of commentary on his character but as strong of a character as he was, camp half blood taught him how to have a back bone. in rome he was incredibly disciplined and had no trouble ordering other people around, but it was always in accordance with new rome’s laws. camp half blood taught him how to abide by his own moral principles rather than ones that someone else gave to him. (after all, new rome was about unity while chb was about individuality.) 

he honestly really likes his work as pontifex maximus. it fulfills his inner desire to be doing the ‘right’ thing by rome’s standards (especially because the title is highly revered) while giving him the room to express his creative desires, which is something that he had never been able to do. its also not at the cost of someone else, which usually ended up happening when he was upholding the law as praetor

this one works in contrast or in tandem with my previous bullet on his sexuality (specifically the comment on how he treated piper and reyna): he knew that reyna had a crush on him. he didnt know why he couldnt feel the same. queer culture wasnt really a thing in the modern world for the time it took place, and i dont imagine new rome was any more progressive. he didnt understand lots of things about his sexuality at the time. he didnt know that not liking girls might have been an option, and that he didnt have to like reyna back. so he tried his best to convince himself into having feelings for her, which led to reyna thinking they were reciprocated. once he met piper, that confusion happened all over again and even without his memories he found himself repeating the process

his favourite is blue like the sky, and ironically his and thalia’s eyes

thalias eyes are slightly darker than jason’s. more grey as well. jason’s are the brightest fucking blue youve ever seen. think the clearest, sunniest day youve ever seen, and it still doesnt hold a candle to his eyes. thalias are more like the sky before a storm.

jason can feel (along with see as given by previous bullet) electrical currents. he could feel someone switching a light switch from half a mile away if he thought about it

hes constantly brimming with static electricity and WILL shock everything he touches. a handshake? you get shocked. he tries to open a car door? literal sparks. as a kid he had to wear electricity resistant gloves because he didnt have a hold on it and it became dangerous because when his emotions are heightened, so are his powers. if he gets angry or excited or sad the air around him smells like ozone, and sometimes you can even see the sparks

cows really like him. straight up adore him. theyre his favourite animal!

he smells like ink, ozone, and something metallic. some people say blood, but hazel says its something like copper or nickel

[gnxosblog]

The new boy

Pt 2

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 ✵ 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞, 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝, 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐢𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠. 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐬 𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐦𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧. 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐧?

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬✧ 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐝𝐨𝐧𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞!

Matt x reader

Not proofread*

~

Matt’s pov

It was the first day of senior year. Me and my brothers had just moved here. I was kinda nervous to go to a new school, but I had my brothers and I didn’t really have a hard time making friends. I got out of bed and walked over to my closet. I put on some blue jeans and a black t shirt. I went to the bathroom and washed my face and brushed my teeth. I did my hair and put in my earrings. I still had my necklace on, I slept with it most of the time. It has an silver horse charm, I thought it looked cool.

I walked downstairs as I already saw my brothers sitting in the kitchen. “Goodmorning.” I said. “Yo goodmorning.” Chris said. “Goodmorning.” Nick said. I sat down and put cereal in my bowl and added milk. “Are you guys ready for your first day as seniors?” My mom asked. “I Guess.” I said. Nick and Chris agreed. “We have to leave earlier to go by the office first remember?” Nick said. “Oh shit yeah we need to leave.” I say. We grab our bags and walk to the car.

The whole car ride we just chat, laughed and listened to Chris’s music. We arrived at school and walked over to the office. “Hi, the Sturniolo’s?” Mrs Wall asked. We nodded. “Yes that’s us.” Chris said. “Well, welcome to our school, did you see your schedule?” She asked. “Yes we did.” Nick said. “Okay good, here’s Nathan he will give you a little tour before classes start.” Mrs Wall says. A boy walks in the office. “Hi I’m Nate, let’s go.” We say hello and follow him around the school.

As we finished the tour he drops us off at the classroom we had our first period in. “So you guys just wait here and the teacher will call you in.” Nate says. We nod. “Hey thanks for the tour.” I say. “No problem it’s not like I had a choice.” Nate says laughing. We also laugh. “Fair.” Chris says. Nate walks in the classroom and we wait outside. Everyone was already inside except for some people who were late. I don’t get it how people get late on the first day.

After waiting a few minutes the teacher calls us in. We walk in and the teachers starts to yap some things. I look around and notice a girl staring at me, she looked very pretty. She quickly looked away as she noticed that I saw her staring. I caught a quick glimpse of her earrings before she pulled her hair from behind her ears. We were wearing the same ones. Before I knew it I was now the one staring. I loved her outfit. She was wearing grey cargo pants and a white top. I noticed a small shark necklace which was very cute. “Boys please introduce yourselves.” The teacher said. I quickly looked away to my right and saw Chris staring at me with a small smirk. I rolled my eyes and we all introduced ourselves. We walked over to the empty seats and sat down. I turned my head to Chris. “Yo what was that smirk for.” I ask. “Bro I saw you staring at that girl.” Chris says. “I wasn’t shut up.” I scoffed. Chris rolled his eyes and returned his attention for class. While I was talking to Chris I noticed the girl staring at me but I didn’t look at her.

-

At lunch we sat with Nate and a few of his friends. “I can’t believe we already got homework at the first day.” Chris says. “Yeah me neither it’s fucking annoying.” Nate says. I like Nate he has a good vibe and I feel like he’s a good friend. “Btw there’s a party at mines this Saturday, I invited all seniors so you guys can come.” Jake says. Jake is a friend of Nate’s, he’s cool. “Yeah I guess a party’s nice to get to know more people.” Nick says. “Yeah we’ll come.” Chris says. “Nice.” Jake says.

-

After school I drive me and my brothers home. I walk inside the house and greet our mom. “I’m gonna make some homework now.” I say. I walk upstairs into my room and instead of opening my books I open my phone. I start to scroll on TikTok and laugh at some TikTok’s. After a while I do decide to make my homework. I put my phone down on my desk and I open my books. After I’m done with my homework I grab my phone again. I see a instagram notification:’y/n🦈 liked your post.’ I notice the shark emoji and think of the girl in class with the necklace with a shark. I smile to myself and click on the notification but I don’t see it in my instagram app. I refreshed it a few times but nothing came up. Maybe it was just a bug or she unliked it. Maybe she thought I didn’t look good so she unliked it. I shook my head, I shouldn’t think so much. I clicked away the instagram app and opened TikTok again. “Dinners ready.” I hear my mom calling from downstairs. I walk out of my room and down the stairs. “Mmh smells good.” My dad says. A fresh smell of pasta filled my nose. I liked pasta very much.

After dinner I walk up to my room again. I decided to put on a different outfit and watch some YouTube. After a while a nock is being heard on my door. “Matt.” Chris says. “What?” I ask. “Me and Nick are going for a walks around the neighborhood, wanna come?” Chris asks. “Yes of course.” I say. I love walks at night, they calm me down and everything is much peacefuller.

After we walked for a while, I hear soft music playing in the distance. “Yo that’s some good music.” Chris says. I agree. We walk to where the sound is coming from and I look to the side. I see the girl from class standing in a baby blue bikini with her hair in a bun looking at me again. She looked kinda shocked so I couldn’t help but smirk. She smiled at me while she walked over to a chair. After we walked past Chris looks at me again with a smile. “Yo that’s the girl you were staring at in class.” Chris says. I just rolled my eyes and fastened my walk. “Yo what did I miss?” Nick asks. “Today first period Matt was drooling over some girl.” Chris says. “No I wasn’t she looked at me so I just looked back nothing more.” I say. “Mmh whatever you say.” Chris says. “Interesting.” Nick says.

-

After we came home I went straight to bed. I didn’t feel like hearing about her for the rest of the night. I went to the bathroom and got ready for bed. I laid down in bed but I couldn’t sleep, I couldn’t get the girl out of my mind. The way she looked today in class and in that bikini and the way she smiled at me. I thought about the way her lips would feel on mine, how she would look me deep in the eyes. How she would taste, how she looked without the bikini. No I shook my head, I can’t think about her in that way I don’t even know her, I don’t even know her name. I just decided to close my eyes and think of other things. After an hour I finally fell asleep.

————————————★—————————————

A /n🜸 I hope you guys liked Matt’s pov! Please leave more feedback and maybe some ideas for other parts. Ly x

[angrybathbomb]

Leander x gn! reader

MODERN AU

------------------------------------

SUMMARY: A very handsome man who introduces himself as Leander approaches you asking to do your portraits for free. Will you agree?

About the content: fluff, sfw, modern au, Leander is a youtuber who clicks portraits of people he finds eye catching on the street and is down bad for you on first sight lol

------------------------------------

"Excuse me?" 

A smooth, rich voice, warm and velvety, jolts you from your daydream. 

You lift your gaze, eyes tracing upward until they meet his. 

Standing before you is a tall, handsome man with an effortless charm. His sea-green eyes sparkle with a hint of mischief as he gives you a gentle smile.

Too busy admiring the fine specimen of a man in front of you, you almost fail to notice the camera quietly recording the entire interaction. 

An Influencer? Maybe a Youtuber ?

You raise a questioning eyebrow.

"Well, hi," he begins confidently, his tone smooth and unruffled. "I'm Leander."

"Oh," you reply, your voice flat.

He chuckles, a bit sheepish but undeterred by your curt response. 

"I'm a street photographer," he says, gesturing to the camera slung over his shoulder. "I capture portraits of people."

He pauses, pulling out his phone and holding it out to you. "Here, this is my Instagram."

Your gaze drifts over his feed—photos of people from all walks of life. 

Some faces are unique and exotic, others classic and timeless, each image radiating its own quiet beauty.

"I see," but before you can say more, something catches your eye on his profile. Your gaze freezes on his follower count.

His following was in the lakhs. LAKHS!

"What do you want?" you reply, your voice sharper than you intended.

"Uh, well, you see, you caught my eye, and... you’re quite the sight for sore eyes, so—" he begins, the practised charm evident in every word.

"Get to the point," you cut in, unamused.

Sure, he was easy on the eyes , but your stranger-danger senses were stronger than any pull of "pretty privilege" right now.

"Would you mind if I took a few photos of you?" he asks, a hint of hesitation in his smile as he gestures toward his camera.

Cute.

The gesture, of course—not him.

Well, maybe him, too.

A hint of shyness and the blush spreading on his cheeks looks good on him.

You hum thoughtfully. “Are you going to post them?”

“Yeah?” he replies, picking up on your unease.

"Is that a problem?"

Your eyes answer for you. 

He chuckles, noticing that while your mouth remains silent, your expression says it all.

How adorable…

He clears his throat, pausing as he gathers his thoughts.

Usually, he’d offer a polite "it's alright" or "I understand" with a practised smile before moving on. 

He’s willing to make an exception for you though.

"I won’t post those pictures," he reassures.

How could he not have pictures of you? 

You’d caught his eye from across the street, and before he could consciously decide to approach you, his feet had already carried him over.

Hell, he would keep the pictures for himself.

It was better that way—he tells himself.

Yet, as this thought settles, the sudden wave of possessiveness surprises him. 

Why did he feel this way about a stranger?

"Uhm," you say, nervously chewing on your bottom lip.

"It's okay if you don’t want to. I understand—" he replies, mentally sighing as he struggles to hide his reluctance to walk away from you.

"It’s fine," you say, finally standing up. "But I’m not really photogenic, so this might be a challenge." You let out a wry chuckle.

He grins, and for a moment, you swear he resembles a golden retriever.

He winks at you. 

"Oh, I love a good challenge," he replies smoothly.

Especially if the challenge is someone as pretty as you, he thinks to himself, knowing better than to voice that thought aloud for fear of creeping you out.

"Follow me," he says with an enthusiastic grin. "Let’s find a good spot for some great shots."

You trail behind him, eyes shifting subtly to the camera that’s quietly recording.

"Is that... recording?" you ask, trying to keep your tone casual.

Leander catches on quickly. Though he may look laid-back, he’s far from oblivious.

"Yes, sorry for not mentioning it earlier," he says, as if reading your thoughts. "I post behind-the-scenes videos on Insta and YouTube, along with the final shots."

You hum thoughtfully. "I see."

"Do you want me to stop?" he offers, surprising even himself. 

Normally, he wouldn’t compromise. Those BTS videos were part of his success, boosting his follower count to a whopping 17.5 lakhs. 

Yet here he was, making an exception for you. He wasn’t ready to explore why—not just yet.

"No, it’s fine," you say, with a shy yet friendly smile. "I guess that’s part of the fun in all this," you add, gesturing vaguely between the camera and the two of you.

"Yeah, it is," Leander replies with a grin, pleased to see you comfortable enough to go along with something clearly outside your usual comfort zone.

He pauses by a striking tree draped in red blossoms that stand out against the vast, blue sky. "I just realised—I never got your name.”

You give him your name, your eyes following his, towards the beautiful tree he’s been admiring.

You look back at him, only to catch him already staring at you intently.

His eyes are so deep and mesmerising that you could easily lose yourself in them.

Feeling heat rise to your face, you awkwardly redirect your gaze to the tree, not wanting your feelings to be too obvious.

Sensing his eyes still trained on you, you tease, "Click a picture; it’ll last longer."

The comment catches him off guard, but then he bursts into laughter, clearly enjoying your sass. 

“Oh, I will,” he smirks. “Now, how about you pose for me under that tree?” He gestures toward the shade beneath the tree, where the grass is dotted with red flowers that have scattered down from the canopy above.

"How should I—" you ponder aloud as you approach the tree. "Is this okay?" You lean your back against the trunk, folding your arms in front of you, still feeling jittery and awkward.

Leander smiles, ever patient. "Of course," he replies, angling his camera at you. "Now, look somewhere else, as if you’re lost in thought."

You follow his instructions, grateful for his guidance in this moment.

Click. Click.

He smiles as he looks down at the photos, whistling in appreciation.

Curiosity piqued, you take a few steps closer to see the pictures for yourself.

He hands you the camera, and you gasp in surprise.

Is that really you? Sure, you’ve taken a few decent selfies and your friends have occasionally captured good angles, but these were just two quick shots, and he already has some stunning images. It all seemed so effortless.

"Wow, you’re quite the pro," you chuckle, a smile lighting up your eyes.

There’s a hint of mischief in the crinkle of your smile, which prompts a teasing grin from him as he admires you silently.

“Pro?” he replies with mock disapproval. “You make it easy.”

 You raise your hands, amusement dancing in your eyes. "Empty flattery doesn’t work on me."

Leander raises an eyebrow, a playful smirk on his lips. “Good thing I never flatter empty—just like your beautiful smile.”

You scoff under your breath and blush, turning around and pretending to look anywhere but him.

"I'm not done with you yet," he murmurs.

You freeze as you feel his breath brushing against your neck, goosebumps erupting at the rich, velvety cadence of his voice, which has dropped a few octaves lower.

You summon the courage to turn and face him, but in the blink of an eye, he’s standing at a respectful distance.

"I need a few more photos," he says, turning to walk away and gesturing for you to follow. "This is the entertainment district; it’s hard not to find some  eye-catching spots for a good shoot.”

You fall in line behind him, a few steps back.

A bit breathless from the sudden closeness, you wonder if what just happened was real or just a figment of your imagination.

Still, you pretend to be oblivious, not wanting to succumb to delusion, even though the air between you is thick with tension and unspoken desires.

“You like birds?”

The question catches you completely off guard. "Birds?" you ask, a little lost.

Leander grins, glancing over toward an old lady holding a bunch of brilliantly coloured parrots—vivid blues, greens, reds, and yellows. 

For a moment, you feel like you're back in high school with a hopeless hallway crush, drawn in by every small detail—the subtle tilt of his head, the playful glint in his green eyes, the easy curl of his lips that you can’t help but linger on. Then there’s the scar, a faint line beginning on his cheek, running down his neck, peeking out from the rolled-up sleeves of his shirt and stretching all the way to his forearm.

"Hey, sweetheart?" He snaps his fingers lightly in front of your face, breaking your trance. "Am I losing you already?”

"Oh… uh—" You stammer, muttering a curse under your breath as you quickly glance around, desperately avoiding his gaze. 

"Yeah, sure, I guess," you say with a sheepish smile, pulling out your phone in a hasty attempt to look busy.

Leander’s gaze drops to the screen, his eyebrows lifting in curiosity—until he spots the payment app open. His eyes widen, and he straightens up. "Wait—what exactly do you think you’re doing?”

"Well, someone has to pay the lady," you chuckle, flashing a smirk. "She’s not about to hand them over just because you flashed that pretty face and charming smile."

The bold flirtation slips out before you even realise it, leaving you just as surprised as Leander, whose eyebrows raise slightly, a grin spreading across his face.

"Don’t worry your head about something so silly," he says with a wink.

You open your mouth to argue, but Leander leans in close, his voice dropping to a low murmur. “Trust me, will you?” The words are rich, almost velvety, and you can’t ignore the delicious shiver that races down your spine—it has to be intentional.

“I invited you here, so this is on me. Just relax and look pretty,” he adds, leaning back with a playful smile. He takes your hand, his touch gentle, guiding you toward the woman with the birds.

You try to steady your breathing, eyes drifting over the way his black shirt perfectly moulds to his sculpted back.

“How much?” he asks with a friendly grin.

“Five bucks,” the old lady replies, rising slowly with the careful movements of age. “Take as many pictures as you like.” She extends her hands, offering you the vibrant little birds resting on her fingers.

You stifle an "aww" as you gently take the birds, carefully placing two on your head and trying to balance them without letting them tumble. 

But managing so many little ones at once is tricky.

Noticing your struggle, Leander steps in with a grin, placing one bird on your shoulder and positioning another on your index and middle fingers.

“Thanks.”

“No problem.”

He steps back, adjusting his camera before bringing it up to his eye, his focus fully on you.

“Ready? One… two… three…”

Click.

Click.

Without thinking, you shift into another pose, gazing softly at the bird perched on your finger. Leander, not missing a beat, snaps away.

The little bird on your shoulder ruffles its feathers, alerting you and gently you  reach over and place a warm hand on it, adjusting it to a more comfortable spot. 

You can’t help as you lean in to place a light kiss on its tiny head—they’re just too cute to resist!

Click. Click.

You chuckle, raising an eyebrow. "Having fun?"

"A lot," Leander smirks, his eyes never leaving the camera.

One by one, you hand the little birds back to the old lady, watching as she gently returns them to their perch. You notice there's no cage in sight, and a small sense of relief washes over you.

“They’re trained well,” Leander comments, as if reading your thoughts.

It’s not the first time he’s done that, and it spooks you. With his sunny personality, it’s easy to forget how sharp his eyes can be.

“So, where to next?” you ask, steering the conversation away .

He gestures down the road. “Let’s find a bar—the dim lighting makes for some stunning shots.”

And now here you are, leaning against the bar counter, trying to strike a casual pose.

You debate whether to keep a neutral expression or offer a smile.

“Easy… easy,” Leander soothes, as if sensing your nerves.

"Ah, sorry," you mutter under your breath.

"No, no," he reassures, his tone encouraging. "Take your time.”

"I don’t know what to do with my face," you admit, a bit flustered.

Kiss me.

Leander quickly clears his throat, pushing that thought aside, though the temptation lingers.

"Try looking to the right… avoid looking at the camera,” he suggests gently.

You nod, turning your head to the right.

Leander watches you in the dim light, noticing how the soft, golden glow highlights your features.

He adjusts the focus and takes a few shots.

“Do something with your hair,” he says softly, “like you’re fixing it—run your hand through it.”

You follow his direction, hoping for a picture-worthy moment just as the camera shutter clicks again.

“Perfect,” he says with a satisfied smile, scrolling through the photos.

You chuckle. “I can already imagine the caption— ‘This was a particularly difficult one,’ ” you say dramatically, adding air quotes.

Leander bursts into genuine laughter, clearly amused at your humour.

“Honestly, I don’t know who told you otherwise,” he says, raising a brow. “You seem like a natural to me.”

“Or maybe you’re the natural,” you shoot back.

Leander smirks, his eyes gleaming with playful mischief.

“At photography, I mean,” you quickly clarify, feeling a sudden need to explain yourself, as though he’d read a double meaning into your words.

“Only at photography?” he murmurs with an intense gaze, lips curling into a devilish smirk.

You blink, caught off guard. “What?” You weren’t oblivious to flirtations, but you didn’t want to be delusional and get ahead of yourself.

“Nothing,” Leander says, shaking his head with a slight smile as he checks his phone. 

But the faint pink blush dusting his cheeks betrays him—he was definitely flirting. 

A surge of boldness sparks within you, and you wonder if you should indulge.

Maybe offer him your number, or even suggest a date...

“Guess it’s getting late,” his voice interrupts your thoughts, pulling you back to the present. “I’ve probably kept you long enough,” he chuckles, a little sheepishly.

He turns off the camera that was live recording, signalling the end of your time together.

A slight panic flares up—you weren’t ready for this to end. “Actually, I really enjoyed our time together,” you say, hoping he hears the sincerity in your voice.

“Did you?” he asks, grinning with a playful glint. “It’s okay, you can be honest.”

This was your chance. Now or NEVER!

You take a steadying breath. “No, really—I wouldn’t mind part two.”

“A part two?”

“Yeah,” you pause, letting the anticipation build, “maybe… a date this time.”

Your words catch him completely off guard. After a beat of silence, nerves begin to creep in, and just as you’re about to laugh it off and backpedal, he speaks up.

“I thought you’d never ask,” he chuckles, a blush paints  his cheeks again as he glances away, then back at you. “Bold, aren’t you?” he teases, mirth dancing in his eyes. “You stole my move, but hey, I’m not complaining.”

“So… is that a yes?” you ask, grinning from ear to ear, your heart fluttering.

“On one condition,” he replies, a teasing glint in his eyes, drawing out the moment.

You pause, brow furrowed. “Oh? And what’s that?”

He grins, holding out his phone. “Your number.”

You roll your eyes, playing along. “How suave. What a gentleman.”

But you take his phone, entering your number. 

“No wonder you asked me out,” he chuckles, matching your sass.

“Careful,” you smirk, typing your name into his contacts. “Don’t make me second-guess it.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, sweetheart,” he teases, drawing out the nickname with a playful grin.

---------------------------------------------------

A/N note: I hope you all enjoyed this! I was getting lazy to post this, this was written way back in September I think lol, sorry.

Constructive criticism is appreciated as I am still finding my writing style and experimenting.

Tell me your thoughts.

[mattsbows]

ribbons and lace ౨ৎ sam golbach

in which. . .you give sam a little punishment for claiming something is "too girly"

smut, sub!sam, bondage, use of pet names (both sweet and demeaning), oral (m), edging, grinding

1.2k words

you were by far the girliest person anyone had ever met. your entire closet was a combination of pinks, white, and soft greys. your and sam’s bedroom looked more like your bedroom, considering the circle bed, plushy pink comforter, and the girly knick knacks that were strewn around the room. 

this usually wasn’t a problem. sam didn’t mind the fact that it looked like a boutique had exploded in your house. you were happy and that was all he cared about. however, he was a boy, after all. sometimes he wanted to do…well, guy things, which was rather hard in your hyperfeminine home. 

“sweetheart, do we have any, uh, non hello kitty cups?” he asked you gently, looking through the cabinets. 

“i don’t think so. why?” you questioned, looking up from the ulta catalogue that you were currently circling your wishlist in. 

“well, uh…”

you cocked your head at sam’s hesitation. “go on.”

“it’s just that these glasses are a bit girly to drink a beer out of. that’s all.” he mumbled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his reddening neck. 

you blinked, a smirk growing on your face. “too girly, huh?”

“baby,” sam started. “it’s not a bad thing! i just wanted something a little more guylike.”

you folded your catalogue, feigning irritation. what you really felt though, was a spark of attraction and excitement. “bedroom. now.”

“but i didn’t mean it like-” sam was cut off by you grabbing his wrist, a coy smile on your glossy pink lips. 

“i suggest you get your pretty little ass to the bedroom right now, or you won’t cum for two weeks. got it?” you teased. 

sam blushed at your words, nodding softly. he knew better than to argue with you. it wouldn’t get him what he wanted. the blond dropped his head quietly, making his way to the bedroom. he knew you would follow in time, the best thing to do now was be patient for whatever awaited him.

you waited a few beats before entering the bedroom, noting sam on his knees on the bed. “good boy.” you smiled

sam whined at your statement as you sat beside him, rubbing your hand along his upper thigh. his dick was already starting to harden from you teasing him, and your rubbing wasn’t helping. 

“‘m gonna show you just how feminine i can get, baby boy,” you cooed with fake sweetness. “c’mon. be a good little thing and strip.”

your boyfriend did as told, slowly removing his shirt and pants until he was left in just boxers. you stared at him with a watchful eye, not even needing words to embarrass the boy. 

“sammy needs to learn his lesson, huh?” you tutted, straddling his lap. “needs to be shown what having a smart mouth will get you.” you grinned, beginning to grind on his covered cock.

“f-fuck…” sam whimpered quietly. “i’m sorry. didn’t mean to talk back. shit.” he whined.

you began to dry hump sam harder, your skirt-covered hips bucking against his own. the blond had his head thrown back, little whines and grunts leaving his lips as he gripped the hem of your shirt. he was so painfully hard that it hurt. 

just as you felt sam’s cock twitch with oncoming orgasm, you moved off his lap. “you didn’t think you were getting off that easy, did you?” you chuckled. 

the blond whined, his lower lip jutting out. “need to cum…” he whined, dick so painfully hard.

“awww, too bad. i’m not done having my fun,” you shrugged. “on your back.”

sam did as told, knowing the faster he obeyed you, the faster he would get the sweet release he had been chasing just moments prior. he had brought this upon himself, after all. as soon as his back hit the pink pillows, you spread his legs, pulling his boxers down his legs. as soon the material was off, his dick sprung up, red, hard, and glistening with pre cum. 

“you gonna be a good boy?” you questioned. 

he nodded eagerly, needing to feel your touch on his body once more. “y-yes. promise.” he mumbled, looking up at you with those blue puppy eyes. 

“so you’ll let me tie you up, huh? let me use you however i please?”

sam nodded eagerly, willing to do practically anything to have you touch him. you smiled at his compliance, bouncing off the bed and skipping over to your vanity. you dug around in the drawers for a moment, before pulling out two spools of ribbon; one lacy and one silky pink. 

before sam knew it, you were gracefully tying his hands and feet together using the ribbon. to make the punishment extra sweet and ironic, you made sure to finish the bonds with bows, giggling at your work. “not too girly now, huh baby?” you said, voice dripping with false sympathy.

“‘m sorry.” the blond whined gently, cheeks reddening at the situation. 

you hummed gently, beginning to suck and lick at his cock. your large doe eyes fluttered innocently, your falsies batting against your blushed cheeks. sam groaned as the stimulation made him ache with pleasure. he needed to grab onto something. the more he whined, the faster you went, taking him until his dick hit the back of your throat. 

“shit,” sam whimpered, wriggling in his pink, lacy ties. “need to…need to cum.”

as soon as your boyfriend said that, you pulled off with a pop, sitting back on your legs and glaring at him sweetly. “beg for it, sam. i know you can do it.”

“please,” he moaned, stomach clenching with the need for orgasm. “please let me cum.”

“no. you wanted to act like a little brat, now you’re getting treated like one.” was your short answer before you were back to teasing him, the flat of your tongue running along the underside of his dick. 

sam whined, the ache from being edged becoming so powerful that tears were pricking at the corners of his eyes. he couldn’t even grasp the sheets to control himself, hands still bound with your ribbons. “fuck…oh, mmm…” he moaned. 

finally, you pulled off, looking up at him with a smile. “have you been a good boy, sweetheart?” you asked, reaching up to caress his sweat-dampened cheek. 

your boy nodded eagerly as a tear ran down his face. “mhm. been a good boy. ‘m sorry for misbehaving.”

you grinned, patting his cheek. “you’re such a whore, baby. you know that? go ahead,” you purred, starting to stroke his aching cock. “cum for me.”

sam was so sensitive from being edged repeatedly that he came with just a few pumps of your hand. he cried out repeatedly as the warm, white substance coated your hand, finally giving him the release he’d been craving. as soon as he was finished, your boyfriend laid back against the pillows, panting heavily. 

you kissed sam’s forehead, before wiping your hand off with a wipe from your nightstand and moving to untie his binds. “did you learn your lesson, love?” you asked, the mean demeanor you had given him just moments prior now gone. 

the blond nodded his tiredly, beyond worn out. “yeah. i guess girly stuff isn't that bad.” he mumbled, going red again. 

“damn right it isn’t, sweetheart.”

a note from the author: hey so me and @tyummyz were insane for this idea! enjoy<3

❁ tags: @mattsdemi @purpledragon222 @slxtarchive @natashad0627 @quinnynation @tyummyz @colorthecosmos444 @lockettesroom @mattyblover07 @marrykisskilled @beautyloves @nicksbestie

[venstm]

I want to preface this by saying that I am holding myself accountable for not stepping up and either breaking off the friendship sooner or defending myself properly. As it stands even now I am not someone who copes well with confrontation and would rather stay as far away from it as possible. I’m speaking now because other people are coming forward with their stories and experiences. Whilst I have very few actual screenshots of conversations please understand that the interactions I’m discussing impacted me quite a lot mentally. It’s up to you to decide if you think I’m overreacting but by the end of those six months I had basically decided I no longer had a place in the rpc where I was welcomed after losing that friendship. I’ll be putting this under a read more so look at your own discretion. I won’t be speaking about this again after this.

If terios / ty sees this and decides they wish to unblock me and speak about it in order to see these feelings discussed and resolved im okay with that and if anyone else who has been in a similar situation needs someone to talk to or discuss it with in also open to that.

At the beginning of our friendship things were pretty intense and feeling like you were the main writing partner for someone who had already established themselves a place in the rpc was such a good feeling ? It’s like you really belong and you have someone who is so invested in your portrayal that you feel really important. There were many times where this once good feeling became tarnished by negativity, bitterness and what to me, felt like being bullied or belittled.

I’ll touch on a few things I really do remember quite clearly and be understanding that my adhd / ptsd and other things impact my capacity to retain information all the time I try to be very clear with this when talking with mutuals to avoid them becoming frustrated when I don’t remember everything all the time. they would tell me I wasn’t listening or paying attention when I tried to explain this.

there was a lot of time monopolising that I ended up enabling, this one in particular was mentioned to me by my partner who ended up feeling like I really distanced myself from them and even when I did want / try to spend time with them terios’ reaction would always be to change their tone to speaking bitterly or giving off this change of energy and if you recognise it you know it’s the sort where you’ve done something wrong and you need to fix it immediately.

There were also times where other friends became an issue, terios had problems with someone I was interacting with on dash. At the time I wanted to be in their corner because we were really close, they were my closest friend but these people had also been nothing but nice to me and I didn’t have issues with them. This tension went on for a while until terios let me know that I was two faced for not taking their side fully and I ended up blocking them which I thought was the right answer to appeasing someone who was upset. Yes, this was my fault I should have said no but they were a really important friend to me and I wanted them to feel like they were heard and understood. In the end I lost both of those friends and another friend who told me that if I continued to always take terios’ side in arguments like that I would have no one else left but them in the end.

It also happened when I mentioned that I was watching things with my mutual, we had only just started writing again after not speaking for a long time and terios was instantly making comments about it, usually vague and never good and when I finally said hey you know this isn’t cool to be saying this their response was just that I should have told them that sooner.

They were always unpleasant about Gepard ships that weren’t ours and I don’t know if that was because they just had a bias or not but I remember plotting an almost au verse with a firefly writer and dropping it because they were telling me when and how would that happen why is this something you’re writing ? basically implying that I owed it to some how justify what I was deciding to write for my muse ?

This also happened when I was creating an au for Gepard around being a vampire hunter I was so excited about it and I wanted to tell them and their response was to pick it apart reminding me oh this doesn’t make sense for Gepard’s canon age or this doesn’t make sense for his family and whilst I get caring about canon it really made me feel ? like my spark had just been squashed something I was so excited about just being torn to shreds completely and I never spoke about it again, tobias was there when this happened I had just came home from the gym in tears because I was so upset about it.

As those who interact with me know I am someone who is always earnestly trying to expand my vocabulary and learn new ways to incorporate cool stuff into my writing and there was one time one time when I used a word wrong and I did apologize for it and they ended up bringing it up over and over again for three months and whilst it was a joke in their eyes I don’t doubt it really just made me not want to try to improve my writing anymore and minimised myself to be someone they would approve of.

it also felt like anytime I began to get the confidence to bring up how I was feeling that it was turned around to make me feel worse or shit and like the whole situation was my fault rather than looking at it and both taking accountability and working to find a solution. I found this so challenging because so many times I left feeling like I was truly in the wrong because they had told me I was.

SC:

The last thing I will mention is that they will jump between gepard writers quite frequently. I wasn’t on the receiving end of this but I do know that when they blocked me only a day later then were dming a mutual and friend of mine who they had all but ghosted for those six months asking to write again. While this isn’t the worst thing ever I can only imagine how shitty that must feel and I know when they spoke to me and I said this it really hit home for them that they had been second best for those whole six months despite being there before me. This has happened with other Gepard writers too not just me and that person.

In the end a lot of this shit could have been amended if I told them your behaviour is shitty and it’s making me feel like shit but who wants to be put in a situation with a friend or writing partner where they feel like they have to make that choice.

I still do think terios is a good writer and they’re committed to the sampo they’re shaping but there are ways to interact with people that are kinder and not always with this undertone of being nasty or mean or spiteful. Again, if they or anyone else does want to talk to me about this they can and I trust that everyone can decide who they want to write with themselves. I just want my feelings and story to be heard and others to know they can speak up too.

[kptssecretsanta]

Merry Christmas, @dr-lemurr!

Merry Christmas drlemurr! I love all the beautiful art you contribute to the fandom I hope you enjoy your gift <333

Ship: KimChay

Tags: Fluff, Boys in Skirts, Established Relationship, Gender Exploration, Being Walked in On

*****

A Reason To Be Pretty

Kim's meeting with his manager ended a lot earlier than expected. Kim used to want to drag out meetings and schedules so he could be Wik for longer, but now he has a beautiful boy waiting in his apartment for him to scoop up and kiss and cuddle so he had no problem leaving his manager's office half an hour early.

Kim opened their apartment door and walked in expecting Chay to leap up and greet him from the couch where he spends all his time studying and playing video games, but there was no Chay in sight. Kim walked around the house but couldn't find his boyfriend anywhere, maybe he went out, Kim thought. Finally Kim checked the bathroom. He opened the door not bothering to knock as he and Chay were not fussed about privacy with each other.

“Chay I’ve been looking for you everywhere, I was starting to get worried.” Kim whined. As he stepped onto the tiled floor all he could do was stare and blink.

Chay was standing in front of the mirror in a short blue pleated skirt, knee length socks, and a camisole, holding a tube of mascara. There was even a little bow clip in his hair. 

All that occupied Kim’s mind in that moment was how adorable Chay looked. 

Chay froze and blinked back at Kim before scrambling to run away. Being in the bathroom he did not have much luck and ended up squatting in between the sink and bathtub.

“I didn’t know you would be back so soon.” Chay said as he looked up at Kim.

“Huh.” Kim responded stupidly.

Chay opened and closed his mouth a few times before finally saying, “How about you get out of the bathroom and I get up from sitting on the floor and we can have a better conversation in the living room.”

“Yes. That's a good idea,” Kim nodded before exiting the bathroom backwards. He sat down on the couch and waited for Chay.

After a few minutes he came out and Kim sat Chay down in his lap and stared at him, the skirt was gone but he still had a bow in his hair. Chay blushed all the way to his ears.

“Um you weren’t really supposed to see that but it's okay I think? Is it okay with you? I just don't know. I saw the skirt one time and I tried it on and it just made me happy for some reason I don't know, that's not weird is it?”

“Slow down baby.” Kim chuckled, “yes it's okay.”

“It's okay,” Chay repeated with a sigh.

Kim brought his hands to his boyfriends cheeks, “Do you want to talk about it? Do you do that a lot when I'm not here?”

“Not like every time, only if I’m in the mood for it I guess. If that makes sense.” Chay said.

 “Is it like a sex thing or…..?”

Chay blushed even more, “I don't think so, though I wouldn't mind that if you wanted it to be.” He paused and frowned a little, “I don’t know why I like it so much, I don't want to actually be a girl or anything I don't think?. It's just fun for some reason. It's freeing; I feel so myself and...” he paused and looked down at the couch they were sitting on, “I like feeling pretty.”

“You looked very pretty.”

“Really?” Chay asked and Kim nodded in response, “Thank you.” He murmured into Kim's neck.

“You can wear it around the house if you want, when I’m there.” Kim played with the little bow clip in Chay’s hair, he couldn’t help but still think it was the most adorable thing he’d ever seen.

“You want me too?” Chay looked back up at his boyfriend with eyes full of wonder.

“Yeah. I could even buy you another skirt if you wanted,” he placed a kiss on Chay's fluffy hair, “or more clips.” Kim was never going to pass up an opportunity to spoil him, and he would do anything to help Chay be more Chay.

Chay cuddled as close as he could into Kim’s body, “I’m so glad you came home early.”

Kim gently held his cheeks and kissed his adorable person, “Me too, pretty baby.”

[cosette141]

You, Me, and Who You Used to Be | CS Fic (CSSS 2024 Gift for BelovedCreation)

Merry Christmas!!

I'm your Santa this year!! :) 🎄🎄

Using your prompts of pining, Enchanted Forest, and angst with a happy ending, I give you:

Summary: (CS movie divergence) After getting her parents back on track, Emma’s magic returns. But before she can conjure a portal home, Killian is abducted. Alone in a world she knows nothing about and with no idea how to find Killian, Emma enlists the only person—or rather, pirate—who would be as motivated to save Killian as she is. However… Killian’s past may just be what destroys the future. CS

AO3

Words (so far): 5k+

NOTE: This is currently only the first chapter of this fic - long story short, the fic I spent weeks on just was not coming together, so I last minute changed to this one. It was an idea I had written the beginning of years ago that I remembered when I was trying to find something to align with the prompts you gave me :D so I knew it would be perfect to write for your gift!! I spent the past week working super hard on this trying to get it finished for you in time, but it was getting so rushed and you do not deserve a rushed gift!! So I decided to give you the first 5k words now, and I'll be updating it with the rest over the coming weeks! :)

Chapter One (under the cut!)

A/N: Story context: This is a canon divergence of the CS movie, which begins right after Emma gets the wand from Rumplestiltskin. (He does not send him to his vault of do-not-touch things in this version tho. We’ll pretend Elsa gets to Storybrooke some other way lol. I’ll also be ignoring Marian, which, the show pretty much did when it just ended up being Zelena anyway lol. 

Emma smiled at the faintly glowing wand in her fingers, feeling the warmth of the return of her magic, lighting a glow in the vast dining room of Rumplestiltskin’s castle. 

Everything was back on track.

Including herself.

Perhaps she had been trying to take the easy way out, blocking her magic from returning so she could go back to New York with no ties left behind. 

But more than anything, it was Killian’s smile now that made the warmth inside her grow even more, and if it wasn’t her imagination, made the wand spark a little brighter.

“It works,” whispered Emma, staring at the wand in awe, eyes snapping to Killian. “My magic is back!”

“I knew you could do it, love.” said Killian softly, a relief in his eyes, like it was for both the possibility of getting back home, and for the fact that he still blamed himself for her powers being taken in the first place. 

“Ah, the Savior, of course,” murmured Rumplestiltskin from his perch on the edge of his dining table. “I should have known you would have magic of your own.”

Emma suddenly realized just how much Rumplestiltskin knew. “Is it a problem that you know…?”

“It would be,” he agreed, but lifted his hand, where a potion bottle materialized. “However, I have spent the past few hours mixing myself a Forgetting Potion.”

Emma smiled. “Good. Well, let’s do this, then.” She then lifted the wand, about to attempt to bring forth the time portal.

“Wait, wait, wait,” said Rumplestiltskin, jumping down and pushing her hand with the wand down. “Not in here. You might bring any number of my possessions with you.”

Emma winced, eyes finding the myriad of scary-looking things in the castle, wondering just how catastrophic that could be. 

She looked from Killian’s raised eyebrow to Rumplestiltskin. “So where do we—“

But not a second later, Rumplestiltskin’s castle was gone, and suddenly they were outside. Trees, greenery and blue sky replaced the walls of the Dark One’s abode. They weren’t too far from the town below, and not far off was the sea. But they were in an empty enough area of the forest that no one should see anything, and nothing should come with them.

 “Well,” said Killian, giving her another smile, “ready, there, Swan?”

Emma nodded. She lifted the wand again, concentrating on her magic, on the emotion in her chest, bright and raw. The tiny flicker of a portal, like a zipper drawn in the very fabric of the air, appeared before them. 

Killian grinned. “That’s it, lo—” 

He was cut off with a grunt, and Emma’s eyes snapped to him, her concentration broken and the tiny beginnings of the portal fizzled back out of existence. 

Emma’s heart stopped. 

They were no longer alone. 

A burly, muscled man had his arm around Killian’s neck in a chokehold, his other arm pinning Killian’s left arm to his side. Killian let out an angry, surprised snarl, jerking hard against the grip. 

“Hook!” cried Emma, jamming the wand in her back pocket to hide it and running toward him, only skidding to a stop when three other thugs suddenly flanked the first.

“Sw—“ began Killian, his right hand scrabbling at the hold around his neck, but his airway was quickly cut off. Red rushed to his face, and Emma’s heart froze.

“Sorry, darlin’,” said the man’s raspy voice. “We got direct orders to bring Captain Hook in. He stole from us last night, and now he gon’ pay. Pretty stupid to show yer face in the open like this, without yer crew, no less.” A dark chuckle. “Shoulda sailed away when he had the chance.” To someone behind him, he shouted, “Lucky catch, men!”

Killian struggled against them, something angry and feral, landing a blow to the man's gut. The man growled and stumbled, and Killian reared back to hit him again until the man snapped, “Stop fightin’ or the wench dies!” That made Killian freeze, staring at her with icy horror. 

For a moment, Emma and Killian stared at each other, and it felt like time stood still.

Panic rushed through Emma's chest.

Magic.

Magic.

But she had no idea how to use her magic.

And if she took even a step forward, she'd get a sword through her in seconds.

Killian grunted as a second thug grabbed him on his other side, ripping Killian's sword from his sheath.

Panic rose even sharper in Emma's chest.

Killian swallowed, eyes locked onto her. “Go—home,” Killian managed, his eyes pleading and broken, with something in them that looked like goodbye, only making Emma’s eyes burn. 

“Hook—!” breathed Emma, running for him, but froze when three swords pointed in her direction, so close to her it made her stumble back, falling to the ground.

And by the time she made it back to her feet, they were gone.

-.-.-.

Dark had fallen.

The air had chilled. 

But none of it gave her the cold dread inside her chest. 

She’d searched for hours.

But those men obviously knew this forest better than she did, and it was easy to get lost in it. 

Too easy.

She let them take him.

Emma kicked herself.

She should have done something.

She should have done something.

She should have been spending all the time back in Storybrooke learning magic instead of shoving it away.

Because now Killian was gone, and it was all her fault.

She got them stuck in the past.

She was the reason Killian stopped trying to free himself from those bastards.

She was the reason that they may never see each other again.

Emma couldn’t stop seeing his eyes. 

The resignation.

The defeat. 

The horrible, utter sadness.

She was now alone, and she’d never felt this alone in her entire life. 

It was one thing to grow up being alone. 

And it was another thing entirely to find people, to fall for people, and to have them ripped from you.

It was an entirely different thing to know what it felt like to not be alone.

And ever since meeting Killian, more or less after he decided to become a part of something , he’d been practically glued to her side. He’d voluntarily gone back to the land he hated more than anywhere, he’d given up his revenge, he’d found her in freaking New York City —an endeavor Emma still didn’t know how he managed to do—and how he managed to find her in a world he knew hardly anything about?

Emma stopped on the path, feeling the chill of the air. 

Even the air felt different in the Enchanted Forest. It felt… unearthly, which, wasn’t exactly off point. The magic in the land seemed to crackle like a charged atmosphere. The animal sounds, the nightly coos and caws were different, and all this different was unsettling and…

She really, really didn’t want to admit she was scared. 

But Emma didn’t have Mary Margaret with her this time. She didn’t have a princess squad to help her through. And, she didn’t have Hook.

Killian, who was god knew where. 

He might even already be—

No , said a firm voice in her head, trying to quell the hair that raised on the back of her neck at the thought. They wouldn’t have kidnapped him if they were going to be quick about it. 

The idea of him suffering at all…

Emma swallowed, hard, trying to shove down the rush of panic that shook her fingers.

How the hell was she supposed to find him?

She was a complete outsider. 

She not only wasn’t from this town, she wasn’t from this world , and she wasn’t from this time, not by a long shot. 

She was trapped thirty years in the past, and Killian could be anywhere. 

“Go home.”

Emma shut her eyes at Killian’s echo.

Go home.

He wanted her to go home.

He wanted her to leave him here, conjure the portal, and go home.

The very fact that he thought she would made her chest hurt, because how could he think she’d leave him here?

But…

“You really thought I’d let you drown?”

“Given our history, can you blame me for being uncertain? ”

Here she was thinking how he could possibly think she didn’t care about him, when…

“Do you even care about them? Or anyone in this town?”

He said anyone.

He meant me.

And replaying it all, how could she think he’d know she did?

All she’s done since he saved her in New York, was walk away from him.

But she did care.

She more than cared.

And now, she may never —

No.

Emma opened her eyes, ignoring the burn in them.

Determination set into her face, Emma made up her mind without hesitation. 

There was no way she was leaving here without Killian.

The thought of returning to life without him, living without him…

It felt wrong. 

Something about him in her life just made sense. Even now, she felt like something was missing, and suddenly she was wondering how she ever considered leaving her family, leaving him, to go back to New York. 

“Go home.”

She couldn’t go home when he already became her home.

But… 

How on earth—or, how in the Enchanted Forest—was she supposed to find him?

And before they did something terrible and irreversible to him?

“He stole from us last night. Now he’s gon' pay.”

Emma blinked. 

Killian didn’t steal anything from anyone; she knew he hadn’t. He’d been too concerned with messing up the time continuum.

He hadn’t stolen.

But Emma had a pretty good feeling who had.

And Killian was currently paying for his crime. 

Emma smiled grimly, a plan unfolding in her head. 

She started walking, faster this time.

She just hoped the Jolly Roger was still in port. 

-.-.-.

Emma clung to the shadows when she entered the town. 

Thanks to Rumplestiltskin returning her clothes, she was no longer wearing the ragged dress and cloak that they had stolen, and was back in her jeans and leather jacket. Something that, Killian’s voice reminded her, hasn’t come into vogue, ever. So… she had to be careful. They just fixed the timeline; they cannot ruin it all over again.

But Killian was worth that risk.

As she clung to the dark areas of town, Emma was reminded of a younger her, living on the streets, dodging shadowy corners to pitch black alleyways. It was evening, the sky blackening with an array of stars, but the town still bustled with life, mostly around the taverns. 

Emma passed the tavern she and Killian had found his past-self in, and Emma risked a look inside, but he wasn’t there. 

Her heart quickening, Emma suddenly worried he wasn’t even in town.

She picked up her pace, following the path past-Hook had led her down when he’d been her inebriated guide. 

Emma emerged from the cover of an alley, looking up to see the sea, and ships of all sizes moored at the docks. And among them—

Emma felt relief flood her. 

The Jolly Roger. 

She smiled despite herself, picking up her pace. As she got closer, she could see the crew retracting the anchor—

They were leaving. 

Her heart pounding, Emma began to sprint. 

With grunts of heaving, two members of the Jolly’s crew were lifting the gangplank.

It was halfway up when Emma got to it, flinging herself off the dock and onto it, barely making the jump. She slid down the wood, landing in a heap on the deck. 

“What in the blazes—?!”

The two men nearly dropped the gangplank, but managed to finish shutting it, faster, as if worrying that someone else was going to attempt Emma’s jump. 

Her entire body throbbing from the mistreatment, Emma slowly picked herself up from the deck. She quickly noticed at least a dozen pirates were staring at her in shock. 

But a voice broke through the din, and Emma would recognize it anywhere. 

“Well, you don’t bloody see something like that every day.”

-.-.-.

Despite her protests, Emma had been manhandled by two of the crew members and dragged into the Captain’s Quarters a moment after she’d seen him. He’d witnessed her reckless jump onto his ship, but hadn’t said a word to her yet. 

She was currently in the chair opposite his desk, two burly hands on her shoulders keeping her pinned down, and Hook was in his chair behind the desk, staring at her in silence. 

“What are you doing aboard my ship?” he said finally. 

Emma flicked her eyes to the pirate holding her down, then back to Hook. “I’ll tell you, but only you.”

Hook sighed, then flicked his eyes to the man behind her, giving a minute nod and a slight roll of his eyes. Then, when the door clicked shut, he gave her a pointed look.

Emma let out a breath, her heart beating in a frenzy. This Hook was not half as drunk as he was when they last met. His gaze on her was cold and measured and there was no trace of the softness Killian had now. It unnerved her, this air of danger he held, sitting before her. Waiting. 

But Emma swallowed, trying to remember, this is still Killian. Just… buried under two hundred years of pain and resentment. 

It didn’t make her feel better. 

“I need your help.” said Emma at last, holding his gaze. 

His brow lifted, like that was the last thing he’d expected her to say. “My help?” he echoed, lips twisting a little in amusement. “I’m a pirate captain, lass. You’ve mistaken me for someone who gives. Pirates take.”

Emma resisted the urge to roll her eyes at the irony that all he’s done the past two years was give. 

Worry fluttered in her stomach, suddenly wondering if her Killian was all right.

And when did he start being ‘her’ Killian?

Emma let out another breath. “Yeah, that’s actually what brings me here. All I need to know,” said Emma slowly, “is who you stole from last night.” 

She’d thought it through; if she could just get the name or the place of the person who he’d stolen from, she could go find Killian without Hook ever needing to know she was from the future. 

Hook paused. 

Suspicion suddenly gleamed in his eyes. 

He stood, and rounded his desk until he was standing before her. 

The suspicion only deepened in his eyes.

Emma could feel the danger radiate off him like a cologne. 

She was trying not to shrink under his intense gaze when he leaned even closer, his face inches from hers. He searched her eyes.

“You,” he whispered. “I remember you.”

Emma’s heart skipped. “You do?” she breathed. 

She should have known it was irrational to think he meant he remembered knowing her. 

Because his eyes narrowed, coldness in the blue. “You owe me a nightcap, love.”

Emma froze. “Oh,” she said, biting her lip. “Didn’t blame the rum, huh?”

He leaned back slightly, but looked no less predatory. “I’m guessing this is from you as well,” he said, brushing the metal of his hook to his cheek where Killian had hit him. 

Emma winced. “Not exactly—“

He was suddenly in her face again, eyes narrowed, colder than ice. “You were trying to get me drunk. To get on my ship,” he muttered. “Why?”

Oops.

Emma tried to think fast. 

She did not like a version of Killian that scared her, and this one did exactly that. 

As if to prove the point, he raised his hook, tracing her jaw until the tip was underneath her chin, forcing her head up. Emma gasped reflexively, suddenly realizing how bad of an idea this had been. “Tell me,” he hissed, “or this will be rather unpleasant.”

Emma swallowed, trying to stem the rush of fear. To hell with the timeline. “I’m from the future.”

His brow rose sharply, surprise and a little confusion slipping into that cold expression. Clearly time travel was not one of the things he’d expected her to say. 

It was the second time she’d surprised him, and Emma knew he wasn’t an easily surprised man.

Before he could interrupt, she went on, wincing as the sharp tip of his hook stung. “I’m telling you the truth,” she said quickly, fear sending a shiver down her spine. “I’m from… about thirty years in the future. I think. It’s really hard to keep track with all the curses," she finished, which even to her ears sounded like she was crazy.

“Time travel is unheard of.” said Hook, dismissing her whole story.

"You spend two hundred years on an island where time doesn't even exist and this is too crazy for you to imagine?" snapped Emma exasperatedly.

He ignored her. “Now, what are you really doing on my ship? Clearly if you’d gotten what you wanted, you wouldn’t have been daft enough to return.” His eyes looked her up and down, his brow lifting when his eyes reached hers, and Emma glared at him. “And if I had gotten what I wanted, that night would not have ended with you injuring me.” A cold smile. “Well, not in the traditional way, anyway.”

Emma huffed out a breath, almost forgetting just how innuendo-clad he once was. “Look, I’m telling the truth . I need your help to—“ She gasped, the tip of his hook digging slightly deeper. 

“You will tell me what I want to know,” said Hook quietly. He removed his namesake, and Emma winced. “I’ll give you the night to think it over. Lie to me again," his voice lowering, dipping into the personification of danger as his gaze bored into hers, and she tried not to shrink under it, "you’ll be walking the plank in the morning.” He moved away from her, and Emma realized she'd forgotten how to breathe.

“Hook—“ began Emma, but Hook simply barked, “Jenkins!”

The door opened, and one of the men who had dragged her down here walked inside. 

“Take her to the brig.”

Emma’s heart pounded. “No— Hook,” she said quickly as he sat nonchalantly back at his desk. “I need—“

Emma was grabbed from behind and forced out. 

He didn’t look up as they took her. 

But when he thought she was out of sight, she saw him briefly touch his fingers to his lips, something unreadable stirring in his eyes.

-.-.-.-.

Emma waited until she was left alone, and the ship had quieted down enough to suggest the crew was asleep.

They’d bound her hands in front of her, which was their first mistake. 

Feeling a sense of deja vu, Emma felt along the ground until she found something useful. Finding something sharp and thin enough to work, she quickly got to work on the lock to the cage. 

The trouble was opening the door without it creaking, which took her plenty of precious minutes. 

Once free, she left the brig, and quietly made her way to the armory.

It was good that she was familiar with the ship after Neverland. Plenty of hours on the water had her nervous energy getting the better of herself and she’d done some extensive exploring. She’d paced the ship enough to know where its creaky boards were, so she was inside the armory in silence quickly. 

Emma grabbed the first blade she could find—a knife—and freed her hands, then took the gag from her mouth. 

Gripping the knife in her shaking hands, Emma left the armory, walking down the hallway to the door at the very end. 

The Captain’s Quarters. 

Feeling plenty of uncertainty, but needing to know where Killian was, Emma slowly reached for the door handle, glad the ridiculously loud chorus of snoring from the crew covered much of the noise she made. 

Slowly and without breathing, she opened his door. 

Emma shut it just as quietly, and the noise of the snoring was muted. 

Emma turned. 

The cabin was dark. 

And there, lying on his bed, was Hook. Asleep.

She could see him breathe beneath the blanket. 

Carefully, and avoiding every creak in the floor she knew of, Emma crept up to his bed. 

Then, she held the knife an inch from his throat, opening her mouth to wake him.

“Do I need to explain what a nightcap is to you?”

Emma jumped a mile in her skin.

Hook’s eyes were open, and he looked from the knife at his throat to Emma. A raised brow, he deadpanned, “You escaped.”

“You underestimated me.” she countered. He lifted his brow as Emma continued firmly, “I need you to help me.”

“Help me?” he echoed. His eyes flicked from the knife to her eyes. “You’re taking your life in your hands threatening me, lass.” he said dangerously.

“I’m trying to save your life!” snapped Emma.

His brow hitched higher, again flicking his eyes pointedly to the blade, then back at her. 

Emma sighed, removing the knife from his throat. 

He still didn’t move, eyeing her still suspiciously. “How is it you think you’re saving me?” he asked. 

Emma sighed shortly. “Look. I told you I was from the future. I am. I’m from your future. And I didn’t get sent to the past alone.” She took a breath, hoping telling him wouldn’t implode the timeline. But she was scared, she was alone, and without his information, she would never be able to find Killian. She could only hope that after she saved Killian, he’d still exist when they returned to their time. 

Emma sighed. “When I got sent here, you came with me.” she said finally.

Confusion kneaded his brows with honest puzzlement, and for the first time he looked almost like her Killian. “I… what?” he managed.

Emma sighed shortly. “You— future you,” clarified Emma. “You’re here, in the past, too.”

Hook looked lost in thought for a second. Then— “That was bloody real?”

“What was?” asked Emma.

He sat up, regarding her with both suspicion and shock. “The dream I thought I had of you, up until you foolishly returned.” Emma glared at him flatly as he went on, “I saw…”

“Yourself,” finished Emma impatiently. “Yeah. You punched yourself.” At his very perplexed expression, she went on, “I told him—you—it was a bad idea. So, blame yourself.” He blinked in utter confusion. But, at least, he seemed to believe her story. “Look,” said Emma, “we were on our way back to the future when some huge guys kidnapped him because they said he stole something and he needed to ‘pay for it’.” she finished in a bad facsimile of Killian’s abductor’s voice. Her eyes burning into Hook’s, she said, “What did you steal? Who are they and where did they take him?”

“You’re telling me,” said Hook slowly, “that there is a future version of me out here?”

“Yes,” said Emma through gritted teeth. “Now what did you—“

“Tell me, love,” said Hook casually enough, though the coldness in his words was back. “What is my future?”

“I can’t tell you that,” she said exasperatedly. “Already I need to get you a Forgetting Potion to make sure you get to that future.”

He stared at her for a long moment, a million things happening behind guarded eyes. But finally, his brow lifted a fraction. “And I’m just supposed to believe this?" 

Emma groaned. “What proof do you want?” she said impatiently. “Your father abandoned you and Liam; you used to be in the Royal Navy; you became a pirate after what happened to Liam in Neverland; you’re currently on a suicidal mission to kill Rumplestiltskin for taking your hand and Mila—“

“Stop!” 

Emma froze, having been angrily ticking off the trivia on her fingers, to see Hook’s eyes with more emotion than she’s seen from this version of him yet. 

“How do you know all that?” he breathed. For once, his voice lost Hook’s edge, and he sounded like Killian. The danger evaporated from him in seconds, replaced with something almost... lost. “It’s—it's been centuries since—"

“You told me.” said Emma simply. 

“I… told you,” repeated Hook flatly, words rolling off his tongue like something foreign. The edge in his voice swiftly returned as he demanded angrily, “And why the bloody hell would I do that?” 

“How should I know?” snapped Emma, her anxiety getting to her and sharpening her own tone.

He rose to his feet, and Emma did not like the feeling that he was attempting to use his height over hers to intimidate her. He leveled a look at her, with something different in his eyes, something dangerous in a new way. “Tell me one thing, lass," he began, voice casual-sounding, but underlined with something that sent a shiver down her spine, "and maybe I help you.”

“Why wouldn’t you help me?” exclaimed Emma, standing her ground. “You’d be helping you!”

“That remains to be seen.” He stepped toward her, and damn it he didn’t even need the hook to be imposing. “Tell me, lass.” Another step, and Emma felt her back hit the wall, not even realizing she’d been retreating. His gaze bored into hers. “Do I get my revenge?”

Emma swallowed, suddenly feeling a familiar sense of dread as to when the past version of Rumplestiltskin had asked about whether or not he found Neal.

When the silence spread a little too long, she whispered, “Hook—”

“Do I, or not?” he demanded, voice clipped. Cold.

Dangerous.

Emma felt paralyzed.

The Hook—the Killian —standing before her was completely hellbent on getting his revenge. He’s been at it for centuries, and the anger and pain in his eyes overpowered the blue in them, so much so it was hard to remember that Killian and Hook were the same person.

And here, Hook was his vengeance right now.

There was hardly a spark of him.

If she told him the truth, that he not only doesn’t kill his crocodile, but chooses to live peacefully in the same town as the monster? Gives up not only his quest for vengeance, but turns into a hero?

And worse yet, that he lets go of Milah?

For her?

From the amount of anger she’s eliciting from him right now, she doubted he’d be happy to know that information in particular.

So, she decided to tell him the truth.

Or…

Part of it.

“No,” she said finally, watching his brow shift dangerously. “Not yet.”

He searched her eyes, his face like stone. “Not yet?” he repeated, voice low, almost threatening.

Emma swallowed the fear slipping down her spine, hoping she was still as good of a liar as she once was. “Not yet,” she confirmed, which, still, wasn’t a complete lie. She took a breath, holding his gaze, preparing herself. 

And she lied.

“I’m helping you get your revenge in the future,” she said smoothly. “The Dark One is currently living in a realm without magic. He’s vulnerable. I’m helping you get there.” She swallowed, her entire body rigid. Hook was pin-silent as Emma finished, “We accidentally got sent to the past on our way there. That’s why I need you to help me. If you don’t, you will never get your revenge.”

Emma fell quiet, holding her head high, clinging onto confidence she didn’t feel in the slightest.

Killian could read her like an open book.

If this version of him was as perceptive as he comes to be…

If he found her lying to him…

Again …

Emma tried to ignore the fear prickling in her veins.

He held her gaze, pinning her to the spot with his eyes alone. Watching her eyes carefully, his narrowed. 

Finally, he said, “Why are you helping me?”

Emma tried not to flinch at the obvious distaste in his voice. She thought fast, and found something that held nothing but truth. “Because,” she said, “you did me a favor. I’m repaying a debt.”

His brow lifted. “Quite the debt.”

Emma felt something stir in her chest, thinking of all that Killian has done for her. “It was quite the favor,” she said quietly.

His brows kneaded with question, like he wasn’t sure why he would bother to do her a favor.

Emma was quickly becoming irritated with this version of Hook.

“How are you helping me?” he asked then, gaze boring into hers, almost as if he was trying to poke holes into her story to see if it would leak. “Why do I need you?”

It was spoken so carelessly.

And it hurt.

Emma was surprised at the sudden burn behind her eyes.

She’d brushed off Killian’s affections, his obvious devotion to her, more times than she could count. 

And here he was, looking at her like he couldn’t have cared about her less.

How could she have wasted all the time she had with him?

Getting him back now was the longest of long shots, for—and it made sharp fear race down her spine— he could already be dead.

Blinking away the emotion, Emma huffed out a breath, trying not to appear as hurt by his words as she was. “I’ve got Light Magic,” she snapped, making surprise lift his brow. “You’re trying to kill the Dark One. Do the math.”

He stared at her for a long moment, eyes narrowed, danger rolling off him in waves.

Finally, he spoke.

“I help you, and, him,” he muttered, uneasily over what to call his future self, “get back to your time,” he said slowly, “and then I will get what I want most?”

Emma felt the ghost of a smile touch her lips, for she didn’t have to lie for this one. “Yes.” 

He most definitely will. 

-.-.-.-. TBC

@belovedcreation-kitr-headcanon @cssecretsanta2020 @belovedcreation

[britishchick09]

this is as far as i was able to get in my zoho jrose site!

[yardsards]

clint mcelroy creating a dnd character: oh yeah, this bad boy can fit so much simple zest for life in him