#it’s about. both of them being more appealing to her when they’re channeling each other

[romantichopelessly]

There’s something so personal about the number of times The Raven Boys aligns Gansey’s relationship with Adam to his relationship with Blue

[taughtdefense-a]

your apartment is filled to the brim with those you love. there’s laughter & conversations swirling throughout your home, music playing over the speakers in your apartment, & smiles all around. your friends & in-laws(!) are having a great time. you’re so happy & in love you feel like you could burst.

it’s been a little under an hour since you popped the big question to robby, tory, sam & miguel. miguel hasn’t been able to blink the tears out of his eyes, nor has he been able to hide the fact that he’s been staring at his engagement ring since you slipped it on his finger.

tory’s downright giddy, constantly peppering her partners in little kisses at every opportunity, whenever she walks by. she’s currently holding sam’s hand, chatting with moon, scarlett, cosima, betty, veronica, cheryl, aisha, emma & yasmine. the girls haven’t been able to stop fawning over tory’s & sam’s engagement rings, or the baby pictures of icarus & emma’s two-month-olds - twins. your fiancé’s & fiancée’s ( you get a rush of pure elation just calling them your fiancés & fiancées ) are always breathtakingly beautiful, but right now they seem to glow with pure, unfiltered happiness. they love you, & you love them equally with every single cell in your body. you’re so incredibly relieved all four of them said yes when you’d asked them to marry you. you were terrified that moving from the ❛ boyfriends & girlfriends ❜ to ❛ fiancés & fiancées ❜ milestone might have been too quick, & they’d have said no. but they didn’t. & now you’re engaged to the loves of your simultaneous lives.

god. you love them so much.

you’d been incredibly, understandably nervous when asking your partners’ parents for their blessing to marry their children. but you’d never been MORE SURE of something in your life. making the rings had been the easier part… by a landslide, despite the countless designs you’d went through. everything had to be perfect.

(it was. everything IS perfect.)

& now here you are - celebrating, surrounded by your friends & loved ones in your apartment. you’re engaged to tory, miguel, sam & robby! it feels like a dream come true.

mrs. larusso is standing diligently in front of the stove, shooing both demetri & anthony away before they can sneakily grab a taste of the buffalo chicken dip you’d made, which is still too hot to eat right now. you’d tried to do some more cooking, on top of everything you’d already prepared - everything ranging from dinner foods like ziti, to visually appealing, labor-intensive appetizers that are only seen on the food network channel ( but are no less delicious! ), to various spreads of charcuterie boards, to classic desserts. that they’re in your apartment to celebrate the occasion of you becoming engaged, it made sense to you to prepare everything. as soon as she saw you put the buffalo chicken dip into the oven, amanda’d been adamant in you taking the night off, in letting her take over watching the food. your apartment smells downright heavenly.

❝ ethan, if you don’t go hang out with your friends & your newly betrotheds right this instant, i will wack you upside the head with this spatula. ❞ she’d threatened you, waving the spatula around for emphasis. you’d quickly nodded & did as she requested, moving out of the open-concept kitchen to go hang out with your friends. you’d instinctively moved over to ciro on the couch, where he, icarus, rhydian, shadow & charlie are talking politely with each other. rare are the opportunities for all of the eldritch beings ( & one immortal man - icarus ) to be in the same room as each other, but it’s nice. they’re all friendly with each other. ciro had been happy for you, truly. he wasn’t surprised in the slightest — exactly none of your eldritch friends were. they all know how you feel about them. after talking with them for a few minutes, you’d moved over to chat with mr. larusso & johnny, who are both thrilled. ( you called johnny ‘dad’, one time, just to test it out & gauge his reaction. johnny started crying tears of joy, then told charlie to fuck off when he teased him about it ). mr. larusso’s drinking a glass of fancy champagne, his first of the night, but johnny opted to have a glass of water. he’s not drinking ( strictly only water & soda ), & is stone-cold sober despite the celebration & a handful of others drinking alcohol, which you commend him for.

after checking on them & confirming they’re both having a good time, you instinctively seek out @taughtpain, finding him almost immediately. all of your cells feel in-tune with every breath he takes, it’s instinct to be near him. hawk is chatting with him. he pretends not to notice you as you approach, continuing to converse with robby, so you can successfully sneak up behind robby, wrapping your arms tightly around his waist, pulling him into you. you just want to be as close to him as possible. you rest your chin on his shoulder. hawk smirks slightly, but you ignore it for the moment.

❝ look at you, my love! ❞ you murmur to robby with a warm, overjoyed laugh. hawk rolls his eyes slightly, only acting like he’s annoyed. his smile can’t hide the genuine happiness he feels for his best friends. your gaze softens, brown eyes filling with every single modicum of endless, undying love your entire being ( eldritch form & vessel alike ) holds for robby keene. ❝ glowing like a solar fire. you’re something special, robby. ❞ you recite the line from treasure planet perfectly, then finish it off with a passionate, gentle kiss, not wanting to pull away from your fiancé.

[helenekuragina]

opinions on every helene ship (/hj) and also nikolai/dolokhov and marynat :)

don't test me we both know i have a strong opinion on every single one of her ships... lemme see.

hélène/natasha: i used to be VERY into them but i’ve definitely mellowed. they have lost potential for sure and i think they would have a fascinating dynamic had hélène survived and had a redemption arc, but, y’know! as it is, i have a million thoughts about them and their roles in each other’s lives and in relation to the story

hélène/dolokhov: notoriously not my thing :/ spectacular showing of comphet on all sides. i am still firmly of the belief that the affair was blown out of proportion and it was like... a dumb little crush and marital boredom on hélène’s part and dolokhov being a bastard man

hélène/boris: my favorite of the “canon” hélène relationships. i LOVE the tragedy of it, of feeling like they could’ve had a chance had they hadn’t respectively been raised the way they were. they could’ve been such a power couple too but nope! they’re always going to be too busy wanting something More to love each other and isn’t that so sad

hélène/marya dmitrievna: if i never have to see content for this ship again it’d still be too much, sorry :/ sometimes it’s not sexual tension, sometimes it’s just two women with a 30 year age gap who genuinely do not like each other. another thing to blame dave malloy for

hélène/vera: now for a ship that i made up in my head >:) genuinely i think they would have a wonderful dynamic. enough in common for them to be able to bond, enough different to make it interesting. both of them suffer from a criminal lack of understanding from others and i think they could fix that for the other

hélène/bourienne: i made this one up too i just think it would be fun. we have to stop pretending that bourienne isn’t natasha but french and poor. writing my au where hélène seduces bourienne away from the bolkonsky family and makes her HER companion as we speak

nikolai/dolokhov: I’M NGL I LIKE THIS ONE... i haven’t given it much thought since i’m not all that invested in either of them as characters but i definitely see it and also gives such an edge to the gambling scene... fellas is it gay to supposedly be fighting over a girl but channeling it through high stakes gambling and looking into each others eyes

marya/natasha: i really came around to this one! i didn’t see the appeal before but man i definitely get it now! again, not super strong opinions since i’m not as invested in either of them, but! it’s definitely cute and makes sense. and why did natasha settle for pierre after andrei’s death when marya was literally right there

[digitalmedia-curation]

Stereotypes and Video Games

When a kid goes to the store to buy a toy or video game, it is a common occurrence for them to choose a game based on what fits into the current stereotype regarding gender. To be more specific, boys often consciously steer away from games that appear feminine or girly, not because they personally think that it would be a bad game but because they typically view games or objects depicting the opposite sex to be simply untouchable. People like those as kids often grow up to be those who often discriminate and harass others for transitioning or conducting activities that are feminine if they are male or masculine if they're female. In the video gaming community, most commonly, boys or men are often looked down upon or insulted for playing video games that are “made for girls”. It’s just like how a group of kids would make fun of a boy for playing with dolls.  Most likely, every boy has had that or a similar experience growing up, where they have had experience personally or are just widely aware of that predicament from knowing their ‘friends’. It’s an experience where they are looking at all of the games on display in the store and instantly try to avoid looking at the ones in a bright pink and white casing since they knew the person next to them would judge them for even picking it up. Although the main concept of discrimination does affect both ways, for females it is a bit different. For one, girls are not seen as gamers to begin with. Society has had a well-known stereotype that girls are bad at gaming for some reason. They apparently crack under the pressure of the level difficulty and make careless mistakes that could irritate any gamer, at least on paper. That alone makes people less inclined to want to play video games with females, since they automatically assume that they’re a trash gamer. Though more recently society has come to acknowledge that there are good female gamers, so that little assumption began to wane bit by bit, only to be replaced with another form of discrimination that sets female gamers apart from the males. That alone being the sexual appeal they intentionally or unintentionally give off. When female gamers set up their streams or videos, some tend to wear questionable clothes or act sultry to gain the audience’s appeal and gain more attention that will benefit their channel in the long run. The downside being that female gamers would not be taken as seriously by their peers and would often be reduced to eye candy for just their looks, similar to how female characters are portrayed as objects of sexualization in games. I once watched a lot of videos of a few men playing a first person shooting game called CS:GO, and they would often joke around and have fun with each other along with whatever random people they end up playing with. Without fail, any female gamer that shows up in their voice chat would often set them off or gain their attention, treating her as some kind of rare species while also being very sexual with their jokes and bits. Overall, it seems like both sides get treated differently for playing a type of game that goes against the typical norms of their gender. Females get sexualized and put on a sort of pedestal while men get ostracized and become a subject of torment and teasing. This kind of treatment stems from how people often treat things that are labeled as ‘different’ harshly, regardless of whether or not the difference itself actually matters. It is only when society can accept the differences in others and would try to teach the younger generations on how to do so that we can stop the discrimination and allow people to simply play whatever they want. Buying a game shouldn’t be about what other people won’t judge you for but what you genuinely think you would enjoy playing. Not only that, but people should not try to harass or sexualize female gamers just because they aren’t that common or fulfill a sort of fetish or desire males tend to have.

[luffles424]

Tips & Teases

☼ Pairing: Seokjin x reader

☼ Genre: fluff, smut, pwp (with some plot), skating carhop!reader, diner cook!Seokjin, coworkers 2 lovers

☼ Count: 13.1K

☼ Warnings: 18+, teasing, dom!Seokjin, brat!reader, some possessiveness, big dick!Seokjin, manhandling, mirror sex (sort of, it’s actually a window, but it’s still a reflection), semi public sex, clothed sex, dirty talk, degradation (lots of use of the word slut), spanking, spitting, assplay, pussy spanking, fingering, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, hair pulling, ass worship, ass eating, orgasm denial, oral (f receiving), squirting, choking, unprotected, creampie, aftercare

☼ Summary: Jimin’s annual Halloween costume party presents you the perfect excuse to tease Seokjin, using the party as an excuse to wear flirty costumes to work to try to provoke a response in the man. Are you really prepared for what happens when he snaps?

☼ a/n: This one got a little bit away from me lmao But I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think! My ask box is always open ~ 💙💙💙💙

☼ Written for @btsholidaybingo​​​​ to fill the square costume party

“What the fuck are you wearing?”

You glance up at the exclamation, seeing Seokjin leaning against the counter in the pass through, brows furrowed as he takes in your seated form. You hide your smirk by ducking your head to finish tying your skates. It’s not fully the reaction you were hoping for but you’re hoping that’ll change once you stand up and he sees it fully. You thought long and hard on what you were going to wear. You have backups, but you decided to start easy on him. But you were fully prepared to escalate. 

Skates tied, you push yourself up and give a little spin to fully show off your outfit. And to maybe let the already fairly short skirt flair and rise a little higher as you move. You come to a stop facing Seokjin once more, innocent smile tugging your lips as your toe stop presses into the ground to keep you in place. You smooth down the skirt, though the layers of tulle keep it from laying completely flat.  

Seokjin’s eyes drag over your form and you wait with baited breath for his reaction. This was all part of your plan to tease and fluster him. “Again, what the fuck are you wearing?”

You pout. That’s still not what you were expecting, though you think you can just make out the tips of his ears turning red. You put a hand on your hip. “It’s October.”

His head tilts. “Yeah and Halloween isn’t for another two weeks. It doesn’t explain this getup.”

You scoff. “Halloween is all month, first of all. And Jimin’s costume party is coming up and I couldn’t decide on what to wear so I decided to try them out at work first.” You bat your lashes at him, forcing down a smirk. “Does that mean you don’t like it?”

His mouth opens then snaps closed as his cheeks dusted with pink. “There’s no way that Namjoon approved that,” he deflects. Interesting.

You look down at the costume. It’s a fairly generic ‘sexy’ waitress costume. Red with yellow stripes that matches the overall aesthetic of your little drive in diner. The skirt hits above midthigh, puffed out by tulle, so the skirt bounces a little more with each movement along with a small ruffled apron with a pocket that isn’t actually usable. The buttons stop at the right point to give a more than ample display of cleavage. And you’ve paired the whole thing with a set of thigh high socks, leaving only a tantalizing glimpse of your thighs on display. 

You look back up and quirk an eyebrow, smirking. “Joonie was with me when I bought it.”

A ding sounds and you both turn to look at the wall where the board for the all parking spots sits, a light glowing beside the number 12. You swipe one of the order pads and a pen from the counter and move to the door to outside. You give him a wink before nudging the door open with your hip and skating out to the waiting car. 

Seokjin scowls after you and then pulls out his phone, dialing Namjoon’s number. 

Namjoon picks up after a few rings. “Is someone dying or is the building on fire?”

Seokjin frowns, watching as he watches you laugh as you speak with the people in the car. “What?”

“Is someone dying or is the building on fire?”

“I… well no-”

“Then why are you calling me? Jin, it’s my only day off and I know you’re at Omelas right now, so this is clearly a work related call.” Namjoon sighs. He sounds a little tired and Seokjin suddenly worries that he woke him up even though it’s 4 in the afternoon. The manager works far too much for his own good.

“Did you really tell Y/n she could wear a waitress costume to work?”

There’s a pause and then Namjoon chuckles. “Wow she really wore it? Man, her tips are going to be great today.”

Seokjin’s about to respond when he catches sight of you leaning over to speak to another car, back facing him, and the action causes your skirt to rise further up your thighs. He swallows and jerks his gaze away, glaring at the grill and cursing that it’s slow and he has nothing to keep him busy right now. He needs a distraction to keep from just watching you longer. 

Namjoon continues when Seokjin remains silent. “Yes, I said she could wear it. It’s the season and I’m sure it’ll appeal to customers to see them skating in costume and it’ll boost business. Hm, I should probably make up some rules cause I worry what Jimin will wear,” he finishes, seeming to be speaking more to himself. 

“I think it’s dumb.” Seokjin mutters petulantly. Dumb is definitely not how he’d truly describe it. It’s more frustrating, maddening, distracting. He doesn’t know how he’s supposed to focus on work when you’re flitting around looking like that. Maybe he can switch future shifts so he doesn’t have to work the same time as you. 

Namjoon snorts. “Noted. Is that all?”

Seokjin mutters a yes and Namjoon hangs up with a warning to call again only if there’s an emergency. His hand drops back to his side in defeat. Namjoon was the only one who could save him and he apparently is more worried about Jimin’s costume than yours. He stares at the grill, he had really hoped that Namjoon would back him up. He’s not ready for this shift. Maybe he can call Taehyung or Yoongi to come cover and he can fake being sick or something.

The door opens and he looks up, deflating slightly when he sees that it’s just Jungkook, who immediately flashes him a sheepish smile.

“You’re late,” he snaps. He knows he’s not really mad at Jungkook. They’re all guilty of being a little late, but he has nowhere else to channel the feelings simmering just under his skin.

Jungkook grins and tosses his bag into the cubby behind the counter along with his boots before moving back around to sit to put his skates on. “I’m not that late. Besides,” he glances out the glass front doors to where a group of guys have sat at one of the picnic tables under the awning. You stand with a hip cocked, giggling at something one of them has said. “Seems like Y/n’s got everything handled right now.”

“Just get to work before I tell Namjoon you were late again.”

Jungkook stands, shit-eating grin firmly in place as he glances out the window pointedly. “Pretty sure you wouldn’t do that.” And before Seokjin can respond, he skates out the door to see who you want him to take.

Seokjin doesn’t know how he’s going to survive this shift. 

The next time that Seokjin works a shift with you, he encounters Jimin first. A very shirtless Jimin who’s back is to him when he enters the building. 

“Jimin, what the fuck?”

Jimin turns and grins, quickly moving around the counter so Seokjin can see the full extent of his costume. Or more accurately, his lack of clothing. Because the only thing on Jimin right now that counts as clothing is the tight pair of black shorts that barely even really cover his thick thighs. The only other things on him are a pair of suspenders, a green tie, and two black x’s that cover his nipples. 

Seokjin blinks. “What the fuck are you even supposed to be?”

Jimin adjusts the thick black glasses on his face with a grin. “Class president,” he states proudly. 

Seokjin scoffs. “What fucking class president looks like that?”

Jimin pouts. “Well I was class president. So me.”

Seokjin shakes his head. “Does Namjoon know you’re wearing this? There’s no way he allowed this.”

 “We compromised.”

Seokjin lifts a brow, looking over Jimin’s “costume” once more. “Where’s the compromise?”

He points proudly to the pasties. “These are. And I have a jacket for when the sun goes down and it gets colder.” He turns and grabs the two drinks he had been working on and moves towards the door. “Isn’t Y/n’s costume idea great?” he adds before exiting the building. He also very much does not like your costume idea. He can already feel his sanity fraying with just the thought of working another shift with you in that little waitress getup. 

“That’s… not a compromise.” Seokjin says weakly as he turns to put his bag away, knowing that even if Jimin did hear it, he wasn’t going to respond. 

However you happen to enter and catch what he said and you giggle. “You don’t want to know about the rest of the compromise, Jinnie.”

He’s about to respond; say that he can certainly imagine what the compromise was because Jimin has never been shy about telling everyone how he managed to talk Namjoon into very not Namjoon situations. His words die in his throat though when he catches sight of you as you begin to get some drinks. Nothing about last time prepared him for this. Because you’re not wearing the waitress costume tonight. Oh no, apparently that would have been too simple. You have a different costume on. 

You have thigh high socks on, though these are thicker than the other ones you had worn. There’s a lot more thigh on display as well thanks to the short, white athletic shorts you’re wearing, paired with a cropped white jersey emblazoned with ‘Tune Squad.’ And finishing off the look is a pair of tan and white bunny ears perched on your head and what he discovers when you turn to grab something and much to his horror, is the matching fluffy tail settled right on top of the swell of your ass. 

When you turn back, he has to quickly jerk his gaze away from staring at your ass longer. There’s a knowing smirk when his eyes finally meet yours, like you knew what putting the tail on would do.

Seokjin clears his throat. “And what are you supposed to be?”

You gasp in mock horror, hands coming up to rest over your heart like he’s physically hurt you. “You can’t be serious!” When he doesn’t say anything else, you shake your head in disappointment. “Space Jam is a classic and you’re a heathen for not recognizing Lola Bunny. Shame on you,” you tut. You gather your drinks on a tray and move towards the door, pausing as your back presses against the glass to cast Seokjin an appraising look. “Suppose I’ll have to look for a Bugs Bunny then, hm?” 

And with a wink, you’re nudging the door open and skating out to a table full of guys and Seokjin bristles at the way some of them blatantly stare at your ass. His mind belatedly catches on your parting words and he wonders what you meant. Was it directed at him? Did you want him to be your Bugs? He doubts that, he can’t recall a moment of you ever expressing interest in him as anything more than a friend. Maybe you were making a joke about how you needed someone else to help your costume be more recognizable. Though Seokjin knew what your costume was when he saw it. He just didn’t know what else to say without saying something incriminating.

A snicker has his head whipping around to see Taehyung standing over the grill, eyes trained on the food in front of him.

“And what do you find so funny?” Seokjin asks, tugging his apron off the hook on the wall to put on. 

“You,” he answers simply, flipping one of the burgers in front of him.

Seokjin makes a face. “I don’t recall making a joke.”

Taehyung looks up at him with a boxy grin. “Oh, no. Your jokes aren’t funny. But the way her ass made you so stupid that you forgot a movie is hilarious. I know for a fact that you’ve seen it at least once because we’ve watched it together.”

Seokjin feels his cheeks heat. Taehyung’s not wrong. He probably would’ve recognized the costume as Lola a lot faster if he hadn’t been almost immediately faced with your ass stretching the fabric and the way the cottontail perched just above it in a way that could only draw you to stare. He scowls, he can’t let Taehyung know he’s right. They all tease him enough as is, this would just be one more thing to add to the pile. He moves over to the younger man and tugs the spatula from his hand.

“Aren’t you supposed to be off work now? Go enjoy your freedom.”

Taehyung only takes a few steps away, perching on the stool they keep behind the counter with a smug look. 

Seokjin sighs. “What?”

He gestures to the food before Seokjin. “That’s my food.”

Seokjin blinks for a moment before groaning. He really played himself here. Now he has no choice but to finish Taehyung’s food.

Seokjin’s positive that he’s prepared for the next time he sees you. He knows to expect something different. And honestly, nothing could be worse than those shorts. Jungkook is there first and Seokjin groans when he sees him. 

“She got to you too?” He whines, looking over the younger man. 

At least his shorts are a more acceptable length than Jimin’s were. And he’s wearing an actual shirt. Really the only thing that signifies that he’s wearing a costume is the pair of bunny ears on his head. Actually, Seokjin’s positive that they’re the ones you were wearing for your Lola Bunny costume. Which confirms that you’re going to be wearing something else. But it’s fine. Seokjin can handle it. 

Jungkook grins and glances out to where a table full of giggling girls sits. “I mean, she had a pretty good idea. The tips have been really good lately.”

“Don’t listen to his grumpy ass, Kookie. You make an adorable bun.” You grin, walking through the door. Seokjin’s eyes trail over your frame immediately, greedy to see what you’re wearing, but all you’ve got on is a thigh length trench coat. “He’s just jealous that no one gets to see his costume.”

Jungkook chuckles as he leaves and it takes Seokjin a moment to realize that he should respond. He frowns. “I’m not wearing a costume.”

Your mouth forms an ‘oh’ of exaggerated surprise, hand coming up to your chest. “You’re not?” 

Your gaze slowly drags over his form and Seokjin suddenly feels a little self conscious that he’s just in sweats and a white shirt. It’s not much, but no one really sees him in here so he just went for comfort today. The way your eyes linger where his apron is tied, accentuating his tiny waist before trailing up to where his biceps stretch his sleeves has the tips of his ears coloring red quickly. He wishes he had longer hair so that you couldn’t see them right now. Then your lips quirk up into a teasing grin.

“Could’ve fooled me. You’ve got the perfect Bob Belcher look going on here, Jinnie.”

Seokjin’s face twists. Bob Belcher? Seriously? That’s how you see him. He scowls, looking over your outfit. “And just what are you supposed to be? A flasher?”

You giggle at his statement, pulling something golden from your bag. A moment later, you’re placing it on your head and he realizes that it’s a short, 4 pointed, gold crown with 4 alternating blue and red gems that sits on a headband so that it stays in place. It looks so familiar but he can’t place why. 

You give him a wry smile. “No, of course not. I had to run to the store so I threw a coat on.”

He rolls his eyes. “Is your costume that-”

He cuts himself off as you slowly slip your jacket off, head tilted as you watch him closely. Now he realizes why the crown looked familiar. Because it’s Princess Peach’s crown. Because apparently you’ve decided to dress like every fantasy he had when he was young once he discovered the Mario games. 

The dress is much shorter than Peach’s is, your’s sits high on your thighs and dips low to show a generous amount of cleavage. You have thigh high white tights one that only accentuate the sliver of thigh that you have on display much the same way your waitress costume did. But this is somehow worse and Seokjin suddenly very much regrets wearing sweatpants today of all days. At least he’s got the apron on.

He turns back to the grill, but the image of you dressed like that will be burned into his brain forever. He might actually die. 

You giggle and he hears the sound of your skates as you move towards the door. “Just have to find a Mario. We’d be so cute together.” And with that you skate out.

Seokjin’s thrilled that it’s finally the day of the party and that it’s finally Halloween. It means he won’t have to deal with you in your costumes anymore. He honestly doesn’t think he can handle anything else after the Peach costume. Or even seeing the Peach costume again. He has no idea what you’ll be wearing tonight and he is torn on which he wants you to wear. 

Yoongi is manning the grill when Seokjin gets there because it’s a Friday so their shifts overlap for the dinner rush before Seokjin will close down for the night. And he saw Hoseok out taking care of a few customers, but he’s unsure if Hoseok was working the earlier shift or if he took Jimin’s shift so the younger man could set up for the party. He hopes it’s the latter, he worries who would come to replace him if he worked the earlier shift. 

He gives him a nod of acknowledgement before focusing again on the grill as Seokjin gets ready for his shift. He had seriously considered skipping the party later since he’s closing and it means he’d get there late. But it’s Jimin’s party and not only would the younger harass him until he came, he also knows it’ll go late into the evening and so his closing shift won’t affect anything. But the late time does mean that he decided to wear his costume to work, well one of them. He has a second one in his car, a stupid idea just in case you happened to wear Peach again. He knows it’s fairly unlikely, but he supposes that the Mario costume sitting on the car seat is at least a little comforting. Maybe an easy way for him to possibly ask you out. Or just embarrass himself. At least it’ll be at a party and he can drink himself silly when he gets rejected. 

But for now, he’s content with his costume. It at least won’t get a snarky comment from you comparing him to Bob Belcher. Because he actually put a little thought into this costume and he’s pretty proud that he managed to pull together such a good Geralt costume. His hair currently being bleach blond also helped give him the idea. The wig for proper accuracy and sword are in his car, they seemed a little impractical to work in, but the rest of the costume was pretty comfortable. The higher waisted pants are different but he thinks they’re pretty flattering and form fitting and the shirt is just billowy enough to give the illusion that he’s a little buffer than he really is. 

The most telling part of the costume is the wolf head medallion hung around his neck. Which he hopes people recognize for what it is and don’t just think he’s wearing some fancy, period style clothes. Plus wearing it now meant that he didn’t have to change either at work while trying to close or show up to the party and change there. And he’s incredibly thankful that Jungkook, nerd that he is, not only had a sword for him to borrow, but actually had a replica specifically of Geralt’s sword. 

Seokjin tugs his apron from the rack, back to the door when he hears it open. He hears Yoongi let out a low whistle. 

“I don’t know who’s attention you’re trying to catch, but consider it caught.” 

Seokjin turns, curious as to who and what Yoongi is talking about and he feels his breath catch in his throat. Because apparently fate is cruel and has decided that you of course would pick up Jimin’s shift and would be the one who closes with him. He licks his lips as his gaze slowly trails over you. 

He doesn’t even know what to take in first. Your black dress is low cut and short, your legs covered in lacy floral tights. But the most distracting part is the glittering body cage that sits over your dress. It cages your breasts in and accentuates them even more than the dress, extended up your chest to form a collar around your throat. Thinner strips cover your shoulders and upper arms, forming a parody of sleeves. The strands curve around your hips, the ends coming together to form a point that just touches the hem of the dress. 

A medallion hangs at your throat, the circular bronze marked with a starburst. You grin at Yoongi as you slip a lace mask on that sits delicately over your eyes. He realizes that you’re dressed as Yennifer. God and not just any outfit, a much skimpier version of the outfit from the orgy scene of all scenes. How is he supposed to survive this shift now?

There’s no way that you knew what he was wearing. This just has to be all a weird coincidence. A very very weird coincidence that has rendered him completely speechless. You glance at him with the ghost of a smile on your lips as you take a seat to swap your ankle boots out for your skates. He gets another brief glance before you’re skating out to join Hoseok outside.

“You’ve got it bad, dude.”

Seokjin jerks at the words, tearing his gaze from your ass to glare at Yoongi. “What are you talking about?”

Yoongi gives him a flat look. “Come on, everyone can see your massive crush on her.” Seokjin shoots a worried glance to where you stand talking to a car and Yoongi gives a chuckle and shake of his head. “Okay, maybe everyone but her. But dude, come on. How long are you going to pine for? Just go for it already.”

“But-”

“There is no but here dude. It wouldn’t make work awkward and it’s very clearly not one-sided. Just ask her.” 

Seokjin huffs. He wants to believe Yoongi, he really does. But he worries that you only flirt with him to see his ears turn red and to tease him. You flirt with the others too and it’s hard to tell if you are just flirty in a friendly way or if you truly want more. And he’d hate to make you uncomfortable at work by making a move on you. He turns and chooses instead to ignore Yoongi for the remainder of their shared shift. It’ll get busy anyway so it’s not like he’ll have to try too hard to avoid any further conversation on the topic of you. Something Seokjin would very much like to keep out of his mind given if he thinks about you for too long, it’s going to go straight to your outfit and he doesn’t really need to pop another boner at work while trying to cook. 

Seokjin gets through almost his entire shift with his sanity intact. There’s 30 minutes until close and there’s only one table here. They seem interested in only getting some drinks, so Seokjin takes the opportunity to slip his apron off and begins cleaning up and getting some of the closing duties out of the way so that he can get out of here sooner and go get very drunk at Jimin’s party and try to pretend that he didn’t nearly see your ass tonight when you bent over in front of him earlier. There was a flash of skin from beneath your skirt and Seokjin had to go spend a few minutes in the freezer. When he came out you looked far too amused.

Seokjin glances out the window, realizing that you haven’t been back inside for a little while and worrying that maybe something happened. But all he sees is you chatting with a table of guys. He’s about to get back to cleaning when one of the guys reaches out to run his fingers down your arm. There’s a coy smile on your face and Seokjin clenches his jaw. He glances at the clock. 5 minutes. 

He debates just kicking them out now. It’s not like Namjoon would fire him for it. He doubts they would even bother complaining beyond making a fuss before they leave. But then your hand comes up to touch his shoulder, just for a moment, and Seokjin’s resolve snaps. He snatches their receipt from the counter where you left it and stalks out of the building. 

You glance up at the sound of the door, smiling a little when you see Seokjin exiting. You and the group of guys startle slightly when he slams his hand onto the table, revealing the bill when he pulls away. 

“We’re closed,” he snarls, grabbing you and directing you back inside. 

You stumble slightly, skates leaving you slightly off balance for the sudden movement but you manage to steady yourself by grabbing Seokjin’s bicep with your free hand and allow him to pull you along inside. He leaves you at the counter as he stomps to the back, muttering something under his breath. You look back outside, seeing the guys exchanging confused looks but they place some money on the table and shuffle off, likely not wanting to see what else Seokjin does when he gets angry. 

You squirm slightly, you’ve never seen him so angry, it’s incredibly hot. Especially with him dressed as Geralt tonight. You wait patiently, watching as the outside lights are shut off and then most of the inside ones as well, casting the kitchen in a faint blue glow from the auxiliary lights that remain on no matter what. 

A moment later Seokjin returns, face set in a harsh look of displeasure. You fight down a grin at pushing him far enough to finally get a reaction. He pauses in front of you, glancing behind you briefly, likely to check that the men have actually left. There’s a soft hum from him that makes your lips twitch up in a small smile and when he catches sight of it, his eyes darken. 

“Something amusing to you, sweetheart?” His cold tone sends a shiver down your spine. 

You blink up at him with faux innocence. “Nothing at all, Jinnie.”

His gaze trails slowly over your face and then he’s reaching and removing the delicate lace mask from your face and tossing it to the counter behind you. 

“I don’t think you’re being honest with me,” he murmurs. He leans forward and your breath catches in your throat, thinking he’s going to kiss you, but he bypasses your mouth, lips brushing your ear as he continues to speak. “I think you did this on purpose and you find it very amusing.”

Your body tingles at his tone, at the way he laces a threat into the seemingly innocuous words. He leans back and you only get a second to admire his smirk before he’s spinning you around and pushing your upper half down against the counter. It takes you a second to get your feet under you with the skates hindering you slightly, but you manage to get yourself stabilized and balanced on your toe stops. 

You plant your hands on the counter to keep stable and glance over your shoulder, only to have your face roughly turned forward once more towards the window. It’s dark out and you know it would be hard to see into the dim windows from the street, but if anyone happens to walk closer, they’d be able to see everything. The thought sends a thrill through you. A hand lands on your ass, cushioned by your dress, but the sudden impact still draws a gasp from your lips. 

“I think,” Jin pauses, fingers trailing lightly across the curve of your ass, “that you have planned all of this with just me in mind, hm?” You don’t know whether he actually wants you to respond or not, but he continues before you can voice anything. “I think someone has been a very bad girl,” the hand on your ass stops and his fingers dig into the flesh harshly. “And that someone needs to be punished,” he finishes with a hiss. 

His hand lands another smack on your ass, a little harder this time, and you feel the slight sting heat your skin. You feel your panties dampen and you squirm as well as you can given the way you have to hold your feet still lest you slip. His hands grope at your cheeks before they slide down enough for him to hook his thumbs under the fabric and he tugs the hem of your dress up and over your ass. 

The hands pause then tighten around the fabric of your dress and you hear him swear under his breath at the sight of your ass clad in black lacy panties, ones that closely resemble your mask, and framed by the lace garter straps of your tights. 

“Fuck… You really did plan this all out…” His hand leaves you again before coming down with a resounding smack, no longer padded by your dress and your thin panties do little to cushion the blow. A moan slips from your lips and Seokjin lets out a dark chuckle. “Oh, are you enjoying your punishment? Well, we’ll just have to fix that, hm?”

He spanks you again, harder this time and you whimper. He hums in approval, hand smoothing over the smarting skin for a moment before he spanks the other cheek just as hard. Your toes curl in your skates at the pleasure-pain that shoots through you. 

Seokjin tsks. “Hm, this just won’t do.” He mutters, seemingly more to himself because you have no idea what he could be thinking until his hand grabs the back of your panties, gathering a fistful of the fabric. It elastic pulls tight across your hips, digging into the skin to the point of discomfort. You whine, trying to push your hips up to relieve the sting but Seokjin just moves with, keeping his grip tight. Then he’s pulling harder, the elastic digging painfully into your skin followed by the sound of seams ripping. A final tug and the fabric tears completely, leaving your ass and pussy bear to Seokjin’s gaze. 

A shudder ripples through you at the display. You can’t believe he just ripped your panties off. You can’t believe how much the action turns you on too. 

A pleased noise rumbles in his chest as the scrap of lace is slipped into his pocket. “That’s much better.”

His hands are back on your ass, no barrier to keep you from feeling the warmth from his palms and the slightly roughened fingertips as they skim across your skin. You push into the touch, greedy for more of the soothing strokes. He chuckles, fingers slipping beneath the garter straps. He tugs them away from your skin before releasing them to let them snap against your skin. 

“Seokjin-” you start, only to be quickly cut off by a sharp smack. 

“Bad girls don’t get to speak unless spoken too, slut.”

You swallow, pussy clenching at his tone. Of all the things you imagined, you never quite imagined something like this. His hand smooths across your skin for a moment before delivering another spank. 

“How many more do you think you deserve, slut?” he muses, hand remaining where it landed with his last smack. 

“I-”

Another smack. “That was rhetorical. I don’t actually take the opinions of sluts.” His hand rubs at your warmed skin for a moment in thought. “I think 20 sounds fair. For all your little stunts with those costumes. For flirting with other guys where I can see. For teasing.” He pauses for a moment and when he speaks again, the harsh edge is gone. “Green means continue, yellow for slow down, and red I stop. Okay?”

It takes you a second to realize what he’s said and then you’re quickly nodding, excitement mounting at what could possibly be to come.

“I need words, princess,” he murmurs, voice softer than it has been since he brought you inside and it makes you melt a little. 

“Yes, I understand.”

“That’s the first time you’ve been good all night, sweetheart.” You can hear the smirk in his voice and it makes you clench at the mean implications that come with such a simple statement. “But now let’s see if you can keep your good girl streak going while you get punished.” Both hands leave you and you want to turn around and look at him, see what he’s doing, but you feel it will only prompt further punishment. “I want you to count. And if you miss one, then we start all over again, got it?”

You’re nodding before he even finishes speaking, trying your best to keep from squirming. “Yes, sir.”

He chuckles. “Such a good girl now,” he coos.

And then his hand is coming down on your ass, softer than his previous smacks and the gentleness makes you gasp. He pauses and waits and you belatedly let a 'one' slip from your lips. He hums in approval and delivers a smack to the other cheek, still just as soft and you murmur a quiet 'two.'

You squirm. You'd expected more harsh hits and the contrast has you aching for him to go a little rougher with you. He smacks again and again. Every slap of his palm against you only adds to the growing pleasurable sting that radiates across the whole surface of your ass.

He stops when he gets to ten, hands rubbing over the warm flesh. "Color?"

"Green, so green," you whine, pushing your ass back into his hands.

He chuckles. "You're so eager for your punishment that I'm starting to think that it might not be a very good punishment." His hand comes down, much harder than any previous spank and you cry out. "Ah, there we go."

Seokjin sounds so indifferent when he speaks, like he's not even bothered by your bare ass and the noises that slip from you with every connection. You wish you could see his face, see if there is any reaction he has. You want to see the indifference as he’s faced with your bare, dripping pussy and spank warmed ass. The next four spanks are just as harsh and tears gather, threatening to fall. It's so pleasurably painful that you can feel yourself dripping down your thighs. He gives you another small reprieve, hands ghosting along your smarting skin as you pant against the counter.

"Hm, there we go, that’s much better. Color?"

You squeeze your eyes closed, taking a moment to try to gather your foggy thoughts. You feel a few tears drip down your cheeks. "G-green."

His fingers dig into your ass then and you whine as you try to squirm away from the sudden flare of pain. Seokjin just chuckles again and digs his fingers in more. He pulls your cheeks apart and you gasp at being suddenly far more exposed. You clench at the burst of cool air across your asshole and pussy, and Seokjin just holds you like that for a long taunting moment. And then he surprises you further by spitting, the glob of spit hitting just above your asshole and beginning to slide down your crack.

You shudder, a moan slipping from your lips as Seokjin halts the spit from sliding too far by pressing his thumb to your hole. You feel yourself go boneless at the pressure. He hums in delight at the way you relax at only a little prodding.

"Oh? Do you like something in your ass too? My, what a naughty girl," he teases, mocking edge making you whine and press further against his thumb.

His thumb circles, pressing lightly against the tight ring of muscle, slowly spreading his saliva around. He plays with your hole, massaging it for a few moments before he's pulling away. He spanks you again and you tense up at the sudden flip from soft rubbing back to the harsh slaps.

"Didn't think I forgot about the rest of your punishment, did you?"

You quickly shake your head. You actually had forgotten that he said twenty and that you still have five left. But you can't let him know how distracted you had been by him playing with your ass. That you forgot you were being punished. That didn’t seem like it would go over well with him. Tears gather in your eyes as his hand lands again, breath punched from you as the pain builds with each swat of his hand.

Your throat feels rough when you finally croak out, 'twenty.'

His hands completely leave you and you tremble against the counter, struggling to keep yourself upright with your legs nearly boneless. You feel warm and floaty all over. 

"Fuck, you look so good like that." You preen at the praise but he’s quick to laugh. And the mocking, mean edge of it has you whining. "You're absolutely dripping. Did you even learn anything from your punishment? Or did you just enjoy it?"

You jolt when his fingers brush against your tender ass before they trail down to your pussy, running the length of your slit and gathering some of your wetness on his fingertips. His fingers leave you once more and a second later you hear him suck his fingers clean.

He groans. "Fuck, I wasn't planning on doing this as part of your punishment but you taste far too good to not give myself a little treat. It is Halloween after all." You can hear the growing smirk when he continues. "Oh, I have a much better idea now anyway."

His fingers trace your pussy lips and you shift, mindlessly trying to get them where you want them. They pull away and Seokjin delivers a quick smack to your pussy, jolting your body at the sudden burst of pain across your sensitive cunt and forcing a surprised yelp from your lips.

"Behave."

You pout, though you assume he can't see it. That is until you glance up at the storefront and see your reflections in the window and the predatory way that Seokjin stares at you. His grin is feral when you make eye contact, like he's been waiting for you to finally look up and realize that he can see your face as well. He keeps staring at you as his fingers slip through your folds again before he lets one slide inside you.

You moan at the intrusion, but it's not enough. You want more already, body warmed from the teasing and spanking already. He’s barely touched your pussy and you’re already so desperate for him. You clench around his finger, hips pushing back to try to get him deeper. He removes his hand again to land another smack to your pussy, dangerously close to your clit. You moan.

"Fuck, you're so dirty. You like getting your slutty pussy spanked just as much as your little ass?"

You nod, desperate to get more of something, anything he's willing to give you. Simply hoping that by agreeing will get you something. Seokjin spanks your pussy again, this time directly over your clit and you cry out, legs nearly giving out beneath you as the pleasure-pain sensation alights your nerves. His finger circles your entrance slowly before slipping inside once again.

"Seokjin please..."

He drags his finger out slowly before thrusting it back in just as slowly, letting you feel every inch of the digit. "What is it? Please what? If you're going to beg, you're going to beg like a proper slut and use. Your. Words." He punctuates the last three words a harsh thrust of his finger after each one, leaving it buried once he's done speaking.

"Please... Wan-" Your voice breaks as his finger presses searchingly against your walls, finding your g-spot quickly and rubbing against the bundle. The action robs you of all thought, losing track of what you had been saying.

"Yes?" He questions mockingly, like he's not distracting you and making it hard for you to form a coherent thought. "Please what?"

You groan, head dropping forward to press your forehead against the cool countertop. The slight chill that seeps through your sweaty skin grounds you a bit. Enough to string together some words. "Want... Wanna cum, please let me cum..."

Seokjin presses more firmly against your spot and your whole body trembles at the wave of pleasure that washes through you, pushing you closer to orgasm.

"Oh? Do you think you deserve that?"

You nod quickly, squeaking when Seokjin removes his finger to slap your pussy again, the only reminder you get to speak. "Yes, yes... Was good and counted the whole time."

He hums thoughtfully. "I suppose you did. So you want to cum, slut?"

You squirm as his fingers tease alone your folds. It’s maddeningly light, nowhere near enough to push you over the edge. "Yes, please, wanna cum, Seokjin..."

His answering hum should send up red flags but he slips two fingers into your pussy, rubbing immediately across your g-spot with each thrust of his hand and you sink immediately into the pleasure it sends through you. You writhe and his free hand comes up to press against your back, pinning you more securely to the counter. It just makes you writhe more, push the boundaries and feel him press you just a little harder into the unmoving counter. 

His thumbs slips forward on the next thrust to brush against your clit. Your belly tightens with every thrust and stroke of his fingers, orgasm rapidly approaching.

“You’re tightening around me so much. Is my little slut close?”

Your nod jerkily, hips twitching as you rock against his fingers. “S-so close…”

Seokjin stops with one last harsh thrust, switching instead to rubbing incessantly at your g-spot while his thumb circles your clit. “Then be a good fucking slut and cum,” he growls. 

He grabs your hair, tugging your head up so that you're forced to stare at his reflection once more. The look on his face makes you shudder and your pussy clenches around his fingers. Your mouth drops open at the feral look in his eyes and the way he seems wholly consumed by watching your every twitch and reaction. One more twist of his fingers has you crying out his name, toes curling in your skates as he pushes you over the edge. His hand releases your hair, a look of warning keeps you from letting your head drop, and his hand comes down in another spank against your ass and you jolt at the added sensation as your orgasm floods your body.

His fingers work you through your orgasm, slowing only marginally as you shake beneath him. You whine when overstimulation starts to take over but you make no moves to stop his movements. The extra sensitivity only adds to the pleasure that still licks away at your veins.

"Wow, too much and you're not even gonna stop me? Fuck, you really are a dirty, needy little slut."

You whine again, pushing your hips back onto his fingers, drawing an amused huff from him. He thumbs your clit roughly, causing your knees to nearly give out, before he's removing his fingers entirely and you pout at the sudden empty feeling you're left with. His hand slips back into your hair, tightening and pulling your head further back so your chest lifts slightly from the counter and you gasp as your attention is pulled back to his reflection. He smirks at you for a moment and then he's releasing you once more. You collapse against the counter, struggling slightly to keep your footing. 

You're suddenly very much regretting the fact that you have to wear skates at work because it's proving to be very dangerous. You wish you could stop and take them off, but you’re certain that Seokjin wants them on for the fact that it keeps you nearly immboile against the counter. You can’t deny that for the struggle to remain upright aside, being forced to stay like this because of your footwear is just another layer to the arousal that has yet to leave you. 

Seokjin's body blankets your's for a moment as he leans over to press a kiss to your shoulder. "Don't worry. I'll give you exactly what you need."

You have no time to question him because he's straightening once more and then his reflection disappears entirely as he drops to his knees behind you. Your throat feels dry as you wait for him to touch you again but the seconds stretch and he does nothing. You squirm, imagining what he must be seeing from his new position behind you, your pussy spread and dripping, hole twitching with the last vestiges of your orgasm. The way your thighs quiver as you force yourself to remain upright.

Embarrassment heats you at being stared at but the moment your legs start to close to attempt to hide yourself, Seokjin's hands grip your thighs, keeping you spread for his gaze to consume. He hums in appreciation, thumbs brushing your folds as he pulls your lips apart to get a better look at your dripping cunt. His breath ghosts across the sodden skin and you think that he's going to finally put his mouth on you but he surprises you when he lips brush gently against your ass.

"S-seokjin?"

He ignores you, peppering kisses across both cheeks, tongue slipping out occasionally to lave across areas made more sensitive by his spanking. He releases your pussy, hands sliding further up to cup your ass, massaging the flesh while his lips move across. It's nothing short of worship and you find yourself quickly getting lost in the attention.

By all means, it shouldn't be as hot as it is. He's barely even doing anything. Just kneading the flesh softly as his lips and tongue ghost across your skin. But every touch sends a spark of electricity up your spine. You wish you could see him, how he must look on his knees, the look on his face. Whether his brow is pinched in concentration like it does when he’s working or if it's relaxed as he takes his time with you.

The first pass of his lips over your asshole draws a soft sigh from you and you can feel the smile that tugs at his lips with his next kiss to your cheeks. He takes his time, only putting the lightest of touches to your hole as he showers attention across your ass. Your mind feels foggy, equal parts on edge for his next move and lulled into complacency by his gentle movements. You trust him to give you what you need, even if you don’t know what it is yet. 

His tongue darts out, circling the tightened ring of muscle with more pressure than he's used before and it causes your entire body to shake. He drifts away again and a whimper slips from your lips at the loss. He moves back to your hole quicker this time, each pass and circle of his tongue coming closer together as he goes.

His fingers dig into your ass, drawing a hiss from you at the flare of pain, and he pulls your cheeks apart. He stops there for a moment and you feel your hole clench at the focused attention.

Seokjin chuckles. "Needy little slut," he coos and then he spits directly onto your hole again.

You moan, feeling as it slowly slides down your ass until it meets your pussy and gets lost in the mess of your slick. He blows cool air where he spat and goosebumps break out across your skin. He blows again and then his mouth is closing over your hole, the sudden warmth has you crying out. Seokjin just hums, tongue tracing your hole.

You shift and Seokjin tightens his grip on your ass, keeping you still and you clench at the casual display of power. He keeps the pressure of his tongue light, enough for you to feel it but keeping you aching for more. And god do you ache for more, his teasing keeps the fire in your belly at just a simmer and you want to be consumed. Your previous orgasm is proving to be nowhere near enough as your clit throbs with need. Seokjin continues his slow pace despite your weak attempts to get him to do something.

He pulls away slightly, breath ghosting over you as he speaks. "If you need something slut, you know how to ask."

And then he dives back in, tongue continuing it's tortuously slow path around your hole. You open your mouth to speak, but Seokjin's tongue dips just inside your hole and you groan at the sudden change. He alternates between slow sweeps of his tongue around your rim and wiggling his tongue just a little deeper into you. The stretch isn't enough to hurt, not with how relaxed his previous attention has left you, and you find yourself wishing that there was just the slightest bit more stretch.

Seokjin's words come back to you and you swallow as you try to articulate your needs to him. "S-seokjin... Need more, please..."

He hums but makes no move to do anything about your whining. He's methodical and it's almost worse than the spanking in how torturous it is.

"Please... Fuck, Seokjin, please, please, please..."

Your begging seems to be what he was waiting for because one of his hands slides from your ass to trace along your slit. You moan at the contact, not expecting him to go for your pussy but you let out a happy noise as a pleasurable shiver runs through you. His fingers find your clit and he runs his fingers around it for a brief second before he’s pinching the sensitive bud. 

You cry out, thighs trying to close instinctively, but Seokjin’s body prevents you from moving them closer than an inch. You feel his smirk against your ass as he pinches again. You whimper, the pain sending sparks of pleasure through your body. He switches to circling your clit, soothing the painful throb he created and it lulls you into a false sense of security for when he thrusts his tongue as deep as he can into your ass. 

You choke on a moan as he thrusts his tongue in again, pairing it with another, slightly more gentle, pinch to your clit. You press your face to the counter, struggling to catch your breath amongst the assault of sensations that Seokjin lavishes upon you. But your attempts are nearly useless as he constantly changes what he’s doing, giving you no time to get used to anything and managing to surprise you with every single twist of his fingers and every thrust and curl of his tongue. 

While you struggle to keep yourself upright, you can feel your orgasm steadily building from the constant attention of his mouth and the abuse to your clit. It’s only a matter of time before you cum again. But you know you can’t, not without his okay, although the thoughts that flit through your mind of possible punishments for cumming without permission are incredibly enticing. That can wait for another day. 

“G-gonna�� Gonna cum, can I cum? Please, Seokjin… p-please let me cum…” you babble, feeling that knot inside you continuing to tighten and you can only try to stop it for so long. 

He pulls away, teeth nipping at the underside of your ass while his fingers continue to play with your clit. His mouth drifts a little lower and his teeth dig into the meat of your thigh. 

“Please!” you shudder, the added pain pushing you much faster towards your end.

His tongue traces soothingly over where he just bit, but he remains maddeningly silent. You blink away tears, though you’re not sure if they’re from the pain, frustration, or pleasure. 

“Please…” you whimper. 

He shifts to the other cheek, biting down again and you’re so close to cumming now. His tongue soothes the spot once more and you feel your body tensing with the first inklings of orgasm.  

But just as you reach the edge, nearly toppling over into the pleasure, Seokjin is pulling his hands and mouth away from your body, stopping your orgasm in its tracks. 

You let out a sob, a pitiful, whiny ‘no’ slipping from your lips as a few tears slide down your cheeks as your orgasm slowly slips through your fingers. 

“I don’t recall saying you could cum.” His hand comes down on your ass, right on top of where he bit. 

“I a-asked… Please, I was good.”

“You asked, but I didn’t say yes, slut.” His hand swats at your pussy next and you nearly cum from the action with how on edge you are. 

Seokjin seems to notice if his dark snicker is anything to go by. “Oh? You liked that? Seems you liked it a lot, you made such a mess of my fingers.” He slaps your pussy again and it jolts you closer to orgasm again. “Think you could cum just from me spanking your slutty little pussy? Fuck, I want to try. Do you want that, dirty girl?”

You nod without thinking. You’d do just about anything if it means you get to cum. And the sting only makes the pleasure feel all the better. “Please…”

You hear him shuffle for a moment, the sound of fabric rustling, before he’s nipping at your ass again, leaving teasing stings until his tongue can swirl around your asshole once more. His hand slaps your pussy the same time that his tongue slips back into your tight hole. You gasp and he starts alternating thrusts of his tongue with smacks to your clit.

Your body feels wound tight, every sensation that Seokjin showers on you sending you so much closer to the edge. It feels like you and Seokjin have been doing this for years with how well he seems to be able to read your body. You cry out as Seokjin pinches your clit once more, thighs quivering with the effort it takes to keep you standing.

Seokjin's tongue slips from your hole, but he remains close, lips brushing the sensitive furl as he speaks. "Come on, slut. We both know you can cum from this. Be good and let go for me."

His tongue circles your hole slowly and then it's slipping back in and he picks up a fast pace of fucking you with his tongue, interspersed with slaps and pinches to your clit, seemingly using no method and keeping you on your toes in guessing what will come next. Your high crests from the mixture of pleasure and pain and you cum with a sob, pussy clenching around nothing. Seokjin's fingers press to your clit as the first ripples of your orgasm rush through you and he skillfully draws your orgasm out for as long as possible. Your body feels electrified, pushed into overstimulation but your breath has been completely robbed from you with how good everything feels too, at the way Seokjin so easily manipulates your body to his every whim.

Slowly, he pulls his mouth and fingers from you, sitting back on his heels. You pant against the counter, hot air blowing back into your sweaty face but you're too exhausted to care. You kind of just want to slide off the counter and lay down on the floor, even though it's the kitchen floor and is probably gross. Seokjin pats your ass and it somehow feels condescending and you feel your pussy give a weak twitch.

"Enjoying yourself, slut?" All you can muster is a pitiful whine, which draws a snicker from him. "I certainly hope you are, because we're far from over."

You whine again. You honestly don't know if you could take more. Your body has never been so worked over without actually being fucked too. You don't even know what else he could do short of fucking you finally. Which had been the goal of this whole game to begin with, but he's far surpassed your expectations. Maybe you should push his buttons more often if it results in being so utterly ruined. You definitely know that no one else will ever be able to make you feel as good as he has. Seokjin's hands rub soothingly at your thighs and the action is so grounding that you feel a little dizzy.

"Color, sweetheart?" His voice is soft and gentle, so different from the mean tone that's been coloring it until now.

It takes you a moment to be able to speak, but you manage to get out a raspy 'green.'

"Need any water or a break?"

You think about it for a moment. You could take a break. Maybe take your skates off. But you really don't want to either. There's something about not being able to move that makes it even better, makes you feel powerless even though Seokjin has plainly handed you all the power here. You just want more. 

You shake your head. "I'm good."

His hands massage at your thighs for a few more moments before his fingers dig harshly into the newly relaxed muscle. You gasp and he gives a chuckle. "What a good little slut you're being now."

"Yes... 'm good."

Seokjin chuckles darkly. "That remains to be seen. You haven't even gotten my cock yet and you can barely even speak properly anymore. Not so cocky now, huh?"

He gives your ass a quick swat, it's far more teasing than meant to cause you any pain. His hands slide up your thighs until they just meet your ass and then his thumbs are pulling your soaking folds apart with a groan. Mirroring his earlier actions, he blows cool air across your pussy and you shudder at the way it feels against your heated cunt. His tongue lightly traces your folds and he lets out a contented noise like he’s tasting the most exquisite dish he’s ever eaten. 

Then he’s licking a wide stripe up your slit and you cry out, pussy so sensitive after two orgasms already. Seokjin eats you out like a starving man, tongue working over every inch of your pussy, mapping every spot that makes you twitch and moan. You writhe, or at least you try your best with Seokjin’s hands holding your ass and keeping your lower half mostly immobile. 

Seokjin pulls back with a smack of his lips. “For such a little devil, you certainly taste like heaven.” He snickers before diving back in. 

His plump lips wrap around your clit, tongue flicking lightly at the nub before he sucks. Fire simmers in your veins and you’re surprised at how quickly your orgasm builds again when he’s barely done anything just yet. He suckles lightly, pleasure surging through you. Releasing your clit with a pop, his tongue drags agonizingly slowly up to circle your entrance. He’s methodical, tracing around your hole with just the right amount of pressure before dipping back down to mouth at your clit and then back again. 

You feel yourself dripping, Seokjin noisily lapping up all that you have to give him. Seokjin’s fingers massage up to your ass, digging in and sending a spark of pleasure through you from the sting his grip brings. A hand abandons your ass, finger joining his mouth on your cunt. They work in tandem, fingers toying with your clit while he licks into your pussy. Then they switch, two fingers slipping deep inside you as his lips wrap around you clit once more. 

Time slips away from you, your mind hazy and body on edge as Seokjin plays with your pussy to his heart’s content. His tongue presses at your hole with a little more force and then his teeth graze the sensitive skin and you moan. You feel his smile when he presses his lips against you next and then his tongue is sliding into you. You moan as his fingers pinch at your clit at the same time. 

Heat pools in your belly as he starts fucking his tongue into you and you babble as you feel your orgasm rising as his fingers circle your clit, begging to cum again. He gives you a gentle pat on the ass with his free hand which you assume is meant to be his form of permission since he seems to not want to remove his mouth from your cunt. His fingers move faster and you teeter on the edge. You’re so close. So close that it’s driving you delirious with pleasure. But you just can’t quite get there, missing something that you can’t even fathom let alone ask for. 

Seokjin, ever perspective, seems to know exactly what you need as he slips a finger in with his tongue, pressing down on your g-spot and making you cry out. The insistent pressure combined with the fingers on your clit and tongue still thrusting into sends you over the edge. Bliss floods your body and you feel yourself gush around Seokjin’s tongue and fingers. He drinks up what he can before he’s pulling his mouth away with a curse. 

“Fuck, what a messy fucking slut. You made such a mess squirting, you little whore. I just cleaned these floors. I should make you lick them clean.” You clench around his fingers at his words and he lets out a dark chuckle. “Fuck you like that? Of course you would, you wouldn’t be my dirty little slut otherwise.”

His fingers continue their ministrations and you whine that it’s too much. Seokjin pays you no mind, slipping another finger into you. 

“Come on, slut. I know you can cum again.”

You shake your head. “C-can’t… not… No more…” You squirm, trying your best to get away from the relentless pressure against your clit and g-spot. 

His fingers slow for a moment. “Color?”

You swallow. It hurts, but not necessarily in a bad way. It doesn’t feel like it’d be too much to go on. You’ve never been pushed so far and there’s a thrill that runs through you when you think about discovering what exactly your body can take, even more excited that Seokjin is the one to test the bounds and that he makes sure to check in, to remind you that the safe words are there if it’s too much. You trust him to listen if you need to slow down. But you don’t want to, not right now.

You can feel your wetness literally dripping down your thighs and seeping into your tights makes you feel warm all over, overcome with a need to see how soaked they could get. “G-green, please…”

Seokjin hums, fingers picking their pace back up. “There’s my good little slut. Come on, cum for me like a good little whore.”

His mouth latches onto you again and you shudder, body still worked up from your squirting orgasm that it takes so little effort for Seokjin to push you over the edge again. Your mouth drops open on a soundless scream, pussy convulsing as you gush around his fingers, wetness dripping down his hand and to the floor. You whimper and Seokjin carefully slips his fingers from you. He laps gently at your folds, just enough to send tingles of pleasure up your spin.

He pulls away with a groan. “I could eat you out all night.”

You’re torn between imagining the idea and fearing for your poor pussy if he were to actually do that. He stands and you lift your head enough to look at his reflection when it comes back into view. Your breath catches in your throat when your gaze is met with his bare chest. You have no idea when he had stripped his shirt off and you mourn the fact that you didn’t get to see and appreciate the sight more. He shifts slightly and his chin and chest glistens and you feel your body heat with embarrassment when you realize that you were the cause of that. He meets your gaze and winks.

“Think you’re ready for my cock, slut?”

You whine. You honestly don’t know how much more you can handle, but at the same time, you absolutely have to have him inside you. “Please, Seokjin, please… want it.”

His hands give your ass a quick squeeze before they’re leaving you and you can see him focusing on his pants. You curse your current position and the fact that it keeps you from being able to see his cock in all its glory. You know it’s got to be beautiful. It’d be criminal if it wasn’t. 

He smacks your ass with his cock, leaving a smear of precum across the skin. God, how long has he been hard for? How did he hold out for this long? You squirm and he chuckles. 

“Beg a little more, slut.”

You wiggle your ass, pouting. “Please, Seokjinnie… Please, I want it. Want your cock, wanted it for so long… Please I-”

Seokjin cuts your begging off as he roughly thrusts into you. You cry out, hands scrambling for purchase against the counter as his cock stretches you out all at once. He’s huge, so much bigger than you ever dared imagine. Long and girthy and so perfect to fill every inch of your pussy. You’re honestly not sure how he fits, you feel full to bursting with him buried to the hilt in your cunt. You wished you’d gotten to take your time with it, had him stuff it down your throat. The thought makes saliva pool in your mouth. You’re definitely going to repay the favor and worship his cock when you get the chance.

He swears. “Fuck… your cunt…”

His fingers dig into your hips as he holds himself still for a moment. Then he’s pulling out until just the tip remains before slamming back it, jolting you forward against the counter. Seokjin starts a fast pace, immediately overwhelming you and giving you almost no time to adjust to him. 

His grip tightens on your hips, enough to feel like it’ll be a bruise by morning. “Think you can cum again for me, slut? Cum on my cock for me, baby?”

You whine and shake your head. “N-no… please, can’t…”

Seokjin slams into you, draping himself over you and letting a hand snake around your throat. He waits, giving you a chance to say no to this and when he receives no denial, he squeezes lightly. You gasp and he squeezes a little tighter. You feel lightheaded and if it wasn’t for Seokjin’s body pinning you to the counter, you’d probably slide to the floor. Keeping his grip on your throat, he grinds into you, savoring the way your pussy clenches around him.

He loosens his hold slightly and meets your gaze in the window. “You’re going to cum for me again. And your pretty little cunt is gonna milk every drop of cum I have to give you. How does that sound, baby? Want me to fill your slutty little cunt up?”

As much as you don’t want to, you honestly have no idea if your body is even capable of having another orgasm, you want to find out. And the thought of Seokjin fucking you full on top of it has you nodding to his words almost instantly. “Yes, please… Seokjin, please, fill me up…”

His hand tightens again and he gives you a pleased smirk. “You’re so well behaved now. Hard to believe how much of a naughty little brat you’ve been lately.” 

He switches from grinding to thrusting again, though his position over you means that his thrusts are shorter but no less rough. His other hand slides around to your front, fingers brushing your clit. You clench around him and receive a low moan from him as his grip on your throat loosens again. His fingers circle your clit and you can feel your orgasm quickly creeping up on you. You briefly wonder if it’s possible to die from too many orgasms. But then Seokjin nips at your neck, drawing your focus back to the way his cock drags along your walls and the filth he’s murmuring into your skin as his fingers work faster. 

It washes over you and you cum with a cry of his name, pussy convulsing around his cock. You feel his breath puff against your skin as his forehead presses to your shoulder. His hand falls away from your clit, planting itself once more on your hip as his thrusts pick up speed now that he’s chasing his own end. 

Seokjin’s hips stutter to a stop as he cums with a groan pressed to your skin. His cock twitches inside you as he empties himself in your pussy, filling you up. You sink against the counter, praactically purring in contentment at the flood of warmth that he releases within you. He pants against your skin for a long moment and you let your exhaustion slowly wash over you. You’d give anything for a bed right now and to never have to move again. 

Seokjin pushes himself up and then slowly slips out of you. You whine at the loss and you get a soft chuckle. His hands rub soothingly at your back before they come to rest on your waist. He gives you a squeeze.

“I’m gonna help you stand and get you sitting on the counter, okay?”

You groan. “Don’t wanna…”

Seokjin huffs a soft laugh. “I don’t care. I need to make sure you’re okay and we need to get your skates off.”

He starts moving you, though you know you aren’t much help with how jelly-like your limbs feel. He finally gets you seated on the counter and it takes all your remaining strength to stay sitting upright. You blink hazy eyes at Seokjin; he’s tucked himself back into his pants but they still remain undone, giving you the faintest glimpse of his cock. You pout, you’d wanted to see it. 

His hands cup your cheeks, directing your gaze to his eyes and you blink slowly at him. He gives you a soft smile. “There you are.” His thumbs stroke gently across your cheeks, wiping away the last bits of your tears. “Can you stay sitting up for me? I’m going to get you some water, okay?”

You nod, frowning when his hands leave your face. You want him to keep touching. He turns, grabbing a cup and quickly filling it with water. He hands it to you, helping you when it almost slips through your lax grip. He makes you drink half before he lets you set the cup down. He leans down and makes quick work of your skates, tugging them from your feet. You sigh in relief, feet flexing at finally being free from their confinements and a surprised noise leaves your lips when you feel his thumbs dig into the soles of your feet. He rubs each foot and you nearly fall asleep from the relaxation that slowly spreads through your system.  

Seokjin stands, his hands coming back up to cup your face. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m okay,” you croak out, lips pursing at how wrecked your voice comes out.

You can see Seokjin fight down a prideful grin as his thumbs stroke your cheeks. It’s silent for a few moments before he’s gasping and you give him a questioning look. He tuts, though you don’t know if it’s directed at you or himself.

“All that and I haven’t even kissed you yet.”

You giggle, he does all that and is worried about the fact that he didn’t kiss you at all. He tilts your head up, soft smile pulling at the corner of his lips. You blink at him for a moment, not expecting him to follow through with fixing that. But when he leans in, you let your eyes slip shut. The kiss is sweet and chaste, the complete opposite of everything that just happened. It lasts for just a moment and you ache to have more of the feel of his plush lips pressed against yours. 

He grins as he pulls away and then busies himself with finding your shoes and your bag, helping you into them. He presses a kiss to your forehead and presses the water back into your grip with the instruction to finish it. He slips his shirt back on, tucking it back into his pants and then he’s darting out the door. Which confuses and alarms you for a split second before you realize that he’s grabbing that money that then men had left on the table. 

He’s quick to cash the ticket out, slipping the hefty tip they left you into your purse before taking the drawer back to the office. He’s gone for a few minutes and you sip slowly at the water while you wait. Now that you’re alone, you wonder what all of that meant. If it was just a culmination of sexual tension and frustration or if there was something more there. Hoseok and Jimin have regularly pushed you to tell Seokjin how you feel. But you’ve always kept that hidden, not wanting to make work suddenly weird when this job and your coworkers are the best you’ve ever had.

And the costumes hadn’t gotten Seokjin to ask you out or offer to be the other half of the pair costumes despite the hints you tried dropping. Maybe he just wasn’t interested in that and just wanted a quick fuck. But some of his actions disprove that. Maybe he was just as nervous as you to ask. 

He reappears, pressing another kiss to your forehead as he takes the empty glass from you and sets it aside. 

“Think you can stand now?”

You shake your legs out experimentally. You certainly seem to have a little more control over them. “I can try.”

That draws an amused snort from him and he helps you down from the counter, hands not leaving you until he’s sure that you’re safe to stand on your own. You adjust your dress, pulling it back down and wincing slightly as the slightly rough material drags over your ass. Your bare ass. You glance around the floor. 

“Hey, where are my underwear?”

Seokjin’s back is to you as he wipes down the part of the counter you were just sitting on. “Oh, they’re completely ruined.” He glances at you over his shoulder with a smirk. “And mine now.”

You squirm, feeling some of his cum drip from your abused cunt. Well at least you’re just going home. You can make it that far. Not that they would’ve been much use to you ripped anyway. Maybe you should make him buy you a new pair. That request might come after the feelings talk though. 

Once he’s done, he wraps an arm around you, pulling you into his chest and pressing a kiss to your hair. “Ready to go?”

You hum and nod. You are seriously ready to sleep for a day. You’re glad that you don’t work tomorrow. You don’t think Seokjin does either. Maybe you can entice him to stay the night and you could cook him breakfast before the two of you talk. 

Seokjin leads you out of the building, locking the door as you go, and guides you towards his car. Your’s is at home, though you’re not sure if Seokjin already knew that or is just directing you towards his car because he doesn’t trust you to drive right now. To be fair, you don’t think you could actually drive if you had to. You’re glad that you’d been planning to drink at the party and so you were just going to either catch a ride, stay at Jimin’s, or get an Uber so that your car isn’t left in the lot overnight. 

Once settled, he starts the car and pulls out of the lot. You frown watching him turn. 

“Seokjin, I live the other way.”

“I know.”

“And you live the other way.”

He smirks. “I know.”

You swallow. “Where are we going?”

“Well, it’s a shame for you to get all dressed up for a party and to not even go to show it off.”

“I can’t go to a party like this!” You only briefly caught sight of your full reflection but you know how fucked out you look. He can’t seriously be taking you to the party right now. 

Seokjin’s hand lands on your thigh. “You had no problem going to work like that.”

You whine and squirm, immediately squeezing your legs together when you feel another dribble of cum slip from you. “That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

Seokjin just hums, driving the rest of the short distance to Jimin’s house in silence. You try your best to fix yourself up in the mirror so you don’t look completely ruined. It’s only slightly effective. You wish you had Yennifer’s powers, then you could just magic your way home. Would serve Seokjin right. 

He parks and helps you out of the car before reaching into the back for a wig and a sword. He adjusts both items and you look him over appraisingly. 

“At least you’ve got Geralt’s brutish personality down.” You tease. 

Seokjin takes your hand and presses a kiss to it before using it to lead you to the house. “I’d like to think I’m far more charming than him.”

You giggle. “That remains to be seen.”

The party is in full swing when you enter and it takes the both of you a few moments to find your friends. When you do, they all are quick to take in your appearance and the way Seokjin’s hand is wrapped around yours. Jimin crows victoriously, slapping Taehyung on the back.

“I told you! You owe me!”

You bury your face in Seokjin’s shoulder to hide your embarrassment. You just wanted to go home and cuddle. Seokjin’s lips brush your ear.

“If you promise to stay a while, we can get revenge on him and go fuck in his bed.”

[everythingthemoontouches]

Hiiiiiiii~ I wanna know your thoughts/opinions about my placements:

-Libra Sun in 8th house

- Aquarius Moon in 12th conjunct Rising

- Capricorn Mars in 11th at 10 degrees

- Pluto sextile Rising?

Thanks u so much🌸🌸🌸

If you ever start an occult business I feel like you'd have the prettiest setup because of that Libra sun in the 8th. Libra is beauty, grace and tact personified.

The sun usually doesn't do so well in Libra cuz your ego is influenced a lot by the people around you. However, if you can master the fine line between doing and receiving you're set.

Funeral directors could have this placement. Property lawyer. Libra is about justice after all.

☀️Sun in the 8th :You could accidentally shed light on things people are trying to hide - infidelity, debt, money laundering, tax evasion. The occult mysteries of the world could be something that your soul longs to uncover.

♒Aqua moon: how much do you like space movies / fiction? I'm guessing a lot

♒Aqua moon : makes more I think statements than I feel statements.

Masters at cutting people off cold turkey.

Exalted Mars : you go out and get shit done. Professionally you're seen as the success archetype. Even your social media handles could reflect a well groomed, rich / successful aesthetic. You project a classy, stable, prosperous image. I think this is a great placement for a long, stable, money making career. You may be good at mobilizing support. Mars in the 11th could indicate that in order to make money, you may need to be on your feet. Or lead an active lifestyle. Capricorn Mars in the 11th could enjoy being a part of hiking or mountaineering trails. You may choose to surround yourself with people who challenge you to grow. Healthy competition can be a bit of an aphrodisiac. You know those boss babe influencer pages taht teach people how to level up, get their finances in order, dress respectably and just get their life on track? You're astrologically placed for success if you decide to pursue that.

Capricorn Mars women are usually attracted to slightly more mature and financially secure men. You've probably held high standards for the men you allow into your life.

You mention aquarius moon conjunct your ascendant so I'm guessing that's your rising sign too?

If so, you probably come across a little aloof with really innovative ideas. You give off the vibe that you improve whatever groups you're a part of. So you may be someone people think is good at networking /making friends. I know some people describe aquarius as the mad genius innovator archetype. I find that in some cases this can translate as seemingly lazy behaviour. This laziness can actually be what prompts them to improve the efficiency of long tedious processes. How do you minimize the amount if work you hsve to do? By increasing the results of each step you perform.

Aquarius ascendants are usually practical, fair and not too emotionally expressive. Especially around people they don't know really well. As I reread this, I'm reminded of Chef Reynold from Masterchef Australia. He is in season 12- creates the most beautifully moving desserts all with a super stoic or closed off expression on his face because he is super focused on his work. Is this something you could relate to?

You could be a really interesting person and well read. Have a bunch of hobbies, someone who can hold their own in conversation. Since both your sun and moon are in air signs, you are able to communicate effectively and in a clear, logical manner. I mean, we would have to look at your mercury too, but unless it was under some really negative influences we are safe in believing that what you intend to express is what people take away from what you say.Personally, this is something I really struggle with cuz my mercury sits in the 12th.

As someone with Pisces in the firsthouse, you have an ethereal beauty to you. Probably quite easy going and may have been really susceptible to manipulation in your younger years.

Moon in the 12th. Intensely creative. Add to that you're an aquarius/Pisces rising with an 8th house sun? There's a heavy mystical /spiritual energy about you. Something otherworldly almost. If the moon has malefic impacts this could cause insomnia, addiction issues and a sense of not feeling a sense of identity. Or taking on people's energy sub consciously. I believe the fact that your moon is in Aquarius could would make you less susceptible to other people's influence because of its logical and thinking nature.

Aquarius moon likes to build their own community rather than feeling super attached to their birth family - I'm not saying they don't have great relationship with family, they're just people who like to go out into the world and find their own corner.

Your closest friends may be people who live far away, whom you may have met online.

Aquarius moon natives usually love taking a nap. Feeling stressed? Take a nap? Bored? Take a nap. Uninspired? Take a nap.

Do you make music at all? Neptune ruled first house and moon in the 12th could mean you're really blessed when it comes to anything remotely creative.

you could be a natural psychic. A tarot reader I appreciate uses her paintings to channel. I feel like you could do really well if you went down a similar line. Do you receive ideas in your sleep a lot?

Pluto sextile rising? You radiate sex appeal. Power. People may feel like their life is about to change when they meet you. For the worse or better is up to them. You may come across as intimidating without meaning to.

Pluto sextile rising, Capricorn Mars, and Neptune's influences tell me that you may have a bit off an untouchable vibe to you. I'd normally say that your sun in Libra could make you appear more pleasant / non threatening if it wasn't for the fact that its placed in the 8th house. It's like there's no escaping the occult sciences with you. I personally would catch a flight to get to any Halloween parties you decided to throw

I hate to fangirl but I feel like if you were an artist and I were to come across your art, I'd feel deeply moved, like seeing a painting by someone channeling source energy.

Now I understand that some of this may be more relatable than others. That would give you a clue as to which Planets have a greater influence on you currently...

[jeontaehui]

TAEHEE WITH WAYV

kun kunhee

taehee’s true aegyo only shows when she talks to kun.

she would call him ‘kun gege‘ or ‘kunnie kun kun’ when she’s feeling it lol

taehee Loves kun’s cooking !!! every time the neos would separate into groups during an activity that involved cooking, she’d beg to be in the same group as him.

(nct world ep. 8) “oppa, your food is to die for.”

kun looks at taehee very fondly, like how a dad would watch his child. 

he thinks taehee can be a bit out of hand sometimes, but 98% of the time they’re together, kun looks like he’d spoil taehee without her having to ask him. 

(180403 vlive) “kun-ge,” taehee skips in her steps as kun turns his head to acknowledge her, “hmm?” “if ten oppa asked you to cut me in half, would you?” she asks him expectantly, and without missing a beat, he replies, “no”. triumphantly, taehee turns to the back to stick out her tongue at ten, “see, you’re the only person—“ “i don’t want to have two of you around,” kun cuts her off with a playful smirk, which turns to a laugh as soon as taehee lets out a gasp. she continued to ramble about how she trusted him, how she felt betrayed. “i’m just kidding,” kun says as he put his arm around taehee’s shoulders, pulling her close before ruffling her hair. 

although they’re not a very popular duo or not seen together quite often, taehee absolutely missed kun and his playfulness (and maybe his cooking too).

iconic moment (uncut take #1 | 2020 yearparty behind scene #2) “hello,” they respectfully greeted, with taehee clinging to kun’s side. “i’m here with taehee,” kun starts, “and even if we aren’t in a scene together, we’re hanging out.”

“i missed kun oppa,” taehee pouts, “kun gege.” this immediately made kun smile, it was clear how kun adored taehee like she was his own child. “really?” and taehee nods in response. “it’s been like, what, two years? since i’ve last seen you. moments with you are like, a breath of fresh air,” kun softly laughs at the comparison as he shakes his head at her dramatics. “you’re just making stuff up, aren’t you?”

“i’m not! i swear!”

“are you sure it’s not my cooking that you missed?”

“well... maybe that too.”

song happier by marshmellow ft. bastille

ten tnt / tenhee

taehee likes to think of ten as her twin, but then he would always shoot down the idea. 

(n’-75) “we’re like twins, right?” taehee tells ten before throwing a chip into her mouth. “yeah, but you’re the annoying one and everyone likes me.”

their videos on nct’s dance channel are literally Divine !!!!!! nctzens especially went wild when taehee performed with ten on ‘hit the stage’.

the dirty jokes ..... don’t even get me started. ten would make one remark and it immediately becomes dirty when he makes eye contact with taehee (ft. mark sometimes). if taehee was about to break out laughing, she’d go “UGH I HATE YOU!”

but even if they’re like this with each other, ten and taehee care about each other a whole lot :(

(nct world ep. 3) taehee strained her wrist while attempting to do jump over the vault. though she was able to balance herself quickly, she looked as if she were about to fall; at this split second, ten took a worried step forward, afraid that she’d slip to the ground. later, when taehee comes back with a wrist guard around her hand, ten takes a concerned look at her and asks if she was okay.

taehee also caught a cold while they were preparing for ‘90’s love’ and ten kept insisting he’d make her something to help her feel better.

ten would never admit it but taehee is his baby, anything or anyone that’s bothering her will have to go through him first >:(

iconic moment (jcc ep. 25) “ten, i don’t think it’s supposed to work that way,” taehee giggles at him as he stood a foot away from her while mixing his self-made cookie dough. “no, you wait for it. it’s gonna work,” ten insists while pointing the wooden spoon menacingly at taehee, but this just made the girl smile wider.

she secretly slides the jar of white sugar towards her and scoops up a spoonful, before moving carefully towards ten. “i don’t even think you added sugar,” she mumbles, but his body moves to block her and she bumps into his back with another step. “HEY!” she laughs at how protective ten was getting over his cookie dough, and his stirring becoming more and more aggressive as she tries to put sugar in it, “i’m going to place some so it has a taste!”

ten protests that he already did a while ago while taehee maneuvered her way around him laughing. ten knew what she was trying to do and so he bumped his hip against hers to stop her from getting any nearer. “this is going to spill! ten, stop!,” taehee tries to hold in her giggles, ten was being too cute. “and you’re going to clean it up when it does,” he bites back.

taehee resumes to finding ways to get sugar into the mix while ten resists, causing a very entertained mark to fill the studio with laughter. after a few minutes of trying, taehee sighs and puts back the sugar in the jar, "wow, i never knew baking could be so tiring.”

turns out, ten’s cookies didn’t come out that well and taehee’s expression said it all. “i told you so.”

song positions by ariana grande 

winwin winhee

when winwin was promoting with wayv, he and taehee would send each other messages asking about their days or if they had plans for anything. since both units were busy, they really never do this and it’s only rare that they message each other, let alone call each other.

that’s why taehee was very happy when she saw winwin again for resonance :(

if taehee was chill about her love for winwin before, now she’d just poke his cheeks every once in a while.

(uncut take #1 | 2020 yearparty behind scene #1) taehee watches from the side as three or four members corner winwin to gush over him, making her give a disapproving shake of the head to the camera. “everyone, winwin hyungie is like a baby,” she nods. “babies won’t like it if you bother them too much, so you have to be subtle with your affection.” taehee gives a playful smirk to the camera, “that’s why winwin hyungie likes me.”

winwin, on the other hand, thinks that taehee changed very much the last time he saw her. from being childish and innocent, she became matured and confident. this is how winwin felt time really flew.

(uncut take #1 | 2020 yearparty behind scene #1) “winwin gege~,” taehee whines, seeing how it would roll off her tongue. “did i say that right? ‘winwin gege’?,” she looks to see that winwin already had a fond smile on his face. “you are so cute,” he pouts, “jeon taehee, you are really too cute.”

iconic moment (201106 twitter blueroom live) “winwin hyung, who is your favorite member here in 90’s love?,” haechan asks from his left. and as everyone appeals to him, including mark who touches his ear out of affection, he already had one person in mind. “jeon taehee.”

song left to right by marteen

lucas luhee

a very very very very chaotic duo.

if you watch compilation videos of the funniest moments from empathy era, the iconic clip of lucas and taehee saying something else instead of ‘yadom’ (nasal spray) would always be included. they had to cut out that part from the live later, and members had to tell them what ‘야동’ actually meant in the next live.

taehee would try to teach lucas some korean before, but then that’s just her talking in korean with an english accent.

(180712 vlive) “why are you so tall?,” taehee raises her eyebrow at him. “why are you so short?,” lucas laughs.

taehee threw a pick-up line at mark during that same live, and lucas asked her why wasn’t she like that to him too. “lucas, don’t laugh but,” taehee tells him, “even if you’re as tall as a tree, i’ll still see you as a big baby. i’m not lying.”

and so jungwoo and taehee’s snacking tradition was actually jungwoo, taehee, and lucas’ snacking tradition.

for taehee, it’s so satisfying to watch lucas eat especially if he’s enjoying it so much. lucas actually admitted that the food that taehee carried in her bag would eventually go to his stomach. it became a habit for taehee to carry some in her bag even if lucas wasn’t promoting with her anymore.

iconic moment (uncut take #14 | ‘resonance’ mv behind the scene) “yo lucas,” taehee greets as she was pulled into a friendly bro hug. when she pulls away, she quicklt takes a look at lucas’ gorgeous features and steps back, “woah, you’re seriously so handsome.” lucas turns shy at her compliment and rubs the back of his neck, “you too.”

taehee raises her eyebrows in amusement, smirking as she says, “i’m handsome too?” lucas thinks for a moment before nodding yes, “you can be handsome too.”

“okay czennies, meet two very handsome people. hello!”

song rather be by clean bandit (ft. jess glynne)

xiaojun xiaohee

out of all the ‘99 boys, she’d want to get to know xiaojun more the most. 

they’re not awkward with each other, they’re just shy to approach each other and start a conversation. 

(sun & moon ep. 2) “taehee-ssi told me the other day she really liked xiaojun hyung’s voice out of the blue,” the said girl eyes haechan carefully, suddenly feeling nervous at what he’s going to pull. “i told her she should tell you herself, why is she telling me? she said she was shy,” when he had said this, a chorus of ‘ohh’s’ came from the rest of the bunch, except for taehee. she had a threatening smile on her face directed at the one and only lee haechan, so he decides to prod her further, “taehee-ssi, perhaps you’d like a guesting on awsaz?”

unknowingly though, xiaojun soon becomes one of the causes of taehee’s smiles or laughter whenever they’re filming together. 

(nct world ep. 2) “taehee, fighting!,” he cheers as taehee stepped forward to arm wrestle. the latter quickly turns around to give him a salute as she winks.

(201120 vlive) “xiaojun comes home and he talks about taehee too,” kun shares, “they hang out a lot.” doyoung snickers, “he fell for her too? taehee tells us how funny you guys are in your dorms, but she only ever talked about xiaojun.”

so yes ,,, they are very shy around each other but as far as we know !!! they’re really good friends who want to be closer to each other.

iconic moment (uncut take #14 | ‘resonance’ mv behind the scene) “you guys have pets in your dorm, right?,” taehee asks him as she leaned back, her arms supporting her from behind. “yes, we have three. the dog is bella and we have two cats named leon and louis,” taehee’s eyes widened, though she admits she feels jealous to have their pets around.

“i would keep my dog with me but they won’t let me.”

“oh really? what’s the name?”

“her name is 뚱이, and she’s a lhasa apso.”

“ahh,” xiaojun nods, “does she pee on your carpet?”

taehee throws her head back slightly as she laughs at the question, bringing a hand to her mouth to hide her growing smile. “do your pets pee on your carpet?” xiaojun shrugs, “well, sometimes,” he nods off disappointingly, causing taehee to giggle. “but we love them,” xiaojun sighs, and his eyes see taehee’s wide smile as she agrees with him. “that’s right, we love them.”

song i really like you by carly rae jepsen 

hendery deryhee

taehee finds hendery SO funny, i swear.

like he can literally just smile and nod she’d bust her lungs out from laughing

nctzens found it cute when taehee and hendery monitored each other while they were shooting for the ‘misfit’ track vid.

(misfit track video behind the scene) “ooo hendery is good. he looks cool.”

taehee watched the awsaz episode of winwin and jisung ,,, firstly because of those two.

but then hendery and haechan were so funny too she may have shed a tear from laughing.

a fan asked in those video call fansigns if taehee has watched any of wayv’s videos and she laughed, saying that she watched the one where they acted as disney princesses.

“hendery is so funny, really,” she smiled. “I CAN SHOW YOU THE WORLD!!!!”

they became really close during resonance era and talk about games, their pets, and already have some inside jokes between the two of them.

like a member would just say ‘cabbage’ and we already have the two of them smiling to each other from across the room !!! or they’d make eye contact when looking at the mirror and taehee would just bust out laughing.

iconic moment (201106 twitter blueroom live) “you’re really, really, really, really handsome,” yuta starts with utmost sincerity, “hendery.” the latter brings a hand to his face, his face warming up at the compliment as he sighs contently. this comical reaction causes taehee to burst into a fit of laughter, one you could hear off-cam.

later, when it was time for the ‘90’s love’ unit to take charge of the live, taehee giggles out of the blue, trying to keep her laughs in. “why?,” mark asks as he glances at her. “i’m sorry i just,” she pauses. surely, she was thinking about the funny things hendery pulled when they were doing the live before them. “i just keep thinking about how funny hendery was. i’m sorry, i’ll just eat my fries,” she says the last part quickly, throwing a french fry in her mouth as she bites back a smile.

song love story by taylor swift (disco lines ft. cassidi remix)

yangyang yanghee

taehee finds yangyang SO cute, precious, and tiny.

whenever yangyang is speaking, we’d see taehee in the corner of the frame smiling. 

she’s all over the yangyang vocalist agenda !!!!!!

(uncut #16 | ‘90’s love’ recording behind) “this is yangyang’s voice, isn’t it?,” taehee beams as she hears the younger’s voice through her headphones. “i really like his voice.”

yangyang’s such a smiley baby around taehee, partially because she told him he was very cute when he smiles.

fans find it so endearing when taehee calls yangyang “yangyangie” as if she’s talking to a baby :(

(201022 weibo live) “taehee noona and i play games when she comes here,” yangyang tells renjun. “and then she’ll hangout with the pets later,” he and renjun laugh at this. typical taehee.

taehee would buy drinks from the vending machine for sungchan since he’s the maknae in ‘90’s love’ but !!!! she makes a special exception for yangyang.

just a little bit more and he’s up taehee’s baby list ^ ^

iconic moment (uncut take #8 | ‘90′s love’ mv behind) “today is yangyang’s birthday!,” taehee chirps as she held the camera, making sure she and yangyang were both in the frame. “you’re like, 21 now, right?,” yangyang nods, “how are you feeling today?”

“i feel happy right now since you guys like prepared a cake and stuff and sang ‘happy birthday’ to me awhile ago,” taehee smiles at this. “so i’ll continue to work hard with you guys as we wrap up filming,” yangyang finishes as he beams at her, the latter mirroring his expression. 

“you’re so cute, you know that, right?,” taehee coos as she focuses the camera to yangyang (who smiles shyly at the compliment), before placing herself back in frame. “i only got to play games with yangyang a few times because chenle invited me, but now that we’re all spending time together, i think yangyang’s a very cute dongsaeng.” at this, they both giggle and taehee raises her fist for a fist bump. “i know,” yangyang says as he bumps his fist against hers, taehee laughing at this cute ball of sunshine. 

song timber by pitbull (ft. ke$ha) 

[rissynicole]

DTIYS Contest Prize: Rllyaangrlly

Here is the first of the one-shots promised to the three winners of the DTIYS event I put on recently. (Thank you guys for being patient with me, btw. I’m a very slow writer, and you’re seeing it in action). Just as the title states, this one is for @rllyaangrlly, based on her requests. 

This was a ton of fun and gave me an opportunity to not only shake some writing rust, but work with topics I don’t normally explore. More than anything, I was able to try to emulate the vibes Brit gives these characters in her own art/writing. I wish I had a better word for it, but I’ve always felt like Brit has a certain “aesthetic” with the IZ characters through her drawing style, the situations she puts them in, and her overall portrayal of their personalities. I’ve always adored it, and it was an honor to be able to try my hand at writing it. 

Story is under the cut.

Characters: Dib, Zim, Gaz

Relationships: ZaGr, ZaDf

Warnings: minor injuries

Words: 3,706

Absurdity

The car’s engine and the drone of its wheels on the highway were the only sounds that passed between the three. The radio hadn’t been turned on, and no one had the gall nor the desire to change that. Not Zim, who was turned almost completely towards the window in the passenger seat, nor Gaz in the backseat. They drove along in heavy silence as Dib stared stonily ahead of him at the stretch of road, hands gripping the wheel numbly.

Dating. They’re… dating.

The idea was positively absurd to him. Not only did it feel weirdly out of the realm of possibility, but it felt wrong, somehow. Like some sort of tasteless prank. When Zim had told him, he’d half expected the camera crew from Punk’d to come parading around the corner, led by Ashton Kutcher, to point and laugh at the look on Dib’s face. “Can you believe it?! Your best friend—alien best friend—and your little sister! You totally fell for it!”

That almost would have been better. Cruel and mortifying, maybe, but better. At least then, he wouldn’t be sitting behind the wheel of the car trying to make sense of it while the two pretended not to notice from inches away. But it wasn’t a prank. Hell, Dib wasn’t famous enough to be on Punk’d anyway. Maybe someday… but not today.

A little part of him had high hopes for the series of paranormal investigation videos he and Zim had strung together. Lately, that little part of him had stopped feeling so childish, too. Their following had risen significantly over the last few months, gaining more and more traction as people tuned in. Suddenly, their modest little support net of viewers was in the hundreds. Then the thousands. Then the hundred-thousands. Truth be told, Zim and Dib hadn’t really come across anything of substance in their investigations, but their newer viewers weren’t exactly around for solid proof of the paranormal, anyway. It hadn’t taken long for the two to realize that most of the channel’s appeal came from the dripping sarcasm and witty banter directed at one another.

“Chemistry” was an apt word, and it got thrown around a lot. Zim and Dib, quite by accident, had become the up-and-coming best friend duo in the paranormal community. And with each new investigation, they garnered more and more recognition.

That’s where they were headed now, towards Ottawa National Forest to investigate the latest hot spot Dib’s research had led him to. The “Paulding Light” was a strange phenomenon, appearing in a single spot in the woods and taking form of a bright glow before fading off into the darkness of the night. Though plenty of locals could attest to having seen it, no one could feasibly explain it. Dib was determined to catch it on camera. Or at least he had been, before Zim had dropped the bomb on him right before leaving the house.

Dating. They’re… dating.

His thoughts rounded back, and he felt his hands readjust themselves on the steering wheel. Behind him, Gaz sighed quietly and cross her legs. He almost swore he could sense her and Zim exchange a glance through the rearview mirror, but he really had no way of knowing. He didn’t really want to know.

Dating.

“What’s the exit?” he asked, jarring them all back to reality.

Zim paused before answering. “It’s a couple down. Not this one, but the next.”

They returned to silence. Even as Dib’s blinkers resounded through the car and they exited off the highway. Even as the smooth highway turned to bumpy asphalt, then later, dirt roads.

At last, Zim spoke. “Dib—”

“I’m not mad,” he interrupted. “I’m just…I don’t know what I am. I need to process this. Just…” He trailed off, his mouth a thin line.

Zim and Gaz glanced at each other through the rearview again.

Eventually, they pulled into a dirt lot and spilled out of the little hatchback, glad for a break in the tension that had been all-consuming throughout the entire car ride. Gaz leaned back, popping her joints before heading to the trunk of the car where the camping supplies and camera equipment was. Zim took over, gathering it up and taking inventory of what they had brought along.

Just as before, everything was done without a word. No one really knew what to say. Gaz and Zim were giving Dib his space, and the latter still seemed to be at a loss. Driving hadn’t really cleared his head as he’d lamely claimed it would; it’d just made him more flustered.

Before long, they were off. The hike through the woods was only marginally less uncomfortable than the car ride had been, but the open air helped. Dib led the way, walking along the dimming trail as dusk settled in. The plan was to find a place to set up camp near the area where the Paulding Light supposedly made its appearance. Then, they’d hike again—this time under the cover of darkness—with the cameras rolling.

As the daylight slowly dissipated and the cool air settled in, Gaz paused to unhook her backpack from around her shoulders. Her jacket was inside, probably balled up beneath all the other crap she’d packed for this little excursion. Before she could even get her bag unzipped, though, Zim handed her his own sweatshirt.

She glanced up, and a wordless argument passed between them.

Now you’re going to be cold, her glare told him.

He gave her a challenging, almost haughty glance in return. Just put it on. I’m fine.

Gaz huffed a little and rolled her eyes, but ultimately acquiesced. She bunched it up and pulled it over her head. It was an overlarge navy hoodie with their college name and emblem branded on the front in bright, almost obnoxious yellow font. Zim had been wearing it almost religiously since October had arrived and the first freeze of the year had swept through their neighborhood.

When her face appeared at the neckline, she made brief accidental eye contact with Dib. He averted his eyes quickly. His mouth was still in that tight, thin line.

They continued on, walking until they’d found a suitable place to set up camp. Just as agonizingly silent as before, they set to tidying up the area, pulling out their sleeping bags, and taking inventory of the food they’d brought.

At this, Zim reached into one of the backpacks, eyes lighting up at a bag of jumbo marshmallows. Gaz slapped it away, all pretenses forgotten for a second. “Knock it off. We still have to film,” she said.

He snagged one anyway, popping it in his mouth defiantly before chuckling at her wavering attempt at a serious expression. They locked eyes for a moment, and then Gaz finally dropped it and began laughing along with him.

Dib cleared his throat.

They both turned and looked at him, smiles dropping instantly.

“Let’s get going,” he said, pushing his glasses up his nose and looking up at the smattering of stars up ahead. “You have the camera, Gaz?”

She nodded and held it up.

Dib did his best to not look behind him at Gaz and Zim as they walked on. Suddenly, any playful or even amicable interaction between them had taken on a whole new meaning. Because it wasn’tjust amicable.

Dating. They’re… dating.

It made him feel like the last few months had been a lie. It wasn’t just him, his sister, and his best friend anymore. It was him, his sister, and his sister’s boyfriend.

He visibly shuddered as he stepped over a fallen tree branch. Ugh, he didn’t want to think about that.

About a mile in, they began to hear running water. Sure enough, only about five minutes later they came upon a fallen tree that spanned about the width of the trail. Some quick observation showed that it was acting as a sort of bridge over a shallow stream about five or six feet below.

“I guess this is sturdy enough,” Dib muttered, testing the strength of the log. He peered over the edge at the water. At this point, night had fallen proper. A small slice of moon illuminated the sky, casting down on the stream. Dark water glinted here and there as it passed over rocks.

He began to walk over it, arms held out for balance. He hadn’t said much at all, despite Gaz currently filming. She held the camera up anyway, sighing inwardly.

What a waste this trip was. Who the hell would want to watch a video of Dib moodily wandering through the woods all night?

As for Zim, he had hardly uttered a word, either. And he was usually the comic relief of their little program. The fact that Zim was quiet wasn’t just bizarre; it was unsettling.

Zim stepped up on the log, followed by Gaz, who was still holding the camera out in front of herself. The disproportionate weight made her lose her balance for a moment, which was then exacerbated when the entire log rocked along with her. On instinct, Zim reached out and caught her by the wrist.

Dib turned, still halfway across their little bridge over the stream. He glanced at the two blankly. Then, his eyes narrowed. Even in the darkness, the intensity of his glare met Zim’s eyes.

“Would it kill you to not fondle my sister in the middle of the night while we’re trying to film?” Dib muttered.

“What are you talking about, Earth-stink?” It was clear Zim’s already-thin patience was running dry. These days, nearly a decade after arriving on earth, he only pulled out the immature nicknames when he on the verge of arguing.

Dib simply gesticulated at Zim’s hand, still grasping Gaz’s wrist. Zim looked at him incredulously and then let go of her.

“Dib…” Gaz growled, “You’re acting like an asshole.”

I’m acting like an asshole?!” he said, the hours of tension suddenly bubbling to the surface. “You’re the one who decided to… to…” He was at a loss for words.

Gaz darkened nonetheless, eyes glinting. “I didn’t ‘decide’ to do anything! And if I knew you were just going to sulk the whole time, I would have stayed the fuck home! Do I even have to remind you that I do this shit as a favor to you?” She waved the camera in front of her, and Dib paled at both her words and the prospect of it slipping from her grip and into the stream several feet below them. “Did it ever occur to you that maybe I didn’t even want to go camping right after my midterms?”

“A favor for me, sure!” Dib shot back. Maybe some people could be perfectly silent for hours on end and be perfectly calm. His temper had never allowed for that. He was speaking without thinking, and he could feel it. It still didn’t stop the word-vomit from coming. “You sure it’s a favor for me and not a favor for your little boyfriend over there?”

He gestured vaguely towards the “boyfriend” in question, who’s face was beginning to match Gaz’s. Before Zim could open his mouth, though, Gaz lunged forward, right into Dib’s face. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll shut the fuck up right now!”

The fallen tree they were balanced on began to rock a little, and Zim’s eyes went wide as he clambered to keep his footing. “Gaz—”

“Stay out of it, Zim!”

“I will not!” he shot back. “Not when you’re both acting like complete—”

He didn’t finish the sentence. The log rocked again, and this time, Gaz’s balance didn’t withstand. The little hand-held camcorder slipped from her grasp, and she instinctively lurched towards it with her hands outstretched. Zim, operating on the same instinct, tried to catch her again. His foot slipped out from under him along with a crumbling of tree bark that had split off the log

“W-woah!” Dib shouted. His eyes bulged from behind his glasses. He reached for both of them, catching the sleeve of Gaz’s hoodie and Zim’s arm to try to keep them from falling over the side. He only succeeded in making the sorry excuse for a bridge rock yet again. At that point, it seemed, the log decided it was no longer interested in keeping three fully grown adults upright and out of the water. It rocked, crumbled, and then slipped from where it had been wedged between the two ends of the hiking trail.

Dib, Zim, and Gaz went tumbling off. High, clipped shouts preceding their fall, then a series of splashing.

The water below was cold, but not terribly so. It was a shallow, slow-moving stream. Almost more of an inconvenience than anything. Even so, the drop was high enough that Dib landed on the balls of his feet, skidded out, and skinned both elbows as he fell clumsily onto his rump.

He groaned, cupping one scraped elbow in his palm. Already beginning to internally bemoan his soaking-wet clothes, he turned to Gaz. His anger was beginning to return to him in place of shock.

“Great. That’s a new camera down the fucking drain.”

Instead of an onslaught of choice words back at him, however, Gaz didn’t respond. She wasn’t even looking in his direction. Instead, she was turned away, hunched over something in the darkness. It took him a moment to realize what she was doing. At her feet, Zim’s body was lying halfway in the stream, completely motionless.

Gaz whipped around to look at Dib, soggy tendrils of hair stuck to her cheeks. She no longer looked angry. “I think he hit his head. Help me get him out of here!”

Dib’s eyes widened, and without thinking, he hurried around Gaz’s other side, grabbing Zim’s shoulder and hauling him to the grassy bank a few feet away. “Is he okay?” he shouted.

“I don’t know. Move!” She dropped to her knees in front of him. His wig sat like a sodden mop on his head, and she pulled it off before it could burn his scalp any more than it had. The worry she so evidently felt was plastered all over her face. Even in the darkness, Dib could see it. He was worried, too, but it was strange to see it so plainly on Gaz of all people. She had always been the more level-headed of the two, and seeing her normally morose, carefully composed poker-face fall away so quickly made Dib feel like he’d entered some alternate dimension.

Seconds later, Zim came around. With a moan, his eyelids fluttered open to reveal one contact and one overbright pink eye.

Gaz didn’t fuss or wring her hands, but she sighed noticeably in relief, then began asking him questions. (What is your name? Where are you right now?)

Zim answered in turn, seemingly fine. His hand wrapped around to the back of his head to absently massage at a growing bump, though. He groaned again and sat up.

“You need to get out of those clothes,” Dib said. He could hear a distant sizzling—the awful sound of water against Zim’s skin. Even in their days of mortal rivalry, that sound had always had a visceral effect that could pierce through any bluster and leave Dib cringing inwardly.

Gaz nodded her head in agreement. “Come on,” she said. She rose to her feet, then helped Zim up.

“I’m fine. This isn’t the first time this has happened on this filthy planet,” he muttered. The fire that had been in his voice just moments before had been snuffed out. He tugged at his soggy clothing and scratched at the rashes that were beginning to form on his arms and torso.

Before Dib had time to realize what was happening, they were walking ahead of him back to their camp. Gaz was leading the way this time. Zim managed to keep up, wincing in pain occasionally.

When they got back, Gaz beelined to Zim’s bags. While he ducked behind some brush and changed into new clothes, she pulled out a small first aid kit with the Irken insignia printed on the outside.

“He’ll need the—” Dib started. He stopped when he saw Gaz pull out the exact tube of antibiotic cream he had been about to gesture towards. She glanced at the Irken characters—Irken characters Dib hadn’t known she could read—and opened it.

“Can you hand me the bandages from your bag?” she asked.

Dib shot her a weird look but reached for the bandages anyway. “You know, his PAK heals him pretty quickly. I don’t think he even really needs them.”

“Yeah, but bandaging it up makes him whine about it less,” she said. She tried to hide the smile that had begun to form on her lips.

Dib handed it over and began to build a fire for the three of them.

Zim returned then, dressed in clean, dry clothes. While Gaz helped treat and bandage the worst of the burns, Dib kept silent. This time, however, it wasn’t out of whatever conglomerate of frustration he’d been feeling earlier. He was watching his sister coyly.

Gaz was not the maternal type. Throughout their entire lives, Gaz’s words and actions had been laced in a gruff sort of outer layer that warned others she was not to be trifled with. She kept her circle small and very rarely expressed any emotion other than cool apathy or outright anger.

The way she was acting towards Zim was a far cry from her normal self. Dib had only ever seen her like this on a handful of other occasions. When those memories drifted to him and he realized the common denominator, he suddenly felt uneasy. The tenderness in which she wrapped Zim’s forearm was with the same silent, admonishing tenderness she’d shown Dib when he’d gotten injured during his own idiotic exploits over the years.

Meanwhile, Zim sat slumped against a tree, letting her bandage him up without a fuss. While he was making an attempt at nonchalance, it was clear he was practically falling asleep where was sitting.

That was another little thing Gaz seemed to either know already or manage to take in stride: something about injuries made Zim unusually tired afterwards. For as long as Dib had known him, he’d been this way. Dib had deducted it was because his PAK was using more energy than usual, and Zim had more or less confirmed it. Even so, it was rather unsettling to see anyone sustain an injury and then drop off to sleep moments later like a narcoleptic.

That’s precisely what Zim was doing now, now. As soon as Gaz finished with the last bandage, she shook his shoulder to wake him. With the last of his energy, he shuffled to his sleeping bag and practically faceplanted onto it. Within seconds, he had dropped off to sleep.

Gaz patted his hand.

Dating, Dib thought yet again.

It was absurd. That was the only way he could put it. It didn’t make any sense. Almost…almost as absurd as the idea of him being friends with Zim in the first place.

He frowned and began to pull at the loose strings of a bracelet he’d worn on his wrist for the last year or so. Zim had an almost identical one that he, too, never removed.

Hadn’t there been a time when he couldn’t imagine himself being anything but Zim’s enemy? And now they were almost inseparable. If he could get used to that, why couldn’t he get used to this?

He glanced down at the bracelet and sighed. “You really care about him, don’t you?” he said finally.

Gaz glanced up, her face guarded. “I wouldn’t be with him if I didn’t.”

“And he treats you well?”

“What kind of stupid question is that?” She made a face, but it wasn’t entirely hostile. “I wouldn’t be with him if he didn’t.”

Dib’s eyes fell on Zim, who was snoring lightly. He didn’t doubt that. “Okay,” he said through another exhale.

“‘Okay,’ what?” Gaz said, raising a brow. “I don’t need your ‘blessing,’ Dib. I just want—”

“—No, no, no. I don’t mean it that way,” Dib said quickly, “I mean ‘okay,’ I will get used to this. And I’ll stop being such an asshole.” He quirked his lip upward in a humorless smile at the last part. “I’m sorry, Gaz. I could have handled that a lot better, and I didn’t.”

She pulled her knees to her chest and stared into the crackling fire. “Apology accepted.”

Zim began to stir then, one hand reaching out to scratch at his bandages.

“Hey, don’t do that,” Gaz said softly, taking the hand and moving it away. She made to rifle through their bags but was stopped when Zim’s hand closed around hers. He held her in place and began to murmur incoherently.

Gaz smiled; a sweet, serene smile Dib very rarely saw. “Just give me a minute,” she told Zim. She squeezed his hand and pulled away, unzipping the bag closest to her and retrieving what she was looking for—the marshmallows Zim had been after earlier.

She pressed one into his palm, and his fingers wrapped around it groggily.

Over the next hour, he slowly came out of whatever fog his PAK had put him through as it worked to heal him. By morning, the irritated rashes from the water would be gone and the bump on his head would be nothing but a distant memory.

Not for the first time, Dib thought about how strange Irkens were.

Over the rest of the night, the three gathered around the fire, roasting marshmallows. Even through the lulls in conversation, the tension that had practically been a permanent fixture earlier was gone. Instead, they slipped into their new dynamic. A dynamic that was, as Dib had claimed, absurd. But when hadn’t it been? Not when Zim had first arrived on Earth. Not when years and events had passed them by, and enmity had melded to friendship. And not now.

Absurdity was their specialty, and they were learning to wear it proudly.

~The End~

[libermachinae]

Lost Light/Rodimus

Notes: No, I don’t mean the crew. Unedited bc I’ve already spent way more time on this crack fic than I meant to. Rated G, no warnings apply, 2K.

---

It wasn’t Brainstorm’s fault, entirely.

“How the hell did you make a metrotitan spark?”

Just mostly.

“Well, it’s actually an extremely complicated, delicate, precise procedure,” Brainstorm said as they ran for their lives through shifting, narrowing corridors, Rodimus’ engine gunning to keep up with the jet. “It’s something other scientists have been trying to crack since before the war started, but between the exact measurements of the photonic supercrystal and the pattern of coding charges, no one else ever managed to—”

“Okay, forget how!” Rodimus shouted. “I don’t care about how! Or why! Or even at what point you decided to make a massive t-cog to go with it—”

“Actually, Perceptor cracked that one.”

“—or how you got it past Riptide and the rest of security! I don’t care!” A wall appeared front of them; Rodimus swerved around it while Brainstorm pulled into a neat roll. A wingtip brushed Rodimus’ roof. “Assuming we survive this any other way than First Aid scraping our pancaked frames off a random corridor wall, you’re going to tell the whole story to Megatron, and he can use all the practice he’s had with me to tell you exactly how terrible an idea this was.”

“Pancaked?”

“Earth term. Watch out!”

The hallway to the shuttle bay disappeared behind two shifting plates, and Rodimus had just enough time to brake and avoid being crushed. Brainstorm pulled up and transformed, landing at Rodimus’ side.

“Oh, this isn’t good,” he said.

“No kidding?” Rodimus angled his mirrors to look around, but every glance just revealed fewer directions to escape to. “We’re trapped.”

“Not that,” Brainstorm said. “We’re in the abdomen.”

“Belly of the ship, sure.”

“In root mode, the Lost Light’s power core is situated in the lower decks, under multiple layers of plating and insulation to keep the heat from frying everyone around it.” Brainstorm traced a small circle on the plating just underneath his cockpit, then drew it up, toward his chest. “When Perceptor was designing the transformation sequence, though, we couldn’t quite work out how to transport the core with all its extra plating. So, we just, hm, put a pin in it.”

Rodimus stared.

“So, what you’re saying is—”

Brainstorm pointed to the ceiling.

“The power core is one level above us right now. As soon as the transformation sequence is completed, it’s going to come online. The Lost Light’s designed to handle that kind of output, but not standard Cybertronians.”

“So, right now, this moment, we’re standing in the smelter, waiting for it to come on.”

“More like in front of the smelter after the blast doors have malfunctioned, but yeah.”

“Okay!” Rodimus revved his engine. “Well, that’s no good! We’re getting out of here.” He glanced around again. The walls were thick, but there had to be a weakness somewhere. “Don’t you have a drill gun? Or a drill you reformatted into a gun that can still be used as a drill?”

“I have a regular gun.”

“You do not.”

“I do!” Brainstorm insisted, pulling the standard issue pistol from subspace. “I was just about to see if I could do something about the problem of a finite ammo capacity (spoiler, I could’ve) when Light’s t-cog started spinning. I have others on me, but nothing that’s gotten the Perceptor stamp yet.”

“Everything else you’ve got will kill us if we fire it?”

“Might,” Brainstorm corrected, “they might kill you. Percy just hasn’t had time to test them yet.”

“Okay, fine.” Rodimus glanced around once more, optics falling on one feature he’d thus far overlooked. “You know what? We can work with this.”

  It’s a simple fact that if you’re desperate to have floor-to-ceiling windows along the vehicle-accessible corridors of your miles-wide spaceship, they’re going to need to be reinforced. Heavily. A full round of shots fired at point-blank from a non-infinite pistol might be enough to get a crack in it, but that’s about it.

Of course, if you then ram that crack with a Matrix-armored sports car dropped from the undercarriage of a speeding jet, you might get somewhere.

Rodimus hit the window bumper-first, vibrations from the impact traveling in both directions throughout his frame. Whatever he was feeling, though, the window was having a much worse time: the crack stretched and exploded, shards of glass whipping out into the empty density of space. Rodimus went with them, and for a brief second he feared he would never stop going, before strong arms and the sound of thrusters secured him.

::We’re alive!:: Brainstorm’s comm crackled to life in his audial. ::And assuming at least a couple people listened to Minimus’ instructions, we should be looking at a good—oh frag.::

::What? How bad is it?:: Rodimus tried to angle his mirrors, but two teal wings blocked his view.

::It’s fine! Don’t worry!::

::That’s my ship, Brainstorm, of course I’m going to worry!::

::It’s alright, Rodimus.::

::Who was—::

A white hand appeared in front of them, large enough that Rodimus could have done donuts on its palm, large enough to punch a moon clear through. Brainstorm’s thrusters were straining to slow them down while Rodimus’ emergency brake slammed on, but momentum seemed committed to mashing them like a reverse rustbug.

The hand shifted, flipping over so the palm was underneath Rodimus, scooping up until his tires were just skidding across the metal surface. Forgetting to release his brake, his swerved before he came to a stop, swinging around and taking in the full view of his ship as, with a final ripple, her plating shifted into place.

She glowed. From the fuel rods around the corona of her helm and the winding lanes of windows around her arms, legs, and sides, light streamed from her, but not so much that she hurt to look at. Her optic band was a solid magenta and, Rodimus suspected, unseeing, but even that gave off a light that drew the eye, even as Rodimus felt the increased pressure of the hand lifting them up. In their ascent, they passed her chestpiece, the bow of the ship, and through the viewscreen Rodimus saw a decent portion of his crew, staring back out at him.

They came to a halt in front of her faceplate, and from this distance Rodimus could see the wavering patterns of optical lights, perhaps attempting to generate an expression. Ratchet would demand a look at Perceptor’s coding, he thought, a moment before the Lost Light’s voice returned.

::Hello, Rodimus, Brainstorm.::

::You gave her a comm suite?:: Rodimus asked, glancing at Brainstorm.

::Didn’t you check the ident?:: Brainstorm returned. ::She’s using the communications hub.::

::Oh.:: He glanced at her again. ::Can you access all of our major systems like that?::

::Yes.::

::Cool. Neat.:: An independent Cybertronian with the ability to quantum jump. And they’d been doing so well staying off the bad side of this reality’s Galactic Council.

::Do you have a name?:: he asked.

The optic lights wavered, shifting without meaning.

::Of course,:: she said. ::Drift named me Lost Light.::

Rodimus spluttered.

::How do you know that?::

::I have complete access to all in-network records,:: she said. ::My ‘memories’ extend as far back as my registration five million years ago, though they become more comprehensive within the last several decades, starting with the commencement of your quest.::

::Anything anyone ever dispersed via in-house networks, saved to a private console, or was automatically logged by the systems is up for grabs,:: Brainstorm said. ::Makes introductions pretty simple, at least.::

::Sounds like a fancy way of saying she’s got the worst possible first impression of everyone, but sure, that’s an optimistic way of looking at it.:: Brainstorm had climbed off him, so he transformed and took two steps forward. ::I’m Rodimus, your co-captain. Though, you already seem to know that.::

::Yes. I know all of you.:: For a moment, Rodimus thought they were moving again, but it was the large helm tilting forward. ::Thank you, by the way, Brainstorm. Though I unfortunately agree with Minimus Ambus’ preliminary assessment of your actions, I do appreciate this opportunity to be alive.::

::Like creator, like creation, I guess!::

::Wait, you talked with Minimus?:: Rodimus asked.

::Of course. I’m speaking to everyone right now,:: Lost Light said. ::I’ve been looking forward to this.::

::Wow. You’re either going to be Swerve and Misfire’s missing trinemate, or their biggest competition.::

::I do not find either of those options appealing.::

::Oh, yeah, that’s fine!:: He waved his hands. ::Just a joke. You can do whatever you want, now, you’re your own bot. Well, within reason, I guess. We might need to make another new officer position for you, and then—::

::I will continue to perform my duties, Rodimus. You have no need to worry in that regard.::

::Oh, good.:: Rodimus’ spoiler sagged and a few bubbles of trapped air escape his vents. Brainstorm’s scheme hadn’t dehomed them, at least.

::If you wouldn’t mind hearing it, I do have a request.::

Rodimus’ spoiler twitched back up.

::Sure!:: he said. ::After everything we’ve put you through, we owe you, huh?::

::I would prefer you not consider it that way,:: she said. The connection crystalized and strengthened into a private transfer as Lost Light cleaved Brainstorm into his own channel. ::After reviewing the records, I find I admire you, Rodimus.::

He stared.

::Oh?::

::Despite what you call a poor first impression, I have observed a crew that cares for each other and looks after its most vulnerable, with you as the spark that inspires such communal behavior. You act for the good of others, you encourage selflessness and self-improvement. Does that sound correct?::

There was nothing to hide behind on the palm of her hand. That observation could not kill Rodimus’ instinct to flee.

::I, uh. I don’t know?::

A flicker around the optic band again.

::Oh. My apologies. I have only just started to engage in pattern recognition, and it is possible my assessment is—::

::It’s fine!:: Rodimus assured. ::Sorry, you did fine. Um, yeah, I guess you could say all those things about me. Not everyone would, but if that’s what the logs are telling you, you should trust your instincts. Maybe just like, make sure to update them with your own observations?::

::Acknowledged.:: There was a pause, and Rodimus imagined she was sorting the suggestion among her priority trees. ::I will maintain my assessments as an ongoing process. However, if I am utilizing my initial understanding of each crew member as a basis to form a more informed conception of their character, then it is logical to assume that there must be some element of validity to my initial evaluations, correct?::

::Uh, sure?::

::Excellent.:: Her whole visor brightened, a straightforward positive that must have been easier for her programming to calculate than the emotions it had been trying to convey before. ::Then it is not unreasonable for me to hold to my initial conviction that I admire you, Rodimus. If you have time, I would like to get to know you better.::

::Huh. Uh.:: He hated to make assumptions, but the way her visor sparkled seemed more coordinated now. ::Can you give me one moment?::

::Of course.::

He hopped into a channel so well worn it felt like sinking into his own thoughts.

::Rodimus? Are you okay?::

::I’m fine, Drift,:: he said. ::Just, uh, need some advice.::

::Just advice? Not a rescue? Rewind and Perceptor managed to map out a way down to the shuttle bay, if you need an out.::

::No, no,:: he insisted. ::I’m just… I really don’t want to assume anything, but I think it’s possible my ship just asked me out?::

::Oh, yeah.::

::Oh, yeah?::

::I mean, she did,:: Drift said. ::Before you and Brainstorm broke free, she commed everyone, introduced herself, told them her favorite thing she knew about them, then asked about you.::

::Do I… want to know what she asked about?::

::Depended on the person. Swerve got interrogated about whether you’re available.::

::Swerve?::

::The Lost Light Insider pegged him for a rumor monger and she ran with it.::

::Cool. Great.::

::Hey. Really, you okay up there? Tailgate’s halfway through the vents, we can come get you, if you need.::

Rodimus pointed his gaze down to the deck, though he was too far away to see anyone individually. It was possible the ship’s exterior cameras were still streaming to the command screens, in which case Drift would undoubtedly catch his disapproval.

::Please make sure Tailgate doesn’t get squished, I don’t need Cyclonus seeking vengeance against our ship.::

::Sure. But seriously, Rodimus, are you okay?::

Rodimus spun his wheels with a flick.

::I’m fine. I just… isn’t this, I don’t know, kind of taking advantage?::

::I mean, she asked you, and—wait, are you interested?::

His engine heated up and Rodimus started to pace.

::I don’t know! Maybe?::

::Aw, Rodimus!:: He could imagine Drift’s face: goofy smile, softly dimmed optics. ::Hang on, I’m patching Ratchet in.::

::No, hang on, you don’t have to—::

::You’re saying yes?:: Ratchet demanded as the new connection crackled through.

::I don’t know,:: Rodimus insisted. ::I could? She’s attractive. And she knows a lot about me and hasn’t decided I’m worthless slag.::

::Rodimus,:: Drift chided.

::Hey, look, I’m not saying that about myself,:: he countered. ::Just that it’s a conclusion she could have come to, but didn’t. And I guess I kind of like that?:: He shrugged. ::I wouldn’t mind getting to know her. First new Cybertronian we’ll meet for a long time, you know?::

::Sure,:: Ratchet said. ::Follow her lead, but be up front about your expectations.::

::Both of you will have bots looking out for you,:: Drift promised. ::Seems like she and Nautica are already hitting it off pretty well.::

::Alright.:: Rodimus smiled. ::Okay, thanks guys. I think I can handle it from here.::

::Sure you can,:: Drift said.

Rodimus cut the call and switched back to Lost Light’s channel. Brainstorm was wandering around behind him, still engaged in his own animated conversation with his creation.

::Still with me?:: he asked.

::Of course.::

::Great,:: he said, offering her a smile and a flicker of his headlights. ::So, yeah, I’m down to spend more time together.:: He leaned down until he was sitting, crosslegged, on her open palm, brushing the smooth metal with his own hand. ::You can tell me all about what it was like that time we were getting chased by space pirates.::

::I look forward to it,:: she said. The platform of her hand drifted closer, until Rodimus could have reached out and brushed his fingertips against his facemask. He could have felt afraid, then, but he didn’t. Instead, he felt a warm light in his spark as he regarded Light, the familiarity and comfort that came with meeting an old friend face to face for the first time.

[fancytrinkets]

only one bed (trevelyan/dorian)

"Might I warn you," the bartender says, "it's not a wide bed, my lord. Unless you have — well, like a husband and wife situation going on — you will want both cots." The man glances from Trevelyan to Cassandra. He looks skeptical, as though failing in his attempt to imagine Cassandra as anyone's wife. Trevelyan sighs.

They arrive at the small crossroads village just before sunset, as Cassandra said they would. After they've paid to stable and feed the horses, they make their way to the tavern, which doubles as an inn. It looks old, but well kept. And there doesn't appear to be a dedicated innkeeper, so Trevelyan shrugs and heads directly to the bar. With Cassandra and Dorian beside him, he speaks to the bartender and inquires about a pair of rooms.

"For tonight, my lord?" the man asks.

He doesn't seem to recognize them as three of the Inquisition's elite. Instead, he applies the honorific based on clothing alone. Even battle-stained and dusty from the road, there's no denying the richness of their robes and armor.

"Yes, for tonight," Trevelyan says. "We leave in the morning."

"I'm afraid there's only one room left, my lord. And just the one bed."

"We'll take it," Cassandra says. "That's better than nothing."

Trevelyan nods, agreeing with her. It's not as if they haven't all shared the same tent on nights when the rain comes pouring down around them. A shared room indoors, no matter how cramped, should be far more comfortable than that.

"I can have a couple of cots brought up for you, if that will do?" the man offers.

"One cot," Trevelyan says.

Despite having kept some distance these past few days, he does expect to share the bed with Dorian. That's what they do, after all, whenever a bed is available. Although they won't be intimately involved — not with Cassandra present — it will still be comforting to sleep side by side.

"Might I warn you," the bartender says, "it's not a wide bed, my lord. Unless you have — well, like a husband and wife situation going on — you will want both cots."

The man glances from Trevelyan to Cassandra. He looks skeptical, as though failing in his attempt to imagine Cassandra as anyone's wife.

Trevelyan sighs.

He's tired and doesn't wish to keep the conversation going. It's easier to agree. And besides, if the bed truly is uncomfortably narrow, then they really might make use of a second cot.

"Both then, thanks," he says.

But he does want to make it clear to the bartender that his assumption is neither warranted nor appreciated. So he turns to Dorian and touches his arm — gently, in a trailing caress, with no chance of anyone mistaking it for something other than an intimate gesture.

"An extra cot. Think of it, love, you can kick me out of bed if I misbehave."

Dorian, whose expression seemed blank and unreadable, now perks up at this. He smiles, warm and genuine, and when his gaze shifts, reflecting firelight, his eyes seem to sparkle with mischief.

"Oh, but I like it when you misbehave."

Hearing all this, the bartender winces, likely in self-chastisement — or so Trevelyan judges based upon the man's next words.

"Ah, begging your pardon, my lord. I should not have made an assumption about a guest and their sleeping arrangements."

"Don't worry about it."

Nine out ten times, no doubt, the man would have been right. And no matter what it seems, Trevelyan doesn't take pleasure in correcting him. Most of all, he wanted to signal to Dorian that what they are to each other isn't something he ever intends to hide.

And Dorian does seem to appreciate it. His smile lingers all the way up the stairs as they follow a serving girl who leads them to their room. She bids them to wait with the door open until she returns. When she does, she's carrying a cot — a simple wooden frame with a hide stretched tightly across it. As she unfolds it in the room, another young person follows behind her to deliver the second.

"There you are, my lord," she says. "Enjoy your stay. Call on us if you need anything."

Trevelyan thanks her as she takes her leave. He starts to shut the door behind her when Cassandra catches hold of it and stops him.

"I'm going downstairs to eat and talk to the locals," she says. "I'll be back in an hour. Make use of your time however you like, but don't you dare let me walk in on anything I don't wish to see."

Trevelyan's too slow to answer, still trying to make sense of what Cassandra's suggesting. Dorian, on the other hand, speaks up right away.

"Care to specify, please?" he asks. "How is anyone to know what you do or don't wish to–"

"Enough!" Cassandra says. "One hour."

She holds up her index finger, probably to emphasize the amount of time that she's giving them to indulge in each other. Instead it looks like a warning meant mostly for Dorian. She glares at him a moment longer before she leaves, shutting the door behind her.

[nsfw below]

Once she's gone, Dorian grins as he turns towards Trevelyan and steps forward into an embrace.

"Amatus," he says, "I have you all to myself again. For a little while, at least."

"I've missed you," Trevelyan says, aware that he's probably being ridiculous and overly sentimental. They've been traveling together for days.

"I haven't gone far." Dorian sniffs, and then wrinkles his nose. "But you smell awful. Ugh, and so do I. Gurgut and horse."

He breaks away and crosses the room, heading for a shelf away from the window. On top rests a small metal basin filled with water for washing up. Dorian peers down at it, inspecting carefully.

"It looks clean, at least," he says, "but around here who can tell?"

He touches the surface, gently so as not to break the surface tension, and channels a fire spell strong enough to heat it to boiling. He pulls his hand away, and for a moment he watches the steam rise. Then he casts a cold spell, chilling it back down to a reasonable warmth for bathing.

"Poor substitute for a bath," he says. "Best we've got, I suppose."

And he's right, Trevelyan thinks. Soaking together in the heat of a bath back at Skyhold does sound more appealing than this. And yet once they get started, there's an intimacy to be found in stripping down, hanging their clothes to air them out, and then attacking each other — albeit gently — with wash cloths.

"I think that's dragon's blood on your thigh," Dorian says, and his brow furrows as he wipes it away. "How did you manage that? Did you slay it with your breeches off and I didn't notice?"

"They're torn," Trevelyan says. "Snagged on a branch or something. Good thing we'll be in Val Royeaux in a couple of days."

"Oh, shopping," Dorian says, smiling with delighted anticipation. "Yes, let's do that."

As they talk, they stand close together, fully naked. They each take turns dipping their wash cloth into the basin to thoroughly wet their skin. To clean, they use a small, lightly-scented square of soap, which Dorian took from among his own things — rather than let either of them use the yellowed crust of whatever soap the inn could last afford. And then they rinse it all away with wash cloths once again. The floor gets wet, but not too much.

"There's a certain rustic charm in this, I'll admit," Dorian says.

He's looking down, fascinated and becoming aroused as Trevelyan very gently takes hold of him to wash between his legs. After that, kissing and caressing becomes part of the bath — and to Trevelyan it feels just as vital as the soap and water. The cleaner they get, the more their arousal escalates, until they're stroking each other — separately at first and then rubbing themselves together.

"Water's no good for this," Trevelyan whispers.

"No, it isn't," Dorian agrees.

Still damp from bathing, they fall back to the bed. Dorian — so perfect and brilliant of him — has acquired a little bottle of oil, taken from the same leather pouch as the soap. He pours some into both of their hands and then it doesn't take long for either of them. Trevelyan sits across Dorian's thighs, straddling him to press their cocks together and stroke them both as the tightness builds and builds.

Release comes quick and messy.

It sends them back to the wash basin, but this time with a better chance of focusing solely on the task of cleaning.

[rohad93]

Moonlit Masquerade: Sandcastles  Final

The final part of MM: Sandcastles its 2:30 am so just excuse any mistakes in it for now.

She doesn’t really want to go to the beach house with the twins.

She’d much rather spend it with Luz, but since Luz is busy and it would be depressing to sit at home alone all weekend, and on her birthday no less, she relents. The two practically beg her to come with them anyway, which is strange, but she knows they still feel bad about the hair thing from a couple of weeks ago, and are looking to make up for their teasing her about it, so with few other appealing options, she agrees.

They get off the Boiling Isles version of public transport at the closest town to the beach and from there it’s a short ten-minute walk to the Blight family’s vacation home.

Though it’s mostly only used when their parent’s really want to show off to people, most of the year it sits empty.

“Ah, don’t have such a long face, Mittens,” her brother starts. “Maybe Luz couldn’t come with you to the house, but that doesn’t mean you won’t have a good time.” He smiles at her and there is something suspiciously knowing about it, she knows her siblings, they’re planning something, but she hasn’t the slightest clue what it could be.

The pranks are still quite present, but to a much smaller degree since the ‘library incident’ as it’s now referred to, so she’s not particularly worried about that; her siblings are just acting strange.

They’ve been sneaking around and having hushed conversations; last night she’d passed by Edric’s closed bedroom door and overheard some of their muffled conversations by chance.  

“Luz is sneakier than I gave her credit for,” Her sister laughed. She hears her brother’s muffled voice but can’t clearly hear what he’s saying. “I trust her, I’m sure she has it all taken care of, I can’t wait to see Mitten’s face,” Emira speaks again, and then it’s too muffled to hear anything else, try as she might. That one little comment set off warning bells in her head.

Luz was doing something with her sibling, but what could it have to do with her?

By the sound of it, all Luz’s sudden absences during the week make sense if Ed and Em have her sneaking around doing something, which worries her. Her siblings can be quite devious when they want to be and sometimes even when they aren’t trying, their pranks sometimes tend to backfire spectacularly. She worries that Luz may be in over her head, that, and she’d lied to her about Eda needing her help. The only reason she would do that she can guess at is that the twins have her doing something she wouldn’t approve of, which makes her head spin with worrying possibilities. She knows Luz would never help her siblings pull some kind of mean spirited prank on her; not intentionally at least.

She hadn’t intentionally been part of the debacle with her diary that night in the library either, but it had happened. Her stomach twists up and she frowns. Ed and Em know how much Luz means to her and she can’t imagine them doing something, now that is, that could end with Luz hurting her in some way.

She’s missing something but she can’t for the life of her figure it out. It’s the blue moon masquerade all over again. Luz and her siblings are collaborating again. Not that that had turned out bad in the end, not at all, but the twins are unpredictable and Luz is an unstoppable ball of energy when the mood strikes her. Amity loves that exuberant energy when it’s channeled in the correct direction that is.

They round the bend and the house comes into view.

It’s large, just like their everyday home, in the gothic style the Blight family is known for and sits only about thirty yards from the sand and water of the beach.

“Ah, sweet, parentless solitude!” Edric grins as they walk around the house to the front door with their bags.

“Ready for an awesome birthday weekend, Mittens?” Emira nudges Amity playfully with her hip and grins.

“What’s going to be so awesome about it?” Amity grumbles, crossing her arms, missing the looks the twins throw each other over her head, they are living for this; knowing what’s coming.

“You sure are grumpy without your daily dose of Luz,” her brother teases, and Amity pinks, growling at him, her sharp eye teeth poking out from between her lips, but doesn’t say anything though.

There’s no point, they all know it’s true  and she won’t do their relationship the disservice of denying it. She’s wrankled because she’s here with just the twins when she’d really hoped Luz would be able to come with them, and they know it.

Add in that something is going on with her girlfriend and siblings and she hasn’t the slightest clue, does not put her in the best mood.

“Hey, I bet Ed and I can give you the best birthday you ever had.” Emira smiles at her and Amity can tell it’s genuine.  

“I doubt it,” Amity mumbles, making her sister frown and she feels bad immediately after. The twins are trying, they are, which is more than she can say about their parents.

She stops a few feet from the door, looking down at her feet and the twins both look at her.

“I’m sorry… I’m being a jerk…,” she finally says, and the twins share mirrored looks of surprise. “I just… we only have a few minutes before school and a couple of hours after, and we can’t be seen out together in public much or mom and dad would find out, and then after what happened at the owl house someone is always checking up on us…,” she trails off.  “I was just really hoping she would be able to come this weekend so we could hang out without worrying about anything… I really wanted her to be here for my birthday… which I didn’t even tell her about…,” she sighs.

When she looks back up the twins are looking at her with identical, sympathetic faces.

“Hey, it’s okay, Amity.” Emira wraps an arm around her shoulder. “We can’t imagine how hard it must be to have to hide it all the time.” She squeezed.

“Yeah, don’t worry about it… it’s not like we’ve never been jerks to you!” he chuckled. “But, uh…, why didn’t you tell her about your birthday?” he asks what both twins have been wondering since Luz revealed she didn’t know.

Amity frowns at the question and fingers the hem of her shirt

“I guess I just… didn’t want to explain the stuff about our birthdays to her. I know she feels bad about a lot of the stuff that goes on at home already, I didn’t want to give her another reason to worry about me, or do something totally overboard,” she huffs a small laugh but it quickly dies in her throat and she chews on her lips before looking up at the twins who for once are looking at her with patient, understanding.

“Sometimes… I just feel so overwhelmed by all her affection, like I don’t deserve it…,” she barely gets to finish before both twins have their arms wrapped around her.

“Of course you do.” Emira squeezes her tightly. “Maybe you can be a stick in the mud sometimes…”

“But you’re our stick in the mud,” Edric finishes. “And we bet Luz would say the same thing.”  

"Yeah, she’s lucky to have you,” Emira agrees.

Amity’s cheeks are pink but she can’t help but smile as her brother and sister squeeze her between them.

They finally let go and stand back.

“We know how much you wanted Luz to come with us, but don’t worry, this is gonna be the best birthday you ever had, we made sure of it,” her brother assures, and the twins smile, not their usually coy or playful smiles, but ones of genuine affection for Amity, who can’t help but smile back.

“Okay…” she takes a step forward but her sister holds her back.

“One more thing…,” Emira says, her smile turning into a grin. “What happened at the owl house that makes the owl lady have to check up on you two?”

Amity’s face turns blood red.

“Nothing! Nothing happened at the owl house!”

The twins share knowing grins.

“It sure sounds like something happened…,” Edric sing-songs and Amity scowls.

“I’m going inside!” Amity spins on her heel and opens the door and the twins follow her in, still grinning. They’ll just have to interrogate Luz later. They promised themselves they wouldn’t tease Amity this weekend… much.

The house is pitch black, save for the shaft of light coming in from the open door to light the entryway. The curtains are all drawn closed, keeping out the sunlight.

Ed and Em close the door behind her and it’s truly dark for a second before somewhere in front of her she sees a blue and green spell circle blink into existence for a brief second before all the lights are lit.

“Surprise!” Confetti is flying everywhere.  

Amity jumps as Willow, Gus, Luz, and the twins yell.

“Wha- what…?” she stares at them wide-eyed.

“Happy birthday Amity!”  The three standing in front of her shout.

Amity just stands there, mouth hanging open.

“I think she was surprised,” Edric laughs from behind her.

“I do believe your right,” Emira agrees.

“What is this?” She blinks, wide, gold eyes as she looks around, confetti in her hair. The room is decorated with streamers and balloons.

“Your surprise birthday party, duh!” The twins laugh at Amity’s shocked face. They are quite pleased with themselves.

Willow and Gus both run up and hug their bewildered friend. Luz hangs back, still grinning and watching her girlfriend’s shocked face. She knows her turn will come, she’s glad to watch for the moment, even as she vibrates with energy.

“I…,” Amity mumbles finally when it sets in what is happening as her friends hug her. Her lip trembles and she doesn’t even realize she’s crying till it’s hard to see through the tears. She squeezes both Gus and Willow who are still grinning madly and laughing.

They finally let her go as Luz walks up.

“Soooo, are you surprised?” she asks, grinning from ear to ear and only just manages to steady herself as Amity throws herself at her with a choked cry, arms wrapping around her.

“It’s a party, don’t cry, mi amor,” she chuckles quietly, running a hand soothingly up and down Amity’s back.

“I’m just… really happy…,” she hiccups into Luz’s shoulder. She pulls back and wipes at her face but she’s smiling so brightly it makes Luz’s chest tight to see her so happy

“How did you…?” she trails off, still sniffling.

“It was all Ed and Em’s idea.” Luz nodded to the twins, giving credit where it’s due, looking back at the twins who were grinning at them; when Amity turned around to look at them, they wink.

It’s the twins turn to get wrapped in Amity’s arms, an arm slung around each of their waists as she squeezes them for all she’s worth, face buried in their chests.

“I love you.” only the twins can hear her muffled words. They squeeze her back, a head-on each side of hers.

“We love you too,” is quietly mumbled in stereo into her ears.

“Are we going to party or not?!” Gus finally asks, throwing up his hands when the siblings have separated.

“Yeah!” Luz whoops.

They quickly get settled in, putting away their bags and retreating to the strip of beach that makes up the backyard.

There’s a net stretched between two poles stuck in the sand and the Blight siblings notice it immediately.

“What is that?” Edric cocks his head curiously.

"It’s a net. It’s for a game I’m going to teach you guys called volleyball.” Luz explains, holding up a grudgby ball. It was the closest thing she could find to a volleyball and was of a similar tough, but giving, material.

Luz explains the rules and they have a few practice rounds before they decide to play a game.

“Who is going to be on the teams?” Willow looks around at them.

“We could play boys vs girls,” Gus suggests.

“That would make the teams four versus two though.” Emira points out.

“We’ll take Luz.” Edric wraps an arm around the human’s shoulders and Gus nods his approval, while Luz just blinks as the guys drag her to them.

“Why do you get Luz?” Amity is quick to protest.

“Because, she’s good with girls, and looks dashing in a suit.” He holds up a finger for each reason. “What else do you need? She’s one of us,” he explains with a smirk. Emira rolls her eyes at her brother and Amity grumbles while Willow can only watch, chuckling.

“It’s cool, I’ll play with the guys,” she agrees. “Let’s get this game started, I’ll serve!” Luz runs to her position and everyone else moves into place.

They’ve been blessed by the last lingering whispering dregs of summer and the day is quite warm.

Especially as they run around in the sun, screaming and laughing as they chase the ball and trash talk across the court Luz has drawn with a stick in the sand.

“That was so in!” Emira yells.

“In your dreams!” Gus yells back.

They only have to break up a few arguments, usually between some combination of the Blight siblings, though Gus and Willow will argue a call too.

Luz is just glad they all seem to be having a good time.

She knew Amity was athletic and could be very competitive, but actually watching her play, and a game without magic at that is a different experience altogether. She’ll jump and dive at any given opportunity to score or keep their shots from scoring.

The timer on Luz’s phone is ticking down to the final minutes. The next shot will decide the winner and Ed is serving.  

He smacks it in the air and Willow meets it, passing it over to Amity who sends it flying back over the net.

“I got it!” Gus shouts diving forward into the sand and sending it back over before Amity’s shot can land.

Luz watches the ball fly over the net but her eyes land on Amity who is grinning brightly as they play, and she can’t help smile stupidly, glad Amity is having so much fun.

She’s too busy gawking at her girlfriend instead of watching the ball and especially not Emira, who jumps up at the net to intercept Gus’s shot and with a loud smack spikes it over the net.

Luz sees Amity’s eyes turn to her just before the ball smacks her straight in the face and it all goes black for a second.

“Luz!” Several people are yelling her name as her back hits the sand.

Her eyes squint open, the bright sun glaring down at her.

Then there’s a shadow over her, blocking it out. Amity’s scared and worried face comes into view, followed closely by everyone else.

“Luz, are you okay?” Willow asks.

“Ow…,” Luz mumbles, and then her friends are helping her sit up.

“I’m sorry!” Emira quickly says.

“I'm… okay… just kinda dazed…” she smiles reassuringly, though it looks a little more like a grimace as they help her to her feet.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Amity is gently running her fingers over her face as though looking for a fracture or something.

“I’m fine, Amity,” she says, shooing her hands away, though her face does smart, she’s not going to tell Amity that.

“Good… in that case, we won!” Emira cheers with a grin and the boys squawk at that.

“That doesn’t count!” Edric stomps.

“Injuring a member of the other team does not count!” Gus agrees.

“It hit the ground.” Emira sticks her tongue out.

“It did hit the ground inbounds,” Willow agrees.

“After it bounced off Luz’s face!” Edric fumes.

Amity rolls her eyes at all of them and turns her attention back to Luz as she stands, brushing sand off her shorts.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” she asks.

“No harm!” Luz grins. “Not the first time someone hit me in the face with a ball, and it probably won’t be the last.”  

“Let’s try to keep it to a minimum anyway though,” she smirks, crossing her arms. “Try watching the ball and not me,” she says quietly, so only Luz hears as the other four squabble about who won.

Luz chuckles while Amity looks at her knowingly.

"No promises, Hermosa.” Luz winks.

Amity knows that word from her Spanish to English dictionary and Luz knows she does by the way she flushes red, which makes her snicker.

The girls finally claim victory when Luz agrees with them that the ball hit in bounds, regardless of whether or not it bounced off her face first. The boys look betrayed for all of a few seconds, but concede, she’s the injured party here, and she knows the rules.

Though that doesn’t stop Edric from coughing ‘whipped’ into his hand, which fools no one and only makes Luz blush and Amity scowl; everyone else just grins or smothers their laughter

Edric quickly issues a challenge for a rematch, though this time it’s the Blight siblings versus the friend squad, and they give as good as they get, but the Blights are overwhelmingly victorious in the end.

They hang out on the beach and play for a while until the twins decide it’s time to start cooking dinner.

Luz uses a fire glyph to start the fire pit sitting in the sand and the twins go back up to the house to collect the things they need. Willow volunteers to go with them to help carry stuff back down.

“I’ll stay here with…,” Gus starts but Willow grabs his arm and drags him along with her after the twins.

“You’ll come with me.”

“But…,” he protests as the plant witch drags him away.

Amity chuckles at it. 'Very smooth, Willow…’ she thinks fondly as she plops down into the sand next to Luz, who smiles at her.

“Having a good time?” she asks and Amity wraps an arm around Luz’s as they sit shoulder to shoulder.

“The best.” She nods, setting her cheek on the human’s shoulder. “This is the best birthday I ever had.”

“Well, there’s still more to come.” She beams. “Which reminds me, why the heck didn’t you tell me tomorrow was your birthday!?” She throws her free arm up. Amity grimaces, turning her face away and sighs.

“I’m sorry, Luz,” she says. “I just know you worry about the stuff that happens at home and I didn’t want to add the mess that is our birthdays onto that. It’s not a big deal, I just didn’t want you to worry about it.”

“I know you don’t want me to worry, but I’m gonna anyway, and I worry more when I find out stuff like this from Ed and Em instead of you, so you shoulda just told me. We talked about this…,” she said quietly, frowning.

“I know, I know, I’m sorry. I just didn’t think my birthday was anything to be concerned about, but I knew you would be, It’s not a big deal.”

“It’s a big deal to me! I for one am glad you were born!” she says and Amity smiles at that.

“…I also didn’t want you to go overboard trying to make up the difference…,” she adds.

“But going overboard is what I do!” Luz grins, much to proud of that, and Amity rolls her eyes but smiles fondly at her.

“I know you do. It’s just…,” she pauses, and Luz can see her making that face that means she’s thinking about what to say. “It’s overwhelming sometimes,” she finally says and Luz blinks, smile falling as she looks at the pensive look that has slipped onto Amity’s face.

“My going overboard? I can work on pulling it back…,” she starts but Amity is shaking her head.

“No, Luz, not that, and don’t do that, I love you just how you are.” She stops her, and those words make a whole host of emotions rise up in Luz. She can’t help it, after being the outcast all her life in the human world, but she pushes that aside for now. She needs to stay focussed! She unwinds her arm from Amity’s and turns to better face her.

“What’s overwhelming then?”

Amity doesn’t hesitate for more than a second.

“Being loved by you,” she finally says, and brown eyes widen at that. “Sometimes, it just feels like so much all at once and I feel like I don’t deserve it all,” she admits.

“That’s not…,” Luz begins but Amity’s hand on her mouth stops her.

“Just… let me finish?” she pleads, looking at Luz. She nods and Amity pulls her hand away. She looks sad and Luz frowns, she wants to tell her how wrong she is, but she waits. Just more time to gear up for her rebuttal.

“You're… so kind and loving… and I’m just not. So I can’t help but wonder why you love me…,” Amity trails off and turns away from Luz to look out at the water, hands on her knees, pulled up to her chest, unable to look at Luz right now.

Luz pursed her lips. Leave it to Amity to not see how great she is and that just isn’t going to fly with Luz.

“Can I talk now?”

Amity nods.

“Excuse the language, but that’s crap, Amity,” she says plainly and Amity whips back to look at her, gold eyes wide.

“Eda says when it comes to kindness I’m a freak of nature, so you shouldn’t be comparing yourself to me or to anyone for that matter! You’re one of the kindest, most loving people I know!” Luz starts. “And maybe, yeah, you’re not great at outwardly showing it, but I know that’s your parent’s fault.” She reaches over and takes hold of one of her girlfriend’s hands.

“When you didn’t know it was me and turned me down at the masquerade, I could tell how upset and sorry you were, because you’re kind like that, you don’t like hurting people, and hate it when you do. You read to little kids at the library, and put up with a lot of my nonsense…”

“Luz…”

“Hup up.” Luz stops her with a finger on her lips. “Not done.” She smiles, pulling away her finger and Amity frowns, but remains quiet. “As far as loving goes, someone who wasn’t wouldn’t always be running their hands through my hair the way you do, or take care of me when I’m throwing up 'cause I eat all kinds of weird things I’m apparently allergic to, and try so hard to recreate my favorite food for me, or hold me for hours while I’m a sobbing mess. So, yeah, that’s crap!” Luz looks at her sternly. “You ARE kind and loving and you deserve everything,” she finally finishes, squeezing her hand.

Amity is biting her lip and getting teary again. She only just manages to keep them from falling and wipes at the few that have gathered in the corners of her eyes with her free hand.

“Well, I don’t want everything…,” she finally managed to get out. “Just you.” She squeezes back.

“You already have me, amor,” Luz tells her with a bright smile.

Before Amity can say anything else a loud sob makes them jump and look over their shoulders.

Gus, Willow, and the twins are standing a few yards away and Emira is biting her lip, trying to stifle her crying while Gus is openly sobbing into Willow’s shoulder while she pats his back and Edric looks a little choked up as he stands there awkwardly holding a tray of uncooked food.

“How long have you been standing there?!” Amity screeched, face almost purple all the way to her ears, and Luz has also turned a bright shade of crimson at her friends bearing witness to this, supposed to be, very, very private moment.

“Since… Amity… said she didn’t deserve Luz’s love!” Gus helpfully cries before going back to sobbing into Willow’s shoulder.

Edric shuffles his feet awkwardly in the sand.

“We thought you’d hear us coming and stop talking, but then you didn’t and…,” he trails off, unable to look at his baby sister or her girlfriend.

“Then we couldn’t interrupt…,” Emira sniffles, wiping at her eyes, moved to tears by what she’d just witnessed.

“Sorry…” Willow grimaced, still consoling Gus.

“Well, this is awkward…,” Luz mumbles, scratching the back of her head.

Edric clears his throat, gaining everyone’s attention.

“Why don’t we get cooking?” He offers with an awkward smile and walks over to the fire pit, Emira nods and follows him, still wiping at her eyes.

“I’m gonna just… take care of this…” Willow leads Gus away from the group.

“It was so beautiful!” They hear his muffled cry.

Amity buries her face in her hands and groans loudly.

Luz pats her back.

“Me too…”

The awkward air hanging around the beach eventually disappears once the food is done and they all fall into easy conversation as they eat.

Luz sticks to the foods she knows, but the rot dogs are calling her name and she picks one up when her girlfriend isn’t looking.

Luz holds up a rot dog… it looks so good… but she knows the bun is bramblewheat bread…

Just a bite wouldn’t hurt…

Before she can get it in her mouth Amity slaps it out of her hand into the sand.

“No, Luz!” she scowls and Luz pouts while the twins snicker at them.

“Still thinks she’s kind?” Edric mock whispers and Amity turns red, this time a combination of embarrassment and anger.

“She’s allergic!” she barks at them, and they only howl with laughter.

When the food is gone, the sun is starting to dip toward the horizon and Luz jumps up, excited.

“I’m going to go get the cake!” she declares before turning and running toward the house.

“What kind of cake is it?” Amity turned to her siblings questioningly. Ed shrugs.

“Dunno, we put Luz in charge of the cake,” Emira says with her own shrug.

“So, hopefully, no bramblewheat,” Willow chuckles. Gus makes a face.

That catches Amity’s interest. There’s no telling what Luz has prepared.

Luz comes back a few minutes later with the white box and sets it on the small table they brought out.

She unboxes it to an appropriate chorus of 'oohs’ and 'ahhs".

With Lilith’s help, it actually came out quite beautiful.

The white icing is smooth as glass with a lip of smoothly piped icing keeping the jam filling on top from sliding down the sides.

“Oh, it’s beautiful, Luz!” Willow praises and Luz puffs out her chest. Sure Lilith helped, but Luz wanted to make it, so she had the elder Clawthorne walk her through every step, though maybe Lilith went back and smoothed the icing that may have been a little chunky when Luz was finished.

“Thanks, I made it myself.” She smiles proudly and Amity’s look of awe that had been trained on the cake is now on her instead.

“You made this?” Emira asks, bewildered. Edric also looks impressed.

“Lilith helped me some, she’s a crazy good baker, but, yeah!” She beams. “The Redstone bakery was closed so I couldn’t get a thornberry cake anywhere else.”

“It’s thornberry?” Amity is still looking at her amazed.

“Well, yeah, that’s your favorite,” she says casually. “Those were not easy to get…,” she mumbles, unconsciously reaching up to touch the bandage on her forehead. In the back of her mind, Amity makes a note to ask her about that later.

It amazes Amity how easily Luz can just do these things that mean so much to her and just shrug it off like it was expected. She’s starting to get misty-eyed again, and she is adamant that she’s not going to cry for a third time today, despite how determined Luz seems to be to make her. The twins seem to sense this.

“Well, let’s eat this bad boy!” Edric calls.

The assembled witches then quickly notice something though.

“What are those?” Gus is the first to ask, pointing at the fifteen little pink candles Luz has stuck on top.

“They’re candles…” Luz blinks at the cake and then back up at everyone else who is looking at her strangely.

“Yeah, but why did you put them on the cake?” Willow asks what everyone else is thinking.

“Oh! I guess you guys don’t do that, huh? It’s a human tradition. Usually, you put a candle for every year you are, and then you blow them all out and make a wish,” Luz explains to the gathered witches. “It’s just that your birthday is supposed to be… well, magical,” she chuckles to herself. “So the belief is if you make a wish on the candles it’s more likely to come true.” She shrugs. “I can take them off…,” she starts.

“No!” Amity almost shouts as Luz reaches for the little pink candles. “No, leave them… I do have a wish I want to make,” she says quietly and smiles.

Ed and Em smile at each other and twirl their fingers, and pale, blue spell circles appear before the candles light up in a flicker of flame.

Amity seems to think for a second, eyes closed before they open and she blows them out. Willow cheers and Gus waves his flags excitedly, and they make little whipping noises.

“Whoo!” Ed whoops and Emira leans down to press a kiss to the top of her sister’s head, making her cheeks pink.

“Cake time!” Luz grins and starts cutting it up, humming to herself, unaware of Amity watching her with that same small smile as she does.

Luz hands Amity a piece as she sits back down next to her.

“Is it any good?” Luz looks around nervously as everyone takes a bite.

“I think this is the best thing I’ve ever eaten…,” Emira mumbles in amazement and Edric just stuff’s more cake into his mouth.

“It’s fantastic, Luz!” Willow praises and Gus nods, following the older boys, lead, trying to shove more cake into his full mouth.

A delighted hum at her side makes Luz look at Amity who looks absolutely smitten by the dessert and Luz grins. Amity catches her gaze and her cheeks pink but she is smiling so hard she can’t stop it.

“It’s amazing, Luz,” is all she can say. There are so many words but none of them do what she’s feeling justice.

She doesn’t think she’ll ever get used to this feeling that consumes her entire being when Luz is near, and she really doesn’t want to.

Between the six of them, all that remains of the cake are some smears of icing and crumbs. The sun has set as they move back into the house so they can give Amity their gifts.

Gus proudly presents her with a book he found. 'A witches guide to humans’.

“I thought this might come in handy for you. It’s got all kinds of facts about humans,” he explains.

“I am both intrigued and mildly offended by the implication that I’m an animal from the wild…” Luz makes a face at the book and Amity grins. The twins just laugh at her.

“You can be pretty wild…,” Willow supplies helpfully.

“Fair”

“Thank you, Gus.” Amity smiles at the younger witch, who grins.

“Here, Amity.” Willow smiles, handing the other witch a potted plant. Their flowers with wide, pure white petals.

“It’s an Emoticanthea plant. Also known as…”

Amity reaches up to touch one of the flowers and they all suddenly shift to a bright sunny yellow.

“Mood flowers,” Willow laughs and Amity grins at them.

“Oh, that’s cool!” Luz breathes, leaning in close to look at it. Amity glanced at her and smiled. the flowers change to a deep fuchsia and Willow giggles as Amity whips her hand away from the petals.

“Thank you, Willow,” Amity says, cheeks pink. This was a dangerous plant when Luz was near.

“Oh!” Luz digs in her pocket and pulls out the small dark blue wrapped gift. “Here Amity, this is… it’s from Lilith, but she said only if you want it.” She holds out the present.

Amity hesitates.

She wants to forgive her old mentor, she does. She’s just afraid of being hurt again. She trusted Lilith and she used her to cheat. She wouldn’t say her pride wasn’t stung by the fact that she hadn’t thought she could win under her own power. Though now the idea of trying to beat Luz in a witch’s duel is completely ridiculous to her.

“Taking the gift doesn’t mean you have to forgive her,” Luz says after a few seconds. “She’s trying…”

Amity nods and takes the package and pulls away the paper. She opens it and her eyes go wide.

“Whatcha get?” Edric leans over, trying to see into the open package.

Amity pulled out a necklace.

It looks like a large coin made of carved stone, with runes etched into the surface around it and they glow a faint pink in Amity’s hand. All the witches in the room look shocked, so Luz knows she’s missing something.

“What is it?” she finally asks, tilting her head curiously and glances around at the others.

“It’s a power amulet…,” Amity mumbles numbly.

“A what?” Luz is as confused as ever.

“A power amulet,” Willow says. “Their ancient magic artifacts. They’re incredibly rare, you wear it, and over time it absorbs power from you to store. So if you’re in danger or something you can use up all the stored power in the amulet to cast a much more powerful spell,” she explains.

“Oooooh” Luz looks at the stone coin hanging from a braided cord in a whole new light. “Magical present,” she mumbles with awe.

“Wow, Mittens, that’s some gift.” Emira stares at it wide-eyed.

“Yeah, I’ve never seen one before, just pictures in our textbooks,” Edric agrees.

Amity thumbs the coins gently. Willow is right, as far as anyone knows there are very few power amulets remaining in the boiling aisles, full-grown witches spend years of their lives searching for power amulets in vain. Where did she even get it, and to just give it to her?

Amity doesn’t know what to think.

For now, she slips it back into its box and nods, saying nothing.

“Didn’t you guys get her anything?” Luz turns to the twins, in an effort to break the sudden tension in the room; it works.

“The party is our present,” Emira says.

“Yea, and what’s with the accusations, you didn’t give her anything.” Edric sticks out his tongue.

“Luz doesn’t need to get me anything, she’s done enough.” Amity is quick to jump to her girlfriend’s defense. It’s true though, Luz has done so much for her, she doesn’t need more.

“Well, I didn’t buy you anything,” Luz admits. “But I do have a gift for you.” She grins excitedly. “We’re going to have to go back outside though.”

She and Edric carry the two large boxes she brought back out to the beach while everyone else follows in the dark.

Luz sets it down and starts digging through it, buzzing with excitement.

“You guys don’t have this on the Isles, so I thought this would be perfect to celebrate your birthday!” Luz says to Amity, grinning wildly.

“It’s not going to explode is it?” Amity asks with a laugh. She finds herself asking this question much too often ever since meeting Luz, she’s mostly joking though.

“Actually, yes.” Luz grins, and that grabs everyone’s attention.

The twins look absolutely giddy with excitement while everyone else looks very concerned by her answer.

“What is it?” Amity asks, suddenly worried.

“Patience, mi amor.” Luz smiles deviously as she pulls some long tube-shaped things from the box and moves away to stick them in the sand at the water’s edge. She lines up several and turns to them.

“Ready?” she asks, and her grin couldn’t be brighter, so against her better judgment, Amity nods.

“Yes!” The twins shout.

Luz pulls out a fire glyph and taps it.

She holds the flame up to the bottom of the tubes and a sizzling sound fills the air. They watch the small sparks travel up toward the bottom of the tube and suddenly it erupts, shooting into the sky, making everyone jump.

It climbs higher and higher before suddenly exploding in a bright wash of colored lights.

“Wow!” Gus shouts, Edric and Emira whoop, while Amity and Willow watch in amazement.

Luz runs down the line of tubes and lights them and the air is filled with explosions and colors of varying patterns.

When the last ones die down she turns to the witch’s who are still staring up at the sky in wonder.

“What was that!?” Gus turns to her and he’s still grinning.

“They’re called fireworks,” Luz says. “You shoot them off at celebrations and stuff.”

Edric is suddenly digging through one of the boxes, excited, and pulls out a package of long, hand-sized tubes. They’re significantly smaller than the ones Luz just set off.

“What are these?” he asks, turning to Luz

“Oh, those are Roman candles.” Luz takes them and opens it, handing him one. “Here…” she directs his arm out toward the ocean and lights the fuse. It sizzles for a few seconds and then a flaming blue ball shoots out of the end of it. He’s startled at first but then grins as they continue to shoot out the end at intervals, making a puffing sound as they do.

Luz hands one to everyone.

“Just light the fuse.” She shows them, and then they’re going off everywhere.

“This is awesome!” Gus says and Willow laughs in agreement.

Amity’s face is alight with astonishment as she watches them shoot over the ocean and Luz is smiling as she stands at her elbow, watching.

“In the human world people like to have roman candles fights,” she says.

“What’s that?” Amity turns to her.

“People shoot them at each other.”

Upon hearing that, the twins turn to each other with wicked grins and suddenly brightly colored flaming balls are whizzing back and forth across the beach, and then everyone is running and shooting, shrieks of laughter echoing everywhere.

When they’ve used them all up Luz shows them some of the other items in the box and the twins are delighted by the pen missiles and their loud screeching sounds as well as the smoke bombs. If they pocket a couple for later use, no one notices.

Luz explains the mechanics and then everyone is digging things out of the box and the beach is awash with pops, explosions, and bright colored lights. Luz digs out a small box and trots over to where Amity is sitting in the sand, watching the other four set off different things.

She plops down beside her and smiles as she pulls two long sticks out of the box and hands one to her.

“I think you’ll like these, they’re called sparklers,” she says and lights it and it begins to pop and crackle, throwing off sparks.

Amity jumps at first but when the sparks cause no pain, relaxes, smiling. She doesn’t think she’s stopped smiling all day.

“So, you like it?” Luz asks after a few moments of comfortable silence.

“I love it.” Amity turns to her and Luz can see the joy that lights up her entire face, and she feels incredibly proud of herself. “This… everything, it’s all just been so amazing,” Amity says, leaning into her and Luz wraps an arm around her back and squeezes.

“I’m glad.” Luz is grinning back.

Now that it’s dark, the beach is getting cold, and that’s a fine excuse for Amity to sit as close to Luz as possible, not that she really needs one.

Luz touches her sparkler to Amity and it lights.

“Watch this.” She quickly twirls it around and Amity can see the word 'Luz’ trace through the air, following the motion.

She reaches out and flicks her own wrist and her name traces through the air, making her giggle, which in turn makes Luz laugh.

They sit there, flicking out different shapes and words as they work through the box of sparklers.

Luz draws a heart in the yellow light before her sparkler dies and If it’s possible Amity smiles wider, and with the last dregs of her own, she flicks her wrist and the words 'i love you’ are traced in the air in bright light before it fades away, leaving them in the dark.

The next thing Luz knows is Amity’s hand on her cheek, turning her head and then her lips are on hers.

Everyone else is too preoccupied with watching the lights and colors of their fireworks to notice them.

They empty one box and decide to save the other for tomorrow night as they pack up and head inside, it’s nearly frigid out now.

It’s late and everyone is partied out.

They say their goodnights and make for the rooms they’ve been given for the weekend.

Amity walks into her room after brushing her teeth and sees a second bag sitting on the bed that is not hers. Before she can go ask anyone, Luz walks in and freezes upon seeing her.

“Did you need something, Luz?” She turns to her girlfriend.

"No, just… the twins said this was my room…,” she trails off and Amity blinks before scowling and stomping over to the doorway, past Luz, and sticks her head into the hall.

“Edric, Emira!” she yells and somewhere in the house, they hear loud snickering and the sound of running feet.

Amity growls, rolling her eyes before pulling her head back into the room.

“This is my room and they know it,” she grumbles.

“Oh, well Gus and Willow are in the other two rooms. I can go sleep on the couch,” Luz offers.

“No,” Amity says, and the tone leaves no room for argument. “You can stay here, we’ve slept in the same bed before,” she reminds, closing the door.

“I know, I just didn’t want to…” Luz makes some vague hand gestures. “…assume anything,” she finally says with a shrug.

“You’re fine, querida,” Amity says, kissing her cheek, and Luz smiles. She’ll never tire of that word coming from Amity’s lips.

“I’m gonna go change in the bathroom.” Luz hooks a thumb over her shoulder and goes to dig through her bag, pulling out some clothes and dashes out of the room.

Amity changes into her own nightwear and crawls under the covers.

She reaches over and pulls the book Gus gave her out of her bag and starts flipping through it.

It has a lot of interesting things but some of them sound so outlandish she’s not sure if it’s fact or not. Luz is kind of strange at times. Always in a good way, but strange nonetheless.

She’s been flipping through it for a few minutes when the door opens and Luz comes back in wearing her shorts and a tank top.

“Is that the book Gus gave you?” she asks, stuffing her clothes into her bag before crawling into bed and snuggling into her side, draping an arm across her waist and resting her face on Amity’s arm to look at the pages.

“Mhmm” she flips a page.

“Well, what does it say? Should I have a tail or wings?” she asks laughing. “Cause I’ll feel cheated if I should.”

Amity chuckles at her.

“No, no wings,” she says.

“Aww…,” she says sadly and Amity rolls her eyes.

“It says you shed your skin twice a year… do you?” Amity looks at her curiously.

“Not last I checked…” Luz grinned up at her.

“Spit acid venom when threatened…” Amity can barely read it with a straight face and Luz chokes on her laughter. The more they read the more ridiculous it gets.

“Where do they come up with this stuff?” Luz snickers and Amity grins.

“Well, I know you can’t glow in the dark…,” Amity says reading another line.

“No, but how great would that be?!” Luz lights up at the idea and Amity just laughs, finally closing the book and setting it on the bedside table.

“For you, that would be perfect,” Amity agrees, shuffling to lay down. She presses a brief kiss to Luz’s grinning mouth. “Goodnight, Luz.”

“Night!”

She draws a spell circle and the candles go out, casting the room in darkness.

She rolls onto her side and Luz quickly sucks up to her back, snuggling into her

They’re quite a while but Amity keeps shuffling around like she’s uncomfortable.

“You okay?” Luz mumbles after a while.

There’s a pause.

“Yeah…”

Luz frowns in the dark.

“You sure?”

Amity pauses, thinking. There’s something she wants but feels embarrassed to ask even though she knows that’s silly.

She mumbles something that Luz can’t quite hear.

“What?” she asks, and Amity sighs silently to herself.

“Can I… be the big spoon?” she mumbles and feels her face heat up in the dark, especially when she feels the hot breath from Luz’s laugh on the back of her neck.

“Of course, mi amor” she moves her arm and flips over and Amity is quick to turn and wrap her arm around Luz, her face buried in between her shoulder blades and she hums contentedly at the warmth and earthy smell she’s come to associate with the human, happy as she gets to hold Luz for a change, and pointedly ignoring her girlfriends knowing giggling.

They’re quiet again for a long while, Amity is nearly about to drop off before she feels Luz’s hand on hers in the dark.

“Hey…”

“Hmm?” Amity hums drowsily, eyes closed.

“It’s midnight,” Luz says and were she more awake she would be able to hear the glee in those words.

“And?” The word is a sleepy, half mumbled slur, and Luz feels the word as much as she hears it with Amity’s face pressed into her back.

“Happy birthday, Amity.” The hand on hers squeezes gently.

That brings her back to full consciousness.

She just squeezes Luz tighter.

[dreamyaqua]

Helloooo~!! I'm the same person who talked about Hyunjae and Haknyeon's rising signs! When I first wrote it, I wasn't deep into astrology yet. I've researched and tried to learn more about the Greek gods, the mythology, planets and associations to better my understanding. So, this time, I present all 23 members of NCT. To form an opinion on this, I watched their personal variety on their YT channel, took note of their physical habits and appearance, and read first impression stories. (1)

Also, don't worry about answering this right away! I just got very excited and wanted to share this :DD we currently have 5 members with confirmed risings; Johnny, Taeyong, Kun, Doyoung and Jaehyun. That's 18 members left, still! Also, I relied much more on their first impressions of each other as well as their appearance, habits and their neutral face because idols put up an act, which is enforced by their company. I'm running out of words so– (2)

(I decided to put the rest under a cut as the ask has gotten really long and I also put your asks together in regards to each member, I hope that’s okay!^^)

First up, Taeil! My first guesses for him were Scorpio (ruled out immediately lol), Capricorn and Taurus. I went with Capricorn at the end. Taeil just has a home-y, fatherly aura which Earth signs have. According to the members, he has that strong vibe that makes you want to learn from him. And we know that Capricorn is ruled by law and structure loving planet, Saturn. Saturn is associated with Cronus and Hestia. (3) Hestia is peace and home while Cronus was briefly the ruler of all. So, in short, a parent. Taeil as NCT's grandpa is accepted by many czennies. Which fits well. A typical Capricorn rising could have a petite stature as well as a wide-ish body type. Earth risings do tend to be stocky. Lips are usually either thin and wide or round but when they smile it's bright and feels familiar. It all starts from home~ Next up, Yuta! (4)

Yuta? Scorpio rising. I did try to see if he fits anywhere else but landed right back to Scorpio. One main reason, when he smiles, it's real. His healing and genuine smile is definitely a Scorpio rising trait. He's also pretty quiet in general but can get wild *insert clip of Yuta and Taeyong's chair race* and maybe even stir things up. Scorpio is associated with, Hades. Hades is generally a warm soul unlike his gruesome depictions. He's just a peaceful yet lonely guy. When he loves he LOVES (5) Traits seen in our double Scorpio royalty, Yuta. Winwin, Mark, Shotaro and Jungwoo is his Kore and Cerberus (you decide who's who). 

Easy tackle, now we've got Ten! Your local cat mom. As I say that, I guess Leo. Leo risings have feline features and traits, which Ten definitely has. When you watch his relay cam, his day's pretty chill and made more fun by his cats. They're just positive morning people and Ten really has that effect. Leo is associated with Apollo and Heracles (and more). (6) Apollo's a talented man (if you read Lore Olympus, I just hope you don't associate those characters with the actual deities) and so is Heracles. What do they have in common with Ten? Well, both Apollo and Ten are artistic, gifted with languages, and talented in music. With Heracles? Well, we know he's a hero, an ace. Leo is also the sun. The core of our system. We can definitely agree on Ten being NCT's talented ace, which all supports my guess of him as a Leo rising. Next, Winwin.

My first guesses for Winwin were either an Aries or Leo rising. Though, at the end, I settled for Aries. The entirety of NCT is in love (obviously, exaggerated) with Winwin, and fire signs naturally have that magnetism. Aries rules the head area, and one frequent habit of Winwin's is scratching his head. He also tends to put his head forward (called a nerd neck, due to book reading) which is typical of an Aries rising. He also appeals with his eyes when he wants something, also very Aries. Winwin as an Aries rising just feels true and self-explanatory. 

Next on our list is Jungwoo. A total Slytherin. Be a fool and fall for them, I dare you–oh never mind, you already have. Safe to say that Jungwoo is a Libra rising. Libra is Aphrodite afterthewholebeingbornoutofcastratedtesticlesthenformedfromseafoamshenanigans. We all know that Librans are pretty people. So pretty it's sickening, I'm getting too personal now. BACK ON TOPIC. I also had the thought of him being a Leo– I mean, if you've seen NCT World, Jungwoo definitely shone. Leos and Libras are similar in my opinion so it could be why I'm so unsure about it. Not many know but Aphrodite is a war goddess. Her role is very watered down, maybe because war was just not sexy to the Ancient Greeks. Still, Aphrodite conquered hearts, and Jungwoo has that main stage. Life is like a runway, especially with the way he walks. He also loves connections and making people laugh, both an Aphrodite and Apollo trait. Reason why I settled for Libra is that the first impressions of Jungwoo is that he looks serious, radiated sophistication but also wild. Aphrodite, being a magnetic and adventurous (iykwim) mad lad, has a definite influence on Jungwoo.

The next member is Lucas (12 more to go!). Lucas tries his best to make people happy. He loves seeing people be happy. And seeing how he says sorry when things don't seem to be exciting or done his usual way, I'm convinced he's a Libra rising.

I've written notes down but I have school so I'll complete this after LMAO

Back (new classes today so I'm hnghh). Okay, Mark! I believe he's where I left off. Mark is an Aries rising opinion. Also, while trying to hunt for their birth times, I stumbled upon someone saying Mark's birth time is 10:34pm. I tried it and it was Aries rising! Some habits that Mark does that's total Aries; touchy, laughs a lot, swears more than most, loud personality. He also has the Aries t-zone. His lovely gullbrows~

Next, Xiaojun. I was honestly stuck on him until I watched a fancam of him walking to the airport. His steps seem very grounded. Possibly, Taurus. I also thought he was a Scorpio and Leo but with the way Xiaojun gets defensive doesn't feel very water or fire (Aries is an exception). Xiaojun also enjoys food and cooking. He finds comfort in work, likes the easy way better, he's also quite practical. He's also hardworking. Probably either finishes homework the day it gets handed or when he's stressed. No in between. (I erased everything, I wrote by accident...) 

Hendery has the Air sign look and also the Earth sign vibe but in the end, I settled for Sagittarius. Why? Well, Sagittarius is ruled by Jupiter (Zeus) and we all know that Zeus can get impulsive. Hendery seems to be so. Sag is also associated Dionysus, the stereotypical wild "people love people" drunk. Which Hendery also seems to be so. That's all for him. Next up Renjun.

Renjun has a habit of scratching or just touching his ear and head, his fight instinct is on 24/7, gets frustrated when something doesn't go right, very attentive when people tell stories, uses his whole body when laughs (stomping, throwing his neck back like it don't break). I guess he's either a Gemini, Pisces or Aries. The easily bored so they make chaos but also is helpful when needed trio, Hermes, Poseidon and Ares. Renjun just has a distinct style I can't pinpoint. No solid guess.

Dream's papa, Jeno. I believe he's a Capricorn rising. He just has that long faced, big nosed and intense eyes that Capricorn risings, from what I've observed, tend to have. I've also took up Libra and Taurus as other options but I went with Cap. Even if his go-to noises is confusion. I probably don't make 100% sense but I hope it's good enough. Anyway, Jeno has a potential to become a leader and Caps are great leaders. Not perfect but great. He also has some competitiveness in him.

7 more left! Haechan's turn! Haechan really does twist and turn people's heads. He could be a Gemini rising, mostly because he uses his hands whenever he talks, laughs, sing. He's also a trickster. Maybe Scorpio since he has that rbf and the presence that makes you quiver when you meet him in person. Another possibility is Aries, he's wild, impatient and banter skills are top notch. His silhouette either looks Arian or Scorpian. Face, Geminian or Arian. What do you think? 

Next, Na Jaemin. Virgo rising. Jaemin knows how to smile, like he knows how to attract people with it, and we all know his smile is beautiful. He also has that motherly attitude towards his friends. A total introvert as well and is just calm (but can get naggy and fastidious). CEO at eye rolling, even if habitual and unintentional. GenZ Artemis. 

Next, Yangyang. I'm dead sure on him being a Cancer. The way he walks is so baby? and my Cancer rising friends tend to do little skips and sometimes waddle. Whenever an opportunity arises, he takes it. He also enjoys comfort. These may be Taurus rising traits as well (they're similar in many ways) but when I watched ETC, Yangyang seems to have a protective side. A clingy side. So, I went with Cancer. 

Shotaro is next! Always smiling, gentle voice, admires people and loves fun. Libra. A possibility is Aries. This is based on appearance. Arians tend to have weak chins (chins that don't stick out). He also has the "always look forward to tomorrow" vibe.

I-I don't remember who's next...

I suddenly forgot what I wrote before this. I should've planned this. SUNGCHAN. My Virgo buddy. When I first saw him his vibe screamed Virgo, he just had that short face Virgos tend to have. It's a mutable sign so it tends to get overpowered but every virgo I know has a short face despite being different ascendants. I was struggling figuring him out but I decided on Pisces. I'll be taking a stretch here. So descendant is how a person views the world. His being Virgo. Sungchan seems to look at the world as structured so he could feel the want to rebel. He seems to enjoy chaos but probably helps mediate the situation for the sake of doing so. My thoughts are slowly getting tangled.

CHENLE. Chenle's a virgo rising and mostly because his rbf is piercing. He always looks like he's observing and silently judging people. It makes more sense for him to be a Scorpio as well. Yes, he's bright and fun but Scorpios do have that side. Just more serious and a lot of roasting.

FINALLY THE MAKNAE. Jisung Park. Libra rising. He just likes peace but when he's chaotic, he'd want you to match his vibe. A balance, in a way. He also seems to get frustrated/stressed easily, gullible, awkward hands, and he's always quite pretty. Calming to look at. That's all. What do you think their signs are? I want hear your opinion :DD Also, I hope your exams went well!! You probably put in your 100% best so of course it did!!

//

First of all, thank you so much for your support! My exams actually went well and I’m so relieved I got it all over with for this semester.^^ And now, as you’ve already noticed in an ask I’ve answered earlier, I don’t cover NCT on this blog and therefore, I haven’t really given their rising signs much thought so far, so I’m not going to really have an opinion myself but I wanted to thank you so much for your hard work with all of this and for sharing it with us!! It was super interesting to read and I can only say that I think all of guesses make sense to me.

As a Leo rising myself, I felt super flattered while reading Ten’s paragraph - I’d feel super honoured to share my rising sign with him and I also feel like his energy is familiar to me, so I could totally believe that to be true!^^ And also, omg, I’d love for Yangyang to be a Cancer rising! I seem to attract Cancer risings left and right and he’s recently become one of my ults, so that would be great :’) (I’ll definitely start to analyze him more in the near future haha)

Oh, oh!! Btw, my close friend @jacksvnshine made a very in-depth analysis of Mark’s possible rising sign and she guessed him to be an Aries rising like you did! She’s so amazing at what she does and if it wasn’t for her, I wouldn’t know a thing about astrology. So I can highly recommend checking out her blog and I also really want to link her analysis for you here as you might find it interesting to read, and it’s exceptionally well made!^-^

I’m sorry that I can’t really give you my opinion on their rising signs, I haven’t studied them enough in that sense :( and I personally struggle with rising sign guesses because I always feel like I don’t know enough to make an “accurate” guess but oh well- a guess is a guess, we can never know for sure but my mind doesn’t really want to accept that. :’)

I truly enjoyed reading through your messages and guesses, thank you again for sharing this with us!! I’m sure there’ll be others who’ll find it interesting to read as well!^-^

[hippohead]

postcode envy (6/24)

i am horrendously behind and catching up has been tricky with work, but i am still working on this advent fic, i promise! 

read it on ao3

Okay, so maybe Kurt should have thought it through.  

He’s out, Blaine is out, and they’re both in the public eye to some extent. You don’t have to give the media much before they start connecting dots... even when those dots don’t exactly connect yet.  

Or at all.  

But it was just supposed to be a cute photo on his Instagram feed.  

Blaine, personally, is having a wonderful time with it. He had walked onto set on their first day of filming and loudly announced to the make-up artists that the world thinks he’s dating Hollywood’s Kurt Hummel, and he'd followed it up with a dramatic bow. At first, Kurt had taken it on the chin and laughed it off and chuckled whenever Blaine had made a reference to it. But they’re on their third consecutive day of filming on a farm in East Auckland and he’s had it.

As if the heat and the cow shit and his less-than-ideal costume wasn’t enough, he’s having to fend off calls from friends and family back home and deal with everyone’s questions at work. If he sees one more raised eyebrow or knowing smile from a crew member, he’s going to lose it.  

“Hey, mate. You okay?”

Kurt forces a smile onto his face and turns to where Kura is standing a couple of feet away from him, “Yeah, just having a breather.” They're all on their lunch break and as much as he's been channeling some of his anger towards the farm itself, it really is beautiful and calming. Rolling hills and an incredible view of the ocean stretching out far away from them. He likes being able to see the water, and he likes that you’re never really far away from being able to in New Zealand.

Kura makes her way over to where Kurt is standing and they both look out at the sea, a nice silence settling over them. Kurt sort of hopes they can just be here and not do or say anything for a while, but then she raises her arm and points, “That’s Maraetai Beach down there.”

“It’s beautiful.”

She hums in agreement, “A couple of us are going to head down there after we wrap tonight and get some fish and chips. You should come,” and then, as a cheeky afterthought, she adds, “And you can bring that boyfriend of yours.”

Kurt manages a chuckle but it’s weak and transparent.  

When Kura speaks again, it’s more serious than he’s ever heard her. “You must get pretty sick of people being all up in your business all the time, huh?”

He tears his gaze away from the view and looks at her, tries to figure out what she wants from him; the truth, or the sugarcoated answer he’s learnt to give. But there’s a softness in the way she’s waiting for his reply and so he decides to just be honest. “It can get a bit overwhelming, yeah. The fact that I can’t even post a photo with a male friend without the world planning our wedding is... tiresome.”

She grimaces slightly, guilt in her expression over the fact that she’s definitely made a couple of light jokes over the past few days. “I’m really sorry, Kurt. We shouldn’t be adding to all of that.”

He nods, smiling, accepts the apology. And then, to let her know that they’re okay, he says, “I’d love to come to the beach. And I’ll bring my boyfriend.” He rolls his eyes good-naturedly and they laugh, and then they look back out at the ocean again.

- - - - - 

Kurt’s not sure if this is exactly his ideal way of eating dinner, but there is something about the content feeling of it that is appealing.  

A group of them had piled into cars after work and wound down the hill until they'd reached the water’s edge, with Kura planning to meet them there with the food. Once she'd found them and called, “Kai’s here,” everyone had gone about setting up picnic blankets on the sand and putting out bread and tomato sauce and untangling the newspaper-wrapped bundle.  

And it’s not like Kurt’s never had fish and chips before, but there’s something about this meal that feels like a ritual and a tradition. There’s a certain way about it, as if feeling this airy and easy and happy whilst sharing food with friends on the ground with the waves lapping nearby is how it should always be.

“Come on, try a chip butty.”

Kurt looks at Blaine, unimpressed, “A chip what-y?”

Blaine smiles at him in such a goofy way that it makes Kurt want to shake his head in disbelief – how can this man’s silliness be so effortlessly charming? It’s infuriating. And endearing. He always comes back to endearing.

“A chip butty,” he clarifies, even though he knows just as well as Kurt that he heard him the first time. He holds out his own butty to punctuate his point.

“I have no desire to put fried potato inside of white bread and drown it in ketchup, but thank you,” and he means that, but he says it kindly.  

Blaine mocks hurt, “Kurt, you’re breaking my heart.”

“Alert the media,” he mutters under his breath, a little bitterly but Blaine doesn’t seem to catch it. He says the next bit more purposefully, “Will New Zealand forgive me if I don’t indulge in its weird potato sandwich?”

“It’s actually a British thing,” he frowns, realising that the whole thing stems from colonization and he decides to stop pushing for Kurt to try it.  

After all of the eating has slowed down, two of the camera boys that were sitting on the other side of the giant arrangement of picnic blankets suddenly get up and race each other into the water, splashing and yelling and laughing. One by one, everyone else follows them until it’s just Kurt, Blaine, and Kura standing over them, asking them if they’re coming in.  

“I’m not really a salt water person,” Kurt says.  

Blaine looks at him for a moment like he wants to question that or push for him to go in the water, but then something shifts and he turns back to Kura, “Go, have fun, Ku. We’ll look after everyone’s stuff.”

Kura doesn’t seem too bothered and heads off, striping down to her bra and shorts as she goes. Kurt laughs fondly at her carefreeness, and lays back on the blanket. It feels nice to not really care about the sand getting in his hair, and it’s his contribution to the carefreeness.  

“I’m really sorry for how I’ve been acting about- about the article.”  

Kurt turns his head sharply, looking up at Blaine who is still sitting upright, knees pulled to his chest now, arms wrapped around them. Clearly Blaine is not participating in the carefreeness. He can only see the side of his face as he’s keeping his eyes on the sea, but it looks concerned and worried and more remorseful than is probably warranted. It's not like he wrote the article himself.  

“Blaine, it’s-”

“It’s not, Kurt.” Blaine says, shaking his head slightly but not turning it, almost stubbornly. “It’s not okay. I’m sure you deal with that kind of shit all the time and I shouldn’t be trivialising it.”

Kurt takes a deep breath in and lets that sit between for a moment. “Thank you,” he says on the exhale, because that really does mean a lot. The fact that Blaine’s so self-reflective and caring doesn’t help Kurt in his effort to stop the part of him that wishes the tabloids were right. He looks at Blaine and he wonders why they’re not, what’s stopping him from turning the rumours into reality. “I guess there are worse people for the world to think I’m having a summer fling with.”

Blaine finally looks at him and there is something in his eyes for a second, and then whatever it is clears until it’s just joy and stars and ease - and Kurt realises that the ease is the reason for the not doing anything about it just yet - and he chuckles.  

And then he lays down next to Kurt, mirroring his position half in the sand, and they watch the sky flick through different hues of blue until it settles on a darkness that's still kind of light enough. They talk, and sometimes they don't - just listen to the squealing still coming from their friends in the water. And it's during one of those moments when they're not talking that he wonders how long it's going to take him to figure out the ease.

He hopes it won't take too long.

[pctrichvrs]

              * emma mackey, cis woman + she/her  | you know celeste laurent, right? they’re twenty four, and they’ve lived in irving for, like, seven years? well, their spotify wrapped says they listened to cry baby by the neighbourhood like, a million times this year, which makes sense ‘cause they’ve got that whole watching the phone ring to avoid picking up, unintentionally locking eyes from across the room and dark circles further accented by pale skin thing going on. i just checked and their birthday is december 9th, so they’re a sagittarius, which is unsurprising, all things considered. 

mun.

  wow ..,. hello ! i’m jay ( she&her ) and i’ve been eyeing this group for days .. *nicki minaj vc* i’m obsessed . celeste is my only muse but give me 2 business days and i’m sure that’ll be vastly different . i feel like i should give the disclaimer that although i adore plotting, i’m super slow with messages so feel free to just ..,. let my oddball child interact and go with the flow . < 3 

quick stats.

full name: celeste rosalie laurent.

sexuality: bisexual.

occupation: youtuber/podcaster.

neighborhood: lives in port apartments.

mbti personality: intj.

about.

celeste was born and raised in lyon, france . her mother was an art curator and her father was an architect. they passed along their desire to be surrounded by pretty things which resulted in celeste dabbling in nearly every art form imaginable from a young age . 

sure, some of her work turned out better than others but it was clear that she had a real knack for anything that didn’t really require the left side of her brain. if it involved creativity and didn’t have much structure, she was drawn to it and excelled. she was fourteen when she ended up making her first short film. sixteen when she earned a spot at cannes film festival, sparking quite a bit of buzz and earning funding to a school of her choosing . 

celeste knew she wanted to go to america and it helped that she had a few cousins in north carolina . she went to UNC school of the arts for two semesters before throwing her scholarship away . . . her distaste for structure getting in the way . she’s also pretty fickle so when that chapter closed, she decided to give up short films and put her energy into youtube . 

her channel was an absolute clusterf*ck at first but she made a ridiculous conspiracy theory video and it just kind of stuck. i’d consider most of her channel to be similar to buzzfeed unsolved ( conspiracies, ghosts, etc ) with like a sprinkle of ridiculous challenge videos and maybe the occasional cooking/painting video ?? if you’re her friend, you’ve probably made a cameo in a video at some point .

if it wasn’t obvious enough, celeste’s biggest flaws are her need for freedom and her fickle tendencies which affects nearly everything in her life . everything is very sporadic for her with very little consistency . she’ll go weeks without working on anything and then have a deadline and have to finish it in 2 days . romantic relationships are very hard for her because by the time you’ve gotten comfortable with her, she’s probably moved on a bit . friendships are admittedly a bit easier but she’s definitely not a friend you’d expect to be present a lot ?? phone is always on do not disturb and she takes hours to text back . if you want her, you’d probably have better luck just showing up on her doorstep .

kind of spacey too like even if you show up, good luck getting her undivided attention . she’ll be there physically but mentally ?? who knows, really . the type to occasionally cut you off mid-convo with a question that just popped into her head that’s unrelated to the original topic .

overall though, not too hard to get along with if you give her some room to breathe and have some patience . celeste despises confrontation and does her best to stay pretty lowkey . i feel like she’s kind of drawn to people that stand out and are unique in one way or another and LOVES to hear people tell their story or talk about themselves . she hates being the center of attention ( she used to love it when she was making films ) and is nearly a bit reclusive at times but doesn’t even realized she’s been tucked away in her apartment until someone points it out .

basically the human embodiment of Gifted Kid Burn Out(TM) . #relatable

tldr ; a youtuber ( think buzzfeed unsolved ) originally from france who was once incredibly gifted in film . flighty, fickle and spacey but has a genuine curiosity for everyone she meets .

headcanons.

still has a french accent but it’s not nearly as prominent as it was when she first moved to the states . 

has a super odd sleep schedule ? sometimes she’s pulling all nighters and sometimes she’s in bed by 9pm. it usually depends on the amount of work she has to do but sometimes she’s just like fuck it, let me binge this show or start this book at midnight . 

a “look at the sky!” ass bitch ..,. loves to stargazing or take a minute to appreciate a pretty sunset. yes, she will be pulling out her phone to document it . 

her youtube is pretty successful with about 400k subs ..,. although she’s started branching out into making podcasts and neglecting youtube a bit . 

still a bit of an aesthete ? like very drawn to pretty things/people which may make her seem kind of superficial but she literally just has such a deep appreciation for things that are appealing to the senses . 

i’ll add more later but it’s 1am and i’m getting sleepy .

wanted connections.

roommates ; arguably some of my fave plots are roommate plots ! bonus points if they don’t get along for some reason but anything is fine with me .

will they/wont they ; another dynamic that i’m a sucker for ! doesn’t have to lead anywhere like maybe they just have ridiculous chemistry when they’re around each other ? maybe they’ll go on a date and try it out at some point ? 

long-term friend(s) ; someone who she’s been friends with since she was 17 ? i don’t think celeste’s social circle is very big so they probably mean a lot to her .. ride or dies .. best friends .. platonic soulmate vibes . yes pls .

exes ; i don’t think she’d have many but maybe one or two ? could be on good terms, bad terms, one/both of them still aren’t over it ..,. the options are endless .

Parent Friend(TM) ; someone who checks in on her to make sure she’s eaten a proper meal and has slept fairly recently would be super cute, i think ! she’s the type to drink iced coffee at noon and be like : ) thank u . i’m stuffed and then neglect doing self care .

i do not have a cute name for this but basically the exact opposite of the parent friend(TM) and someone who makes celeste go out and have fun bc she’s a tad reclusive ...,. drags her to parties / on roadtrips / other spontaneous shit . 

enemies / frenemies / former friends ; always fun . always a good time !

literally anything like u can send me a musing post and be like ‘do this with me’ and i will probably do it 

[inkblotsandeggshells]

My take on feminine enbodyment and female empowerment

This concept of modern feminism and pushing men out of the picture affects me differently than the average woman, because I was raised without a dad. When my mom adopted me and my other siblings, she never got married and instead asked her best female friend to step in and help raise all four of us. I was very loved, but I felt that absence of a father all my life. It affected nearly every part of my childhood and teenage years, and it continues to affect my adult life. I wanted to get a boyfriend and eventually get married, but the only constant guy in my life was my older brother. Therefore, I had very few examples of what respectful, good, masculine men looked like.

When I was a sophomore in college, my roommate at the time showed me a YouTube channel called Blimey Cow, and they had made a video called “Ten Ways to get the Right Guy to like You.” I hadn’t thought about this video or this channel in a few years, because they primarily make Christian content.  I’m not a Christian anymore, nor do I agree with all the beliefs of Christianity. However, I decided to go back to this video two days ago, because I remembered how these creators directly challenged how our culture defines female empowerment. Specifically they used this video to present that challenge, with an emphasis on noting the difference between female liberation and female objectification. Some of the suggestions they made to help girls find the right guys included showing interest in their hobbies, supporting their local chivalry, letting the guys in their lives know they appreciate them, putting less emphasis on how much skin they show and more emphasis on who they are as a person.  As a 20 year old college kid, these young content creators made a bigger impact on my views on men, women and the hyper-sexual movement than I would have thought. As a result, their video gave me the nudge to dive deeper into this topic through writing.

When you first learn of the term “female empowerment”, it sounds attractive enough: women being seen as a force to be reckoned with, authoritative, strong leaders who are goddesses in nearly every way. Rather than being stuck at home to take care of the kids, women are encouraged to pursue their career dreams, step into more masculine leadership roles and “be the boss”, for lack of a better term. It all sounds appealing until you start to dig deeper into what’s behind the phrase “female empowerment.” One big part of how I discovered this occurred last summer.

In July of 2020, I chose to invest a serious amount of money to an online holistic sex course. It was called Well-F*cked Woman, created by a woman named Kim Anami. Through using the tools learned through this six week course, Kim claims to have helped thousands of people all over the world, especially women, to connect with the untapped power of their sexual energy. She believes that a big reason why people are as stressed, unhealthy and unhappy as they are is because they’re not having the right kind of sex. Moreover, they’re not having the right kind of sex often enough. Whether you’re in a couple or single makes no difference. If you want to gain body confidence, get orgasms or even heal ancestral trauma, Kim claims this course would teach you how to obtain all those things by utilizing your sexual energy.

When I read the information on it, I became very intrigued. After several days of listening to her podcasts and reading her blogs, I became more convinced that this course could be a big help for my personal well-being.  At the time, my goal was to use the course to heal some of the imbalanced sacral energy I still had. Hopefully, it could even heal some ancestral wounds I carried in my DNA. If I achieved that, finding a romantic partner would be more of a bonus than a direct goal. So when I received the stimulus check from the government, I used that money to pay for the course and one of Kim’s jade yoni eggs.

For each of the six weeks, we would get a video with a written syllabus to discuss different topics, most of which revolved around sex. One week we would focus on self-love practices, one week we would talk about the relationship between sex and money, another week we learned about food, etc. In that first week, I began the exercises easily enough. However, I also started to feel very conflicted about the information we received in this course. For example, in the syllabus about self-love, one of the first statements Kim made about women is that “most have rape fantasies.” Admittedly, I didn’t really understand what that meant or what it was, until a friend told me. Once I did understand it, it bothered me deeply, to say the least. As someone who claimed that her work helped heal women’s sexual trauma, to hear Kim make such a statement right off the bat made me feel uneasy.

In a separate journal, I had written down my progress of the course and some of the conclusions I had made about what it taught and about the woman who taught it. In one entry, I had observed that it seemed to take a lot of money to become a “well-f*cked woman”, by Kim’s standards. If needed, it could possibly add up to hundreds, if not thousands, of dollars. For instance, if you wanted to use a jade egg as a sexual healing tool, that cost $300. The six week course itself cost almost $1000. Kim also recommended using therapy injections to change your neural pathways, if you were a victim of sexual trauma.  Just getting one injection is expensive enough, but if you “need” more than one injection or appointment, that will add up fast. Sadly, such treatments are not easily accessible to everyone who wants sexual healing. It certainly wasn’t for me.

Additionally, a recurring message that came up in the course was that it’s important for couples to have sex more than once a week. In this case, it wasn’t talking about the faster paced sex described as being numb and fleeting. On the contrary, Kim wanted us to aim for the slower, orgasmic, breath focused sex where you’re working to maintain and build up a flow of sexual energy. While in some ways, this course educated people on sex differently than our modern culture, some aspects seem pretty similar to me. For example, one night stands are still seen as acceptable situations to practice generating this energy. We were encouraged to practice sex acts two to three times a week, to the point of becoming sex addicts. Also, even though Kim frowned upon pornography, we were still taught to utilize BDSM as a way to create polarity in our relationships. This was to make sure that “spark of passion” was maintained for the long term. Lastly, Kim would sometimes demonstrate problematic double standards when it came to showing examples of how to respect your partner. In one of her stories about “helping” her partner become confident with himself, she talked about making a point to touch his private parts in public, whether he was okay with it or not. If not, she claimed “it was his problem.” In my opinion, if they’re genders had been switched, she would have been called out for her disrespectful behavior immediately among the group.

In this class, Kim discouraged us from using substances like alcohol and drugs during the practice, because of how they damage the body. On the other hand, she promoted addictions to sex as something positive, as something to attain for as a human being. Whether you are in a couple doing the act or you’re a single adult who’s just masturbating, you were encouraged to have some kind of sex several times a week. According to Kim, it needed to get to the point where you felt you couldn’t go about your day without generating this energy. “What an addiction does is that it causes you to stop thinking,” says Michael Knowles, who was a guest on the Candace Owens Show discussing modern feminism.  “It enslaves you. It makes you prone to certain behavior, and when you’re not thinking, that’s when the people who want to grab power can come in and force it on you.” Too much of anything can be detrimental for your well-being, on all levels.  During a time where protection of boundaries for my spiritual life had become very important, this way of thinking pushed me to discover what kind of boundaries I had and to stick to them. In this case, it lead me to the conclusion that if being like Kim meant being addicted to sex, disrespecting the men I care about, and using methods of sexual control for the sake of “polarity”, then I would rather not be like her at all.

With all that being said, I believe the big question is this: how exactly does the WAP culture of free sex and female empowerment differ from the holistic sex culture I learned about in the summer of 2020? How does our pop culture differ from the Well-F*cked Woman course, in how we’re being educated about sex? In my opinion, one culture pushes the more superficial, fleeting benefits of sex in our faces, while the other pushes for using sex and sexual energy as a way to harness untapped power. This power can, supposedly, be used to energize us, heal our bodies, and manifest things into our lives. Regardless, both cultures seem to be more concerned with using sex to gain power than using it as a means to express true love.  Both cultures seem to encourage women to “embrace their femininity” by leaving their underwear off more often. Both cultures seem to promote double standards on how partners should respect each other and their boundaries. Both cultures still push us to become addicted to sex in order to have a fulfilled, happier life, because according to them, every aspect of our lives will disintegrate without it.

As a result of the lockdown, last year turned out to be most isolating time for us, and it was intense enough to put many people into a deep state of depression. At a time when everyone is stuck online and forced to keep further apart, this is when people in the online sex business—holistic or otherwise—will benefit the most from that loneliness. They can use it to make those profits and fill their own pockets. This becomes more obvious when you observe their marketing tactics, including the ones I noticed for Kim Anami’s website: unless you give me your money and do what I tell you to do, you will never be “well-f*cked.” Everything in your life will deteriorate unless you become “well-f*cked.” You will be a brainwashed zombie forever, easily manipulated, unless you become “well-f*cked.”As my friend Lee Yun would say, “These tactics are designed to create an empty void in people that can’t be filled.” In the cases of some individuals, even if they were to try, it would cost them more time, money and energy than they were lead to believe.

For those of you who wonder if I still keep up with the practices I learned from this course, I haven’t. At least, I haven’t kept up to the degree that would be necessary. My jade egg is sitting on my altar collecting dust, even as I write this. Because of the amount of money I spent to buy the egg, this is not something I’m proud to admit. A jade egg is a sacred, special tool that deserves to be put to use for the highest good, and eventually, I will find a teacher that can help me do so. I just don’t want to have to conform to this holistic “WAP” standard to get there.

Surprisingly, by reflecting on my past through watching Blimey Cow’s videos, I realized there are still some values about sex, intimacy and femininity that I learned as a teenage Christian that matter to me now as an adult witch. In my opinion, sex is something very sacred that should not be taken so lightly, because of how it connects you to your partner in an intense, physical and spiritual way. For me, I take it seriously enough to still choose to wait until I get a husband and to choose not to masturbate. Additionally, when I do have sex with my lifelong partner, it will be as much about him as it will be about me. This means respecting and honoring him as a man as well as I know how. In my opinion, if you encourage people to use something like sex to attain higher spiritual goals, but neglect to show basic respect to your partner’s boundaries about his body, then in the words of Jordan Taylor from Blimey Cow, “you’re doing it wrong.”

 Michael Knowles interview with Candace Owens on the Candace Owens Show: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ejWIEMs8ecg

Blimey Cow’s YouTube video, “Ten Ways to Get the Right Guy to Like You”: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iqF_PtugyBk

[femmeharringrove]

merry christmas yall have the first chapter of a fic i completely forgot about

It’s Christmas eve, and Steve hasn’t slept in at least three days but that’s fine.

It’s not, not really, but those are the two words the boy has learned to live off of: that’s fine. It’s the motto of complacency, his father said once, after hearing it on the radio. Steve was just twelve at the time and already knew then that his father’s opinion wasn’t worth shit. Steve isn’t complacent, thank you very much. If he has to label himself, he thinks chill is a better word. He’s a chill guy, he’s the most chill person he knows, and everyone loves a chill person so it’s fine.

It’s stupidly early and he’s on the stupid green sofa in his stupid big house and he feels like shit, which is a surprise to exactly no one. The living room is a mess – he should clean it, he thinks vaguely, but he doesn’t plan on making a move anytime soon. If his parents were coming home he’d do it; can’t have them knowing their son’s become a wallowing slouch as of late. But they’re not coming.

His mother called yesterday, trilling over the line in her unnaturally pitched voice about how Prague was just beautiful this time of year and she wished he could be there to see but someone had to hold the fort down and speaking of they just won’t be able to make it back for the holidays but how would he feel about driving to Cincinnati on New Year’s Eve to join them at one of his father’s business socials that would be fun right? And Steve just listened because what else could he do?

He hadn’t been expecting them, anyway. The family hadn’t celebrated Christmas together in four years.

And in those four years he’d had options. Tommy’s family was happy to have him over, he spent many a holiday with the Hagans and then he’d spent that one truly merry Christmas with the Wheelers, and it was fine, but now he’s got none of that. This year, it’s him and the big empty house and he sort of hates it but it’s fine, thanks.

Steve watches the shadows on the wall shift with the rising sun and feels some vague sense of relief; it’s easier to breathe when the sun is out. That’s what’s been bothering him, really. When he does sleep, his dreams are plagued with darkness and cold and danger, and when he wakes up it’s still darkness and he feels like he can’t breathe. Those nightmares have gotten worse, infinitely worse over time. It’s easier to avoid sleep altogether sometimes. And he has no obligations this holiday season, no parties to appear at or houses to crash, so he can afford the heavy circles under his eyes this year.

It’s fine. It has to be fine, so it is. Even if it isn’t really.

Hawkins got snow last night. Steve drags himself up from his seat and meanders to the back door, eyes gazing out over the endless white carpeting the ground outside. He used to love snow. Now anything cold makes him uncomfortable. He hates the winter, makes him think of the dark Upside Down.

Or that damned Soviet Union and their officers and their cold, cruel faces watching on as he tells them he’s not a spy.

Had that really been this year? It feels like a lifetime ago. It feels like just yesterday. He tears his eyes away from the snow and pads into the kitchen in search of something warm. Coffee? Definitely coffee. He waits in the kitchen while the dark beverage brews and since he’s here he figures he may as well get some food into his body. Steve can cook – it becomes a necessity when you spend most of your childhood devoid of parents – but he doesn’t really want to cook. Takes too much energy, and he’s not willing to put said energy into that. So he goes with toast, because you can never go wrong with toast, right? He even slathers the bread with copious amounts of butter. It’s not the most fulfilling breakfast, but he likes it well enough.

The coffee finishes brewing and Steve spills a good bit of his father’s whiskey into it before dunking three spoonfuls of sugar in and retreating back to the couch. He grabs the remote on his way over and drops himself gracelessly on the cushions before pressing a button. The screen flickers to life and he chugs half of the hot beverage, flips through channel after channel before settling on some feel-good holiday movie. He hates these movies, he really does, but if he’s lucky it might be enough to lull him to sleep for an hour or so.

Steve used to love Christmas movies. He watched families on television gather together and enjoy one another’s company, children waiting for the magic of Santa Claus while parents shared tender moments under mistletoe. It was everything a younger Steve had desired in a holiday. Even when he had his parents home for Christmas, things had been different. Their home was filled with strange adults, co-workers of his father’s and social acquaintances of his mother’s. Santa Claus never came to visit him – his parents would simply give him a gift or two gathered from their trips abroad. He used to enjoy it, but as he got older the presents got less and less interesting, less personal. He went from wishing for those perfect movie-esque holidays to resenting them. That being said, they have their appeal.

Even now Steve can’t help but get a sense of warm comfort and joy radiating from the film, a warm sensation wrapping around his chest. It’s a strange comfort to him, in spite of his bitterness. There’s something inherently warm about holidays, and yet Steve finds himself feeling cold. He wonders idly what his parents are doing now, if they’ll remember to call tomorrow. The boy sits and sips on coffee and wonders and he’s right about the movie because he ends up dozing for a little bit. He dreams of families and caroling and trees and the whole scene takes on a peaceful, golden haze. Something almost physical wounds around his body like a cat rubbing along his frame in a form of greeting. It’s the nicest dream he’s had in a long time.

Which is why, when the doorbell startles him out of his dreams, Steve feels like he’s capable of murder.

The boy is so confused at first he doesn’t realize it’s his doorbell. When the incessant ringing gets accompanied by an even more incessant knocking on the door, Steve groans. The warmth seeps away and he heaves himself up from the couch. The mug is drained of its remaining lukewarm contents before he sets it on the coffee table. Footsteps land heavy as he stomps his way to the door, yanking it open and preparing to bite off the head of whoever dared to disturb him so early on Christmas Eve of all days.

His face morphs from a snarl to a look of surprise. Dustin grins up at him, oblivious to Steve’s previous anger.

And he’s not alone, either. El is there, too, brown eyes sparkling at him, arm tucked in Max’s as they flash him identical grins. On Dustin’s other side, Will’s smile is something more timid than the rest of his co-conspirators. Steve’s shoulders drop.

“What are you dipshits doing out here?” he snaps playfully. “Not you, of course, Will.” Will’s smile widens while Dustin and the girls make faces of protests.

“Hey!” Dustin squawks indignantly. “I’m your favorite, that’s not allowed to change!”

“Oh yeah?” Steve’s hands settled on his hips. “Who rang the doorbell?” El’s hand shoots up. “Uh-huh. And who started knocking?” The younger boy shares a guilty look with Max, who kicks guiltily at the ground. Will blinks at him in innocent confusion. Steve smirks. “So, every single one of you played a role in waking me up from my nap with the exception of Will. Little Byers is now my favorite.” Max groans and Dustin makes another scandalized sound, while Will and El both try to hide their giggles. Steve feels a mix of fondness and frustration as he watches them; that seems to be his default emotion around these damned kids. Shaking his head, Steve opens the door wider. “Okay, okay, now why don’t you all come in so I can figure out what I owe this visit to?”

“No need,” El responds, her laughter dying down. That amused happiness never leaves her face, however. “Will you have dinner with us?”

“Mom and Hopper want you to join us,” Will adds. “You can help out with the tree and everything.”

“And baking and cooking and shit, because Hop and Mrs. Byers aren’t the best in the kitchen,” Max finishes, and even though Will makes a small attempt to protest he and El share a knowing shudder. Dustin bounces on his feet slightly as he looks up at the older boy.

“Plus, if you say yes I can ride back to the house with you!” He grins broadly. “Whaddya say?” Steve blinks.

What does he say?

It’s a nice idea, sure. He loves these kids, feels safe with the two adults in question, and spending the day with them promises to be interesting at the very least. But if they’re all there, he has little doubt about Nancy and Jonathan being there too, and he’s really not mad about it anymore but there’s a little bit of awkwardness lingering between the trio. And even if he did go, those lovebirds will have each other. The party has each other, Hopper has Joyce.  Steve is bound to be left out eventually. He knows it’s not on purpose, of course, but he knows how this goes. How many times has it happened before? And he’s already a little bit pissy this holiday season, that truth isn’t likely to make this any more enjoyable.

But eight pairs of eyes watch him expectantly, hopeful looks etched onto their faces. Steve’s gaze shifts past them, down the driveway and he finds Hopper’s truck waiting at the end and he doesn’t have to see the man to know he’s also waiting for an answer.

He doesn’t like disappointing people. He’s chill, Steve goes with the flow as a matter of principle, and this is where the flow seems to be leading. He makes a show of sighing, theatrics making the kids smile even wider.

“I shouldn’t –“ A series of pleas and protests interrupt him and he has to work hard to keep from smiling. Damn, Steve should have run off to New York or Hollywood and becoming an actor, he’s good at this. “- Oh, alright. I guess I can come for a little while. Dustin pumps his fist into the air as the others grin widely. Dustin rushes to the Beamer and Max isn’t far behind.

“Get your keys, Harrington, let’s get moving!” he shouts. Steve can’t help but laugh.

“Hang on, you little gremlin, I gotta get real clothes on! And do my hair!” The two set on riding with him dart back over and duck under his arm into the house, and Steve waves Will and El off. “Go on, you two, don’t wait for me. Tell Hop I’ll bring the little devils with me,” he orders. Both nod eagerly before setting off back to the car. Steve sees them off before turning back into the house. Max is in the living room, face wrinkled into something resembling disgust.

“Jesus, Steve,” she says, “Do you ever clean this place?” It has gotten pretty bad over the past month or so. Steve tries not to wince at the judgement he feels radiating off of the redhead.

“Never, it’s a point of pride at this point,” he teases instead, and she makes another face, nose crinkling before she rolls her eyes and makes a snide comment about messy boys. Steve reaches over and ruffles her hair, reveling in her giggled squawk of protest. “Oh, be nice, Mayfield. It’s a holiday!” Dustin’s footsteps thud down the stairs.

“It is the holidays, so I know you got me a gift, Harrington,” he states, eyes narrowing. “Where is it?” Max perks up in interest now, spinning from the curly-haired kid to the taller boy, eyebrows arching up.

“Oh, uh, presents? Yeah, um -” Steve smiles sheepishly, rubbing at the back of his neck. Dustin’s eyes go wide.

“You forgot?” He marches down the rest of the stairs. “I can’t believe you, Harrington! Party members are supposed to get gifts for other party members! How could you forget?”

“Steeeve,” Max whines, head falling back dramatically. “I can’t believe you!” And she shouldn’t. Neither of them should. Again, he’s sure he’s missed his calling in life with the whole acting thing. Of course he got gifts for them – tucked safely away in the trunk of his car. He doesn’t plan on outright putting his name on them, but he’s sure the kids will figure it out tomorrow morning, which ones he leaves for them.

Chuckling at their antics, Steve hops up the stairs two at a time and dives into his room. How did this become his life, dealing with more barely-pubescent teens than any nineteen-year-old should? Steve’s shower is quick, and he styles up his hair before digging out an ugly sweater his grandmother had gotten him four years ago. Back then people were convinced the boy would go through a growth spurt; he did, but he hadn’t beefed up in the way everyone anticipated. The sweater still remains baggy on his slender frame, but he wears it nonetheless. Jeans are hastily yanked on and socked feet are shoved into sneakers before he trips his way down the steps.

Max and Dustin are anxious by the door, and he grins at them as he approaches the hall closet and grabs a coat. He hears his keys jangle softly in the pocket as he pulls it over his shoulders.

“The two of you have no patience,” he teases, watching them dash out to the car. He follows at a slower pace, amusement tugging at his lips. The kids are practically buzzing with excited energy, urging him to speed up, and they clamor into the car the moment he gets it unlocked, Max beating Dustin out for the coveted shotgun position. The younger boy pouts at Steve in the rearview mirror. Steve smiles right back at him. “Don’t look at me, she won this round, buddy.” Max’s smile is smug next to him, and Dustin scowls before slumping in the backseat. Steve shakes his head. “Alright, everybody buckle – even you, slouch potato,” The kid’s sulking is immediately replaced with a displeased squawk, and Steve doesn’t bother to hide his pleased smile as he eases out of the driveway and out onto the road.

It’s an easy trip; Steve exits Loch Nora and cruises down Dearborn. From there it’s a turn onto Maple and he has Max dig out cassettes from the glove box now. Wham! sings about holidays and heartbreak as Steve drives carefully past the Sinclair home, then the Wheelers not long after. He’s sure the occupants of both homes are either not there or too busy to be peering out of curtains in search of their kids’ babysitter, but he doesn’t want to risk having them see him do anything remotely reckless, and so he adheres to the laws of the road. Once he turns onto Cornwallis Street, he relaxes, speed inching up as he goes. Dustin’s previous sour mood has all but evaporated and he talks in that loud way of his, leaning up so he can get a look at the two people upfront. Max is just as chatty, and Steve is happy to let them converse, offering small hums here and there to show he’s listening.

He’s not really listening, but he doesn’t need them knowing.

Whiskey eyes try to focus on the road as he makes another turn, this time onto Kerley. It’s been five months since Hawkins last had to fight off monsters. Five months since the mall went down in flames. Five months since the Soviets and their needles and their gate.

He has nightmares still, about the room and the faces and the pain. Sometimes Robin’s there, panicked eyes screaming at him to help. Other times he sees Dustin, the kid looking betrayed as the general smugly tells him about Steve’s slip-up in his interrogation. Some nights he has dreams that leave him feeling physically cold. Those are the dreams he can never remember – whenever he tries, his head aches in a sharp sort of way that quickly has him leaving the whole thing alone. Even now as he thinks about it a dull throb warns him against it just behind his eyes. His thoughts wander further as the Beamer rolls onto Mirkwood.

Robin thinks he needs help. She may be right. Two weeks ago he almost had a full-blown panic attack in the back room of Family Video after seeing someone who looked eerily like the so-called doctor that ended up tugging his fingernails out with horrific ease. Even Keith had been surprised, awkwardly giving him the rest of the day off. Robin, bless her soul, tried talking him down, but ultimately she just held him while he sobbed frantically. Every day after that she gave him this look and he felt like he was suffocating under the weight of her pity, the cold force of her concern, the bitterness of her remorseful anger.

He still isn’t sure how he knew she was feeling all of that so clearly. Steve’s not great at a lot of things, but he’s always had a knack for reading a room. You learned how to do that after witnessing your parents have screaming matches almost every night they actually spent the night in Hawkins; he had to decide whether the tension in the air was manageable or too electric for him to safely involve himself in. When you struggle up the social ladder of high school, you learn how to read people and earn their favor. It’s his thing, always interpreting. It’s been five months since that little quirk seemed to get more sensitive. He doesn’t exactly know how he feels about that, or if it’s a good thing at all.

Steve slowly tunes back into conversation as he turns off of Mirkwood and makes his way down a simple dirt path. From what he can tell, Dustin and Max didn’t quite miss his additions to their conversation during the drive. Easily the two chattiest people in the Party, the older teen’s convinced they could talk for a week straight, without pause, and never notice the lack of anyone else’s input. It’s impressive, if you ask Steve. Max’s electric blue eyes catch his for a moment and she grins widely. She looks for all the world like a normal girl, not like someone who’d almost lost her brother on the Fourth of July.

The Beamer finally comes to a halt. Steve laughs as the two kids scramble out of the car and rush up the driveway. He takes a moment to turn the ignition off and now he’s suddenly feeling rather hesitant.

Why did he let them talk him into this?

The boy slumps in his seat. He should go home. He should crawl onto the couch in the living room and hide under blankets the rest of the night. The kids would not be particularly pleased with him, he’s sure, but he’ll make up for it with the gifts in the trunk. But if he leaves, when is he going to have a chance to leave those gifts for them? He certainly can’t come back tomorrow, and after that he’s just going to feel bad. Up ahead, Dustin’s head tilts as he looks back at the car.

“Harrington! You coming?” Steve hesitates, waves the kid off, and as soon as Dustin turns again he drops his head against the wheel.

He really, really should leave.

The door is slammed shut with a nudge of his hip, and Steve trudges his way up the driveway. Joyce is at the door, all smiles as usual. In spite of his doubts, the boy can’t help but smile back.

“Steve! I’m so glad you came,” she greets, pulling him into a hug as soon as he gets near. Steve settles in her hold for a few brief moments before tugging away reluctantly.

“Hey, Mrs. Byers. I would have brought something with me, but -“ Joyce cuts him off, gentle hands waving about dismissively.

“Oh, none of that,” she chides, “And it’s Joyce, honey. Besides, you can still help in the kitchen.” Her smile turns almost sheepish. “Hopper and I could use an extra hand.” Both of them are stellar single parents, but Steve knows for a fact that neither can cook to save their lives. Steve’s been mastering the art since he was thirteen, he’s gotten quite good at it. He nods at the woman as he slips past her into the house and for a moment he’s overwhelmed by how homey the place looks.

Wrapping paper, string lights, and other festive odds and ends litter the floor. Hopper and Jonathan seem to be in the process of setting up the tree in a corner. A holiday record plays loudly, barely heard over the roaring chatter of the kids yelling and running around. It’s chaos, the very best kind. He’s surrounded by the inherent warmth of it all and the lingering trepidation melts away quickly as Steve lets his shoulders relax.

Eleven notices him first among the kids, and is quick to slip out of a confused Mike’s grip to greet him. Her hug is warm, and Steve holds her tight, one hand rubbing her back as he returns her embrace.

“Hey, kid,” he chuckles, ruffling her hair. Eleven beams up at him.

“You came,” she proclaims. Now Steve lets out a full laugh.

“Well, of course I did! I couldn’t just not show up. Besides, you and Will left me with the little hellions, remember?” Will comes next, shy smile creeping across his face as he tucks himself easily against Steve’s side. Steve pretends to give him a scolding look. “Had my ear talked off the whole way here thanks to you.” Will knows for a fact the older teen isn’t even remotely upset with him. The attempted glare melts into a grin and the boy relaxes, his smile growing easier as his slender arm squeezes around Steve’s waist, then retracts as he backs off. Lucas, already trapped on the ground with Max and Erica, waves in greeting. His teeth flash brilliantly in his bright grin and Steve tips an imaginary hat in his direction. Not too far off, Mike nods in his own greeting, gruff in his usual manner but maybe the holiday magic is working because there’s something unusually friendly about the gesture. Steve returns it in kind.

When Nancy makes her appearance, she falters at the sight of him and Steve’s body almost flinches with the strangeness of it all. Her eyes blink once, twice before she gives him that sad smile.

“I didn’t know you were coming.” Steve’s answering smile is painfully awkward.

“Yeah, well, I wasn’t planning on coming. The kids roped me into this last-minute, you know how it is with them.” He becomes distinctly aware of Jonathan eyeing them from across the room and clears his throat.

Yeah, maybe this is a little bit of a mistake.

His escape comes in the form of Hopper, the man’s burly arm falling across his shoulders in a gruff greeting.

“Glad you decided to show up, kid. You’re the only competent chef in this house,” he jokes, but it isn’t really a joke. You’d think a couple of adults would know how to cook a decent meal – well, Joyce can cook a decent meal, but it’s just that. His smile is only slightly less awkward as he’s guided into the kitchen, tossing an odd sort of goodbye to the girl as he goes. Joyce gives him a relieved look as he enters the kitchen.

“Steve, do you think you could help me with this soup?”

He’s kept pleasantly busy after that. Between helping with Joyce’s mushroom soup, letting Dustin peel carrots for the pot roast, taking that job away after the kid hacked apart the vegetables beyond recognition, and attempting to restore some general sense of order to the lawless land of the kitchen, Steve barely has time to think about Nancy or Jonathan or the yelling all around him. He hardly pays attention to the pleasant buzz filling his body as a result of the warm atmosphere. It’s dark by the time all the food gets finished. He’s oddly proud of himself as he looks at the spread of food on the table. It’s nothing fancy, but beef and soup and biscuits on Christmas Eve isn’t a bad idea if you ask him.

He can sit at the table with the rest of the adults. There’s space, and Joyce asks him sweetly if he’d like to sit with them. Steve feels decidedly more comfortable on the living room floor with the kids, however.

And that just seems to be the bulk of his problems sometimes, doesn’t it?

Steve Harrington is almost twenty years old, and he has nearly no friends his own age. To top things off, he also has no idea what he’s doing with himself currently, his past haunts his sleep and his waking hours, and his future is all but nonexistent. He peaked in high school and his life has been in a steady decline ever since. But it’s not all bad – at least he’s got the tragic honor of babysitting the six toughest kids in all the world.

And they aren’t even kids anymore, are they? They’re creeping up on their fifteenth birthdays, all of them. Dustin’s is less than a month away already. Steve can’t believe it. They were kids just yesterday, it feels. He was a kid just yesterday, wasn’t he? Monsters have a funny way of forcing you to grow up, he supposes. And they’ve truly grown, his kids.

Eleven’s curls bounce as her head swivels back and forth to follow their conversation, smile warm and genuine as she leans against Steve’s right. Dustin’s always by his side, the little snot. He looks so happy all the time, his eyes crinkling around the edges as he talks animatedly on his left. Mike’s grown so tall, it’s crazy. Coltish legs are folded awkwardly under him as he sits by Eleven’s side. Lucas rivals Mike in height, though he looks significantly less awkward as he leans up against an engaged Max. She’s cut her hair recently; it’s not a bad look, though he knows she wants to grow it back out again. Something about her is tinged with a bitter sadness, something that makes Steve’s throat choke up in a most peculiar way. He gets it, though; Billy’s brush with death wasn’t that long ago, and she’s still struggling with her grief. But she’ll be alright, he knows. Billy’s getting better, her friends are too stubborn to allow her to struggle alone, even if Billy isn’t their favorite. And on Mike’s other side, simply enjoying the moment, sits Will. He’s grown too, but he’s kept much of his quiet mannerisms. He catches Steve’s eye and smiles a little wider, an action Steve mimics.

Sometimes, the calmer Will Byers is the one Steve claims as his favorite. In all truth, he doesn’t have a favorite.

He has different relationships with each kid, that’s all. His relationships with some are weaker than others, weaker than he liked them to be. Some of them share a bond even Steve can’t explain. But the one thing each relationship has in common is the boy’s love for each and every one of them. There’s no favoritism, even if he tells them otherwise. There’s no choosing, none of that. Each of these six kids have Steve’s whole heart.

It’s Eleven who catches him staring next, and she must see the fondness on his face because the smile she gives him is soft and tender and knowing in its own way. Eleven took to him surprisingly quick; he didn’t quite understand it yet, but he was glad the kid felt so at ease with him.

He’s dragged into the present by Dustin very suddenly collapsing against his side, snorting in laughter as Mike stares at Lucas, offense clear on his face.

“How do you not like the Beastie Boys?” he questions, and now it’s Steve’s turn to snort.

“No one likes the Beastie Boys, Mike,” he chuckles, trying to ignore the appalled look the younger teen gives him. “It’s just what you listen to when you reach the teen rebellion phase.”

“I’m not rebellious!” Mike huffs. Steve’s sure Karen Wheeler would beg to differ.

He doesn’t want to spend the night. Joyce already has her hands full with all these kids, and he doesn’t want to add on to that, so he goes out to the car once the kids have all gone to sleep in the basement and gets his sack of presents and he’s going to leave after giving them to Hopper, but Joyce stops him, a curious look on her face.

“You’re not leaving, are you?” she questions. Steve feels awkward now, shifts his weight from one foot to the other.

“You’ve already got plenty of people spending the night, Mrs. By-“

“None of that,” she cuts him off with a wave of her hand. “You’ll have to come back tomorrow anyway if you leave, you’re having dinner with us.” Steve doesn’t remember agreeing to that, but now he doesn’t have a choice. Hopper, setting a gift under the tree, grunts in agreement.

“She’s right, kid,” he confirms as he stands straight again. “Can’t get out of this one, the kids won’t leave your door until you come back with them. It’ll be much easier on everyone if you just stay.”

And he doesn’t want to because this is their tradition, this is something they’ve been doing together for years as one large family and Steve isn’t really a part of that, so he wants to give them space, but Joyce is already dragging him back inside with the gifts, then she’s off grabbing blankets and Hopper busies him with the task of wrapping last-minute gifts until he forgets wanting to leave.

The couch is his for the night. Joyce gets him some of Jonathan’s clothes and even kisses his forehead and wishes him a merry Christmas before retreating to her room for the night. Hopper wishes him a good rest, and he understands because it’s already ass o’clock in the morning and it’s only a matter of time before those kids come barreling up the stairs to yell about their gifts. The living room is dark, aside from the gentle blinking of the string lights on the tree. It’s a silent night, indeed. He feels warm, and not just from the blankets tucked in close around him.

For the first time in three nights, Steve sleeps. He’s blissfully without dreams.

It lasts barely five hours.

The basement door is opened quite aggressively, and a cacophony of feet thud in before he hears a loud hushing sound, followed by the loudest whisper he’s ever heard.

“Dudes, Steve’s asleep!” one of the little shits hisses. Steve’s fairly sure it’s Dustin. He prays they turn around and go back downstairs for another hour or two.

“Shut up, he’s gonna hear you!” a girl’s voice hisses back, and she’s impossibly louder than the first kid – undeniably Max, Eleven would never whisper that loud. Jesus, who taught them how to whisper?

“Both of you shut up, let’s just get to the target,” a third, quieter voice butts in, and they’re just quiet enough that Steve can’t tell who it is, which tells him it’s either Mike or Will. He’s betting on Mike.

He knows what their target is. Steve takes a moment to contemplate. Either he lets them poke around the presents until Jim or Joyce come in and stop them, which will definitely result in loud protesting and a permanent end to his rest, or he can get up now and get a little bit of sympathy from at least Will for them waking him up. Either way, he’s awake now.

He hears someone poking at a box and goes with the latter.

“Aren’t you little shitheads supposed to wait for your parents?” he groans, eyes peering at the group blearily. All six of them freeze.

“Abort mission?” Lucas whispers to Mike.

���Abort mission,” Steve confirms before the other kid gets a chance, sitting up and stretching. Eleven treads silently over to the sofa and finds her way under his blanket to press into his side.

“Merry Christmas,” she hums, as if she has nothing to do with the early morning shenanigans that roused him. Will joins them on the sofa, and it’s clear the other four are trying to decide how to best fit themselves on the piece of furniture with their babysitter. It’s about to get very cramped, he realizes.

“Yeah, yeah, bah humbug,” he grumbles in reply, but no one misses his fond smile.

Joyce makes her appearance thirty minutes after that, and of all the things she expects to see on a Christmas morning, this was decidedly not it. None of the kids on the couch notice her upfront, too caught up in their giggles and hushed conversation. Steve looks tired, she notes, but he’s not as pale or tired-looking as he was yesterday. He may not be her kid, but she worries about him nevertheless as if he was. Shaking her head slightly, she pads further into the room.

“I hope you all didn’t wake Steve up,” she tells the younger teens as she reaches the sofa. Guilty looks are shared and a few mouths open in hopes of explaining themselves, but Steve beats them all to the punch.

“They didn’t,” he covers, smiling softly up at the woman. “I was up before these hellions tried getting into the presents.” Joyce doesn’t believe him, not for a second, but she leaves it alone as she leans down and gives Will and Eleven kisses on their forehead. Max gets one next, followed by a gentle ruffling of Mike’s hair because he gets fussy about kisses. Lucas smiles as he gets a kiss, and Dustin responds in kind. Even Steve gets a kiss, and he smiles in spite of his surprise.

“Thank you, for keeping them out of the presents,” she tells him as she straightens up and sways off towards the kitchen. He thinks about going to help her, but he looks at the kids sprawled out on the sofa with him and he just can’t bring himself to make them get up, so he stays put. They whisper back and forth about present predictions (Dustin makes a passive comment about some people forgetting to buy presents, Max makes a face at Steve and it takes serious effort to not laugh), and by the time Joyce returns with coffee the six are practically bouncing with restlessness. Their excitement is downright infectious, Steve feels their giddy joy in his bones, his stomach twisting in a good sort of anxiousness. Hopper shuffles in soon after, makes his way directly to the kitchen and gets himself a mug of coffee. He brings an extra one out for a very grateful Steve. Mike makes a face when the smell of caffeine reaches his nose. Lucas doesn’t have to smell it before he gets that disgusted look on his face.

“I can’t understand why you drink that stuff,” he states. Steve inhales the warm smell, sips on the drink (and he’s got to give the chief a thanks because it’s got just the right amount of cream and sugar – not too much, but just enough to take the edge off of the bitter taste), and pauses for added drama before forming his response.

“Lucas, my friend, let’s revisit this conversation when you hit nineteen.” He rests the mug on top of Eleven’s wild curls and revels in her giggled protest.

Outside, the sun is just beginning to poke through the darkness. Steve glances towards the window, watches the black sky turning into blue, and couldn’t help but feel that maybe, maybe, this Christmas isn’t going to be so bad after all.

In an attempt to distract the gaggle of children from the glistening presents under the tree, Steve finally nudges the kids off of him and makes his way to his feet, and he stretches out his body with a few, satisfying cracks in his spine. He’s getting old.

“Hey. You little gremlins want hot cocoa?”

They do, of course they do. And they follow him like a line of duckling behind their mother as Steve trudges into the kitchen. They sit in a row and happily sip on the warm drinks as the brunette then sets about making breakfast. Joyce rubs his shoulder and says he didn’t have to, but Steve is happy to do it, he likes making himself useful. Besides, he’s good at this, the kids love his pancakes. He even whips up scrambled eggs and slices of wonderfully crisp bacon. The smell draws a bleary-eyed Jonathan from his room. He looks surprised by Steve’s presence, but offers a small smile.

“Merry Christmas,” he offers, ruffling Will’s hair on his way by. He pours himself a cup of coffee, and Steve smiles back at him.

“Yeah, Merry Christmas to you too.”