#just so theyd have something they could do together even after hed moved out

[grinchwrapsupreme]

I adore the characterization of Leslie Durrell that he starts off as this angry gun-obsessed 18 year old whose own mother called him a sociopath and in the course of a couple of years you learn that hes this kid whose father died when he was too young and now he will never stop being scared and angry at the world, will never stop trying to defend his family, will learn whole languages just to love more people, and yes hes a spoiled prick with a gun but the second hes offered a better alternative (a way to preserve memories no less) he drops the violence almost completely because at his core hes just scared of losing the people he loves and he wants to keep people around as long as possible

[lunar-lair]

a spark.

a moment.

mikeys always known leo trusts them. trusts them and cares for them, with everything he has.

he cares for people, loves them a lot. trusts them.

but does he trust the way leo trusts?

its a question hes always had. one day, he asked, because of course he did, leo would understand.

he always understands, too. no matter what.

he only laughed. "Well, maybe, but what's it really matter? You trust how you trust, I trust how I trust. Simple as that."

mikey, still 11 and still as curious as ever, still asked again, "Well, how do you trust?"

leo pulled mikey into a one armed hug and grinned, crooked and a little warm, like when he means it. "With everything I've got." he waved an arm, looking up. "You say you could catch the stars, I'd believe you." he looked down at mikey again. "You get me?"

mikey pouted. 

he didnt.

and then, leo lost a key, and the earth came crashing down around them. (or...floating above them? most of nyc did, anyways.) and mikey learned a lot that day, but there was something. something small, yet important.

its what helped him get his brother out of there after all.

he thought, for a moment, about how much trust leo had to have in them to leave this world to them. to trust them to keep it safe, and love in it, and build it back up, and move on. how much he trusted them, to jump in there headfirst, like theyd just bounce right back and catch him, like they always caught each other. how much he trusted them, throughout all of this, the little ways he always does.

how much he trusted casey, to be able to do that after everything hed been through.

and he thought, then, about how he trusts. how he looks at someone and knows they have a heart, how he understands immediately that everyone and everything is important, innately.

but he trusts that way with everyone. and theres a deeper, bluer, ocean type of trust his brothers get, a forever belief theyll be by his side and understand, but he doesnt...he doesnt trust them to do what he says, or to do what he thinks they will, or to do things they dont even know they can do.

'you say you could catch the stars, id believe you.'

mikey doesnt trust like that. mikey loves and gives and cares. and so does leo.

but mikey doesnt trust like that. none of them do.

has leo been trusting and trusting, holding a hand out, without them ever seeing? without them ever giving back?

how well do they know leo? how much do they trust him?

mikey thinks.

before today, he might not have trusted leo not to botch a simple mission.

and his heart sinks.

part of his mind grumbles, well, he does that himself, and the more, intensely aware part huffed back, you know hes only been acting the way he has because hes not fit for this, right? and it finally coalesces and he thinks, 'i shouldve trusted him anyways.'

it hits him in the face. its a ton of little pieces falling together in a split second. leo trusts them without a doubt through thick and thin, through everything. he doesnt care how they act, what they do, why they do it, that doesnt matter.

theyre his brothers. theyre family.

and he knows theyll pull through, no matter what.

hes expecting them to pull through. hes trusting, with everything hes got, mikey knows. knows because he doesnt quite understand like leo does, but he nearly does. he understands the emotions and the insides.

and he knows leo trusted them, with everything he had.

trusts them, he bites back, and raises his hands before he can think much else.

leos trusting them to pull though. leos given his all for them, this whole time.

mikey just has to give back.

and when leo holds a hand up to him, the way he barely looks back when the kraang barrel towards them, he sees a glimpse of that.

mikeys caught the stars, and leo isnt one bit surprised.

leos saved the day, and hes back, and mikey is, somehow, unsurprised.

leos caught the stars, changed his ways, and lived again, and mikey knew he could. knew he would.

he wonders if this is what its like to trust unconditionally.

when he asks leo later, hell laugh, tired yet boisterous, not quite the way he was before all this but close, and rest a hand on mikeys hand from his bed in the infirmary.

"Yeah, I guess it is, huh?"

[jennnsartofgettingby]

jegulus angst: an unpublished chapter of a story i was writing on wattpad

cw: mention of child abuse, its angst so proceed with caution loves

regulus rolled up his sleeve slowly, tears silently streaming down his face. he had never cried like this, certainly not in front of james

as he revealed more and more of the dark mark staining his forearm james began to cry as well. he felt a frog forming in his throat and he knew words would not come easily. his eyes couldve burned a hole through regulus arm with the stare he was giving him

he couldnt believe what he was seeing. no, he didnt want to believe it. after everything hed been through with reg had believed with his whole heart that regulus had found the strength to resist his family, his upbringing, to make the tougher choice

james had always had hope for regulus' fate. he spent so much time believing reg was capable of turning over a new leaf. how could he know have had hope for him? when sirius had faced abuse from their parents, been abandoned bye them, and decided before he was even enrolled in school to pave his own path. james had watched the eldest black son crush every standard and expectation the world held for him all because of his last name. he watched sirius give a middle finger to anyone who told him what to do or who to be

so of course he believed with all his heart regulus would one day do the same. how could he not?

but now regulus stood before him broken, shattered, beaten and bruised, with the dark mark tainting his forearm, wearing a lifeless expression

"iii-" james mumbled his hand reaching up to cover his mouth as he was still in pure disbelief

"i thought you were on our side," his was voice shaking. it was so hard to speak "how could you lie to me about this of all things?"

"did they make you? or did you choose this? please tell me it was forced. please tell me you werent lying this whole damn time," james begged

"im really sorry," regulus managed with a broken tone the words barely able to roll off his tongue

regulus finally looked at james. he didnt say it but his eyes were begging for mercy. they were pleading for james to give him yet another chance. james shook his head at regs silent attempt at forgiveness

"get out." james ordered through gritted teeth, more upset with himself than regulus. how could he have been so naive?

all regulus could do was nod and leave without another word

as james watched him walk out of his parents house everything flashed before his eyes

he saw regulus the shy, timid, and scrawny boy with trembling lips as he asked his brothers best friend if he could sit with him in the library. he remembered the way regulus body relaxed as he opened his books and fell into his own little world

he saw regulus sitting under their tree crying because he was so torn over the war. he remembered regulus confiding in him for the first time and how easy it was to find comfort in each other. how easily they understood each other despite their polar opposite upbringings

he saw regulus humming and tapping his foot to james's poem insisting it be turned into a song. he remembered the first time they ever sang it together and regulus's cocky smile saying 'i told you so' when the people around them began clapping and cheering

he saw regulus, sleepy, pale, and youthful snuggling into his arms dozing off to sleep in the moonlight the first time he snuck him into his dorm room. he remembered how late he slept for the first time in his life and how it felt to wake up next to reg with their bodies intertwined

it wasnt just regulus who walked out that door but apart of james too. a chunk of his adolescence, a section his memories, all that was left of his innocence, and his trust, left with regulus that day

but before he was out of sight regulus glanced over his shoulder to take one look at james again. right then james didnt see regulus but rather sirius; brave and kind and mischievous and free and daring. he knew deep down regulus had a plan, yet another secret, that he had told another lie

it took everything inside of james to not run after regulus and tell him theyd find a way; to scream that he knew regulus was hiding something and this time he wouldn't stand for it

but james couldnt yell. he couldnt scream. he couldn't save him. he couldn't beg any more. he couldnt even move. he was frozen. all he could do was collapse against the wall pulling his knees to his chest and begging some greater power, one far more capable than wizards, to put an end to his pain, to regulus's pain

it was all a lie, everything was a lie. he thought over and over and over again until he felt his brain might burst open

he rocked back and forth sobbing for what felt like hours upon hours until he was so exhausted that he past out

and there he laid in the doorway of his childhood home, completely robbed of a proper love story

[pissfizz]

i do think about nagahiro and michiru genuinely realising they cant practically be together and it does very much break my heart. i dont think either of them are willing to risk it. theyre like 14 after all. i dont think they would get together while in school. if anything, its years after theyve graduated. michiru works at a small restaurant. nagahiro finds that out and comes in one day. they recognise each other because of course they do. and michiru cooks for him. they dont talk because michiru is working but nagahiro leaves his phone number.

michiru agonises over calling him because, even after all these years, there was something there and he hated it. they couldnt be together then, why should that have changed. it didnt. it couldnt have. but the temptation to see his old friend again is too much. so they do agree to meet up. nagahiros unmarried to michirus surprise. nagahiro ended up helping the … demon child— i forgot her name forgive me— but in a way that didnt require him to give up that level of freedom. michiru isnt with anyone either. they both realise nothing much has changed. michiru is still stubborn and tired-looking with his kind heart. and nagahiros still at a level of power and superiority with even with the insecurities he never managed to get over.

and maybe they just fall back into the easiness of each others company. and it becomes a regular thing for them to see each other. they become part of each others lives and as incredible as it is, its also painful. because while nagahiro is in love, he doesnt believe michiru is. and while michiru is in love, he doesnt believe nagahiro is. and because theyd missed each other for so long, it felt irresponsible, immature and dangerous to challenge that. there was no promise of more, and if more wasnt requited, everything would be over. and it could not be over. not after theyd just found each other again.

but it happens naturally. a faithful movie night, nagahiro falls asleep during the film. michiru cant help but smile down at him. but the guilt of having nagahiro there without him being conscious enough to deter michiru was too much. he steps outside to look at the stars. the stars have never been the same since that first case with doujima. michiru hears the door open behind him. nagahiro woke up to join him. without a word, nagahiro walks over to his side, and carefully leans his body weight against michiru. michiru doesnt protest but does ask what nagahiro thinks hes doing. nagahiro explains hes simply tired and that, if michiru didnt mind, hed like to rest there. michiru agrees.

nagahiro manages to fall asleep again, or at least he looks he is. michiru simply sighs. hes a strong boy because obviously and carefully picks nagahiro up and moves him to his bed. he gently tucks him in. michiru goes to leave but hears a faint “wait”. he turns back to nagahiro. “stay”.

unsure of what to do, michiru walks back over and sits on the edge of the bed. nagahiro asks him if hes tired to which he shakes his head. nagahiro asks him if he’ll do him a favour. michiru nods. nagahiro asks him to stay with him while he falls asleep. michiru remembers that even as kids nagahiro, much like himself, had trouble sleeping due to an overactive head. so of course he agrees. he moves up to the top of the bed and sits, leaning against the wall behind him. nagahiro cant help but softly smile. so kind… so secretly kind he was. and suddenly, unprompted and impulsively, michirus hand moved to nagahiros hair. and he stroked it, pushing it out of nagahiros eyes, a soothing motion. it didnt take long for nagahiro to fall asleep.

it didnt take long for michiru to fall asleep either. one nagahiro has drifted off, michiru lay down on top of the covers, facing his old friend. as if the peace nagahiro held in his slumber was his own, michiru managed nod off too. but he made a promise— a promise to nagahiro and a promise to himself. their time together wasnt going to end until he had made his feelings known. for the two of them to find so much serenity in each other, even though they were never meant to be together like this, was so special. there was no way michiru could hold back any longer. and he wouldnt.

Oh my fucking god honey/pos

This is so good. Delicious. Spectacular. Beautiful. Investing. Waking up to this in my inbox is amazing. This is so perfect I love it so much my dear.

[uchihashisuii]

tumblr is tryna suppress the vik truth 😔 so sending in two here we go again:

scenario where johnny is alive and in a body at the end but i think v and johnny would become... maybe not inseparable, but theyd stay extremely close. i mean they literally know each other like the backs of their hands, so theyd hang out all the time, and both show up somewhere when you only invited the one. theyre family now, and its staying that way and sometimes theyd go to talk to the other before realizing oh yeah, they were trying to talk in their head again, they dont need to do that anymore. or theyd have mostly non verbal convos where they gesture and only half start a couple sentences while the other finishes them off because they know how they other thinks, and everyone around them is like ??? could ya speak up so the rest of us can follow please. and v and johnny will hang at the clinic bc v wants to hang, and vik gets to meet the bastard that almost killed her for the first time. and hed be gruff and cold and distant (and a little pissed) because yeah johnny didnt mean to but it still happened, she was still hurt and a mess for so long, and she had so much shit to deal with. he doesn't act outright hostile or anything because he saved her too in a fucked up way, and he'll be thankful to the bastard for the rest of his life for that, even if he never admits it.but hes also veeery jealous and trying not to show it. he doesnt mean to, but theyve got this bond no one else has now, and these same quirks and jokes and johnny understands her better than literally anyone ever, how could he not be jealous of that? hes got something vik wants, and hes upset for even thinking like this i mean hes too old to feel posessive of someone he has no right to. and he recognizes this, recognizes that johnnys not going away anytime soon. hes here for good and will be here as long as v's around, theyre a weird package deal right now, but he cant stay mad for long and needs to get over being jealous because he sees why theyre both friends now despite everything. like yeah hes a prick but his hearts in the right place, and he can be funny and charming and makes v laugh, and he sees the similarities in them. the smoking, the gun tricks, the jokes and the passionate rambling, they laugh the same or give the same grin. hes not as awful as hes made out to be, because he can see where v and him started merging and its maybe not a bad thing that v changed him, he can see it from the start of their first interaction. he shouldnt be jealous of the fucked up situation they both never asked for.

(cut for length ♥)

“ - anyway all of this to say that vik would absolutely try to keep johnny at arms length if they ever met, but would very quickly grow to like him because he sees so much v in him, and he cant not like anything thats a part of v (though he can live without them hamming up their silent convos, thank you) and johnny would absolutely pick up on the jealousy thing and think it kind of funny, and rib on vik when v leaves for a minute, or tease v when they leave because viks got it bad. and once all of thats been dealt with i think vik and johnny would have this fun dynamic of like, just shitting on each other and poking fun in a light hearted way. as if like, johnnys her brother and hes just tryna hold up his own with her family. and they wont talk about it but theyd recognize they have their own places in v's heart and theyd both do anything for her and thats okay, they have different roles to fill. i just think vik and johnnys dynamic would be so neat, johnny having essentially known everything about him and all v's feelings toward him, while vik just knows him as a terrorist, and the guy that was killing someone soso important to him. johnny would make fun of vik being an old timer, and vik would dunk back that not only is johnny older than him but he could absolutely demolish him with one hand tied behind his back. but yeah, lot of good potential there. i love the idea vik being jealous of johnny and feeling like an ass for even thinking like that. johnny going 'haha simp' but then also being like 'v, i unfortunately care for you so im gonna tell you right now no one in this city is worthy of you but the doc is the only one that comes close. i swear to god make a move on him before he turns green, i cant stand seeing him pine after you. fuck him and then never speak to me about it, i dont wanna know or see anything. luv u prick' and not to say that johnny would ever replace jackie bc he couldnt, and theyre not looking for a replacement. but their dynamic would echo the one v and vik had with jackie with the jokes and teasing. and vik would see the old v, the one from before the heist come back a little with how she bounces off everyone and keeps the convo going. shed light up again in a way she hadnt in what feels like a long time. and johnny wouldnt like, become bffs with vik or anything but he wouldnt treat friendships the way he did back in 2020, so he would really try with his friendship with vik when he needs to, if only for the sake of v. because everything and everyone important to her is important to him now too, and hes gonna take this second (third?) chance seriously because hes different now, and with everything vs done for him its worth doing. (apologies for the length again 🙏)”

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

once again i find myself with not a goddamn thing to say you put into exact words EXACTLY the things i feel about this im

im obsessed with the image of johnny and vik ripping each other to pieces (jokingly) and v being in the middle of it like “why do two people i love gotta b like this to each other” and johnny being the one to try nd get them together oh my GOD johnny loving v with his whole heart and wanting nothing but the best and for them to be happy im

[zontiky]

okay so i tried to save this ask as a draft and it got deleted because tumblr is just such a functional website like that <3 but the prompt was “the hargreeves as ghosts in the apocalypse with five” or something like that i’m going to scream

this is SUPER long so i’m putting it under the cut hfkjsd

pre-five: the hargreeves siblings are dead. wait i feel a drabble coming on ooh

The Hargreeves siblings are dead.

Ben isn’t very aware of this at first. He’s been dead since 2006 -- he’s quite used to it, by now. What he is aware of, first, is light. Blinding white light. And Vanya, in the middle of it. He doesn’t close his eyes because he can’t feel pain, but if he could he thinks she would have made him blind. There’s light, and heat, and power, and then he closes his eyes anyway because the ceiling is collapsing around him and it’s instinctual.

When he opens them again he sees ash. Ash -- and Klaus.

He’s gotten used to Klaus, too. Klaus has a memorable sort of face; even if he didn’t, Ben has seen it every single day for almost twenty years. He doesn’t know if it’s actually been twenty years, for him. He doesn’t know how time moves for ghosts. Klaus has assured him it moves the same as it does for the living. Ben isn’t sure Klaus, stoned out of his mind, bleeding sluggishly from his arm, knew what he was talking about.

Anyway.

Klaus.

He’s wearing the coat he’s been flaunting around for the past week. His shirt is see-through, with little stars on it, like a pale imitation of the sky. Ben remembers his pants had laces on them, he’s sure they did not a minute ago, before the brightness that threatened to wipe out his very soul -- his soul is all he has left, really. His gaze drifts down anyway, to check.

Yes. Klaus’ pants have laces up the sides.

“No,” Ben says. Klaus is laying in a heap on the ground, his fingers curled like his tendons have been cut.

His lips feel numb because they always feel numb. Because Ben can’t feel at all. He takes a step. “No,” he says again, louder, surer. “No!”

Klaus looks up at him. His makeup is smudged, like it tends to be. His lips are bitten raw, like they tend to be. His hair is a mess, like it tends to be, and like it will be, always, because Klaus isn’t breathing.

Klaus is lying in a heap on the ground. Klaus is standing above his own body. Klaus is reaching for Ben like he’s hoping to touch him for the first time in years. Just when Klaus’ cold, dead, fingers brush his face, a voice from behind says, so quietly, dripping with disbelief: “Ben?”

Ben shuts his eyes and wishes desperately he could cry.

He feels a hand on his shoulder, for the first time in so, so long, but he also doesn’t feel it at all. He feels-but-doesn’t-feel someone turn him around, until they are saying, “Ben? Ben!” and he has no choice but to open his eyes and face the music.

Diego is gripping his shoulders like he is a dying man and Ben is the answer. Behind him, Luther and Allison watch them, stunned silent. Allison’s hands are pressed to her mouth. She looks like she wants to cry. 

And Vanya. Little Vanya, painted white. Her head is hung as her shoulders shake with the weight of the destruction she has so inevitably caused. (Ben would say he always knew she was destined for great things -- but he can’t, because he didn’t.) (Nobody ever said great things had to be good.)

The Hargreeves siblings are dead. Their bodies are strewn across what is left of their childhood home, smouldering and burning, and Ben is very aware of that fact.

righto anyway. so they have an emotional reunion but its also kind of bitter? id have to actually write this for it to make sense so lets skip it for now lol

five shows up

he cannot see them obviously bc theyre all ghosts

god if i did write this it would be such a monster of a fic and would take me like 2 years to finish i already know fhkjdsk

somehow ?? they manage to influence the world around them maybe? idk maybe now that klaus is dead hes sober

or maybe hes high for all eternity?

for the purposes of this au lets say he died sober or in the late stages of withdrawal, and bc ghosts cant feel pain in action hes sober

so EVENTUALLY they figure out how to corporealize bc klaus is like blam wham ghost powers

asdlfk that sounds so stupid im sorry

he would say that tho imho,,, it sounds like something hed say,,,

if i DID write this it would be alternating povs also,,,

ok so out of all of them klaus and ben have the most experience homeless

and while being stuck in an apocalypse is not at all the same thing as being homeless it does help to have some knowledge

five doesnt eat the twinkie!! good for him

dammit okay. theres 2 options we can take here. in the comics five couldnt get back bc he fucked up his math and spent 15 years doing the wrong thing, but if u apply that here, with 6 other ppl checking his work this could be avoided and they end up skipping the whole assassin shtick and just hopping straight back to 2019, ready to prevent the apocalypse

OR five still gets hired for the commission but the sibs are tagging along

i think bc five isnt completely alone in this au unfortunately dolores doesnt exist :((

for each other the 2 paths tho theres also options?? bc they (ghosts) can go back in time and inhabit their past selves bodies? OR they could just,,, cease to exist

IM JUST NOW REALIZING HOW MANY PATHS THIS COULD TAKE,, AAH FUCK

okay gonna split this into parts. this is gonna be so long brace yourselves.

1) they go back in time because math checking and the ghosts swap out for their past selves

after multiple years of being stuck in an apocalypse together i think they would learn to get along with each other. like at least a little bit

which would make it easier for them to prevent the apocalypse

bc theyd:

trust each other more

already know abt the apocalypse and not have to wait for five to grace them all with his knowledge

are working as a team from the very beginning

have open lines of communication

yeah uh. so there

vanya is also already aware of her powers so the whole harold goading her into turning against her family and snapping to wipe out all life on earth thing? yeah that doesnt happen

oh and harold wouldn’t know how to do that in the first place because klaus wouldn’t throw out reggie’s journal! this solves so many problems wtf

there’s still commission issues bc they (and by they i mean five) are on the commission’s radar

so there’s still dope fight scenes sdlkfd pinky promise

okay idk. they stop the apocalypse and everything is okay the end hfkjd

2) they fix the math but only five can go back and the ghosts cease to exist

this is just sad! it would be sad okay! im sad! lets move on

subset of the past one: ben CAN go back with five because he was already dead and time travel affects them differently or something idk

aaaaaa

five & ben dynamic duo would be dope as shit BUT five would not be able to see him... so they use klaus as a middleman fjsdsfd

is there 2 bens? is one ben deleted in favor of the time-traveling ben? i dont know! i dont know my brain is melting

either way shit is happening yall!! obviously klaus is clued in, directly or indirectly it doesnt matter but he is on board the ‘don’t let the entire world end in flames’ train

3) they join the commission and then when five goes back in time they all go back

this is fun because now five is a highly trained assassin who is also lowkey a complete marshmallow for his siblings and once again TEAMWORK WOO

basically the first path but now five has a gun fhsdjk

4) they join the commission but five has to leave them behind and they cease to exist

five with a gun but hes sad now

i didnt go into how much losing his siblings would suck in the prev path but like. it would suck so much. he’s already lost them once if you think about it when he time traveled the first time and yeah he found the adult ghost versions but,, its different

and now suddenly hes stuck with these strange adult versions of the people he knows and he KNOWS them but also he doesnt? at all? they dont have all the years of shared experiences together? and theyre all grown up from the first ‘set’ of siblings he had which for five was like 40+ years ago??

SCREAMS

i have losing my mind disease (self-diagnosed)

subset: five has to leave them behind but they still exist because the commission is out-of-time kind of? idk but they’re still floating around somewhere and come back to impact the plot later or something

yeah idk. literally just wrote them down bc i didnt want them to die^2 hfkjwehd

subset: they still exist but instead of being just Somewhere they’re specifically at the assassination of JFK onwards because thats where five left them and they either go on ghosting and make an appearance in s2 OR they cease because them-wise they havent died yet but that doesnt make sense because ghosts can time travel so nevermind

i dont have the brain energy left to explore this one aaaa

okay jesus christ i think that’s all

I DON’T KNOW. i don’t know. i might write some more of this because honestly it is a very fine flavor of angst + hurt/comfort <3

[urmomification]

SWAG ANOTHER DREAM SMP AU FIC IDEA THAT ILL NEVER WRITE POG

this is a very long post please im so sorry my brain it just

(tw for like slight possession n shit)

(sorry its all jumbled i write all of these in discord to my friend and copy paste them here please if u have questions ask me im always willing to talk abt this shit please it haunts me)

(context: i saw a tiktok abt the hc that both dream and techno are gods of some sort bc theyre mentioned in the tales of the smp by karl a time traveller and my brain just ran w it)

going back to the techno and dream are gods thing right so dream is a vessel for the god dream xd (??? work in progress youll know what im talking about at some point its really funny tho uve def seen clips of it) and he was possessed?? by the god after the server started (when he started going from super friendly with everyone to control/power hungry) when he started sacrificing everything for power so no one could have power over him? that was the god making him do it bc the god was terrified of not being in control since theyd lost it all to techno in their past. thats why we never see dream and techno fight and why we see dream extend help and support to him at times as well as respecting his boundaries and such bc theyre scared of techno (again w the best of 10 duel reference, techno killed the god in a past life which is why the god has been forced to use a human vessel to get anything done on the mortal plane) but when something that powerful spends pretty much any amount of time in something mortal and mundane like a person, the host body starts to change (hence the mask) i like to think that the god would be akin to that of a biblically correct angel?? like the ones w multiple eyes n shit yk so after time things start to happen to normal dreams body he gets extra sets of eyes and he gets taller and overall his body seems just Too Small for whatevers inside of him and thats why he (hc) started wearing the mask in the first place he knew something was wrong w him but he didnt want anyone to know even tho they would most likely help him he was ashamed that he was different in the first place so he started wearing the mask once the other eyes showed up. and i think that the god would talk to dream similarly to how technos voices work yk? except its just the one voice instead of many many small ones. and again with the mask thing when he lost to tommy and they took him in, part of his mask broke to the point where u could see just a bit of the right side of his face but enough to see that it Wasnt Right there were two eyes where there shouldve been one and spots on his cheeks bright enough to resemble stars and where the color of his pupil should have been is just a sickeningly neon green with nothing else behind it. so they let him keep the mask even tho they already know something is wrong but it clearly makes him Very Distressed when asked to remove the mask or told to give it up. blah blah blah god harassing its host bc it got them caught and thrown in a prison and dream goes ever so slightly insane having to share a mind and body with a literal ancient god w a vendetta against everything hes built whos forced him to sacrifice everything he loved and cared for out of fear yk the usual prison shit and then techno comes a long and breaks him out or whatever but on their way back to his house he drops a really cryptic line abt how 'its nice to see an old friend again' and 'i thought i got rid of u for good last time' and dream is just ???? what are u talking about?? weve never been friends and youve never gotten rid of me? what. until techno spins around and just 'im not talking to you im talking to the thing inside u' or whatever and dreams eyes flash some brilliant gold or sumn and boom this is ur fellow god speaking how may i help you and dream xd (that feels so wrong to say but) and techno bond or well ig just talk abt how the past centuries have gone and ig while xd is fronting (??? i think itd kinda be like DID in a sense w multiple people being able to front yk?) dream is in a sort of semi conscious state but still hears everything going on around his own body until hes thrown back into the drivers seat (i think that xd would only be able to front for short periods of time due to the vessel n shit that makes sense right) and hes so confused someone please help him hes just a dude who happened to get possessed by a god someone help him so when they finally get back to technos house he sits dream down and explains the best he can without literally melting dreams brain. which would also play into the 'technoblade never dies' bc hes. literally a god. mortals cant kill him unless they have idk some sort of super weapon idk and blah blah blah xd gets what they want and finally has the ability to leave finally leaving dream literally the shell of a man with no home friends materials or anything with techno to basically take care of him until he reaches some semblance of stability again (which would take ages, realistically (wdym realistically) going from normal, to a god sharing a body with you and speaking in you brain living as a single being together and hearing their thoughts, to back to normal but with all the memories of what you did and what they made you do and also no more god speaking in ur head it would take a hot sec to recover from) so he lives with techno (whos, not to mention, another god) for a while until he can fend for himself again and after a good year or so passes and no one hears from dream they start to look for him and see what happened bc he went from the biggest threat on the server to just. gone. no one knows where he went after whatever he did and they want closure. is he dead?? who knows. so george and sap set out looking for him and decide to ask techno for help since hes good w directions n shit also he was the last person to see dream alive so he might have an idea of where he is and they walk up to his house and knock on his door and techno opens it and just stares at them he knows who they are, dreams talked about them before but hes never met them really so he talks to them, getting through the polite hellos how are yous before sap finally asks 'do you know what happened to dream? no one knows where he went and we just want closure' techno huffs and tells them to wait there he (this is the basement door im using his arctic tundra house in my head) goes down the ladder to the second basement, they can hear him talking to multiple people (ranboo phil dream) but cant tell who everyone is before coming back up the ladder, back to the door. he tells them to wait outside he needs to get something first (its dream hes getting dream) theyre standing out by carls stable when the door creaks open and dream steps out looking around for who the fuck could possibly be looking for them he betrayed everyone and most people thought he was dead who could possibly be here asking for himself and not ranboo or philza and when he steps out, his green hoodie (memento made by ranboo to help him cope w the loss of the voice in his head) catching the morning light off the snow and he was happy and then he saw them standing by the house hed grown to call home at least for now he breaks. he missed them so so much it hurt. he never expected to see them ever again much less them come looking to see him but hes scared he realizes he doesnt know what to say there is nothing to say he fucked them all over he ruined everything and then hes being hugged. they missed him too. they dont forgive him jsut yet but they missed him and thats enough for him right now. the three of them stand there just being in each others presences and techno creaks the door open to make sure they arent trying to kill each other and sighs and leans against the frame smiling. hes happy again and thats the best he can do for him. he invites them all in and offers to explain everything to them to try and ease the blame off of dream bc in all honesty it was his fault but xd made it far far worse that it should have been (a bit late but foot note abt xd i think that they would be an idle god until someone w intense feelings of powerlessness and insecurity like awoke them from their techno induced slumber and inhabited dream to help him fulfill his desires for power and control) and by the time he and dream are finished its late at night and sap and george are ??? so u were possessed by a god who techno killed centuries ago in a duel and it amplified ur feelings of insecurity and ur thirst for control to the point of isolating urself from us and destroying everything everyone cared abt?? also technos an ancient god who lusts for bloodshed but also makes turtle farms in his free time?? are we getting this right????? and techno and dream are just yea thats abt it glad this all made sense then they all go to bed (its a small house dream has a lil shack like ranboos and sap and george somehow slept over there for the night) and in the morning sap and george leave again but promise to come back, they still arent ready to forgive and forget bc even tho it wasnt all his fault his emotions getting away from him is what caused this all in the first place so they do need time to process now that they know he isnt dead and dream continues to live near techno in almost full independence and eventually moves back with his friends even tho many still hate him. hes happy and for now thats enough. another foot note; even after xd leaves his being, he still has the extra eyes, glowy freckles n is xtra tall n shit that cant just be reversed but now that hes himself again these things take their tolls on human bodies so i think hed have something at least similar to arthritis bc of how his bones were literally manipulated bc of how strong ethereal magic or whatever is. so he would still wear the broken mask but he takes it off now and is ok with it being off hes working on getting better now that hes himself again and everyone living w/by techno is helping him with that. also i think that he would get blinks of xd's memories like from when techno was killing them and have sumn like ptsd panic attacks from it and techno feels super guilty abt it but theres literally nothing he can do except apologize and after the first few times dream stopped him from apologizing bc it is his fault but he didnt do it to him so it doesnt matter to dream at least and they live in pretty much harmony until dream finally moves back in w george and sap the end. he also started wearing the mask in the first place bc of the extra eyes but he played it off as being uncomfortable around new people and not wanting them to know what he looked like until he trusted them (bc that literally makes sense irl how funky is that) so sap and george never pushed him and when they caught him without it on on the rare occasion they wouldnt pressure him to leave it off or anything even tho they already knew what he looked like (when they respect ur boundaries </3) they just assumed that it was insecurity (it was but also mans had like 3 eyes so) and just left him alone

[neokollection]

Kissing Out of Jealousy

NCT U + Yuta

‘Can I request a NCT U kissing you out of jealousy?’

A/N: I’m sure there’s already a reaction of this, but I’m here to add another :^) This is assuming you’re dating for some members, but for some you’re not dating, they like you- THIS IS LONG BTW!! [Kinda more like a mini drabble per each member]

** Language, some suggestive themes, but nothing explicit ** ik some ppl don't find jealousy cute so don't read if you not into that..

Taeil:

Taeil wasn’t the type to get jealous easily or behave pettily- Rather, he was just protective at times and would feel he’d have to interject to save you from situations... Whether you were feeling uncomfortable or not- Yet a part of your boyfriend also felt slightly neglected, a faithful dog waiting on the other side of the fence with it’s tail wagging at the sight of it’s owner, even though it’s owner was petting the neighbor’s cat.

He called out your name in the hopes of getting your attention as he watched you and Ten staring at your screens before nudging each other continuously with a laugh to show the other a recent entertaining Tweet. He was all for you bonding with the other boys, but he’d missed you this week and throughout the day constantly stuck by your side. Placing the bowl of steaming popcorn upon the coffee table, he took his seat beside you on the couch, hand patting around for the remote he’d dropped there moments before.

“OMG- You have to show that to Mark,” Ten gasped, covering his mouth to conceal his wicked grin as he looked at the meme you’d stumbled upon of Mark’s shorts.

“Let me see,” Taeil added, not wanting to miss out and curious as to what was so funny.

He leant in, eyes flickering to Ten as he watched the younger lean back into the couch, thumbs moving rapidly upon his screen. Taeil listened amusedly as he heard your small chuckle in his ear, a smile gracing his lips as he saw your screen before drawing back partially.

“You’re amused so easily,” he chuckled, nose nearly brushing your own as he leant nearer, a hand shooting to your waist to tickle you gently.

“Says you,” you squirmed with a bright smile.

Finally, his forehead rest upon your own, his antics stilling as he closed the gap between the two of you for a quick kiss. Embarrassed about kissing so openly with Ten by your side, you felt a blush creep upon your cheeks as you pulled away shyly. You could have sworn Taeil’s gaze jumped from your lips to your eyes to Ten before he closed the gap once more- You let out a muffled chuckle against his lips as your hands went to the front of his shirt to slow him down and steady yourself.

“Ew- God- Could you not?” Ten whined in disapproval, scooting away.

You could feel Taeil’s smile against your lips before he drew back, eyes as lively as ever.

Smothering you and being that cute couple to show off and make others wanna gag, but not let you think it’s a jealousy thing-

Taeyong:

Easily, one of the most jealous man you’d ever dated. He had his share of insecurities that make him question whether he’s worthy of love and attention, and an anxiety about losing the person he cherishes the most... So, seeing your interactions with your old classmates made him feel even more insecure in the moment. He’d had a stressful and busy week and hadn’t gotten to see you much, merely late calls that usually didn’t last long because he’d coax you to go to sleep early since you’re busy as well. Meeting a few of your old high school classmates, totally coincidentally at Gong Cha was all it took for him to have a small internal freak out. He already didn’t like that they were guys, even more so that they’d known you longer than he had technically... He felt excluded- He always wanted to be a part of every part of your life and have you in every part of his- To him your soulmates and he didn’t like feeling as though someone had a leg up on him in regards to you.

“You look great! Wow- It’s been a minute, but wow-” one of your old classmates gushed, stunned by how you’d matured and glowed up through the years spent apart.

You gave a small chuckle in return, “I’m surprised you recognized me-”

“I mean how could I forget (Y/n)?” he joked, gesturing towards you, followed by a few hums of the other classmates beside him.

You weren’t exactly sure what he meant by that- You didn’t think of yourself as too memorable of a person during high school. You’re boyfriend disliked it even more, a scowl etched into his features- He didn’t like not being in the know or what exactly the man meant.

“Well, it’s a small world I guess,” you wrapped up awkwardly, “It was nice to see you,” you added, able to feel Taeyong’s calculating gaze.

Sighing to yourself, you took a sip of your tea, inviting Taeyong to ask whatever he was going to ask.

“Were you popular in high school?”

“No,” you huffed, “Not really anyway- I’ve already told you about my high school- I wasn’t even friends with those guys... I can’t believe he recognized me.”

‘You’re just too pretty to be forgettable’ was what Taeyong had been thinking, but decided to keep it in. He could still feel their fleeting gazes glancing towards you as they sat down in laughter- He didn’t like that... What were they talking about? You? Were they laughing about you? Who knew what prude remarks they were making.

“I’d have dated her back in junior year if I knew she was gonna turn out like this-”

Feeling jealous, protective, and anxious he stood, causing you to look up at him, “Where are you going..?”

“Bathroom,” he informed before bending down, his hand coming to cradle your jaw as he sealed your lips together in a sweet kiss- Lips tasting of caramel.

Your lips followed his own as he drew back, swiping his thumb endearingly across your cheek before giving it a gentle pinch. You pulled your face from his grasp at the action, playfully pouting at your cup of tea as he left the table.

“I know right-”

The voices got louder as he approached.

“Could you keep your voices down?” he asked, yet it wasn’t really a question- His tone and gaze icy and curt before he brushed past their table to the restroom.

Yuta:

Tossing in jealous Yuta because that’s hot-

You didn’t have to be dating Nakamoto Yuta for him to feel as strongly as he did. He felt like you were already his, his sweet, his dear, his precious- And he wasn’t going to let the world or anyone else take that away from him. You loved him as a friend- The two of you had crossed the boundary of friendship a few times with late night kisses and drunken texts- But there was something about his possessive nature that made you hesitant to progress any further with him. Just being his friend you felt like a prisoner-

“I have to drop by my brothers’ dorm to give him back his battery pack-” you began, halting as you remembered.

“I’ll go with you,” Yuta chimed, slinging an arm around your shoulder, pulling you into him as his other hand pulled the drawstrings of the hoodie harshly, causing it to close around your face.

You stumbled into him mid-step as he did so, whining dramatically as your hands attempted to shove him aside.

“My brother doesn’t like you,” you interjected, pulling the hood free from your mess of hair as Yuta released you.

With a shrug he focused his attention on taming your hair, the action causing your face to heat.

“You shouldn’t go into the boys dorm alone,” he reprimanded, motherly as ever.

Jaehyun. Your brother’s roommate and soccer teammate of Yuta- was coming down the very path you were on the quad.

“Jaehyun!” you called out suddenly, happy to find a delivery man.

His eyes darted from his phone to you, his brows knitting together seconds later-

“Hey,” he began, slowly letting his gaze drift between the two of you before to your hoodie.

“Uh... Is that your hoodie?”

“I stole it from my brother- Don’t tell,” you chuckled.

Letting out a soft chuckle of amusement, Jaehyun shook his head, “That’s not your brother’s- That’s mine. I’d been looking for it all week-”

“Oh my God!” you gasped, dropping the tote bag from your shoulder, “I’m so sorry! I- It was on his side of the room... So I thought-”

“It’s fine,” he interjected, “It looks good on you-”

Yuta’s gaze narrowed at that remark and before he even had a moment to stop you, you were peeling off the hoodie and offering it to an astonished Jaehyun. You saw no issue with it, you were wearing a t-shirt underneath.

“I’m so so sorry! Also...” you began, picking up your bag, “Could you give this to my brother?”

“Sure-” Jaehyun nodded, scratching the nape of his neck as you pushed the goods into his hands before whipping around and grabbing the side of Yuta’s plaid jacket to bring him in tow with you-

“O my God... That was so embarrassing-” you rambled, feeling your face hot in embarrassment.

Suddenly, Yuta’s feet stopped moving, causing you to stop. He removed his phone from the pocket of his jacket before slipping it into his jeans, removing his coat.

“What are you doing?” you asked dumbly before catching on, “N-No, I’m not cold or anything-”

Silently, he draped it over your shoulders before his hands slid to the open front of it, grasping it before pulling you closer by the collar. His lips melded with your own, needy and passionate, jealousy brewing in his heart at even a simple encounter. His hands slid down to the zipper, zipping it quickly as he pulled away, your arms constricted, a smug expression on his face before he began walking again.

“H-Hey! GET THIS off me!” empty sleeves flopping by your sides as you hobbled after him.

The type to give you a little taste of his cold shoulder and reprimanding you for being careless [about making him jealous basically].

Kun:

Respectful and mature bub who wouldn’t do anything unless the two of you were dating, and for a while.

He couldn’t understand why Xioajun was so clingy towards you- I mean... He understood it in a sense since he was also in a way- But it was different. You were taken- Xiaojun should have taken a hint from him by now. Kun was constantly swooping in to interrupt the too of you, the hint of a small grin gracing his features each time to hide his unkindly thoughts towards the younger.

“Does Xiaojun bother you?” he questioned, watching as you pulled on your socks from the doorway of your bedroom, his shoulder resting against the frame.

“No?”

Cocking your head to the side, you couldn’t understand what Kun was hinting at or why he was asking.

“He’s always around you...”

“Yeah,” you chuckled, “We’re friends.”

You stood, ready to pass by your boyfriend and slip on your shoes by the doorway, yet he didn’t budge.

“Well...” he began, “I don’t want to sound ...clingy, but I don’t like it-”

“There’s nothing to worr-”

You were mid-roll of your eyes, when he cut you off, his warm hand enveloping around your own, “You’re mine, right?”

There was a hint of something swimming in his chocolate gaze, as if a saddened part of him needed reassurance.

“O-Of course,” you admitted, blushing to yourself from feeling caught off guard.

“Then I have a right to be like this,” he added, voice softer.

You open and shut your mouth dumbly, not sure what to say in response. Yes? He to a degree had a right to feel jealous- But... There was really no reason to be jealous over Xiaojun- Tugging your hand forward gently, he drew you to meet his lips, lilting his neck down. His kiss was delicate, lips plush and substantial, but movements gentle and loving. Your knees felt weak, as if it was your first kiss again.

“Don’t worry about it,” you nearly whispered as he drew back, “I’ll try to be mindful,” you added, referring to distancing yourself a bit so Kun wouldn’t get the wrong impression again.

“We’re going to be late...”

Doyoung:

You drew back to take a breath before your lips were smothered again, his nostrils flaring in anger and also the need for oxygen. You whined gently against his lips, attempting to pull back once more. You panted, out of breath before placing a hand on Doyoung’s chest to keep him at bay.

He leant back over the center console, resting his head back against the padded seat. Finished clicking in your seat belt you looked at him.

“When you dress like that,” he began, nodding forward, “guys get the wrong idea.”

“N-”

“Like thinking you’re single and something for them to ogle at,” he added, cutting you off, “You have no idea what kind of sleaze bags were looking at you and what they were thinking-”

His fox-like eyes flickered back to you, taking a moment to glance at the obvious cleavage you’d put on display.

“I dressed up for you- I just… I wanted to feel sexy and make you-”

“Make me what? Upset?”

“No! Proud to be with me- To be attractive to you…”

Raking a hand through his hair he let his gaze fall upon your own.

“Don’t you get it?” he began, jabbing the keys into the ignition, “You’re always attractive to me- I always want you- I’m always proud of you- But I want to be the only one to see.. You don’t deserve them looking at you like that and it makes me sick,” he trailed off, quickly casting his gaze forward as he pulled away from the curb.

You felt a tingle jolt along your spine at his words.

Ten:

He’d been giving you a snarky attitude all day; curt remarks and dismissive glances. Sighing for the final time as he pretended to ignore you, you let your tongue poke at your cheek in annoyance.

“Look at me,” you probed.

His fingers halted before smashing the pause button on his game, tossing the controller aside him on the sofa as he let out his own sigh, his gaze continuing to be fixed upon the TV screen.

“Why are you being like this?”

You hated how beautiful his profile was, the slope of his sharp nose and outline of his soft lips.

“Why won’t you even talk to me?” you added, raising your tone.

“If you want someone to talk to why don’t you ask Taeyong?” he quipped, voice laced with venom.

Huffing in exasperation, you let your hands fall to your hips.

“Are you serious?”

Finally… he turned his dark gaze towards you.

“Yeah,” he nearly shrugged, attitude as petty as ever.

“You’re such a child!” you shouted, unable to control your emotions as you stormed away, frustrated and wanting to cry.

He paused for a moment before standing.

“I’m childish?” he asked, tone brazen and perplexed.

You stopped, turning on your heel-

“Then what?” he questioned, “Is Taeyong the man?”

Before you could spit out a reply he grabbed onto your elbow.

“I’m the only man you should see,” he barked.

“You are my only man…” you murmured, hurt he thought otherwise.

Cupping your face, he pulled you into him, lips messily finding one other before passionately embracing.

Omg I hate this one…

Jaehyun:

Far enough. Was what Jaehyun had been thinking.

His jaw was set, his lips pursing each time his eyes narrowed slightly, causing one of his dimples to gently show.

Sure, it was Taeyong’s birthday, but that didn’t mean he had the right to flirt with you-

“Is that right?” you giggled, after listening to one of Taeyong’s stories.

Your fork idly toyed with the pasta in your dish as you gave Taeyong your attention. The rest of the lunch table seemed chatty, side for Jaehyun whom pouted by your side. His silence was slowly steeling your attention away from Taeyong as you began to worry.

“You’ll have to excuse me for a moment,” you interjected, glancing towards the bathroom.

Your plan was simple, take a break from Taeyong by using the restroom before retuning and turning to Jae to give your attention and ask what was up. As you stood Johnny began speaking to Taeyong, allowing you the perfect cover to escape. As you did, someone snagged you by your belt loop. Your forlorn boyfriend looking up at you with eyes you couldn’t place.

“Where are you going?”

“Bathroom,” you whispered, your brows furrowing in concern at his oddness.

He released you, standing himself to follow you.

“Why are you being so weird?” you inquired, rounding a corner with him.

“I’m jealous,” he admitted.

“Wh- How? What’s there to be jealous about?” you stumbled.

Instead of answering or explaining, he cornered you against the wall once the two of you were hidden from sight in the hall of the bathroom.

“Babe,” you began, your voice lowering.

Being under his gaze in such close quarters you felt trapped, trying to think of what he’d want to hear to be reassured. You bit your lip in thought. Warm lips clashed with your own, not too aggressive, nor gently. The breath that had gotten caught in your throat came out as a sigh against his lips as his hands slid from the wall on either side of your shoulders to your hips.

“We can’t do this here,” you nearly whispered, your lips brushing his own in temptation.

Ignoring you, his hasty lips met yours again, causing you to let out a small moan of protest.

“Oh- God-” Ten sputtered, shielding his eyes from the entrance of the hallway as he saw the two of you.

Your fist came in contact with Jae’s pec as he broke away from you.

...When you came back to the table you could feel everyone’s gaze upon the two of you, lowering your gaze in embarrassment as Jaehyun wore a smug grin.

Win:

Cold shoulders were never fun, especially when dealing with your best friend Sicheng. He sat several rows in front of you in the lecture hall instead of beside you, scrolling through his phone and clearly avoiding your texts. You bit your pen cap in annoyance as you stared at the back of his head.

“Maybe they broke up-”

It was a hushed whisper, but you were able to here it.

“Just go talk to her-”

Evidently Sicheng heard it too, his thumb having stopped scrolling and his ears perked.

“Hey,” a gentle voice said, taking the seat beside you.

“H-Hi,” you fumbled, baffled as to why Mark Lee was sitting next to you.

“This seat’s not taken, is it?”

“No,” you enunciated, making sure it was clearly loud enough for Sicheng to hear in an attempt to be petty.

“Cool- Well, uh, there’s this party at Alpha Delta Si later,” he began, “If you wanted to go, you could be my plus one- Honestly, we’ve had this class together all semester and I thought you were cute-”

You were flattered by his invitation, but frat parties weren’t really your scene.

Glancing over his shoulder at the encounter, Sicheng was caught by your gaze.

“Oh- Uh, I’ll have to think about it, parties like that aren’t really my thing-” you declined politely.

“O-Oh,” Mark nodded, retracting to his seat in thought as the professor entered.

The entire lesson you and Sicheng fumed with thoughts of each other, unable to concentrate. The lesson seemed to end in record time, not that you were paying attention.

“So, um, if parties aren’t your thing we could do something like uh... get ice cream, or-”

Once you’d stood to stuff your belongings in your bag, Mark was back at it again. However, your sleeve was yanked by the ever so thoughtful Sicheng, pulling you from the row and tugging you up the stairs of the lecture hall. You stumbled after him dumbly until he shoved the door open with such force you were scared for a moment.

“Stop-” you shot, pulling from his grip.

“Was I interrupting something?” he asked bitterly.

“What the fuck is your problem? I thought you-”

You could feel the gaze of several classmates in the hallway, feeling embarrassed. Behind you, Sicheng saw the door of the lecture hall swing open with none other than Mark and Jeno, his eyes narrowing as he caught Mark’s gaze. Swooping in, his hand clamped over your forearm to pull you to meet his lips, his blunt nails digging into your sweater. He was overwhelming, figure looming over your own, hasty lips pushing against your own, you felt lost in your shock.

Jungwoo:

“Let me up,” you huffed for what felt like the fifth time.

A hum of disapproval left the boy who’d constricted himself around you.

“Woo- I’ll be late for my shift...” you tried, sighing to yourself.

“Don’t go,” he murmured.

“I have to go- My supervisor will be mad if I’m late again...”

“Your supervisor,” he began, sitting up, his fluff of hair bouncing, unfit of his narrowing eyes, “I don’t like him.”

“It doesn’t matter if you like him or not-”

You struggled in his hold, but he draped a leg over your hips to bar your escape, hugging you closer.

“He’s creepy.”

“Yeah, he is,” you agreed with an airy chuckle, “But that doesn’t matter, I need to keep my wage-”

Rolling on top of you, you let out a whine under his weight. Cutely, he blew the hair out of your face, not daring to remove his hands from wrapped around you for fear of you escaping. You giggled and writhed at his actions, shaking the hair from your face. He plopped a soft kiss upon your lips, smothering your own before drawing back momentarily.

“Don’t go.”

His lips didn’t give yours time to spit out a retort, softly melding with yours with passion. Had it been any other day or any other occasion, you would have skipped whatever event there was to stay with him, but you couldn’t miss today... Shaking your head to shake his lips off your own, he groaned against your lips, unrelenting. You couldn’t help but let out a chuckle of anguish against his lips, following it with a low whine. He bit your lip in retaliation gently, shifting on top of you as you squealed and wiggled beneath him.

“You’re being childish,” you gasped, nostrils flaring with the need for air.

Lucas:

“Baby-”

Yukhei’s deep voice reverberated through your being as his lips brushed your ear.

“Why are you watching that?”

In your defense, you hadn’t searched for it, rather it was in your suggestions and you just so happened to be curious by the amount of views it had. A Doyoung, Boss focus cam- Nor were you expecting your friend-with-benefits to be up so early... He usually slept well past ten.

“I couldn’t sleep,” you partially lied.

“Do you like him?”

“Uh,” you stalled, glancing over your bare shoulder, “It’s not like I know him-”

“I mean,” he corrected, “Do you think he’s sexy?”

Your expression morphed into one of confusion at his most likely horny what-the-fuckery.  If you said yes would he set up a threesome?

“Yeah.”

A warm hand slid over your bare arm, trailing to your shoulder before moving to your throat. He didn’t like that answer- Though the two of you weren’t official, he had real feelings for you- Which is why he called you baby, and told you to stay the night when you’d start searching for your clothes the night before...

“What about me?” he groaned gently.

Dropping your phone aside, you rolled over to your side, your hand going to his wrist to stop the growing pressure he applied.

“Yeah, you’re sexy,” you rolled your eyes, knowing he was immaturely jealous.

“Am I sexier?”

He drew you closer, his nose brushing against your own as he awaited your answer.

“I’m not sure,” you teased, withholding a giggled at how his eyes widened.

He let out a chuckle too, able to catch onto your teasing attitude.

“I must be since I’m the one with you and not him,” he muttered with a smile, rolling over on top.

His lips claimed your own in an arduously slow kiss, his hand fumbling to reach over and turn off your phone.

Mark:

Alone, in bed, on his phone- Mark’s evening was rather bland. He’d been on a call with you while you’d been getting ready to come over, content with just listening to your voice.

“Why do you take so long to get ready?” he questioned with a sigh, “Just come over already.”

“I have to look good,” you countered, “You said Johnny was home...”

And here it was, the recent reason for Mark’s despise of Johnny Suh, one of his closest friends.

“Bro- So what... You’re coming over to see me, not him-”

That was true-

“Yeah, but if I do see him-”

“Whatever, just hurry up,” Mark complained, his tone snappish as he hung up.

It was hard getting friend-zoned, let alone having the girl you like be into your best friend instead.

Fifteen minutes later you were checking your reflection on your phone before the door, collecting yourself before ringing the doorbell.

Answering it, Mark felt his heart clench- You looked ridiculously cute, glossy lips, curled lashes, slight wind-blown hair, and the oversized Puma hoodie you’ d bought last week to match your leggings. He wish you were getting all dolled up for him, causing a pang of jealousy to stab him.

“I’ll pay for delivery since you paid last time,” you remarked, stepping through the doorway to remove your shoes as your eyes searched for the giant of your affection.

Yet he was nowhere in sight... Making your way to Mark’s room with your bag, dropping it to his bed and plugging your phone into his charger. You heard the distinct sound of the refrigerator opening, bottles rattling- Perhaps it was Johnny. Turning on your heel, you planned upon seeing whom it was, but a Mark Lee was blocking your path, having just entered the threshold of his room.

“Lemme see,” you pried, your brows furrowing as he closed the door behind himself.

“It’s Taeil,” he lied, knowing what you were after.

You still wanted to check for yourself, even give the senior a greeting.

“Uh, let me through,” you paused as Mark remained in his spot.

“Why’s it always go to be about him?”

“I- What do you-”

“You know what I mean,” he interjected, raising his voice, “All of a sudden everything’s about him-”

“That’s not true,” you tried, folding your arms defensively.

“Yes it is,” he retorted, taking a step toward you, his bad attitude and mood nearly radiating off his figure, “We can’t even hang out like we used to because you’re always preoccupied with him-”

“I can’t help that I like him!” you shot back.

It took only another step and Mark was in front of you, his hands flying to grip your shoulders as his nose brushed yours for only a millisecond- You couldn’t contemplate what was taking place and before it registered, his lips were on your own, sticky lip gloss transferring.

[stargazing-enby]

Drarry prompt: "Well, that's a creative way to say hello..."

Thanks love!

Drarry, past Hinny | Teen and up | 1.2k words | Post-Hogwarts, Anxious Harry Potter, Smug Draco Malfoy | Read on AO3 | Read part 1 on Tumblr

This is a continuation of my one-shot An Enlightening Session.

***

It all happened in a flash. One second Harry was shouting Draco’s name across Diagon Alley, earning all kinds of looks from the people who were enjoying the sunny day in the streets, and the next he was tripping and crashing against Draco with a gasp.

He wanted to check what the heck he’d tripped over, but was distracted by a cold, slimy feeling spreading all over his chest. “Ew, what…?” He tried to put some space between Draco and him, but his legs were not cooperating. Luckily, Draco grasped his forearms and steadied them both.

“My ice cream, that’s what,” Draco deadpanned, looking far too composed for a man whose robes were all covered in blue goo. “That was a creative way to say hello, I’ll give you that. Do try not to ruin my dessert next time, though. It was my favourite flavour.”

Harry took a step back, pulling his soaked shirt away from his chest.

“Sorry,” he muttered. “The Ministry should really start fining people for littering…”

Draco arched an eyebrow at Harry’s lame excuse, then reached for his wand and cleaned both their clothes with a swish, saying, “So what did you want? I hope it was worth the ice cream.”

“Uh… well, not really,” Harry mumbled. “Just — you know, to catch up.”

“Harry Potter catching up? Please. You wouldn’t do that if we hadn’t seen each other in months, and we had coffee together just last Saturday.”

Harry clenched his fists to keep his hands from playing with the hems of his shirt. “Yeah, coffee,” he quickly corrected himself. “That’s what I meant. We should have coffee.”

“Right now?” Draco chuckled.

“If you’re free.”

Draco shook his head. “Whatever it is just spit it, Potter. Preferably while walking — I’d like to buy a few books before Flourish and Blotts closes today. And yes, silly, we can have coffee afterwards.”

“Okay. Cool.” Everything is cool. Just tell him already. As they started walking, Harry braced himself. He took a deep breath, clenched his fists and said,  "Do you… do you know that feeling of not wanting to get into the shower? But when you finally do, you’d do anything to stay there forever? Like, you just feel so warm and calm that even though you’re wasting water and it’s probably a bad idea to stay five more minutes you just do it, because how the hell are you supposed to make sensible decisions when you’re feeling so fucking good?”

“Potter,” Draco said, a small, curious smirk playing at the corners of his lips, “What are you trying to tell me, you babbling nincompoop?”

“That… um.” Fuck. All the courage, all the ache and desperation that had been consuming him since his conversation with Jane, were rapidly abandoning him, and he swallowed. “That you’re — you’re sort of like… like a warm shower. Like finally taking that warm shower when I was too tired to move from my bed. I guess. If that makes sense.”

It doesn’t. Harry, you idiot, what are you even sa—

“Of course it does.” Draco raised his chin with a grin. “But you didn’t need that many words just to tell me I’m hot. I already knew that.”

Harry spluttered, his skin suddenly burning. “That was not—”

“Relax, you idiot,” Draco said lightly, “I know.”

Harry huffed. “Arsehole.”

They walked in silence for a few seconds, then Draco asked, “So, I’m like a warm shower, right? Does that mean I’m a guilty pleasure or that I’m an annoying necessity then?”

“Ugh, can’t we just forget I said all that?”

Draco huffed. “You wish.”

“Oi, stop throwing my own words at me!” Harry pinched him, and Draco giggled and elbowed him in the ribs.

“It’s not my fault you were such a drama queen as a kid!”

“Oh, I was the drama queen?”

“Absolutely,” Draco said solemnly. “Though I must admit, it was quite charming at times.”

“Shut up, you twat.” Harry suddenly felt like his heart was on fire. They’d stopped walking, and he realised they were at Flourish and Blott’s — except right behind the shop, in a narrow alley that was deserted except for a tabby cat that was eyeing them suspiciously.

“Okay,” Draco said, his voice soft but confident. “I’ll shut up if you really want me to.”

Harry’s breath caught when warm fingers brushed his. The touch was tender, but it felt piercing, and like a hot wave of something crashing against him.

“Draco.” The name fell from his lips, breathless, panicky. “You don’t want to do that,” he urged, pulling away from the caress. “The reason I wanted to talk to you today—”

“I know.”

That cut Harry’s verbal incontinence short.

“You — know.”

“Duh.” Even though Harry couldn’t move — couldn’t face Draco as his mind reeled trying to gather the meaning of those words — Draco reached for his hand and intertwined their fingers with a strong grasp. “You’ve never been particularly good at hiding your feelings toward me, whatever their nature,” Draco said, so casually Harry almost wanted to laugh. “Pining suits you, by the way. You’re really cute when you’re flustered.”

Harry stared at nothing, his eyes fixated on the shape of a rock on the wall beside them. His hand felt sweaty, but he didn’t have it in him to pull away. “Why… why didn’t you—”

“Don’t be an idiot. How long has it been since you and Ginny broke up?”

“Uh… about two months now?”

“Exactly,” Draco said. “I didn’t want you… I didn’t want us to rush into anything, Harry. I didn’t want to be that person to you.”

“Then — then why are you holding my hand?”

Draco finally faced him, looking oddly relaxed. And smug, the little shit. “Because you wouldn’t come mumbling and stuttering about it if you weren’t ready to take a step.”

“Oh.” Harry felt a grin pull at his lips. “So... You like me.”

Draco let out a breathless laugh. “I do. Don’t ask me why. I happen to have a very embarrassing weakness for charming idiots.”

Harry bit his lip. Hesitantly, he took a step forward. Draco seemed completely unfazed by the invasion of his personal space, and in fact smiled a little bit wider when Harry gently rested his hands around his arms.

Could he kiss Draco? Could that actually happen? After everything he’d gone through, after almost convincing himself Draco would always remain out of reach, could he really…?

His body leaned forward on his own accord. His heart jumped, his eyes fell closed, and then—

And then there was a hand on his chest, holding him back.

He opened his eyes to a slightly flustered, yet still way too smug Draco.

“I don’t kiss before first dates,” he declared.

“What? What did you bring me to a deserted alley for, then?” Draco smirked, and Harry pushed him playfully on the chest. “You bloody tease!”

“Books, Potter. Then coffee. Then we can go somewhere nice and comfy that doesn’t smell like cat pee and you can show me exactly how much you love me.”

Before Harry could protest, Draco took his hand and walked them back to the busy street.

[angrylizardjacket]

sweet chaos {Brian May}

Anons asked (in a roundabout way, I lost the original prompts): Brian/Reader where she has a crush on him but he thinks she’s into another one of the band members, and when he confronts her, he tells her he has feelings too? Also, Brian/Reader where they meet in the studio and there’s flirting and they end up together.

A/N: 3640 words. Something about Brian just makes me wanna write a lot apparently. Y/N is just.... so chaotic. ANYWAYS, so this is the fic I wrote last night and then lost, but I’ve managed to salvage it, and I’m happy with how it turned out. I’m so sorry to the two beautiful anons whose prompts were lost to my mistake last night, just know this goes out to you.

“Deaks, when did you get cool?” You gaze around the studio with an almost awed expression, hands shoved in the pockets of your jacket, before finally turning your grin on John, who was crouched by his bass case, looking up at you with a singular raised eyebrow.

“I’ve always been cool.” John was adamant about this, pulling out his bass and clicking the case shut. “You just don’t appreciate me.” After a moment, in which you rolled your eyes at him, he secured the strap on his instrument and looked up at you with an amused smile. “A year ago.” He conceded, and your eyes went wide.

“A ye- John Francis Deacon-” You cut yourself off, spluttering in surprise.

“Not my middle name.” He interjected, though you just talked over him, bouncing on the balls of your feet.

“You’ve been in a band for a year and you didn’t think to tell me? I’ve been living with you for like a week!” You crowed, and your theatrics had earned both a chuckle from John, and the attention of the three other boys in the room; the rest of the band.

“You care to introduce us to your friend?” The blonde one asked, eyebrows raised, confusion clear on his face.

“If I must,” John gave you a long suffering smile, before turning on his heel to face the others, “Roger, Brian, Freddie, this is Y/N. Y/N, this is Roger, Brian, and Freddie, the band.” He gestured between you all, and it takes a moment for him to finally finish processing everything you had said. “How have you known me this long and not known my middle name?”

And, okay, he did have a point; you’d grown up living next door to each other, had been practically joined at the hip since some kid had tried to push you off the swing beside him, and so you’d pushed the kid back, yelling ‘go away, he’s my friend’. You been through primary school and high school together, and it was only when John went to uni and you took a year to backpack across Europe, that you really spent a meaningful amount of time apart.

“Is it Jonathan?” You asked, feigning innocence, and John had to actually stop, where he was tuning his bass to suppress a smile. You couldn’t look at him, if you did, you knew you would just break into a fit of giggles. Instead, you took the moment to really give a good look at the band. The blonde one behind the drums, Roger as he’d been introduced, didn’t seem to know what to do with you, and instead just went back to setting up his equipment. Freddie, who had been quietly warming up his voice on the other side of the room, had paused for the moment, analysing you with a serious look before his gaze came up to meet yours. He gave an approving nod, and went back to his work, already bouncing with energy and anticipation. The guitarist, Brian, just seemed amused by the banter, looking between you and John with a loose grip on his guitar.

“Yes, my mother named me John Jonathan.” His words were practically dripping with sarcasm, but you kept your composure, not even cracking a smile.

“I’ve met Lilian, I wouldn’t put it past her..” You clicked your tongue, raising your eyebrows at John. After a beat, his eyes went wide and he tried to protest, but your facade cracked and you chuckled fondly at his exasperation, and you hear Brian laugh too, before he goes back to also tuning his guitar. “I’m kidding, Deaks, you know I love your mum,” your waved him off with a fond smile, making a move to leave the recording studio, but thought better of it, turning back with a mischievous grin. John’s expression immediately became suspicious. “And of course I know your middle name; it’s Dick.”

“Richard.” He corrected automatically, the word accompanied by an eyeroll. You heard Roger snort out a laugh.

“How do you get Dick from Richard?” Freddie asked with a confused frown, stopping his pacing. The moment the words left his mouth, you’re pretty sure you can see John spontaneously form a headache, and your grin sharpens.

“You ask him nicely.” You hear both you and Brian say at the same time. There’s a beat of silence, and you both look at each other, sharing an amused moment of camaraderie, much to John’s exasperation.

“I like this one.” You say, voice firm, pointing directly at Brian. His smile widened before he ducked his head, going back to his guitar. John had just started shaking his head at you, but he was smiling so you knew you weren’t in any real trouble.

In the sound studio, the tech they had on, as well as the other two girls, Mary and Kristin, they introduced themselves as, greeted you warmly enough, and thus started one of the longest and best nights of your life so far.

John was good at bass, much better than you had realised, much better than he had any right to be, at least that’s how you phrase it in your head when you’re resting your chin on his shoulder, listening to the playback of his latest version of the song they’d been working at for about half an hour. Eyes glassy, your mouth remained shut as the boys bandied about musical terms and ideas that you didn’t really understand, though you knew you’d appreciate their end product. John sort of loved that about you, your ability to walk the fine line between irritating and lovable, yet also knowing when to keep your mouth shut if you didn’t think you could contribute to a conversation as well as you’d like.

“You’ve been awfully quiet, what do you think, Y/N?” Brian’s smiling up at you from where he’s sat in a wheelie chair they’d co-opted from the office in the next room. Snapping back to reality, you take a step back from John, looking to the now-empty studio, and then to your best friend.

“What do I think?” It takes all of your effort not to just blurt out exactly what you had been thinking; I watched John eat a worm once and now he’s making kick ass music and I don’t know how to consolidate those two mental images of him in my mind. “Great.” You answer instead. “I think it sounds great.” After a beat, you duck your gaze, laughing a little self consciously, “I don’t know a lot about music so I can’t really offer much feedback.” 

“Well, if you stick around, we can probably teach you a think or two.” He shrugged, but there was clearly an offer in his words, and you smile, before turning and raising your eyebrows at John, as silent question asking if you could stay.

“He’s the one who made the offer, not me.” John just put his hands up in mock surrender, pushing you a few steps closer to Brian as he maneuvered around you to head back into the recording studio. “She’s your problem now, Bri.” He called over his shoulder, giving you a sunny smile, which only served to make you irritated.

“Problem?” You huffed, before stalking over to the sound desk, leaning over it as you turned on the microphone. “Don’t disrespect me like that, John Jonathan, I watched you eat a worm!” And to that, John, along with the rest of the band and those in the sound studio, laughed, and you felt the tension leave you as you cracked a smile. After a moment, you see John pulling up his bass, and there’s a gentle tap on your left hip, and you turn, seeing the sound technician waiting with pointedly raised eyebrows. Stepping back quickly, you move to make room for him, promptly falling right onto Brian, who was the one who had been trying to get you to move in the first place.

John’s started playing again so no-one else hears Brian’s quiet grunt of discomfort at your landing. Scrambling to stand up and apologise, you hear him quietly laugh, reaching out to take hold your wrist, not to keep you there, more like a reassurance.

“It’s fine, you’re my problem, after all.” And despite the fact that you resent being called a problem at all, the way he’s smiling at you, the way he says it, well maybe it didn’t sound too bad.

The sound got more experimental as the night wore on, and once they’d reached the tipping point while recording the tenuously titled ‘Seven Seas of Rhye’ the night became electric. You spent your time often on your feet, bouncing around the space, listening with a grin as the others would suggest a new, eclectic ideas. If you weren’t in Brian’s lap in the wheelie chair, which you’d claimed as your seat for the night, you were dancing with Mary, or John, or even Roger and Kristin, you’re pretty sure you’ve been a part of something truly extraordinary by hearing this album being created.

“Alright, alright,” when the night wraps up and John comes to collect you, you’re with Brian, chatting to Mary with his chin on your shoulder, “time to head home, dear.” Mary excused herself from the conversation, heading off to find Freddie, while you turned and gave John’s outstretched hand an unimpressed look.

“You cut me loose, Deaks, I was in the market for a new best mate and you pushed me at poor Brian here,” shaking your head, you lay the faux disappointment on thick, crossing your arms and leaning back just a little further against Brian, who was grinning with amusement at the whole situation, “this is really all your fault.” You added, but John just rolled his eyes, smiling exasperatedly at you.

“It’s fine by me, I’d love to have you off my sofa, but I just thought I’d let you know,” and he cast his gaze towards the recording studio, “Brian lives with Roger.” He said pointedly as Kristin’s high, sweet laugh rang through the air, and you saw Roger was grinning confidently, showing her how to twirl a drumstick in favour of packing up his drum kit. Standing abruptly, you took John’s free hand.

“Yeah, probably a good call.” Brian’s expression soured, but then he turned back to face you, smiling brightly. “Lovely to meet you, though; we’ll be seeing you again, right?”

“You guys play gigs?” You asked, and he nodded. “Well then, now that John’s let me in on this dirty little secret of his, I think you’d be hard pressed to stop me.” And with a final, playful wink, you loop your arm through John’s and leave the studio.

And, well, you do see them again. You see them a lot; you’re there every weekend, at gigs, sometimes in rehearsals, you become as regular of a fixture as Mary. The boys liked having you around, you were friendly and bright, and you actually seemed to bring John out of his shell a little. In general, you found it easy to be around them, being close to them, and soon enough, you’ll find yourself comfortable enough to just lean against them when you’re standing close, at bars or during a break in rehearsals. Casual hugs, arms around shoulders, it’s a staple of your existence with the band, which you love because - yay! Human contact! - but with it comes a pretty big detractor.

It’s damn hard to establish whether or not the goofy guitarist who smiles like goddamn sunshine, and who you may have an enormous crush on, is even remotely interested in you as more than anything more than a friend. You’d really tried not to like him like that, for John’s sake at least; he was your best friend, you couldn’t jeopardise your friendship with him, and his band mate, but the heart wants what it wants, and yours wants Brian to never stop smiling at you the way he does when he’s on stage and he sees you cheering for them in the crowd. He’s always the first to hug you when you arrive to a show, never one to brush you off when you tuck your arm into his when you’re both waiting for drinks at the bar, he plays along well when you’re doing a bit, and he’s always the first to drag you away whenever you’re about to get in a scrap with Roger.

That was the main problem you had with the band; Roger was far too easy to wind up, and you were far too willing to kick that hornet’s nest whenever the whim struck you. He respects you well enough, likes you well enough, is even willing to share the armchair in the hall outside the rehearsal room when you two are the first ones to arrive, and the others show up and you’re both arguing over an article in the paper but he’s got an arm around you for stability. It’s not that you don’t get along with Roger, it’s just sometimes fun to watch him get worked up over a joke. Like when you’d told him you’d seen better drumming in a high school marching band. You’d almost copped a drumstick to the face for that one, but you’d caught it just before it had landed, and after a beat of silence in which the both of look a little impressed at your reflexes, you both break out into unintelligible arguing, drawing the attention of both John and Brian who had been chatting at the side of the room. 

You’re about a foot away from the drum kit, brandishing the drum stick and threatening to shove it somewhere unpleasant, and Roger was standing, looking a little like he was two seconds from crashing directly through the drum kit to tackle you, when you feel a pair of arms around you, and you’re being dragged away. Looking around, you see John advancing on Roger like he’s a spooked horse, trying to calm him down.

Once you realise it’s Brian, you stop trying to get away, and simply let yourself be walked backwards until the two of you are near the door, and he turns you, arms still around you, so he’s blocking Roger from your sight.

“Why do you have to rile him up like that?” Brian asks, and you turn around so that you’re toe to toe.

“It’s not my fault he doesn’t know how to take a joke.” You grumbled, crossing your arms awkwardly as they’re trapped between the two, though Brian doesn’t loosen his grip, in fact, he seems rather endeared by your antics.

“Can I have that?” He asks, eyes dropping to the drumstick in your hands, and you snorted. You can hear Roger in the background angrily murmuring that he’s fine.

“I caught it, it’s mine, fair and square.” You say, voice lofty. “It’s a trophy.” You added, and that set Roger off again, just as Freddie walked through the door.

“It’s a trophy, my ass! Give me back my drum stick, you knob!” He hollers, and you use the element of surprise to shift both yourself and Brian to face the enraged drummer, though he doesn’t let go of you. John’s got his arms around Roger, but he’s not being held nearly as securely as you.

“This trophy will go up your ass! Call me lazy again!” You dared at the top of your lungs, even as you were being hauled backwards. “Let go of me, Brian!” You protested as Roger broke free of John and started wrestling one of his cymbals from it’s stand, to both John and Freddie’s shouted protests. “You throw that cymbal and I’m keeping it too!” Are the last words you get in before the door to the rehearsal space shuts and you hear it lock, presumably by Freddie. Brian lets go of her and promptly sat himself on the armchair in the hallway, looking like he was trying to process what had just happened.

With your back against the door, you twirl the drumstick absentmindedly, a skill you’d picked up quite by accident, simply by virtue of having seen Roger show off so much. It’s not something that goes unnoticed by Brian, but he doesn’t comment on it.

“Why?” Is all he asks, and you finally look up. When your gazes meet, you lob the drumstick gently over to the side of the room, already bored with it.

“He was being a dickhead.” You sighed, as if it were answer enough, letting the tension out of your shoulders and resting your head against the door. Silence stretched between you, and when your gaze shifted from the ceiling to look at Brian, he was waiting with a half-smile for an elaboration. “Rog told me that if I was going to just laze around I should start looking cute or being helpful,” already your explanation made far too much sense, and Brian chuckled. “So I said I only help out people with talent, and that the rest of you were fine-” you don’t know what to make of his pleased little smile, but you’re already getting to your feet and making your way over to him, “and of course he feels the need to prove himself.” You say, sitting down on Brian’s lap. Sitting sideways, you hang your legs over the arm of the armchair and rest your cheek on his shoulder. It’s automatic, the way he rests a hand on your thigh, the other coming to wrap around you in support.

“Wouldn’t have mattered what he’d played, would it?” You can hear him smiling, and he already knows your answer.

“He implied that I was lazy and not cute.” You made a face, like you couldn’t believe it, even after the fact. “Me!” Brian couldn’t help but chuckle at that, though his heart wasn’t in it.

“I have to ask, is this some weird, passive-aggressive flirting technique you’re using on him?” And when he says it, you sit bolt upright, frowning deeply, flushing with embarrassment; he thinks you’re flirting with Roger of all people?

“I don’t know how to flirt with people I do have a thing for, let alone Roger.” But as soon as the words left your mouth, you felt your face heat up further, and you scrambled to a standing position. “What makes you say that?” 

“Well you do talk about his butt a lot.” Brian himself seemed unable to look at you, and you started pacing.

“I threaten his ass a lot, I’m not- Is this about what I said about the drum stick?” You asked, eyeing the singular wooden drum stick where it’s lying on the floor. You don’t pick it up.

“You also- the spinny thing he does with it. It’s a thing he does to show off, like his signature, I just-” He’s floundering a little bit, and you find yourself smiling despite the situation.

Coming to a halt, you stand, facing the chair, fond smile on your face as you see where he’s a little flustered. Heartbeat thumping in your ears, you throw caution to the wind, just a little.

“If it was just as easy to learn guitar as it was to twirl a single drumstick, I’d’ve been Jimmy Page months ago from watching you.” You half smiled, heart in your throat. He finally looks at you, radiating pride despite his bashfulness, which is a sweet look on him, and you gently step forward, settling back down into the chair and curling up by him.

“I like seeing you in the crowd, you know?” He murmured, tapping out a gentle rhythm with his fingers on your thigh.

“I like watching you play.” You respond, before admitting. “It’s one of my favourite things in the world, seeing you up there, all confident; you’re very talented, you know-” and you look up to gauge his reaction, but he cuts you off with a kiss. Relief floods through you as you kiss him back, indulging in what you’d been hoping for for what was months at this point, since the first studio recording.

“Y/N-” John unlocks and open the door in quick succession, takes one look at where you and Brian had just broken apart, caught absolutely red handed, and immediately shuts the door again. You and Brian take a moment to look at each other, processing what had just happened, before bursting into laughter again, which quickly devolves into more kissing, until he’s gently moving you off of him, reminding you that he still had the rest of band practice to attend.

John is smug during the entire drive back to his house where you’re still crashing on his sofa, a few days away from the paperwork for your own place being finalized.

“I knew it.” Is all he says when you finally snap and tell him that smug, righteous asshole wasn’t a good look on him.

Freddie caught on almost directly after John; he’d picked it up from context clues, and also because at your next gig, Mary seemed to know without you or Brian barely speaking two words to each other. She’d leaned over to Freddie during one of the breaks and asked how long the two of you had actually been together, saying that she’d meant to ask before but it’d never been so obvious. When Freddie tells you this, you almost do a spit-take.

“You’re joking.” You respond, eyes shining with amusement. “What? Is he looking at me differently?” You cheeks flush as you look over your shoulder at where he’s waiting by the bar, and he looks back at you, shooting you a bright grin that made your heart flutter. Looking back, Freddie’s wearing a knowing smile.

“No, he’s always looked at you like that.”

[ninzied]

another kind of goodbye

for @carry-the-sky. happy birthday, my friend! have a little post-cancellation kastle fic.

It’s three months, give or take, when Frank lets himself think about her again. Really think about her. Not in the passing kind of way, where he’s walking down some street and sees a bouquet of gardenias, like the kind he’d almost gotten her instead of the roses that day. Or when he’s sipping on coffee, and Karen’s face flashes like a mirage at him across the cheap Formica table – blonde hair almost white under the shit diner lighting, but those eyes still so blue as she told him he would never lie to her.

So – okay, so he thinks about her. He thinks about her.

(He wonders if she—)

Frank eventually makes his way back to the city again, after. Another day, another job. Madani thinks he’s meant for something greater than this – than picking off these scum-of-the-earth kinds of assholes that litter the streets of a place like New York.

He can’t believe that he was meant for greater, but. Sometimes, he does wonder. If a part of him – whatever part of him that’s not still buried deep down in the ground with his family – was meant to come back here. To walk these streets and feel the pull of her, always, even when that’s all he can afford to feel.

He tells himself that has to be enough.

He’s been laying low, since his return. Coughed up some cash for a three-hundred-square-footer in Brooklyn, but he crosses the bridge to the city most days, maybe even finds his way to Hell’s Kitchen from time to time too. It’s risky, he knows. If Murdock catches wind of him, they’d be lucky to walk away from each other in one piece. And Karen…

There’d be a different kind of hell to pay, if Karen ever found out.

His phone gives a single buzz in his pocket as he’s hunkering his way down 47th, and he stops in his tracks, nearly colliding with an elderly woman in the middle of the sidewalk.

“Excuse me!” she says in a shrill voice, bag clutched tight to her chest.

“Apologies, ma’am,” he nods as she makes a show of putting as much distance between them as possible, and then he fishes his phone out, hesitating for one absurd moment before glancing down at the screen.

Back in town yet, Castle?

He barks out a laugh. Chrissakes, Madani.

His phone buzzes again.

I have a job for you, if you’re still interested.

“Still,” mutters Frank, with a scoffing shake of his head. He thinks he admires her perseverance, but Madani’s gotta know she’s only wasting her breath.

He cuts south down 10th, toward Lincoln Tunnel. It’s a brisk day, and the wind on his face feels sharper than usual, considering he hasn’t bled much there in a while. He jams his hands deeper into his pockets, ignoring the insistent drone of Madani’s follow-up call.

He’s got a date with a park bench on the wrong side of town, and if he closes his eyes, he can pretend it’s the same bridge overlooking the water, and when he opens them again Karen’ll be there, waiting for him.

…

His closest call comes with, of all people, the lawyer. Not Red – the other one. Franklin Nelson.

Frank’s emerging with coffee two storefronts down just as another door opens, and he’s cursing himself for not seeing the signs when out tumbles Nelson with his back turned, adjusting his tie against the wind.

“Foggy bear, wait!” someone else is laughing, and a blonde lady steps out to chase after him, slinging a purse over her shoulder and reaching with her other hand to link around his elbow.

“I told him this was gonna make me late for work,” grumbles Nelson, but without any heat to the words. “Dad’s surprise party isn’t until tomorrow, don’t know why this couldn’t have waited – oh, crap, I forgot I told Karen I’d pick up some coffee—”

Nelson’s about-facing sharply, girlfriend following closely behind. He doesn’t appear to notice Frank crouched down in a corner by the 7-Eleven, hood obscuring half his face as he trains his eyes on the ground by their feet. The girl unearths some coins from her bag as they pass, clinking them onto the lid of Frank’s coffee cup without seeming to hear his low mutter of thanks.

He’s leapt up the moment he hears the door latch shut, brushing the coins into his palm as he goes.

He leaves them with a guy camped out by the train stop, a dog lifting her head from their blankets to blink sleepy eyes up at Frank, and he walks away harder, takes the steps two at a time and wishes – God he wishes—

…

Another text from Madani.

He shuts his phone off. Goes back to retrieve it ten seconds later from the trash can that he’d dumped it in, wiping it down and scowling as her message pops up on the screen.

Castle – offer still stands, FYI.

“You should call her back,” advises a man huddled down by the newsstands next to him. His face is like leather, worn down and weathered with age, with living. “Apologize for whatever it is that you did, so you don’t end up out here like me.”

“Already there,” Frank tells him, turning the phone over and over in his hand. Madani’s message lights up again each time, flashing and flashing until he sees it like a burn through his retinas even when the phone’s no longer facing him.

“Damn. That’s a damn shame.” The guy shifts, scratching at a spot on his back. “Maybe shouldn’t’ve stayed away from her for so long.”

Frank shakes his head, uttering a short, incredulous laugh. “Well, maybe I got my reasons, yeah? You think about that?”

“Doesn’t matter what I think,” shrugs the guy. “Does she think they’re any good? These reasons of yours?”

Frank turns away, jaw working furiously.

“Yeah.” The guy shouldn’t have any right to sound as smug as he does, and yet. “Yeah, I didn’t think so.”

…

He’s got no place in coming here. He knows it. He knows it, but he thinks it was always meant to be this way, him circling back around to her, even after everything that he’s done to push her away. Maybe a part of him had never left. And the rest is just – there, hovering right at the edge of some sharp realization, that he could try to be whole again if he simply took that first step. And a part of Karen must at least sense that. It’s why she’d never really given up on him, before.

It doesn’t change how I feel about you.

Frank wonders if she’d forgive him this time. If he’d even want her to.

It wouldn’t be anything close to what he deserves, that’s for goddamn sure.

He gazes up at her fire escape, counts the number of steps it would take just to be able to reach that bottom rung from his vantage point across the street. Her shades are drawn, the lines of them blurred out in the dim orange light. On one corner of the windowsill, wedged up against the glass, there’s a small stack of books. On the other, a vase. From this angle, the shadows folded into the fabric of her curtains look almost like flower stems.

Frank squints, and the stems disappear.

…

There’s about a week in between, where he feels himself inching closer to something, each time he drops by her block. He never goes farther than the patch of sidewalk across from her building, but it’s getting harder not to just careen over the ledge.

More than anything, he wishes he knew, in those moments obscured in half-darkness, whether he’s come to look for that after she’d spoke of, or if he’s come to say goodbye.

Then, one day he spots flowers in her window, for the first time since—

(They’re pale white against the cream of her curtains, their stems dark slivers of green, and he imagines them pricking the pad of his thumb, drawing up a spot of blood.)

Frank takes a deep breath.

…

She doesn’t look surprised to see him when she opens the door, swinging it back two-thirds of the way before stopping. Her lips are pressed tightly together, like there’s too much to say, or maybe there’s things that she can’t, either way he can’t read her and he thinks she’s never terrified him more.

Frank drops his gaze, mouth moving soundlessly until the words grind their way out. “How’d you know I was here, Karen?”

He’s not sure what kind of answer he’s expecting. That Nelson had grown a real pair of eyes, or that Red had managed to ferret him out of his lurking somehow. Or maybe Karen really just hadn’t known at all, and those flowers were never for him.

What Karen says instead is, “Dinah and I grab a beer together, sometimes.”

“That right?” he asks, trying to lay out an image of this in his mind. It sits strangely there, stumping him for a moment, and some of his bewilderment must show on his face because Karen’s mouth almost turns up in a smile before flattening again.

She leans away from the doorjamb, waving her hand in a worn-looking gesture before letting it drop to her side. “Besides, you…haven’t exactly been subtle, in your haunting of Hell’s Kitchen.”

He doesn’t know what to say to that, other than a gruff, “’S’what dead men do, Karen,” as she folds her arms and sighs at him.

“You sure you’re not just losing your touch, Frank?” She steps into the doorway, whether to move closer to him or to block him out of her apartment, he can’t tell. “Or was it because you wanted me to know but couldn’t tell me to my face?”

His eyes snap up to hers, twitching slightly under the sharp weight of her gaze. He shakes his head, wishing he could just ask her, What do you want from me, Karen? but they’re long past that now, and if he can’t find his own way to answer her, then.

God, he really doesn’t deserve this woman.

“I think I—” He shifts his body and tries again. “I think I needed to figure some things out. Karen. I was waiting 'til I felt like I was ready, and I don’t think I’ll ever be that.” But I’m here, he wants to say, but I’m here.

“Yeah.” Karen’s nodding, hair falling into her face, and she brushes it back, resting her chin in her palm for a moment. “I know that, Frank.” All of the fight in her seems to have ebbed slowly back, and he resists the urge to reach out and shake the storm back into motion, to make her understand she doesn’t get to let him off the hook so easy.

The look she gives him now is softer, but he knows. Fight’s not done. May never be done. And he knows this because he knows he’ll never stop fighting for her.

She’s stepped back into the door, letting it swing open further. She doesn’t invite him in, but she’s quirked an eyebrow up at him, biting her lip with another deep sigh and a shake of her head.

“You, uh.” Frank glances back and forth at their surroundings, doesn’t quite meet her eye. Tries to lighten his tone through the gruffness as he asks her, “So, you wanted to see me?”

Her voice is soft, forbearing, with a hint of gentle knowing behind it. “You didn’t?”

She’s holding back the clear start of a smile from him this time, and Frank. Christ. It’s taking everything in him not to step toward her, to—

Karen tilts her chin at him, the motion loosening another wave of blonde hair, and he can’t remember anymore why he was trying so hard to stand back from all this. He’s moving, swaying forward until she’s just an arm’s length away, and there’s something almost teasing about the way she relaxes her shoulder into the door as she watches him.

“You back to kill some people, Frank?”

He feels a corner of his mouth turn up. This girl. He licks his lips, lets out a quiet sort of laugh. “That was the plan, yeah.”

Karen gazes up at him, unblinking. “Have you?”

“I was—” Frank has to look away for a moment, finally turning back when he can. His eyes are steady, boring into hers, voice low and full with meaning. “I was. Working on it.”

Karen nods. Doesn’t speak for long seconds, and he measures them out in heartbeats, chest tightening hard enough it feels like it might break when she asks him, very carefully, “Still?”

Frank steps closer, close enough to feel the way her breath shakes with a small sigh, how her body moves away from the door to meet him.

His hand is inches from hers, but he doesn’t reach for her. Not yet.

She waits, gaze searching. He gives the barest shake of his head, and a single word, gravel-filled, a promise. “No.”

Something cracks open in her expression, and it means everything to him, her head ducking away as though she can’t have him looking too closely at the way she's biting back that smile of hers, and he thinks – he thinks he wants to make her do it again, and again, for as long as she will have him.

“Would you like to come in, Frank?”

He takes her hand in his this time, feeling the pull of her as he steps across the threshold, door shutting firmly behind them, and it feels like coming home.

[psychomxncy]

How Jasper came to be a Ghost.

When the man was alive he worked as a tax collecter for a small firm run by the mafia of their city. Everyone knew but no one said anything because they ran a decently legit buisness.

Jasper had been working his ass off taking any and all extra hours he could. Working extra gigs with he and his band mates even. Just anything he could do to earn some extra money. Why? Jasper was proposing to his girlfriend of five years. He proposed to her the morning before he left for what would be his final day of work.

He got to work and did his duty as usual. By the end of his shift hed been told he was getting a promotion. Jasper was so excited to know he was going to be making more, that meant he could support his new wife even better. He and his last client were walking out the door of his second story office when gunfire exploded into the night.

Bullets flew and five shots took the aspiring musician and newly promoted and engaged young man down. His body tumbling down the stairs. It hit the ground with a wet thud.

When the gunsmoke and fog cleared out a bit a score of cursing filled the air. Theyd killed the wrong man. Checking notes they realized their target had been on the third floor of that building. Not the seconed. This man was an innocent bystander, now just a bleeding stain of red and purple on the pavement. The men took off as quick as they could and jasper stood there, over his own dead body.

He was in shock. How could he be dead and yet not? What was happening. Someone screamed, the client he had been with. A young woman. Now a crowd was gathering, someone was trying to stop the bleeding and revive him but to no avail. Cops showed up, sirens blaring and lights flashing. Then forensic crews, coroners with the ambulance. And before he knew it he was sitting atop his own corpse as they drove.

They held a funeral for him. The whole damn company showed up, his fiance, band mates and some fans. The place was packed with life for the one dead young man. He watched them come and go. Then his corpse was cremated, his ashes mixed in with plant food and his body was burried in the yard of the home he and his lover had once shared. She planted an avacado tree. Jasper had loved avacados when he was alive and had always talked about wanting to grow his own tree.

She sat there every night and told the tree about her day. She mourned her lost love. It broke Jaspers heart to watch her suffer. So he decided to help her move on. He showed up in the middle of the night, roused his lover from her sleep and told her all about how he loved her and wanted her to be happy and love again. They cried together. But agreed it was for the best.

Five years later she met another man, five more after that he asked her to marry him with the very ring jasper had bought for her. He said he wanted to keep jasper alive, to immortilize the love hed had and pay him respect, but that now the ring would symbolize both of their love for the woman.

Jaspers heart broke agAin and he weeped. He couldnt have asked for his love to marry a better man.

They married and over the next ten years had three beautiful children. Jasper staying around to watch them, make sure they were safe, becoming each childs imaginary friend. The spikey haired buisness man. He watched them grow into adults. Watched his love grow old and retire happily with the man shed married. The kids brought home kids of their own and he was those childrens friend too.

Jasper decided to see what had become of the place he had once worked and where he had lost his life. The ground was stained with his blood, plants cropped up in the odd cracks. Ghosts of all sorts lingered and wailed, floating aimlessly. And a pair of young adults around his age wandered around. The woman was average height, dark skinned from time in the sun. Her eyes were green and full of life. She had dark raven hair, and a bright skeleton print hoodie on with just as bright skeleton print pants. A purple and old pendant hung around her neck. The man was..damn. He was huge. Seven feet at least, pale as the moon and had a very gothic style about him. He wore dark clothes, some band decorated his shirt. One Jasper had never heard of. The two giggled like children as they wandered around holding hands. The woman called out.

“Oh violet! Where have you gone little bat!”

And out came a reply, a girl no older than three cane scream laughing out from his old desk, something clutcjed in her tiny pale fist.

“Mommy! Mommy! Pretty hand! Look!!!look!!!” She held her prize aloft and jasper couldnt believe his eyes. It was the pin hed lost the day before hed passed. It was a purple claw like hand.

The man scooped the girl up and the woman looked at the pin.

“Wow, it looks old and yet brand new. It must have been wedged somewhere safe this whole time. Oh look! It has an inscription. To my dearest love, Jasper.”

“Whose jasper mommy?”

“Dunno.”

“Maybe he knows?” The girl pointed right at him, his eyes widened. The parents of the girl turned and stared at him.

The man smiled kindly. His voice was soft. “You seem surprised, are you Jasper? Or are you surprised we can see you?”

Jaspers mouth dropped and he sputtered like a dead fish for a good few moments.

“B-both! How can, how did, woah.” Japser sat down while the couple explained who they were and why they could see and speak to the dead. The girl just giggled and ran around chanting his name and declaring him her big brother.

They were spiritually intuned to the preternatural world. Wiccans, goths, and descendants of powerful magicians, witches and wizards. What a family. Jasper eyed the small girl who was bouncing at his feet and making grabby hands. He stooped down amd she touched him. But..how? He cried and leaned into her soft and warm little hands.

He agreed to be her big brother, and as her big brother he gave her the pin he wore on his lapel. She never took the damn thing off. She always made sure to put it on her clothes and keep it clasped tight. He watched her grow and was glad to be able to be seen by more than just the girl. He talked endlessly with the parents about the state of the world and the advancements in tech.

Three years had gone by and it was the girls sixth birthday. Her mother gifted her the necklace she always wore. And sent the girl to bed. Jasper floated above her bed and watched her sleep peacefully. But that peace didnt last.

Smoke came creeping under her door. He rushed into the rest of the house and saw it ablzae. A horrid creature standing among the flames, laughing. He had to save them. To save the child. The beast grew closer to her room and Jasper panicked.

He zipped into her room, tossed books from her shelves and woke her. She grabbed the pin and mecklace and climbed out her window, dashing to the front of the house with jasper. And well, you know the rest.

She wanders off to his workplace, meets another friendly spirit named puff. They try to raise her but cant since they are dead. She goes to the hospital, then the orphanadge, then gets adopted and flown to japan to live with the Spectras. Another goth and ghost loving clan of preternaturally inclined magicial folks. From there he, spook, puff and the rest of the spectras helped and watched their new member grow into a beautiful and kind young woman with a damaged heart and shy nature.

[thetourguidebarbie]

For @itsnotacrimetoloveyou’s birthday/her starting med school/bribery reasons, etc! Hope you enjoy! Warnings: Smut, possessive!Klaus, mentions of bdsm but no actual bdsm, anal sex, soulmate-adjascent.

Klaus groaned softly as the girl’s blood hit his tongue, his hands easily holding her hips in place on his lap as she struggled for friction against him. Her heartbeat was slowing, her breathing ragged, and he pulled back once she began to go limp, just shy of passing out. She was rather pretty, her eyes dark brown and heavy-lidded, cheeks flushed with arousal and fear. He knew he should probably feel temptation, but whenever he thought of physical satisfaction all he could see was Caroline’s bright blue eyes and teasing grin.

She’d flitted in and out of his life for the last half-century, but never seemed to leave his fantasies. Generally she hung around a few months, less often for more than a year, but their accidental run-ins had been getting less accidental on both their parts for the better part of a decade.

She was close to staying now. He could feel it.

Currently Josh was tailing Caroline and her magically-immortal-witch friend on their third trip through the Andes (he’d been subjected to several group selfies that his hybrid and the Bennett girl were unceremoniously cropped out of before they were saved on his phone), and though he itched to meet her when she was done, his instincts were telling him to wait for some reason, and trusting his gut hardly ever failed him.

Trying to put her out of his mind for now—if only so that he could get some work done—he called for a hybrid to come give his afternoon snack some water and blood and watch her until it left her system to ensure she didn’t turn. He had business to attend to and Josephine got rather testy if he was late. It was best to stay on the powerful witch’s good side if he needed more favors.

The hybrid who came to collect the girl seemed troubled, and he spoke as soon as he entered.

“We picked up a vampire loitering at the edge of the property. She’s in the dungeon.”

Klaus hummed disinterestedly. It was a common occurrence, vampires turning up to either kill him or wriggle their way into his good graces. Neither succeeded of course, but it was occasionally amusing to watch them try. “And?”

“Judging by how weak she was when we brought her in she was probably only turned a few decades ago. She said you’d know her. That you’d want to see her.”

That made Klaus pause, frowning. Very few vampires he knew of fit that description. Though the youngest doppelganger was most likely stupid enough to think he’d be interested in anything she had to say (or anything about her at all), he had no doubt that both Salvatore brothers were invested on ensuring that they remained on separate continents.

His curiosity was piqued, and he pushed his still-swaying snack into the hybrid’s arms. “What did she look like? Do you have her name?”

“Blonde. Tall-ish? She said her name was Carrie. Carly, mayb—“

“Caroline,” Klaus interrupted, already pushing past the hybrid. “Call Josephine and tell her the meeting is cancelled.”

It didn’t take him long to reach the cell, and he winced when he saw Caroline glaring at him from her chains, which bound her wrists together and above her, her toes brushing the floor as she swayed.

“Did you seriously give them orders to cuff me on sight? You should tell your minions it’s rude to tie guests up.”

“I’ll have words with them,” Klaus said, taking a few steps towards her, his eyes dragging up and down her body, looking for injuries. “Though I must point out that you didn’t object to it last time.”

“Yeah, well, last time I wasn’t being dragged from the front gate to a dungeon by random minions. I was on a bed.”

He grinned, stopping to stand so that they were chest to chest, his hands reaching to cup her ass, squeezing lightly and grinning when her breath caught. “And you were a bit distracted by other things as I recall.”

She huffed, her cheeks pinking as she squirmed against his hand almost instinctively, perhaps not realizing she was doing it. “I mean, I’m okay with you doing the tying. Speaking of, how about you untie me. Well, uncuff me.”

“Mmm, I think I like you where you are,” he said, nosing her jaw and grinning when he heard her soft whimper as his blunt teeth dragged down her jaw before he nipped her ear. “Though if you insist I’m happy to oblige, of course.”

She swallowed, shifting slightly so that he caught the scent of the wetness gathering between her thighs, and just as he took his hands away and reached to pull the manacles out of the wall she spoke, the words breathless. “What did you have in mind?”

He smirked, his hands stilling against the chains as he held her gaze. “I've had a great deal of time to come up with an extensive list of all the things I want to do to you, Caroline. However shall I decide?”

“Klaus,” she whined, shifting as he popped the button off of her jeans and slipping his hand beneath the fabric, pressing his finger against her clit through the thin cotton covering her center.

“Best test them all, I think,” he murmured, watching her face for any sign of discomfort, needing to be sure that she wanted what he was offering. She was wet already, and he groaned as he slid his fingers under the fabric and against her folds. “Fuck, sweetheart.”

“I want,” she breathed, trailing off as she rolled her hips against his hand, and he immediately pulled his hand away, hungry for her to admit how much she craved his touch.

“What do you want, Caroline? Tell me.”

He’d spent countless hours exploring her body, mapping her skin to find the places that made her take shallow gasps of air and fall bonelessly into his arms. They’d experimented after the first few times, Caroline bright red as she asked him to talk to her, to tell her everything he fantasized about. Being tied up and teased to the edge was one of her favorites, watching him stroke himself a close second, and he never shied away from giving her what she wanted. He loved having her entirely at his mercy, the absolute trust she gave him heady and precious. He made her beg for his hands, for his mouth or cock, and the way the words passed her lips was immensely satisfying. Even when he was rough, when he broke skin with his fangs or nails or she let him tie her on her knees and fuck her hard and fast from behind, she wanted it, asked for it. There was nothing more satisfying for his wolf than seeing her in sheets covered in his scent, head bowed between her elbows with her wrists tied and her legs spread, all for him to take.

“I want you,” she said, staring at him with big blue eyes.

“And how do you want me, love?”

“I thought you wanted to be in charge.”

“I’m open to suggestions.”

“I want you to claim me,” she whispered, her breath shallow, and he stilled.

They’d only talked about it once, the process of a werewolf claiming its mate. It was permanent and intimate, a mark of him invisibly inked by magic that she’d carry for the rest of her eternal life. It meant she was his.

He wanted to so badly, just the words coming out of her mouth making his cock throb as he imagined how her back would feel against his chest as he filled her, the break of her skin against his teeth as he marked her as his. He wanted his scent to cling to her skin, for his name to be the only one to fall from her lips.

“Caroline,” he said slowly, his voice rough. “That’s not a....a claiming isn’t something to take lightly.”

“I’ve been thinking about it for a decade, Klaus. I think I know that I want it.”

“You’re sure?” he asked, trying to resist the urge to yank the chain from the wall, his breathing shallow, his cock aching at the image of her on her knees with her cheek against the stone, her clothes shredded, hands behind her back to part the cheeks of her arse for him.

She nodded, moving her head slightly so that she could catch his lips in a drugging kiss, her tongue lightly stroking his lower lip as she sighed in contentment before pulling back to rest her forehead against his. “I love you.”

He felt like his throat was clogged, his breath stalled in his lungs. He hadn’t expected that, for her to admit her feelings for him so easily, and it was slightly overwhelming to hear it when he wasn’t sure how to respond. ‘Love’ had never seemed like quite the right word for how he felt about Caroline, after all. It had always been passion and obsession, protectiveness and need. It was something so much more than such a small word could describe. She was everything and she was his.

It was close enough for now, though, especially when he saw the way her eyes lit up when he repeated it back to her, the brightness of her smile almost blinding.

“But Caroline,” he continued, needing to press, to be absolutely certain. “You do know that if you do this...if you agr—“

“I just told you I’m yours,” she interrupted, slightly breathless, eyes dark. “Klaus, there is literally not a single other person in the world who I’d trust enough for this. I wanted some time to really think it through and decide, and I did. I want to be with you. I want to be yours the way that you’ve always been mine.”

“Caroline—“

“Please,” she breathed, and he swore, his forehead falling against hers.

She squirmed against his fingers as he stroked her hip before moving to cup her ass, her back arching as his other hand gently tugged at her nipple, and he pulled back, watching hungrily as her eyes grew hazy, her lips parting with a soft moan.

“Bed, then,” he murmured, reaching for the manacles and yanking them from the stone with a cunch before snapping the steel that held them closed. “I want to see your nails rip our sheets.”

She seemed pleased at his use of ‘our’, shaking out her hands when the manacles fell with a crash to the floor. “I’m okay with that.”

“Perhaps you’ll let me shackle you again later, to rub your clit until you’re lingering on the edge while I trace the mark I’ve left on your skin with my tongue.”

“Perhaps,” she drawled, making him grin. She’d picked up some of his habits and word choices over their intermittent meetings (and admittedly he a few of hers, most notably the eye-rolling, though he thankfully had never started inserting unnecessary ‘likes’ between clauses), but her penchant for making fun of his ‘old person britishness’ nonetheless remained, including his choice of ‘boring’ teas and use of words like ‘perhaps’ and ‘perchance’.

He looked forward to seeing what else they’d share, what other little habits she’d show him.

He pulled her close to speed his private wing of the compound, not bothering to be subtle when he buried his nose in her hair, savoring the feel of her pressed against him.

She pulled back, pressing her lips against his, swiping the roof of his mouth with the heat of her tongue, hands curled around his biceps. He let her take what she wanted for now, to taste him and explore his skin with her hands the way she had a hundred times before.

When she finally pulled back with dark eyes and puffy lips he was achingly hard. Her breathing was slightly laboured, the scent of her want rolling off of her only tempting him to feel her wet and tight around his cock.

Perhaps later, when they were tangled in their sheets and she was pliant and sated in his arms, he’d slot himself between her thighs and watch her quiver underneath him, flushed and hazy-eyed. For now he just craved her on her knees, his wolf itching to claim now that his mate had freely offered.

“Do you have lube?” she asked, kicking off her jeans and beginning to pull off her blouse. She stilled at the low rumble in his throat as her creamy skin was revealed and grinned, her movements slowing down as the fabric creeped up her body. “I brought some in my purse just in case, but—“

“You planned this,” he interrupted, his lips twitching, and she nodded easily, unclipping her bra and shrugging it off. “Tell me sweetheart, do you think about it often?”

“All the time,” she admitted, sliding her thong down her legs and kicking it away. “Where do you want me?”

He swallowed, taking in the sight of her standing nude in front of him without a hint of self-consciousness.

“Bed,” he ordered, his voice hoarse. It took effort for him to tear his eyes away from her getting comfortable against his pillows, to ignore the breathy sigh when he turned away to pull the toys they used when she was in town from the top shelf of the closet and looking through it for the bottle. “Don’t touch yourself. I can hear you.”

He grinned at her huff of annoyance, turning to walk back and taking the opportunity to admire the view. She was spread for him, her thighs shining from the way the light hit the slickness of her arousal, her cheek pressed to the pillow so that she could look at him, the practiced innocent expression on her face undermined by the barest hint of a smirk on her lips. “I thought you liked watching me touch myself.”

“Not today. Be patient, love. Good girls get rewards, after all.”

She bit her lip at the tone of his voice, her eyes darkening when he stripped off his shirt and began to undo his belt. She’d never been shy about her enjoyment of his more possessive instincts when they were alone, had freely admitted to preferring a rougher touch and liking the way he took control. He saw her eyes follow his fingers as he unbuttoned his jeans, how her tongue darted over her lips when she saw him hard for her.

“Keep your wrists where they are, sweetheart,” he warned, brushing her spine with his fingertips when she murmured her agreement and climbing on the bed behind her.

The way her breath caught when he spread the slick liquid over her back entrance made him grin, and he was unable to resist stroking the skin of her arse as a light tease, her low whimper of complaint making his cock twitch. He stroked himself with one hand as he got her ready with the other, whispering praise about how well she was doing and how beautiful she looked that he’d learned would make her melt.

She was panting as he stretched her with his fingers, rolling her hips in an effort to find a rhythm with his fingers. He pulled back when she was finally ready, slickening his hard cock with lube and positioning himself at her entrance.

“Good, sweetheart?”

“Yeah,” she breathed. “Go ahead.”

He could see her eyes go hazy when he pressed inside of her, his hands squeezing her hips. “I love the way you look on your knees like this. Bent over in my bed, offering yourself to me for the taking.”

She moaned his name when he began to move, her breathing growing harsher when his thrusts sped up. He watched her face when he reached around to rub her clit in tight circles, committed the sight of her parted lips and flushed cheeks to memory. It had been years since he’d done this, his wolf side unlocking having made him reluctant to risk an accidental bond. Waiting for Caroline to choose him for good had been torture, the rush of pure, primal need in his veins whenever he laid eyes on her difficult to control. He wanted nothing more than to let his wolf’s magic unfurl from his skin and cloak her, to scrape his teeth against her neck as he came and leave the scar visible as a warning to any who might mean her harm.

“That feels so good,” she gasped out, arching her back to give him a better angle. “Talk to me.”

He grinned, bending forward. “Talk to you?”

“Mmhm.”

“What about, sweetheart?”

She huffed, the sound making him grin. “Have you thought about me when I was gone?”

“Of course,” he said, his voice almost embarrassingly hoarse with need, his breath hitching when she clenched around him. “Every day.”

“Tell me.”

“About how much I craved you tangled with me at night? The rhythm of your breathing? Your scent clinging to my sheets?” he asked, purposefully avoiding what she’d requested between the lines of her question, wanting her to ask.

“Did you think about me when you touched yourself!” she clarified, shooting him an exasperated look that changed to a gasp when he pinched her clit.

“Every day,” he repeated, moving faster, savoring her moans, his nails digging into her hips. “I have so many fantasies of the things I want to do to you, sweetheart. Things I want to try. I do love the way you look bound to my bed with a toy in your pussy, compelled not to come but trying to find friction, begging for me to indulge you. It’s a common fantasy I go back to, the memory of your pretty lips parted and your eyelids fluttering.”

She moaned his name, her fingers curling in the sheets, her breathing growing more labored. “More,” she demanded. “Please.”

“But sometimes that’s not quite enough,” he continued, his hands moving to her hips to steady her, “and when I need the extra push I think of the last time you were here, how you begged for your master to give you release. You were so eager to please, so perfect. I’ve thought extensively about what else I might convince you to beg for, what pretty sounds you’ll make as I stain your arse red with my palm or fasten clamps around your nipples. How you’ll get wet from nothing but the sting of painful pleasure and the knowledge that I’m getting off on it. Would you like that?”

She nodded hurriedly. “I liked it when we did it last time,” she breathed, her words tangling as she tried to get them out. “It was really hot.”

“Good girl,” he murmured, grinning at the way her breath hitched at the words. “Now tell me, sweetheart. Is my cock filling you enough to make you come?”

“No,” she gasped out, admitting what they both already knew from years of exploring each other’s bodies. “I need you to touch my clit.”

“Ask. Beg.”

She obeyed immediately, the pleas falling quickly from her lips. He could feel his muscles tightening as he obliged her, the pleasure of her tight and hot around his cock as he took her in, bent and submissive and begging for more, for him to fuck her harder, bringing him closer to the edge. He could feel his fangs break through his gums, the overwhelming desire to taste, to claim,

He bent forward to bite her shoulder when he came, running his tongue along the mark and grinning at her sharp breath from the sensation. He toyed with her clit until he felt her shake against him as she tipped over the edge.

He rolled off of her and pulled her close, offering her his neck for the cure. He had only a brief moment to admire the face of her monster before she let her fangs pierce his neck, drinking a few gulps with a soft hum before pulling back, running her tongue along the wound when it closed.

“How do you feel, sweetheart?”

“Good,” she said, arching her back to stretch before curling closer to him, tangling her legs with his, her face buried in his shoulder. “I’m tired.”

“You must have flown quite a ways.”

“Yeah. It was a huge pain because I had to convince your minion to let it be a surprise and then deal with flying a gazillion hours being worried that you’d say no and I’d just embarrass myself—“

“I would never,” he said immediately, tracing her spine with his fingers. “I’ve waited for you to be ready for ages. You can’t imagine I’d ever turn you away.”

“It’s nice to know for sure,” she said, wriggling even closer so that her body was fully pressed against his, cloaking herself in his warmth and scent. “I love you.”

There were those words again, so human and small, but he couldn’t deny that hearing them fall from her lips made his heart lighten.

“And I you.”

“Well you’d better. You’re stuck with me now,” she pointed out, squeaking when he pinched her side. “Klaus!”

“I’ve long known that I would never be able to let you go, Caroline. My mate.”

“Good,” she said, humming contentedly as his arms wrapped around her. “Me neither.”

[holyytaehyung]

NCT dream react to a duet with idol! s/o.

requested~

Mark When you were both announced to be performing together for a duet stage, Mark didnt expect so much love from the community sigh, in a perfect world idols can date. He was honestly quite surprised, but also very very happy that he finally got to share the stage with the one he loves. It was going to be a part of an award show, and you were set to perform a dance /rap duo, and from the practices; you could already tell it would get a reaction. The choreographer took it into mind that you both were in a relationship, thus why , about 30 seconds of the song, was when mark wasnt holding you close. But who were you to complain? the rest of the dance was awesome, and full of power. You, who had debuted in a girl group, didnt usually get to show this kind of visual, the debut song for your group something alot more light hearted, the dances simple and effective. SM was a smart company, and they praised you and Mark for telling them straight away when you got into a relationship, and they chose to support you both. It was like a dream come true. You both stood on the darkened stage, and the announcers voice begins; “and now, we have a duo of perfect harmony on and off stage, from SM entertainment; NCT’s Mark Lee and y/g/n’s y/n! performing a duet of dance and rap, now, lets enjoy this young love!” The crowd went nuts, not even an exaggeration, they LOVED you two, and Mark was so proud that you were there with him. As you danced with him on the stage, he couldnt help but to get lost, as he did usually, both of you dancing for yourselves and not the millions of fans. As the lights went back to dark, leaving you both breathlessly running off the stage, the audiences applause was loud enough to be heard from backstage, it continued for minutes, making you both smile. “good job baby, we need to do this more often.” “i agree” overall hed probably end up more whipped for you because you’re amazing.

Renjun Your New group’s debut was met with many criticisms, but with double the amount of praise. You were a member of your group that could speak chinese, thanks to your family moving over to China when you were young, you learnt the language and attended a school there, as well as a dance club, conveniently where you met Renjun. When SM said that they were sending a Duo to china to promote , you didnt expect for them to literally choose you and your boyfriend. Renjun was over the moon, he knew that he wanted to perform with you more than anything, and this way he could also prove that you were his. You were set to head over together, both of you taking a plane, and then heading to the venue. Renjun was beside you the entire time. At first, you were a little rusty switching back into fluent Chinese, but Renjun was there to help, and soon it felt as though you were back at school again. You both worked in perfect harmony, capturing the hearts of the audience as you talked before dancing, talking about how you met and how you were both very scared to travel to Korea for this opportunity, but doing it together helped you get through the tough times. “y/n, well, im young so you may not believe me when i say this, but y/n is my everything” Renjun smiled, squeezing your hand. “so, wed like to perform for you, thankyou for coming!” You both began your dance and singing duet, it was a mashup of two of the songs that were from yours and Renjuns group; Nct dream. Whilst on the stage, he looked at you and only you, focused on your beauty and talent, it gave him strength and determination to do the same. When you both finished, you finally broke eye contact, and a roar of applause was heard, making you both smile sheepishly. “thankyou! and thankyou my beautiful girlfriend, and my beautiful fans, for accepting us!”

Jeno Jeno loved being by your side, and having you on stage with him? as his girlfriend? and duet partner? He never thought that it could happen, and run so smoothly. When he was questioned by SM about your relationship, he told them that he cared about you, and the fans, and would do his best to maintain his image. SM appeared to be approving of his maturity and rather than shut it down, they promoted the idea that their idols are mature enough to think for themselves. He helped you up the stairs to the stage, and photographers couldnt get enough of you two; the face of young love in the media currently.

As you both began to perform, he felt relaxed, and he felt as though he could go with the flow, because he knew you could do it.  His trust in you was equivalent to an astronaut in their rocket; Hed risk his life for you. You both danced together, ending in a pose where you were holding hands. Everyone agreed that you two were very cute together, and Jeno seemed to have the urge to dance with you more and more, wanting to post dance cover videos with you> “jagi i have so many ideas!!” “ooo LETS DO ALL OF THESE!” “this one too!!”

Haechan Haechan was confused to say the least when he was dragged into the office, they had already settled down the whole dating scandal, and you both had come clean about dating, and you were met with so much support. He almost felt like laughing when they asked him to do a duo stage with you, assuming that he was getting in trouble. But he dismissed the urge and agreed straight away. As you were both Idols, you never got to sit with eachother at award cerimonies, unless fate was really on your side. But since you two were performing a duet, you were allowed to sit next to eachother for the whole night. When you both entered to walk to your seats, everyone gushed about how kind Haechan was, as he passed you a pillow, and sat holding your hand. You smiled and turned to a fan who sat behind you both, after they said how amazing Haechan was. “I know right! hes so amazing, really” The fan smiled at you and turned to their friend. “wow she is nice too! i ship it!” this made you smile, and Haechan was about to question you when they began to usher you both backstage for your performance. It was more focused on singing, this time, both of you stood on stage with standing microphones, you played guitar and both of you began to sing a soft and sweet acoustic love song, making many begin to smile at you both. Throughout the entire piece Haechan stared at you with loveheart eyes, he never thought that you could get any more beautiful, but he stood corrected. He watched as a little strand of hair moved into your face, and like second nature he fixed it, causing the whole crowd to scream. He smiled at you, and you smiled black, a soft pink on your cheeks. “i loved this and i loved you” hed say afterword, pulling you in for a hug.

Jaemin As publicly announcing a relationship would go, You and Jaemin were on the lucky side. You were both friends before you got into a relationship, and his fans were already used to you being around, the majority already shipped you both as a couple as well. You both were about to perform a duo, then after, you were to announce that you guys were in a relationship. You were nervous to say the least, and so was Jaemin. Neither of you had experienced something like this before, but, you were ready. Throughout the entire dance and song Jaemin kept his eyes on you, and fans noticed, whenever you both got close, theyd scream and cheer”kiss” for you two, which caused you to both blush as you finished the dance. You seemed to be in a daze when Jaemins voice broke you out of it. “so, everyone, did you like our performance?” the crowd screamed “yes!” “it was kind of romantic , dont you think y/n?” he winked, making you blush and chuckle, the crowd screaming. “hmm i think so?” you smiled. “on that note, we do have something to tell you all.” Jaemin said, going serious. Both of you took your ear pieces out, as he grabbed your hand. “Y/n and I are together, and we’re very happy” He smiled. If you thought the fans went nuts before, you were wrong, so many people were smiling and chanting your names, and you couldnt help but smile up at jaemin, who brought you into a hug.

Chenle Chenle would be a nervous mess before the performance, you were both publicly in a relationship, and this was the first promotion you were doing together. It was a dance duo for a TV show, and you both had no idea what kind of reaction youd get when it is announced that youre performing. “and now, we have a new young couple, performing a dance duo; NCT Dream’s Chenle, and y/g/n’s y/n!” The TV audience was screaming, and you both had looks of surprise on when you walked on the stage, causing the host to laugh. “why the surprised looks?” “its just- wow, what a reaction!” Chenle smiled. “yeah! we were very nervous to perform together..” you added. “well, we all love you two together, right everyone?” “yes!” the crowd screamed, making you both look to eachother and smile brightly. As the lights dimmed and the music started, you both couldn't contain your happiness, and danced with full energy, doing one of the best performances you had both ever done. You danced your hearts out, and sung the soft lovey lyrics as if you were speaking to eachother. The crowd loved it, and chanted your names. “thankyou all so much, its so nice being able to be in my favourite place with my favorite person, thankyou!” chenle smiled lovingly at you, and waved to the crowd, helping you down the stairs to the seats for your interview together.

Jisung Instead of being asked to do a full stage together, SM suggested that youd both do a V-live together, dancing and learning choreography. You and Jisung both agreed, both being the main dancers of your groups, and not to mention the Maknae’s, when fans got news that you were both dating, they called you the “power dance couple” and it made you both happy. For the livestream, you both waited until you got a good ammount of viewers, before Jisung tugged on your arm, and hugged you, causing you to slap his arm slightly. He just chuckled and turned to the camera. “hello everyone , I am NCT dream’s Maknae, Jisung, and this is my girlfriend Y/g/n’s Makne, y/n.” he introduced which made you laugh at his awkwardness. He shot a side glare at you and you just teased him, all the comments were surprisingly happy for you both, saying that they can see the chemistry. When you both started dancing, Jisung wondered why he ever though about practicing alone, when he had you. Dancing was so much more thrilling with you there, both of you mucking about, and having a fun time, creating a fun time for the viewers too- and fuel for futire videos that would be made to showcase you two together. He figured, he loved dancing with you, and one day, you would both take the big stage by storm together. END -admin rose

[isitoctober212015yet]

So, no spoiler review of IT chapter 2: I liked it, it was well put together and i feel like it built on and expanded the first movie very well

some of my other thoughts chock full of spoilers are below the cut

– the opening scene with adrien mellon is easily the most brutal one i dig my nails into my skin when i get nervous and i was bleeding pretty bad by the end of those first 10 mins. its probably the worst and most visceral scare of the whole movie, everything after that’s manageable. I’m a little annoyed they included that one like...of all the parts of the book to stay faithful to thats the one you pick??? I was so annoyed when they announced they were makin that

– where was the scene from the trailer when pennydumbass jumped out of that hole that was in the wall like 10 feet up? Did I miss that or something i feel like it was absent

– I really loved the adult losers they were all so good. I really had no trouble beliving they were the grown versions of the kids from chapter 1

– however i feel they could have sassed back at pennywise more

– I appreciated that this one was darker more often than not but that there were still a couple moments of levity. Watching everyone run around screaming while Mike is smashing the table in the chinese restaurant after the scene with the blood (or perhaps that was just miscellaneous sewer ooze?) and screaming infant bugs was really funny to me. I’m also glad this movie didnt go the miniseries route and just put some live ass cockroaches on the table i hated that. The whole scene was very loud though. I feel like I’m too old but every scary scene i’m always just thinking “oh boy here comes some more noise...good :/”

– Mike was easily my favorite character this time around im glad he got more screentime because gotdamn was he robbed last time

– I love!! new kids content!!! I loved those kids so much so i was really glad that they came back

– goddamn the transitions between some of these scenes was fucking stunning i like said very loudly without realizing “Oh wow that transition” somebody nearby laughed at me

–  I for no reason really want to draw a pomeranian with pennywise markings now

– How did nobody else ever figure out you can just beat It by pointing and laughing and calling it a sloppy bitch. it really took the people of derry five million years to workshop that one huh?

– I was so worried theyd try and force Bill and Bev together and they did not

– If you thought I was paying attention to anything other than that Michael J Fox poster in the background of the scenes in the fort. You would be INCORRECT I really need to finish that IT/BttF crossover huh?

– so???? one of the last things Richie does before leaving town is go to the lover's bridge and re-make the mark he made as a kid that said E + R (while Stan is saying “be proud of who you are” in a vo) are they saying hes gay??? also some kids call him gay and he doesnt like..adamantly deny it like he does other stuff, he just runs off. so??? kinda got gay vibes. it could just be me reading into it as a gay buuuuuuut idk Also Bill and Mike say “I love you” to each other and theyre like the only ones in either movie that even utter the words i love you that i recall, that and Bill wasn’t wearing a ring at the end???? Honestly was anyone else kinda feeling those 2 the whole movie? i was. is there any ship content for that? i feel like theres untapped potential there. gonna be bummed if theres nothing on AO3 tbh

– I can’t tell if I’m immune to horror or if this movie actually wasnt scary. It feels like Penboy only has one scare tactic and thats shake ur head real quick-like. And i do that when i mess up sentences to get my thoughts back on track u aint special bitch

– while nothing other than adrien mellon’s death really scared me I do think the scare scenes were a lot better this time around. better executed and all that. more thought was put into em

– I noticed a lot of really wonky edits esp in the antique shop scene and it kinda makes me wonder if they didnt get too many takes because stephen king didnt want to be there or what but like...every time they cut from Bill to that wide of stephen at the counter his coffee cup is moved and the book is at a different angle did y’all really only do like 1 fucking take of this shit???? I’d get a gotdamn F if I tried pulling something like that. I would get fuckin fired. And this movie with a billion dollar budget just let that slip on by???? I thought that this was gonna be a scene where oh no something spooky happens and the inconsistancies were supposed to be there to clue u in but no. its just bad editing.

– there was a lot of continuity errors in who was standing where or holding items in the deadlights pit where they did the ritual of chud. ignoring for a second that the losers pulled half their damn tokens out of nowhere when only a couple even had pockets on their person, that lampshade/demon container thing just kinda...appeared. Mike was not carrying that the whole time they were going through Neibolt and down. he also pulls a bag off his shoulder one second when hed never had one previously and then next shot theres no bag. my friend suggested that maybe this was like...to disorient you as the viewer and i think it was just like...somebody who fucked up real bad. It made it hard to track where anyone was in that space. but maybe im going to be the only person who notices that shit since im an editor so i have to always be looking for that, anyways this is why a script sup is so important 

– also as a film student who once (and only once, i aint ever doing that shit again) was producer for a short film I was literally screaming at the scene on the movie set. Like???? thats not how movies work!!!!!!!!!!!!!! theyre filming the ending that night!??!?!?! The ending they are still waiting for Bill to write?!??!?!? How did you build a set??? How did you cast for that??? If ur at into a physical location not in the studio how did u get location permits for that day????? WHO STARTS PRODUCTION OF A MOVIE BEFORE ITS WRITTEN WHAT THE FUCK!?!?!?!?!?

– When Bill punches Richie in that recap of their chapter 1 fight there was a random red filter on the shot for 2 seconds who allowed that?? there was also this godawful blue food dye ass filter over one shot of the losers walking down the street. that shot was clearly filmed midday idk who they thought they were foolin with that. Just wait until night man. Again, i would be killed if i did that shit in a student film. but the brothers warn just let this happen????? WHY

[siodymph]

“The Before and After”

Hey there @pirably ! I’m so sorry this is getting to you so late! I can’t thank you enough for participating in the gift exchange, and I hope you enjoy my take on your prompt!

Feel free to read your story under the cut or over on my ao3!

“I can’t believe you!”

“What?”

Sighing, Stanford took a deep breath. His neck was starting to feel pinched from looking up at so long. “I said I CAN’T BEL-”

“I heard what you said! What’s not to believe?”

“Just… Everything about this! There’s no way this is safe!”

There was a long pause as Stanford waited until he finally heard Fiddleford respond. Voice echoing out from somewhere near the top of his gigantic creation.

“… Probably not!”

“Then why do you insist on working like this? Why put yourself in life-threatening danger!”

“Cause!” Fiddleford called back, huffing. “I work best directly with my hands. And there’s no way I could tip this darned thing over without risking it all breaking! All for some shiftin’ wires!”

“You could build something to help gently set it down then stand it again!” Stanford tried to add.

“Ugh! But that’d take even more time! Not to mention I’d have to build that first!” Fiddleford yelled. “Now hush up! I’m trying to work here Stanford!”

If someone were to see Stanford at that moment, they probably would have said he was pouting. But Ford would take to his grave if he had to. “I just want you to be safe…”

“I’m harnessed to the swing, which I rigged up myself! Checked the pulleys and everything this morning! I’m the safest I’ve ever been!” Fiddleford called out one more time. “And you’re one to talk! Where was all this fussing over safety when you were in Dr. Jenret’s class and you almost poured acid on yourself?”

Stanford could only smile and shake his head in response. As always Fiddleford was able to win him over when he least suspected it. As inevitable as it was, it still caught Stanford off-guard. Growing up there had been no one like that in his life. If he ever got into arguments or debates with kids they’d always either eventually concede or just completely give up. Or they’d just hit him out of annoyance. If it was his brother he’d do a combination of the last two.

At least Stanford used that excuse as to why after knowing the man for years now, he still managed to surprise him when they got into debates.

To this day Fiddleford was probably the only person he knew who could get him to shut up and see things from a new perspective.

So now knowing there was nothing he could say Stanford decided to just sit back and watch the show Fiddleford was putting on. The man may be stubborn as a mule, but he was equally as cunning and brilliant, and he certainly made a performance out of his larger-than-life projects.

There was no denying Fiddleford’s brilliance. He had the most engineering and mechanical skill out of anyone Stanford knew. Even better than himself, which was something he seldom admitted to anyone. But it was the truth. Fiddleford Hadron McGucket was by far the best of the best in the world of robotics. And anyone who said otherwise was wrong.

Just being able to watch Fiddleford work was a treat itself. As his creation came together it quickly collected height. So much so that he soon had to resort to rigged swings and climbing equipment to finish the job. As he worked up off the ground like that Stanford couldn’t help but think of those old photos from the 1940’s of construction workers building the first skyscrapers. So high off the ground, only a pair of overalls and a utility belt for protection, and yet seeming so at ease. There was almost a beauty in how effortless Fiddleford made it seem. A grace he had while swinging from rig to rig, climbing up the structure with his hands and feet.

But when the light hit his face just right and Stanford could see Fiddleford’s hair shine golden, body covered in a thin sheen of sweat from his hard work, Stanford knew in his heart his feelings for the other man hadn’t changed at all.

He found he’d only grown to love Fiddleford Hadron McGucket even more...

Two hours later, Fiddleford came swinging down. Overalls covered in a layer of grim, hair frizzled and frumpy, face red and sweaty, and a satisfying smile that just looked ethereal on Fiddleford’s face.

“How’d it go?” Stanford asked as he ran back over from his own work to meet him. Handing the other man a towel.

“Pretty good I think!” Fiddleford sighed gratefully as he started to wipe off his face. “Got that wiring all straightened out! Now all that’s left is testing her out!”

“That’s wonderful! We should test it now!”

“You know Stanford it’s a good thing I like ya so much.” Fiddleford said with a tired smirk. “Been up there all day, and as soon as I get down you want me to keep on working!”

“You know you want to see your new invention just as much as I do!” Stanford replied. “Don’t even kid yourself Fidds.”

Chuckling to himself, Fiddleford went over to his work bench and grabbed the remote control he’d built for this his invention. He let his finger hover over the main controls before looking towards Stanford.

“Hang onto your butts…”

All at once, the remote buzzed and the colossal machine burst to life. Inbetween metal panels, there was a bright green glow. Panels began to bend and shift. Massive wings unfurled from either side of the robot. For a moment the creature turned its head to look at its master. Green eyes glowing with a light that feuled it from within. Then after Fiddleford pressed another button the remote buzzed again and the creature tilted its head back at gave out a massive prehistoric screech that made Stanford’s entire chest rattle.

“Not too bad for someone who said they were moving onto computer-work only, huh?”

Stanford looked up at the massive mechanic pterodactyl in awe. “Fiddleford… Fiddlford that was nowhere close to ‘not bad’. That was… That was amazing!”

“Aw shucks,” Fiddleford mumbled.

“No, I mean it!” Stanford continued. “This is a piece of history in the making here. This won’t just change the world of animatronics, but the entire world of robots and engineering itself!”

“You really think so?” Fiddleford asked.

“I know so!” Stanford tried to contain some of his excitement, sometimes he could get rather loud when he got carried away. “And Fiddleford? I couldn’t imagine this being made by anyone else but yourself. You really did a… a fantastic job here. There’s no way you won’t take first place in Dawngrove next week!”

“Aw, I don’t care about none of that.” Fiddleford sighed as he turned off his robo-dino. “I’m only doing this for lil’Tate. He’s the one who asked me to do all this after all.”

“And I’m certain Tate will adore this too.”

“I hope so...” Fiddleford said with another sigh. Looking back up at his incredible invention. “Ever since me and the missus split I feel like I haven’t seen him as often. When we are together I gotta make it mean something. For the both of us.”

Gently, Stanford took Fiddlford’s face in his hands, pulling him away so they were looking eye to eye.

“Believe me Fiddleford, next week Dawngrove’s Robotic Royal will be a day no one could ever forget!”

Leaning in closer, Stanford kissed him. And closing his eyes, Fiddleford could feel himself relaxing.

Slipping away. If only for a few moments...

 ~~~

 Sometimes it truly amazed Fiddleford how everything was coming back to him.

At least physically if not completely mentally. He was still working on that.

He counted it as a small success though when Stanford showed him a massive mechanical pterodactyl and he got the inkling of a sensation that he’d seen it before.

Raising one hand up, he touched one of its massive wings. It felt rougher than he’d expected it to. No doubt the metal had eroded some after years of hiding it away in such an abandoned place.

“I know I’ve seen this fella before…” Fiddleford pondered out loud, still lightly rubbing over the metal as if that would help him reveal the answer. He knew he’d made robotic pterodactyls before but this one didn’t seem as familiar. It definitely wasn’t the one he made for revenge after his retirement-party-fiasco. “Did we make this together?”

“Not really, I just watched.” Stanford answered. “You made this one on your own. It was for this competition out in Dawngrove California.”

“Dawngrove…” Fiddleford said slowly.

“Yes, does that town sound familiar at all?”

Fiddleford hummed a little before shaking his head. “It ain’t there right now, but it’ll come back. I can feel it rattle’n around in there.”

Stanford seemed a little disappointed, but decided to move on. “Well you and I brought that in for a robotics competition. A battle royal actually. You ended up getting first place. Your ex-wife and your son even came and we all cheered you on.”

The mention of his son brought a smile to his face. The details over everything were hazy but he always knew who Tate was. “He would have been around eight or nine right?”

“Yes, he was nine!” Stanford said.

Fiddleford chuckled at the thought. “He was such a little squirt back then. Always hiding under that big mop of hair…”

Stanford grumbled as he looked around. He wished he had more photos from that day. In his experience with Stanley photos help jogged Stan’s memory the best. Unfortunately he didn’t have any photos from that day. He was however able to find a few newspaper clippings he’d held onto from that day. Carefully picking it up the fragile paper so it didn’t disintegrate, Stanford brought it over for Fiddleford to see.

“Look here,” Stanford pointed to the main picture under the headline ‘Super Scientist and Father Wins Grand Prize with his Dynamic Dino!’ where there was a black and white photo of the Pterodactyl back in its golden years. “If you look towards the bottom near the pterodactyl’s feet you can see a few figures. That’s me on the right, you on the left, and you’re holding Tate in the middle of us.”

The article itself was so damaged it was illegible. But Fiddleford could just make out their figures Stanford was pointing to in the picture. The picture was so old the image had begun to fade some too, mostly on the left side. His whole body was faded out. But with enough focus he could just make out Stanford and Tate’s faces. Both were beaming at the camera. Grinning with pride. Fiddleford realized they’d been proud of him.

“You two sure seemed happy…” Fiddleford said with a sigh.

“And we still are.” Stanford continued. “You have no idea how happy I am to be here with you. To have a second chance at making things right with you. With everyone.”

Fiddleford nodded but didn’t look up from the picture. As if trying to memorize their faces in case this memory never came back to him. When he didn’t focus as hard he could almost recall some things. Mostly phantom feelings. Like holding a giggling Tate close to his chest. Or swinging up on a rig, shouting to Stanford down below. Walking hand in hand with both of them…

“I’m happy I get a second chance too.” Fiddleford replied softly.

Eventually they’d seen everything they could and together, hand in hand, they walked back out of that old warehouse back into the world. They’d been in there reminiscing so long they’d missed sunset. It was already night and the moon hung low in the sky, darting out from behind trees as they walked.

Stanford’s six-fingered hand felt so warm in Fiddleford’s own. How he’d spent all those years alone, Fiddleford didn’t know, but now that Stanford was back in his life he knew he couldn’t bear to go back to the way things had once been. The world had changed so much, and they’d both changed so much with it. But Fiddleford could feel it in his heart that what they had between themselves was still as special as it was back then.

And when the light hit his face just right Fiddleford could see Stanford’s hair shine silver, and his eyes practically sparkling under the moon, Fiddleford knew in his heart his feelings for the other man hadn’t changed at all.

He found he’d only grown to love Stanford Filbrick Pines even more.