#managed to fit so many of the prompts into this one heck yeah

[keicordelle]

I7 Prompt Week WIP #4:

Day 4: IDOLiSH7/Dorm Living

Around him, his new housemates chattered away, carrying in boxes and helping each other unpack. Nagichi had more stuff than most manga stores, and the Izumi brothers had brought with them all kinds of kitchen knickknacks and doohickeys Tamaki had never seen before, much less considered using. He dumped the contents of his own box into his closet (a whole closet just for him....) and, after chasing Nagichi and his overflowing boxes out of his room for the fourth time, went to help them unload it all.

It was fun to get to decide where things belonged, even if Iorin kept yelling at him for doing it wrong. It was nice to get to just play around and have fun, and not have to look after the younger kids and be all responsible for once. Here, he could yell back at Iorin when he made no sense, and laugh with Mikki and Rikkun when they stuck googly eyes to Yama-san's robot vacuum, and no one told him he was being too loud or made him feel stupid.

And later, when they sat down to dinner, people actually listened when he talked. They laughed at his jokes (and sometimes when he wasn't joking), and no one made him eat his peppers when he said he didn't like them. Mikki just said he'd remember that when it was his day to cook and that was that. The air buzzed with excitement and happy chatter the whole evening, and the chaos was both new and familiar all at the same time. Comfortable.

[doitwritenow]

Supreme Super family gets sucked up into WandaVision(let's imagine Tony's alive in this or is from the multiverse). Ironstrange think they're married with a high school kid. Tony is a science teacher, strange is town doctor, and peter is a regular kid. No memories of they're real life. Rhody, Pepper, and Aunt May and Morgan could be added to this too if you wanted.

OHHO! Sorry it took me so long to reply to this; I had to finish the show, for one thing, and then my brain started going all sorts of places with the prompt... and well. I have on heck of a ramble coming, so buckle up! 

(Also, spoilers through the series, so watch out!) 

— — —

It starts with a question on Vision’s job application.

That’s all. So simple, so innocuous, so innocent. Vision is casually recording information that he doesn’t yet realize he can’t remember, and he arrives at a line that asks his family history. It’s nothing complex, left on the application only because Wanda’s subconscious had glossed over the question. So does Vision’s, as a result. But he wants this job. They want to fit in, and so they answer the question truthfully.

Vision writes ‘Stark’, unaware. ‘Tony Stark.’

And pop. Just like that. 

On the edge of Westview, there suddenly is and has always been a small, well-kept mechanic’s shop. It’s run by an aging man with a bright mind and a brighter smile. He’s lived here since he came back from the war, but no one knows for how long. And he has no memory—no memory at all—of what came before. 

Of the round scar in the center of his chest. 

He doesn’t need to know. No one needs to know; he’s just a side character, after all. Just the answer to a line on a job application.

Just so that something, anything, about Vision’s life here isn’t a lie. 

-

Yeah, so Tony gets manifested within the Hex—but because he’s one of Wanda’s creations and not someone being mind-controlled, he is able to exist with agency within Westview. He has no reason, however, to believe anything is amiss; he’s been resurrected only to play a character, and his memories and surface-level motivations only extend to the limits of that character.

But Wanda has other regret. Wanda has other anger and understanding and forgiveness and gratefulness, and she knew Tony Stark, once. 

She knew his worst nightmare—and it’s easy to craft a soul from that, really.

(But it’s fine, of course it’s fine. Tony has no reason to pull down the walls of that hidden spirit. He’s content in his role, just like Vision. So it’s fine. 

… Right?) 

-

Agatha stands at the base of a towering barrier with her hands on her hips. One side of her mouth is quirked up into a considering, scheming smile, and her magic probes out around her curiously. This is the source of the power she’d felt; she’s sure of it. The spell work… the instinctual, unconscious spell work is so intense she can almost taste it.

How is it possible? What’s the secret? 

Agatha must know. And besides; this is the most interesting thing that’s happened to her since the seventeenth century. 

She’s about to reach out, about to cross into the heart of the magic, when she hears it. A footstep. Quiet and dark and making no attempt at stealth. 

Agatha grips her magic. “Who’s there?” she demands. 

Someone steps out of the trees. A human, Agatha thinks, though you can never be sure nowadays. He wears a hood of green and his hands are dark where they hang at his sides. 

“Witch,” the figure declares.

Agatha raises an eyebrow. “Can I help you?”

“Yes,” says Karl Mordo. “I rather think you can.”

-

Okay, cut to New York. Stephen Strange is exhausted, wrung dry trying to keep the edges of the universe from deteriorating now that the stabilization factors of the Infinity Stones have been destroyed. One task runs into the next, one morning into the night. One future into all the others. 

But Stephen likes the work; it keeps his mind in one place. He’s always alert these days. Always listening. 

So when someone calls out to him from New Jersey, he can hear.

It’s Mordo luring him in, of course, but he doesn’t know that yet. After Dormammu, and certainly after all those futures, Stephen has too much experience for Mordo to hope to get the better of. The old Master is still dedicated to his ‘too many sorcerers’ shebangerang, though, so he’s employed help. Maybe he can kill two birds with one stone. Two world-threateningly powerful magic users with one stone. 

Stephen follows the call, because of course he does. It sounds like a call for help; what else is he supposed to do? The kelpie situation in the Thames can wait. Wong waves him off, tells him to be careful without much hope of Stephen listening, and takes over the Sanctum for the few hours Stephen intends to be gone.

(It’s not for a few hours.)

-

But there’s someone else we should mention before we see what Westview has planned for Stephen. See, a certain spider-kid has just had his identity outed, and his only allies once called themselves Nick Fury and Maria Hill.

Nick Fury and Maria Hill, Peter discovers, are not Nick Fury and Maria Hill.

“You’re aliens?” Peter demands, his hands warding the space in front of him. 

Of course they’re aliens, part of him sighs. Of course. Why wouldn’t one more thing just go crazy in his life? Why let him remember what ‘normal’ even felt like? Why the hell not? 

“Er, yes,” says not-Fury. “My name is Talos. But we do still want to help you.”

Helping Peter doesn’t go according to plan. See, the Skrull try to approach SWORD for Monica Rambaeu’s help regarding the kid who saved their lives, but Monica has disappeared. 

Talos only turns around for two seconds. Really, it’s only a moment. But when he turns back, Peter Parker has disappeared, too.

-

“Woah.” 

Stephen stops, a hand coming up to shield his third eye as he squints into the absolute maelstrom of power swirling in a hexagonal wall in front of him. It doesn’t feel like the Order’s magic—not like something of the Mystic Arts. It’s something far more human and gritty. Stephen’s perception can’t extend through it. He frowns.

He takes a step forward, the Cloak swirling around his ankles, and begins to stitch his mental walls into place. His wards are strong, even unconsciously.

That’s probably what saves him, in all honesty. 

Two strong, human hands plant themselves in the small of Stephen’s back and shove him into the barrier. Stephen opens his mouth to yell, raises his hands to cast a spell— but blue and red are surrounding him now. Devouring him, now. They lick at his mind, slamming against unbreakable walls.

But they are unbreakable too. 

Stephen disappears. 

-

(Mordo used a portal to get behind him and knock him into the Hex, btw.) 

It’s those hasty mental walls that keep Stephen from being completely consumed into the Westview spells. He is not fully mind-controlled, nor is he left half-animated and frozen like most people near Ellis Avenue. But there is one main rule of Wanda Maximoff’s Westview, and that, Stephen can’t escape completely. 

‘No one remembers outside.’

Stephen doesn’t. In fact, he doesn’t remember anything at all. 

-

Tony Stark finds the man lying on the side of the road. He’s just finished dropping his kid Peter off at the Westview high school (it hasn’t occurred to him that it’s weird how he never sees the boy’s classmates. Or that Peter never seems to have stories from school. Or that the kid is always waiting in the exact same place that Tony dropped him off at whenever Tony comes to pick him up. Tony has no reason to think too hard; he’s just a side character—right?). 

“Uh, hi?” Tony pauses, the car puffing it’s irritation when he stops it too quickly. He cranks down the window and leans out. 

The man blinks, slowly, at the sky. He sits up hesitantly, like he hasn’t noticed Tony, and rubs his hand across his face. He pulls it away after a moment and frowns at it. Tony wonders why he looks so confused—it’s not like there’s anything wrong with the man’s hand. No scars or anything. 

��Hi, sir,” Tony says again. “Are you alright?”

The man jumps. He looks over at Tony—and there’s something weird about his eyes. Something… really weird. (Color, says a voice in the back of his mind that he hasn’t heard for a very, very long time. That’s color.)

“Who are you?” Tony asks. He parks the car completely now. 

The man looks down at his hands again. “I’m—” he begins. He’s frowning again.

“Come on now,” Tony encourages. “How hard can it be?”

The man tugs at the scarf around his neck—and it must be windier than Tony thought, because the edges of it are swaying as if of their own accord— and swallows. 

“I don’t know,” he says.

-

So of course Tony brings Stephen back with him. He prods at the man until Stephen manages to blurt out ‘Doctor Stephen Strange’ for no reason either of them can remember. But it makes Stephen relax, a little, to have it on his tongue. 

Tony catches Stephen staring at him after that. A lot. When he asks him why, Stephen has no clear answer; just a vague “you remind me of someone.” For Stephen’s part, all he knows is that seeing Tony gives him an indistinct sense of relief. Like he’d been missing someone deeply, and has now found it again. 

Still. He can’t quite put his finger on it. Just like he can’t quite put his finger on why his hands don’t hurt when he tries to write…

-

Vision visits Tony, sometimes, whenever he remembers, or whenever someone in the town mentions the old mechanic. He brings Wanda. They have fun, but Vision always goes home feeling slightly baffled. And Tony always feels like something hurts, deep in the center of his chest. 

Vision likes his adopted younger brother. (And Peter gets along just fine with the twins, too, when they come along, so Wanda doesn’t change anything about it). But when the man with the bright eyes stares at him with just a bit too much calculation on his face, Vision starts to be reminded of… things. Of suspicions. Of Geraldine and how she had no home and no history. And he doesn’t quite look Wanda in the eye that dinner. 

“What do you do?” Wanda asks, her voice a little hard, a little suspicious. Vision tries not to wince. Whatever it is she’s not telling him, this man at his father’s dinner table reminds her of it. 

Tony flips his fork, balancing it like one might a wrench. “Stephen’s a doctor,” he says.  

Wanda’s face flickers. “That’s funny,” she says blankly. “Because no one in this town ever needs one.” 

-

For a while, Tony Stark didn’t see anything amiss here. He was created, was consistent, was emptily and vaguely pleased. But Tony Stark is Tony Stark, whatever character he’s been told to play. Tony Stark wants to help people. 

And this man, this strange doctor with the eyes that would sometimes go blank for long minutes and the tears that would stain sharp cheeks for a reason he claimed not to remember, needs help.

So Tony Stark begins to scratch at Wanda’s walls. 

-

 “What do you mean he’s here?”

“I mean your little plan didn’t work,” Agatha says. She stands on the edge of Westview, speaking through a mirror of magic to the man outside. She’s liking this sorcerer less and less the more she works with him—but he has been rather helpful so far, so she continues to put up with him. 

“Does he remember?”

“No,” Agatha says. “The dad that Wanda made up for Vision has taken him in. It’s kind of adorable, actually.”

“Hm.” Mordo’s mouth twists. “You’ll finish the job?”

Agatha shrugs nonchalantly. “Sure. When I get around to it.”

“You don’t want to wait. Deal with Strange now, before he remembers how to be a threat.”

Agatha laughs. It’s brittle, fully conveying her hostility. “Ha, my good sorcerer, listen. Unless you want to come in here and do the job yourself, you’ll let me handle this my way.”

Agatha’s way involves getting to the bottom of things, of course. And that’s rather convenient… because Vision has begun to try to do the same thing. 

— — — —

Okay that’s all I have for now? The other bits are still solidifying in my mind, and it’s basically all Horrible Angst. I hope this scratches a little of the itch of your ask, though! Feel free, anyone, to add onto this if you’d like! I really enjoyed the show, and I think it has some really awesome AU potential. 

Thanks for the ask!!!

[aliensunflower-fics]

The Liar Trap: A Lila Salt Prompt

You expect me to believe that after Lila gets Marinette expelled that Marinette would just leave that alone? Marinette the girl who made a tamper proof DIARY box?? Yeah I don't think so years of Chloe messing with her and her things, Lila proving to be the same kind of bully, and then of course the added paranoia of hiding Tikki and a secret identity everyday should mean that Marinette is some kind of bully prepper from hell. So I present to you my idea:

Lila’s first attacks were when Marinette was unprepared Chloe had been getting soft lately choosing words over playing dirty the change had been brought on partially by Adrien and partially because Chloe and Sabrina were tired of falling prey to Marinette’s traps. And with the threat of Chloe diminished Alya and others had been able to convince Marinette to disarm her many safety precautions. But then sure enough along came Lila to exploit those weaknesses and exploit them she had! Marinette had been EXPELLED and even if the issue was eventually cleared up Marinette was back on the warpath!

By next monday her old traps were back up and new ones were being drafted. Everything from her bag to her sketchbook to her special art room locker had been fortified and prepared. Marinette had no doubt Lila would lay low for a while but eventually she would coil herself to strike again and when she did she would be caught in Marinette’s traps. Until then all she had to do was prepare and take lessons on composure and remaining calm reacting harshly to Lila’s lies would serve only to bury her; she needed a cool head to deal with the liar. And luckily Kagami was an amazing teacher and a devious friend with many suggestions of her own on how to handle Lila effectively now all Marinette had to do was wait.

It took Lila 2 weeks to make her next move the plan was simple enough, the liar had snagged Alya’s phone and planned to wait until Alya was frantic before ‘helpfully’ pointing out she'd seen it in Marinette’s school bag hopefully the whole thing would build tension between the pair and distrust for Lila to feed on. Only that never happened, stage 1 acquiring the phone was easy but it was during stage 2 slipping it in Marinette’s bag during class that she hit failure as her thin thieving hands were suddenly met with a SNAP upon entering Marinette’s bag. The trap was simple, a design loosely based on your everyday mouse trap only softened so it didn’t hurt QUITE as much after all Marinette didn't need Lila actually getting hurt. But still it hurt enough and was shocking enough that the little liar screamed disrupting class.

Now it was time for Kagami’s lessons to come into play. As Lila revealed her hand and wailed about Marinette’s bag attacking her, the baker keeps a calm head amid the confusion and accusations and “what the heck Marinette!” She explains that after being framed for cheating on the last test and her PAST experiences (At that everyone glances at Chloe) she decided to make her bag tamper proof. Lila is quick to accuse Marinette of bias against her as she tries to save face but Marinette just hides a smirk as Alya and everyone are quick to assure Lila that it isn't her but someone else (Chloe) that Marinette is accusing with the class firmly on her side Marinette frees Lila’s hand and tells the italian that next time she needs to borrow a pencil she should simply ask first. Furious Lila reveals her last card, Alya’s phone! And how it was in Marinette’s bag! Instead of an uproar or Marinette scrambling to defend herself Alya hugs Marinette and thanks her, apparently the blogger losing her phone is a common occurrence and its standard protocol for someone in class to pick it up and give it to her later. Score One: Marinette.

In the following weeks similar incidents occur. Lila manages to break into Marinette’s locker thinking the flimsy looking lock was the only thing holding her back only to find herself covered head to toe in cheap sticky glitter paint! Lila throws a fit and Marinette feigns concern that the art supplies she brought were so precariously placed she apologizes and kindly offers to make Lila a new outfit and then makes a point to ask in an innocent and confused tone that EVERYONE can hear just what Lila was doing in her locker in the first place? Lila gets her paws on Marinette’s sketchbook dreaming of stealing the girls designs and framing her? Tough luck she opens the sketchbook to an artfully crafted pop-up mocking her failure and every other page is empty! She goes after Marinette’s precious designs in the school art room? This time it's latex paint that falls on her. Dump coffee on Marinette? Somehow everything important is in waterproof cases and now the cutest guy in school (yes even cuter than Agreste) is offering Marinette his sweater so she can finish up the school day without an emergency home visit and hey is she free for the school dance? Steal her purse? Strangely enough, she gets seemingly cursed with bad luck and ends up caught red handed by Alix and Max and getting a REAL sprained wrist! 

And during every single incident Marinette is calm and forgiving and understanding and apologetic. She has answers for every accusation and is quick to turn whatever she can around after all why IS Lila looking in her locker? Why is she in the art room alone going through Marinette’s stuff!? Why does she clearly have one of Marinette’s sketchbooks in her bag? That’s the third thing she spilt on Marinette this month! The final piece is Marinette’s purse and the plague of bad luck it brings Lila the moment she snatches it suddenly everyone is a LOT more suspicious, because before? Well it could just be coincidence or bad luck or any of the other many excuses Lila had come up with but this time was different and Alix and Max were witnesses. Now everyone is keen to keep an eye on Lila, and with them paying closer attention they start to notice how easily and how often Lila is to blame Marinette for things, or how she casually and ‘helpfully’ (accuses) points out that Marinette of being a bad friend, or a ‘bully’.

Now how does Lila get exposed? There are options, maybe she gets caught red handed by the now observant classmates and this time she cant lie out of it. Maybe after all her failures to destroy her at school Lila tries to lie her way into the bakery only to learn the traps in Marinette’s room are worse. Maybe she gets careless in her frustration. Maybe Tikki’s residual bad luck from when Lila snagged the purse follows Lila ruining her. Or maybe now that everyone has a closer eye on Lila they realize how she targets Marinette how her friendly advice is needlessly harsh how her honey laced words don't sound QUITE right so eventually they all treat Lila like a friendly acquaintance but never trust her words eventually Lila snaps in frustration or maybe she just moves on. But no matter what happens the class apologize to Marinette and they work to be better friends the kind of friend Kagami turned out to be during the entire Lila ordeal, loyal trusting relying on honest communication to work through hardships.

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[camuslittlesister]

‘Tis the Season for Smut 2.0 Content Creation Challenge V

Dec 15th

I can’t believe it’s already the last day of the challenge! I had a half-baked idea of using the free prompt for a Kazama 2.0 (one year later) because I love him too much not to give him the girl in the end but of course I had to get ill, push Nagakura back a few days, and not even get around to writing it until 10pm today (so Kazama 2.0 also has yet to be written...). It may or may not happen outside of the challenge, maybe I just need to make Hakuoki smut my thing without it being tied to something.

Also, if you have only played the OG this version of Shinpachi will leave you ??? but trust me, it’s an improvement on what he’s actually like in SSL...

Previous fics: Kazama || Hijikata || Harada || Sanan

Prompt: N/A  Ship: Shinpachi Nagakura x OC   CW: Not ideal if you think women should only be submissive (but it’s as vanilla as Hijikata’s)

“It’s not safe to just stop like this at the bottom of a slope, Kakizuki” Nagakura slid to the side of his colleague from behind.“Oh, Shinpachi, I was looking for you...well, everyone...” he tried not to show his disappointment at her follow-up “it looks like it’ll be sunset soon and I’d rather see it from the hot tub than try and fit in another go...” “That sounds like a plan...I’m sure you’ll be fine if you go back without telling them, surely they won’t send a search party without checking at the resort?” he smiled brightly and she smiled back. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right...are you going back up?” “I was thinking I might join you, if you’ll have me...” “Of course. Everything is better when shared with friends” it was like a knife to his heart. Of course she’d only see him as a friend. He may have had a stable job as a teacher at a prestigious academy but he wasn’t that good at managing his life, and she had bailed him out of bad situations plenty of times. She was an amazing woman and gorgeous to boot, so she must have had plenty of options...even on that trip alone he had tough competition. His friend Sanosuke, who was the kind of man women die for; Hijikata, who looked like a film star, was the heir to a medical family, and taught classics...he may have been severe but she seemed to get along with him; and Sanan, the witty and gentlemanly school nurse, so good looking if he was drunk enough he’d have probably kissed him too. How could he compete? He was lost in these speculations as she talked animatedly about something he had no idea about, until it was time to go to their respective rooms and reconvene in the conservatory. She was already in the hot tub when he joined her, and he regretted wasting as much time as he did because now all he could see of her undressed was her breasts. Not that it wasn’t enough to make the water feel even hotter... He sat down on the opposite side: “You won’t see much of the sunset if it’s behind you”, she said, chuckling “come on, I don’t bite...” he couldn’t resist her cutesy exaggerated pleading tone, so he moved to sit next to her, at enough of a distance not to feel self-conscious about it. He took a swing of his drink as she relaxed deeper into the bath, looking blissful. Was that what she looked like after sex? Oh, what he wouldn’t give to know... "This is the first time we've been alone like this, isn't it? It's almost like a date..." she broke the silence after a while. "The others are taking their time, huh? Sorry you're stuck with just me" he smiled sheepishly. "Why would you say that? I wish we did it more often..." she turned to look at him, a puzzled expression on her face "of course I would understand if you didn't..." his expression turned to shock. Did he hear her correctly? She wanted to date him? "Do you mean it? I can't see why you'd want to go out with me..." "Why? You're handsome, clever, funny, and know how to have a good time..." "But...aren't you embarrassed? You had to bail me out so many times...heck, even Yukimura did!" "So what? It's not 1864, can't a woman pay for her man? Also, I'm loaded, I can spoil you to my heart's content just fine..." "Do you really want me? To be your man?" she didn't reply; instead, she closed the distance, kissing him gently, an expectant look on her face when they separated. He nearly kissed her back: "No, not here, if I kiss you now I will not be able to stop" he grabbed the towels and wrapped her in one, carrying her like a princess to his room, a single set of wet footsteps on the wood to incriminate them once the other men returned. He laid her on the bed like she was something precious and fragile, asking her once again if she was sure that she wanted it. She looked mildly exasperated as she defiantly undid her bikini top. He thought he must have died and gone to heaven as he rushed to hide his face in her bosom, the thin fabric of his swimming trunks not able to contain him. She was observing his muscles tense with every movement as he removed the last of their swimsuits, still somewhat hesitant to take the final step no matter how available she made herself. Finally, she took him by surprise in a moment of distraction, managing to push him down on the bed despite his size, taking control of the situation. She wasted no time climbing onto his lap, all the confidence of a modern woman determined to spoil the man she had been in love with for months. If she had to be forceful and loud for him to accept that her feelings were real then that was what she would be, she thought to herself as she tried to find the right rhythm for him and angle for her, his hands finally reaching up to support her as the reality of it happening sunk in at last. He couldn't believe he was really hearing her moan his name as she squeezed him tightly inside her, but he couldn't deny that it was happening. Either it was, or he was in a coma-induced fantasy after a ski accident, but either way he was going to enjoy it. "I love you, Kikuzuki" he cried out, just before he climaxed. She curled up on his chest, languidly: "It took you long enough..." she replied, the end of the sentence stolen by his kiss. 

[writing-frenzy]

Can't remember if I sent another prompt you haven't answered yet or not ^^'. So have a new one ! SQH is paranoid and over-prepared. As such he carries on him at all time so many knives. And talisman. And cures for poisons. Then he has a meeting with another sect where no weapons are allowed. Cue him removing them all (or most of them) in front of others, and being surprised it's not the norm (it's a ridiculous world ! why wouldn't you carry 5 swords at all time, even if you rarely use them ?)

Sorry for the lateness, things have been a bit crazy at my job. That said, this will probably be the last of the prompts I do. Thank you for giving me all those awesome ideas! As for the prompt... it may have gone it’s own way on me here... (I might have been inspired by Tossawary again... Go check out their fics, they are the most addicting~)

-----

So...  ‘Peace Talks’... between Huan Hua Palace and Anqiu Shrine Hall...

Shang Qinghua has to wonder why this is his life?! Why does that fucking creep of an Old Palace Master have to go pissing off the one Sect in his entire world that Really shouldn’t be fucked with? Is it the strongest or most formidable? No, but it’s strengths in healing and Alchemy are unparalleled the world over. Too the point even demons don’t fuck with it, seeing as the Shrine Hall treats everyone, no matter the blood or look, as long as one has not committed the ‘Great Sins’ as they call it.

(Most of which boils down to ‘Don’t be a dick’ and ‘CONSENT DAMIT!!’. Airplane may not have created them, but damn does he feel respect for their work, and the history of just how they formed.)

But yes, the Old Palace Master is trying (key word on the trying) to manipulate the politics and polices of Anqiu Shrine Hall, especially the Free Healthcare and treating everyone, while Anqiu Hall wants to kick the Palace Master’s ass to next Sunday. (or as it is called here, the Day of Wind; yeah, cheating with time and calling weekdays after the elements may have not been his best idea, but it sure as heck worked, especially when he had to live with it.) And Anqiu has so many indebted to it, so many willing, both demon and cultivator alike, it could very, very easily wipe out Huan Hua Palace if it actually wished to. 

It is also very, very lucky that the Shrine Hall does not blame the innocents learning their for their fucking Creep of a Sect Master’s conduct, and does not want to hurt them, no matter how arrogant they act. So, Cang Qiong Mountain Sect, which has been called to meditate between the two, would just like this to end peacefully and without a war between Sects threatening to rise please.

Which, hopefully if they play their cards right, they could push back at least another 25-50 years, and by then the Protagonist will wreck everything, driving it all moot. Shang Qinghua prays for that day to come so much; he really, really didn’t think, with all the cultivation sects he made as Airplane, that so many of them would be capable of starting so much shit with each other like this. They were just there to trouble the Protagonist, not each other! Stop making him get more paperwork! He is really sick of seeing Yue Qingyuan’s despairing smile shared with his own face!

But as it is, they are still causing problems now, which leads him back in the circle of the topic he has been avoiding; The Peace Talks that Cang Qiong Sect with be leading, with himself, Yue Qingyuan, Shen Qingqiu, and Mu Qingfang as support and a healer’s take...

Shang Qinghua really, really wants to take all the knives he has and call it a day. That said, the last time he had, and had to take them all out before a meeting, because apparently no other weapons besides spiritual swords were allowed, and even then they had to be placed in front on the table as everyone talked. (which??? He didn’t get? Are you asking to be attacked??)

But with each weapon and deadly knife and trap he pulled out, Yue Qingyuan had used strained smile number 20, the one with a lot more despair and disbelief, not to mention the other blank looks he received from the rest of the sects in that meeting, nor how they casually backed away when Shang Qinghua finally finished disarming... and Shen Qingqiu had actually looked thoughtful and approving...

So, only taking along several of his more of his useful and sneaky knives, to at least make him feel better if nothing else, Shang Qinghua goes for more of a stealth idea this time, with a focus on defense.

Multiple Evil Repealing Talismans, along with useful tracking, poison repel and barrier will at least be able to work to his favor, and if need be, he can use the sandwich method to squish any foes, while also able to knock back any healing items away form them, with a easy fix to the poison repel. It can, if he has time for it, even make it to where any buffs or healing a person does to themselves reverse, rapidly, leaving them weaker then they were at base health.

The tracking talismans are of course for him to place on everyone in the room, just so he can know just what everyone is doing if they plan to become a threat and all.

Thinking about it, Shang Qinghua can’t help but be pleased, as while having many knives on one person is nice, it is even better to have a near endless supply of Talismans on his person. That he can even make more if needed is just a bigger plus in his book as well, as if you lose a knife, there is very little chance of getting it back unless you have a return seal on them.

But as it is, if he runs out of Qi... hmmm. Ah!

Getting out some of his jewelry, Shang Qinghua gets to work.

Some Pills already look gem-like, why not make use of that? messing with some of the rings students have made, Shang Qinghua has managed to incorporate numerous pills into his rings, hair ordainments, and even a few necklaces. Even a few elixirs were managed, with him sneaking it into one of his necklaces, while two others were added into some of his already hallowed hairpins! 

It even looks cool, the clear jade casing to cover the pill fragrances causing a rather unique effect with the already beautiful top grade pills and crystal colored liquids. Very fitting as his station as a Peak Lord!

He was even able to sneak in some really deadly wires, replacing them with the strings with several necklaces! (of course, he makes sure to have a qi binding seal placed on them, dulling them until he is actually ready to pull them off; there is no need to take off his own head here, thank you very much.)

Looking at the outfit he has made for himself, Shang Qinghua can’t help the pleased smile on his face as he does.

At least with this, he will be prepared for most anything! Hmmm, he might even be able to go to the Northern Palace Court like this?

With that, Shang Qinghua is off, wondering what else he can do with his outfits.

(A lot, apparently)

[pilot-boi]

Fifth Wheel

In my version of what happens post-Atlas, Jaune and Marrow have a talk about things that should be simple, but actually aren’t. Boats and sunsets and feelings galore, and maybe Marrow learning that it’s okay to belong to something.

AO3 LINK

It’s been about a week. Not that long in the grand scheme of things, but after Marrow’s whole world managed to fall down in a couple of hours, a week was a long time.

A week since Ironwood was arrested. A week since Atlas fell. A week since Marrow gave up on pretending that siding with Atlas was anything short of horrible.

He’d given up on following the orders of people who didn’t care about the people they were supposed to be protecting. He’d given up on the people who thought that a “shoot to kill” order against a bunch of kids was an okay order to follow.

A bunch of kids, ha. What a joke. He wasn’t much older than these so-called kids. And Marrow didn’t doubt for a second that if he’d been on the wrong side of that order, his former comrades wouldn’t have hesitated to fire on him, too.

They’d allowed those three to storm that whale. By themselves. How could he possibly claim that they were on the right side of history after Arc had to beg to be allowed to march straight into enemy territory? All to rescue a friend that the General had written off as “an acceptable loss.”

So he’d left. Without much fanfare, what with the whole world falling down around everyone’s ears in more ways than one. Marrow had helped them in the end, and they’d welcomed him with mostly open arms. Some animosity was expected, and he didn’t begrudge them of it for a second.

Team RWBY, as they’d been known at Beacon, were mostly amicable but still distant. He hadn’t really been friends with them before martial law was declared, at least not past casual coworkers. So they were kind and friendly, but mostly left him alone.

However Team ALPN, as they’d dubbed themselves, added him to their little family faster than he could blink. The supposedly professionally-clinical friendship that he’d had with Arc before wasn’t nearly as professionally-clinical as he’d thought. Jaune smoothed the transition by simply accepting him without a second glance, and Marrow couldn’t be more grateful.

He did wish he could stop feeling guilty though.

Every time Oscar winced when he moved wrong and one of his still healing injuries twinged, Marrow had to fight to stop his traitorous tail from drooping. Every time he caught sight of Nora’s scars he had to hide a flinch. Every time he was in a room with Ren, Marrow froze, certain that the kid was somehow going to find out more of the things he was trying to keep hidden.

And every time Jaune so much as glanced his way, Marrow had to avert his eyes to avoid eye contact and the damn feeling that the kid was x-raying him. His black-haired teammate was supposed to be the one who could read feelings, why was Jaune the one who he couldn’t keep eye contact with without feeling like he was reading him like an open book?

And always it ended with a look of sort of understanding, sort of pity, and more and more of the concerned glances. With how many of them Jaune kept giving him, he probably wasn’t hiding any of it as well as he’d hoped. That kid was too much of a worrier for his own good.

A message over the faulty CCT. Some of the kid’s friends were in trouble in Vacuo. With another Relic in tow, they’d set out at once, and Marrow had been allowed to tag along. That was a week ago.

A week of traveling, of worry for the future and fear of the past, and of trying to figure out where he fit in his new “team”. A week of slowly building up the courage to just talk to these kids like the friends they clearly saw him as.

After the events of a few days ago, everyone had been needing their space. Marrow could understand that, so he’d made himself scarce in the central gathering areas. He might not have been at the Fall of Beacon, but he’d seen enough of the footage and read enough of the reports to know that this had to have opened some old wounds for the kids.

Wandering the deck of their ship had become a pastime of his. He’d never really seen much of the world outside of Atlas, and seeing the water look more green and warm than steely and cold was more odd than he could put into words.

It was like his hair had decided to become liquid, which was the weirdest thought he’d had in years. Although judging by the sort of passing comments he’d heard from Nora and Ruby, it appeared that thinking irrationally came with the territory of associating (read: being almost friends) with these kids.

Currently, he was sitting perched on the railing of the ship, uniform jacket lying abandoned beside him. Double insulated, top of the line, silver buttons, expertly tailored. The mark of an Ace-Op.

A former Ace-Op. He’d defected and so no longer legally had the right to wear the uniform, but he had no other clothes. On a different note, he felt more than a little awkward wearing the uniform of the military that had knowingly abandoned the majority of its civilian population, and had instigated a retreat plan that involved leaving said civilian population to the proverbial dogs.

Plus it was just too freaking hot to wear right now. The ocean from Solitas to Sanus was no tundra, that was for sure.

“Mind if I join you?” came a voice to his left, shocking Marrow out of his thoughts. Only years of training kept him from pitching over the side of the ship into the frothy water below.

It was just Jaune, out of his armor for once, and looking like his smile had only just now been wiped away by Marrow probably looking like he was having a heart attack. They stared at each other for a few seconds, time ticking irrevocably onwards, Marrow’s brain simply refusing to process whatever the hell Jaune had just said.

A few more seconds passed, mostly consisting of Jaune just staring at him like he expected some kind of response. “Did you need something?” Marrow eventually asked, wincing at the edge that he hadn’t meant to put into his voice.

“Can I join you.”

“Oh. Oh yeah! Yeah sure, whatever,” Marrow replied quickly, “I mean if you want.”

“Thanks.” Jaune leant his forearms on the railing, wrists crossed, one ankle hooked around the other. He would’ve seemed perfectly casual if Marrow couldn’t see the tension in his shoulders and the dark circles under his eyes as clear as day. Kid wasn’t taking this any better than the rest of them.

The wind over the ocean ruffled his blonde hair and caught the red sash at his waist. Eyes that seemed to reflect both the sky above and the sea below stared out over the waves. Freckles that could never have been caused by the harsh cold sun of Solitas dusted their way across his cheeks and down his arms and-

-And Marrow abruptly realized he was staring and returned to gazing determinedly out over the waves.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, simply existing in each other’s presence. Jaune didn’t attempt to start a conversation, for which Marrow was supremely grateful. He honestly didn’t know what he would say in response even if a conversation started.

It was an awkward comfortable kind of silence. Teetering on the edge of concerning and companionable. But eventually Marrow found himself relaxing and settling back into the semi-slumped over posture he’d been in before Jaune walked up. His tail started to sway with the rhythm of the boat, but he put a stop to that as soon as it began moving.

“Ya know,” Jaune suddenly spoke, and Marrow froze. Still not taking his eyes off the ocean, he said “You don’t hafta do that.”

“Do what?” he couldn’t help asking, looking over at him in confusion.

“Your tail, you don’t have to stop it from… doing whatever it does or whatever,” Jaune explained vaguely, glancing away from the ocean to meet his gaze. Eyes too wide and too discerning, Marrow could only maintain eye contact for a second before returning his gaze to the waves.

“Yeah well, maybe I want to,” he replied, a little defensively. No, wait he wasn't getting defensive. Why would he be getting defensive? “Why do you care anyway? It’s not like it affects you.”

“That’s true,” Jaune conceded, shifting so his weight was resting on his other foot. “It just seems like it might get irritating after a while, to have to think about it all the time.”

Marrow resolutely kept his eyes on the ocean, not acknowledging what Jaune had said. “It’s fine.” He sighed, slumping a little. “I’ve gotten used to it.” This time he couldn’t keep the tinge of dejection out of his voice.

“Hey,” Jaune said sharply all of a sudden, voice more hard than it had been before. “Just because you’ve gotten used to it doesn’t mean you should’ve had to.”

Marrow hesitated at that, brow furrowing in confusion. “What?” he asked, turning to face the other. “What the heck does that mean?”

Jaune’s determined expression faltered slightly and he grinned sheepishly for a moment. “Yeah, wasn’t my best line I have to admit,” he shrugged, returning his gaze to the ocean and rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. Marrow didn’t turn away.

“So?” he prompted after a moment of silence.

“What?”

“What did you mean?”

“Oh! I guess…” Jaune paused to collect his thoughts, something that Marrow had already seen do several times. Even after only a couple weeks of knowing each other, Marrow could already tell that sometimes Jaune’s mouth went faster than his brain could keep up with.

“I guess what I meant was…” He kept his eyes trained on the waves, brow furrowed in some emotion that Marrow couldn’t identify. “...Was that Atlas freaking sucks for making you feel like you had to suppress a signal of how you’re feeling, just to fit in.”

Oh.

That was anger.

That expression was anger, anger on Marrow’s behalf.

Like the righteous anger Jaune had shown on the tundra when they’d refused to help the citizens of Mantle escape the river of Grimm. Like the desperate anger Jaune had expressed after nearly being denied permission to rescue Oscar. Like the raging anger Jaune had screamed at Ironwood after finding out that his friends had been injured and hunted on the General’s orders.

All in defense of someone or something the blonde cared about. Jaune wore his emotions on his sleeve, as far as Marrow could tell. He’d never seen someone’s face be so expressive, without even a hint that Jaune was trying to hide anything he felt.

But now that anger was targeted at someone else, and Marrow was the one who was being defended. With that same fire in his eyes.

“Sorry if I’m overstepping!” Jaune started backpedaling after Marrow didn’t respond. “Jeez, I probably just shouldn't have said anything, right?”

“No!” Marrow interjected. “No. It’s fine.” He unhooked his ankles around the railing beneath him and slumped slightly. “You’re right,” Marrow admitted reluctantly, kicking his feet and staring at the water below.

“I am?” Jaune asked, sounding astounded, and even without looking, Marrow could tell that Jaune had looked away from the waves.

Yeah, he was right, and that was a whole different thing he needed to unpack at a later date. But for now… for now he needed to ask…

“Why do you even care?” Marrow refused to look away from the water now, certain that Jaune was giving him one of those wide-eyed looks that he didn’t know what to do with. “It’s my tail after all, not yours.” My feelings, not yours. My institutionalized suppression, not yours.

“I guess I don’t really care,” Jaune admitted, and Marrow had to admit that hurt. He didn’t really know why it hurt, but it was definitely going on the pile of things not to unpack later. If he slumped any further, he was going to fall off the damn boat, and honestly he didn’t know if that was a bad outcome. “It is your tail, so it’s by all rights your business.”

“I guess partially I relate a little bit, but...” he admitted and hesitated again. A little astonished that they could possibly share common ground on something like this, Marrow risked a glance at him. That same damned look of sort of understanding, sort of pity.

“But man it’s not your tail I care about,” Jaune clarified, smiling softly at him, and Marrow didn’t know what exactly he’d done to earn that smile, “I couldn’t care less about that, I care about you.”

Gods above what the sweet hell was Marrow supposed to do with that?!

“Why?” Marrow heard himself ask from wherever the shock had sent his brain.

Jaune looked honestly taken aback by that, mouth slightly agape, eyes wide, eyebrows raised high enough that they were threatening to escape into his hairline. In any other situation Marrow might have laughed.

While Jaune pondered his question, Marrow’s brain struggled to process Jaune’s frankly ridiculous claim.

They were on the same team, fine. He’d been pleased to find that they didn’t insist on keeping the kind of distant professionalism that the Ace-Ops had always enforced. But Marrow clearly didn’t fit into the dynamic the four of them had set up.

He was the odd one out, the Atlesian defective, adopted into team ALPN because he had nowhere else to go. Academy teams were made up of four people: five was right out. It was just logical that with them already having bonds forged from fighting for their freaking lives, that Marrow be the odd one out.

On top of all that, they’d barely known each other for a month. A month during which Marrow had actively aided the former leader of the Atlesian military stage a coup and hunt down any and all of Jaune’s friends for treason.

And now Jaune was claiming to care about him? All with that damned smile on his face.

“Why wouldn’t I care about you?” Jaune eventually asked, not even bothering to hide the confusion in his voice.

“Answering with a question,” Marrow noted, a ghost of a smile on his lips for the first time in this conversation that had gone nowhere near where he thought it was going.

“Yeah shut up.” Jaune rolled his eyes. “Asking why I care is like…” he fumbled for the words for a moment. “...is like asking why the sun comes up in the morning, or why water is wet, or why the moon is shattered.”

“But you know why the moon is shattered.”

“Yes! Still shut up!” Jaune waved away his comments, the look of worried confusion finally being replaced by the sort of sad smile again. “I care because I do, okay? It’s just who I am.”

But that wasn’t the answer Marrow wanted to hear, because he needed concrete reasons and evidence. Wishy-washy “Because” wasn’t going to do, he needed to know the reasons why.

“But if it helps,” Jaune amended, and Marrow perked up unconsciously. “I care because you’re a great guy, and because quite honestly I think you need someone to just care about you without strings attached.”

That… maybe Marrow could work with that. No strings attached sounded nice.

“And I also care because you’re part of my team, and ‘round here that means something,” Jaune said, the ‘not like in Atlas’ going unspoken. “So you’re just gonna have to deal with it, because it’s not going away any time soon!”

His eyes were shining again. That same fire from when he’d been angry on Marrow’s behalf, angry at people who weren’t even here to see his expression. His eyes were shining, his shoulders were set defiantly, and even still leaning on the railing he looked like he was prepared to keep arguing the point until Marrow conceded. Fighting until he understood.

But he didn’t understand it. And he also didn’t understand why Jaune looked so upset. The silence stretched on. Marrow had no words, and it seemed like Jaune had nothing more to say. What was he supposed to say to all of that? What kind of response was an appropriate freaking follow up?

Marrow dropped Jaune’s gaze and went back to staring out over the waves. The sun was starting to set. Had they really been out here for that long?

“Thank you,” Marrow eventually said, voice quiet enough that he half hoped that Jaune wouldn’t hear. He may not understand it, but he could accept that for whatever reason, Jaune Arc had chosen to care about him.

Even though that was not how it was supposed to work. And even though that was not how it was supposed to work, somehow all of Marrow’s carefully built defenses had been chipped away. X-rayed away by eyes that reflected the sky and the sea.

Out of the corner of his eye Marrow could see Jaune un-tense. “No problem,” the blonde responded, matching Marrow’s volume. Relief was coloring his words, and Marrow had to wonder why. It was like Jaune had half-expected Marrow to fight him at the end of his heartfelt speech or something.

The sun sank lower to the horizon, and the two of them lapsed back into the companionable silence that they’d started the conversation with. But now the awkwardness was gone, and Marrow frankly had no idea why. It was like some invisible wall had come down.

“I meant it ya know,” Jaune murmured, some unknown amount of time later. “What I said before, I wasn’t just saying it. I meant it.”

Marrow glanced over at him. The wind ruffled his hair and caught his sash. Freckles danced their way across his cheeks and speckled the arms he was resting his chin on. His eyes were on the horizon, watching the sun sink into the ocean, blue eyes alight with the fire from the distant star.

He looked worried. Brows pushed together, eyes intent on the sinking sun. The bags were still under his eyes and the tension still hadn’t left his friend’s posture. Marrow realized with a start that he was one of Jaune’s worries.

The realization didn’t send him spiraling into confusion like it might have done earlier in the day.

“I know you meant it.” And although Marrow didn’t know what the little bundle of emotions he felt in the pit of his stomach meant, he knew with every fiber of his being that Jaune Arc meant it when he said that he cared.

And if a soft smile crossed his lips and if his tail swayed a little faster than the rhythm of the boat, who was to say?

[mindingmyownbusiness]

20 Seconds

Meet Cute Moment

So like I haven’t written anything new in like a thousand years but I’ve been feeling the itch so I randomly chose a prompt from a meet cute list aaaand here goes nothing!

Bucky x Reader (+bffs Wanda & Steve on the side lol)

You walk out of a dressing room asking if the outfit suits you, but it’s not your friend waiting outside the room like you thought

Dressing rooms are the absolute worst. You’d lost count of how many you’d broken down and cried in over the years. Heck, you wouldn’t even be in this one if Wanda wasn’t having an engagement party in a couple weeks and you were stuck with nothing decent to wear. “The things I do for my best friend,” you muttered under your breath as you shimmied into what had to be the tenth dress of the day only to realize you couldn’t even bring the fabric together far enough to pull the zipper up.

Your quiet scream of frustration as you flung the dress onto the growing pile of discarded clothing was met with laughter and a knock at the door. “It can’t be that bad sweetie.” You cracked the door to see Wanda’s cheeky grin and another armful of options.

“Wanna bet?” you sighed as you grabbed the next round out of her hands.

“I’ve got a good feeling about these!” She called out as you let the door swing shut. “And I actually wanna see some of them this time!”

Reluctantly you did as you were told and made an appearance with a few of the least offensive options. At least she didn’t try to talk you into any of them, one of the things you loved about your best friend was that she was honest (but not brutally so) and that she truly wanted the best for you. You shook your head at the latest fail, “This is pointless Wan, maybe we should just call it a day...”

“Absolutely NOT! We are getting closer I swear, just a few more? For me...?” You couldn’t help but smile at her ridiculous eye batting and over exaggerated pout.

“Alright, alright... you’re lucky I love you, you know that?”

“Yup! Now get in there and get naked, we haven’t got all day!” She turned you around and swatted your butt, ignoring your faux glare as you shut the dressing room door and resumed your seemingly endless battle.

Grabbing the next contender off its hanger you paused, instantly noticing a difference. The fabric was silky soft, practically caressing your hips as you pulled it up and slipped your arms through the straps effortlessly. Turning to look in the mirror your jaw literally dropped. Somehow this miracle dress accentuated the curves you loved while disguising the ones you loved less, the length was absolutely perfect, and the fabric draped over your chest just so as to make you feel sexy but also demure and not at all in danger of a wardrobe malfunction.

“Hey Wan? I think we might have a winner here,” you called out as you opened the dressing room door, distractedly tucking the tag out of sight to get a better idea of the full effect.

“I’d be inclined to agree with you, doll.” Said a voice that was definitely not your best friend. Nope, this voice was deep and smooth and the absolute opposite of how your perky redheaded bff sounded. Not to mention that this particular voice was coming out of the most gorgeous male specimen you had ever laid eyes on. “If you don’t mind me sayin’ so, the guy who gets to take you out in that is gonna be one lucky s.o.b.”

Your brain was screaming at you to be cool but in reality the best you could do was an undignified squeak as his smirk just seemed to get wider causing the heat from your cheeks to quickly spread down your neck and onto your chest.

“If only there was a lucky s.o.b. In her life, but there isn’t,” Wanda stage whispered conspiratorially in the mystery man’s direction as she appeared out of nowhere, taking your hand and giving you a twirl so she could examine you from all sides. Your chronic muteness persisted as Wanda let out a low whistle of approval, “Stop the presses, this is definitely THE one! See? I knew we shouldn’t give up.” She cupped your face affectionately and you couldn’t help but smile back at her. “Now, you might have the dress but Cinderella can’t go to the ball without shoes! I think I saw some that would be perfect with this. Be right back!” And before you could blink she was gone, leaving you alone again with bachelor number one.

Just as the awkward silence was on the verge of uncomfortable he spoke up. “So, ah.. if you don’t mind me asking, what’s the occasion?”

“Oh!” you squeaked, suddenly finding your voice. “I, um my friend just then, Wanda, best friend actually she-- well it’s her thing really. Engagement party, weekend after next. Wouldn’t miss it for the world but I-I couldn’t exactly show up dressed like the hermit I am on the regular so...” Your voice trailed off as you realized your awkward silence had just morphed into a rambling overshare. Clearing your throat your eyes darted around desperate to look at anything but him.

He stood slowly, stepping up behind you and catching your eye in the mirror. “I bet you could wear a potato sack and still be the loveliest gal in the joint.” His sweet smile and sincere words were sending a flurry of butterflies loose in your stomach. “Hard to believe someone pretty as you would be going out looking like such a dish all alone...”

“You know, she doesn’t have to since you just happen to be free that weekend,” a tall muscular blonde interjects as he steps out of the dressing room next to yours and slaps your mystery man on the back before turning to introduce himself. “Hi there, I’m Steve.”

“Seriously man?” the brunet muttered through clenched teeth as he shoved Steve’s arm away.

“What? Like you were going to be doing anything that weekend other than watching Netflix on the couch covered in Cheeto dust?” Steve winked at you with a telling grin then headed toward the front to pay for his purchases. “Don’t screw this up pal!” he called over his shoulder as he went.

“Ignore my idiot best friend. Sticks his nose into my business too often for his own good...” He was the one looking at the ground now, rubbing the back of his neck as he avoided your gaze.

“No worries, Wanda’s exactly the same way.” You quietly replied, nervously smoothing away nonexistent wrinkles in your skirt as that awkward silence from earlier returned. As it became more obvious that he wasn’t going to say anything else you reluctantly eased towards your dressing room. “Well I’m um.. I should probably go change...”

At the door you paused, you could almost hear Wanda’s voice in your head screaming at you to not let this one get away. Twenty seconds of insane courage, right? Taking a deep breath you turned, stopping just in front of where he sat with his head in his hands.

“You know, I really do hate going to these things alone...” His head snapped up, his brow adorably furrowed. “Better with two, yeah?” You smile shyly and twist your hands together nervously. He stands up slowly, carefully reaching out, taking your hands in his. You open your mouth with the intent to ask him to officially be your plus one when you suddenly realize what’s missing and you can’t help but erupt into a fit of giggles. “Here I am about to ask you out and I don’t even know your name!”

He chuckles right along with you. “Maybe we should get introductions out of the way then, yeah? I’m James, but my friends call me Bucky.” He raises your knuckles to his lips for a chaste kiss.

“Nice to meet you Bucky, my friends call me Y/N.” Aaaand my blush is back. Dammit.

“Y/N... a beautiful name for a beautiful girl.” Now he’s smirking again. I am in so much trouble.

“You are quite the charmer, Bucky.”

“Oh you haven’t seen the half of it, doll.”

Laughing you take a step back, “Okay.. so, I definitely have to change now. Be right back, don’t you go disappearing on me.”

He shakes his head, a mischievous smile on his lips. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

You manage to wait until the dress is back on the hanger before you break out into an impromptu victory dance in the dressing room. Practically vibrating with excitement, for the first time in ages you consider a future full of happy possibilities.

[teenytinystorage]

One Strawberry Shortcake

Summary: A prinxiety bakery AU inspired by a Bakery AU prompt!

Word count: 3,801

Warnings: Multiple detailed food descriptions, one “dying from adorableness” mention

Genre: Fluff, romance, and tons of flirty banter

Pairings: Prinxiety

Enjoy! :)

-

Imagine the smell of fresh pastries. All of the pastries you can imagine.

Chocolate cakes, raspberry cupcakes, chocolate chip cookies, strawberry eclairs, confectioners sugar, vanilla cakes fresh from the oven.

Imagine the taste of the sweetest, most fruity desserts you can imagine, still warm from the oven, that melt in your mouth.

Or, imagine the feeling of frosting splattered all over your hands. Licking it off to taste the tantalizing flavors of blueberry and strawberry folded together into one fluffy confection. Or even flour caked all over your clothes. Messy indeed, but delightful in an unexplainably nostalgic way. Or the sound of oven dings. Or delectable treats trapped in glass display cases surrounding you in all directions like a tasty little army.

Now imagine all of these sensations every day from 8 to 4 for five days a week. Amazing, right?

Roman Dante would certainly agree.

He worked as a humble cake decorator, sometimes as a server when he was the last resort, at Sanders Bake Shop, a small local bakery with a few locations scattered around Gainesville, Florida.

It had everything you think it would: baby blue striped wallpaper, tiled floor, a delightfully large selection of treats, a modest kitchen, and smiles and kind greetings from the workers upon every customer that entered into the door.

And Roman’s location was managed by a tall, strict fellow by the name of Logan Mortensen. He was the no-nonsense, follow-the-recipe-like-your-life-depends-on-it type. Aka, not a paragon of fun, or anything really that a bakery would call for.

But, he kept the finances in check and he would scarcely run the kitchen, both of which Roman was thankful for. And Logan did admire Roman’s ability to cull the most immaculate designs for desserts from his ever-working mind, which Roman was humbly flattered by. So, overall, certainly not the worst manager he could have.

And all of his other coworkers? They were all just as sweet as the desserts they served. Especially the modest lead baker, Patton Stockton. Gosh, just talking to him gave Roman a brain cavity. A lovely lad with a heart of the purest gold. He was on a three-day vacation right now, but Roman was still overjoyed at the prospect of being able to talk to him again soon.

The oven dinged. Roman slipped two maroon oven mitts onto his hands, and he lifted open the oven door, his face being hit with the fresh scent of chocolate cake and the oven’s radiating warmth. He lifted up the cake pan and set it onto a patch of floral-decorated cloth, surrounded by many other cloth patches across a wide marble counter in the middle of the kitchen.

Roman pranced over to the pastry fridge, his steps following the invigoratingly poppy rhythm of “Don’t Stop Me Now” from Queen that flowed through his left earbud, while his right earbud waited patiently in his red apron pocket.

(The song was on his “Decoration Dancing” playlist, aka a playlist just for decorating cakes and also to jam out to on slow work days. Logan didn’t really approve of listening to music while baking, but it kept Roman productive, albeit in a very extraneous way, but productive nonetheless, so he let Roman listen to music.)

Roman opened the long glass fridge door before he quickly strode back to the cake, raised it up in his arms gently like a newborn, and after sliding back to the pastry fridge, placed it inside and shut the door behind it.

He adored his job and everything about it. He treasured every day that he stepped in the front glass doors and heard the tiny metallic pink bell above him welcome him with an adorable little ding.

But what he most admired were all the patrons of the bakeshop. The shop wasn’t swamped with people very often, so it was facile for Roman to listen to and observe all the different customers from his workspace.

There were the usual groups of small families or pairs looking for a few cookies or cupcakes to snack on, the occasional frazzled man or woman before a wedding frantically trying to pick out an extravagant cake, and, of course, tons of birthday party planners.

A parent or two would come inside with tiny, adorable children and pick out whichever design the child wanted, more than likely a Disney character or a superhero or a Barbie doll dress cake, and Roman’s heart would melt every time he saw their admiring smiles of Roman’s work.

Roman mostly stayed in the back with Patton, though, seeing as the other employees would go serve, and also because he wasn’t too good at keeping track of orders, nor was he very interested in serving anyway.

However, he still enjoyed leaning past the kitchen doorway opening with Patton and seeing all the adorable children pressing their faces against the glass in awe. Both of them cherished the patrons and watched to see what treats they’d have to whip up together.

But, enough with all of that. Roman could go on and on forever about how much he adored his job.

And besides, the bell above the door rang, signaling Roman to turn his head towards Logan, who was on the other side of the counter reading a recipe book and mixing a bowl of cupcake dough together. (Logan had to take the role of baker today, seeing as Patton eventually succumbed to Logan’s rantings about Patton needing to take a break once and awhile from constant working. Roman felt bad for anyone who had to have the drab delicacies baked up by the subpar chef.)

“Hey, Lo,” Roman whispered.

Logan looked up from the recipe, adjusting his charcoal glasses.

Roman quickly tilted his head towards the door. “I gotta answer that?”

Logan nodded. “All the servers are on break.”

“Curses,” Roman grumbled under his breath.

He pressed pause on his bop and stuffed his earbuds into his apron pocket. He took in a deep breath and put on his best Hi-how-can-I-help-you smile as he headed toward the front counter.

And even before getting past the doorway, a wave of ineffable tension struck him over the head like a falling cake tray. The tension cake was frosted with stress and topped off with eloquent piped roses of intimidation.

This dreary dude looked nothing like any of the patrons Roman’s ever observed before. Heck, he’d be more fitting on a metal album cover than at a pastel-hued bakery like this.

The patron was pretty well-sculpted physically, as if constructed out of the finest of fondants. He wore a slim, satiny leather jacket fit with zippers along the sleeve cuffs. He had a distressed purple shirt under the jacket and two chain necklaces strung along his neck, one with a blank black-rimmed dog-tag.

Ripped black jeans and knee-length spiked combat boots with skulls on them both covered his lower half. Black eyeliner and opaque black eyeshadow made the gothic guest’s green eyes even more striking. Dark circular earrings clung onto his ears. A messy tuft of black hair flowed down to his jawline.

Now, all of that raised the intimidation factor up to the extreme (and the gayness factor too, in Roman’s case. What? This grim guy looked fine). All this humdrum human needed now was a shiny black motorbike, and you’d never want to encounter him on a bad day.

But, all the fear factor of this guy with gruesome guise had a few caveats.

The somber shopper was barely 5’1”, and both his hunched-over posture and his leaning against the wall in the far left corner of the store didn’t make him look any taller.

Also, the menacing man appeared uneasy, glancing around the store constantly as if he thought a cake would leap out and attack him. So, the desolate dude’s anxiety himself settled Roman’s nerves a little bit.

But that didn’t stop his heart from pounding in his chest.

He shook his head and headed out the kitchen door, trying to gather all the courage inside him to go greet the customer. He stood behind the display counter and collected his words.

“Hello, welcome to Sanders Bake Shop!” Roman trilled clearly, despite his quick breaths.

The paranoid patron peered up at Roman, his eyes widening in a snap. He seemed more terrified of Roman than Roman was of him (which, c’mon. Roman was only a few inches taller than him, certainly not as physically fit as him, Roman’s name on his nametag was written in scribbly calligraphy with a star next to it, and Ro wore a bright white sweater under his bright red apron for Pete’s sake. He had nothing to be afraid of with Roman.) Nevertheless, the bleak boy appeared petrified. He frantically set his leaning leg down onto the ground and shamefully waved his hand.

“H… Hi,” the customer responded with a low, gravelly voice. It sounded like the crunching of tires over a rough patch in the road. It made Roman’s heart rate rise quicker.

“How-- how may I help you today?” Roman stumbled over his greeting, which he hoped with all his heart that Logan didn’t hear.

“Uh, yeah,” the cast-down customer shuffled over to the display, stuffing his hands into his jean pockets. “Still lookin’, thanks.”

Despite that answer, the morbid man still appeared to be stalking for something specific in the glass display. But Roman was just happy he could get a break, even if only for a minute.

“Alright, take your time,” Roman lopsidedly smiled, twirling his hidden earbud wire around his fingers.

A moment coated with apprehension like chocolate mousse over a fresh cake passed, where the spooked searcher uneasily peered through the display case, scanning through it with his finger, and where Roman tried his best to keep the overly cheery smile on his face. The creepy client’s curious expression made him look… strangely adorable.

“Do..” the ill-at-ease individual peered up at Roman innocently through his eyelashes and bushy hair, only raising Roman’s gay panic more, “do you guys have off-menu items here?”

“Huh? Oh,” Roman leapt out of his trance of admiring the fretting fellow. “Well, we have some more treats that aren’t in the display case, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

“Hm. Why’s that?” The worried wight asked, seemingly to get the conversation off-track on purpose.

Roman shrugged. “That stuff doesn’t sell well normally. People don’t buy it, we don’t display it.”

“Huh,” the stressed soul mused.

“Is there anything, in particular, you were looking for?” Roman tilted his head.

“Uhm..” the perturbed patron looked down. “do you have..” his voice trailed off.

“What was that?”

“strawb..”

Roman leaned over toward him. “Still can’t hear you.”

“S-Strawberry shortcake?” The dude asked, his voice dripping with shame.

And, just like that, all the tension in the room left. This figure of fear and intimidation. Ordering. A strawberry shortcake. The, unarguably, cutest dessert. That the bakery. Could possibly. Offer. A dessert more fit for a small child than for this foreboding fella.

It was precious.

“Strawberry shortcake?” Roman responded, making sure he wasn’t hallucinating. Making sure he wasn’t imagining the charming client being even more adorable. His face sparked with a smile, and he tried his best to keep himself from squealing like the toddlers that saw Roman’s cake creations.

The lovable lad nodded, holding the back of his neck with his hand.

“Yeah, we’ve got that,” Roman responded, still trying to keep himself from awwing loud enough to shake the earth.

And at that response, the fetching fella’s face irradiated with the most effervescent excitement Roman had ever seen. He nodded his head rapidly, a smile coating his pointed lips like a layer of buttercream frosting between two deliciously stacked red velvet cakes.

Roman, trying to stop himself from dying of adorableness right then and there, turned his head toward the doorway of the kitchen. “One strawberry shortcake!” he shouted at Logan, who peered up from his recipe book and gave a quick nod of his head and raised up two fingers.

(The amount of non-verbal communication Logan and Roman had together was incredible. These two could have a whole two hours of conversation without once moving their mouths. Who am I kidding, they probably already have.)

“Alright. We’ve got two in the back.”

The patron’s smile grew massively before he disgracefully let it fade from his lips. He sprawled a scowl back on the sharp lineaments of his cheeks and lowered his head toward the ground. He stuffed his hands into his pockets as his pupils glanced up at Roman through his eyelashes. “Uh, yeah.” He shrugged. “I’ll take one, I guess.”

“Okay shortcake~” Roman playfully teased.

“Ugh.” the dear covered his face with his hands, cowering away from the flirty remark. This dude really is adorable, Roman silently squealed.

“Bring one out!” Roman yelled to Logan.

Logan peered through the doorway and rolled his eyes, headed toward the back freezer.

“So..” Roman leaned on the chilly marble countertop.

“So,” the slender specter raised an eyebrow, his head raising back up.

“Got any plans later this week?” Roman asked, his heart thumping against his ribs, just barely letting his lungs get enough air to attempt to court this devilishly handsome dude.

“Not really,” he shrugged. “Why’d you ask?”

“Oh, no reason,” Roman smirked.

The lovely lad narrowed his eyes and tilted his head to the side. “Oookay.” His eyes then opened back to normal, tapping his fingers on his thighs. “Say, y’know, if I come here again,” he swayed back and forth on his heels and toes, “what’d you recommend for me to get?”

“Oh! Great question,” Roman smiled. “I’d say the mini s’mores pies myself. Not the most stunning, to be quite honest, but they certainly make up for it in chewiness and sweetness!” Roman passionately raised a finger into the air, earning a chuckle from his one and only listener. “We only sell them in pairs or more though, but I’m sure you could find someone else to share them with,” Roman winked.

“Oh my gosh,” the menacing man put his hand over his face once more. (Roman would have to rethink his flirting if the guy got this flustered every time he made a cute remark. It was fun to tease him though, Roman would admit.) “Yeah, I’m sure I could,” he considered as he lowered his hand, “maybe he’d like to share ‘em with me after his shift?” he smirked.

“Maybe he would,” Roman leaned with his elbows on the countertop, staring dreamily at the pleasing patron.

Roman then felt a sharp jab in his ribs, and he looked over to see that Logan was looming over him like an ominous spirit and had elbowed him to get his attention. “One eight-inch strawberry shortcake,” he calmly stated, holding a cardboard cake box in his other hand with the Sanders Bake Shop logo printed across the lid.

“Ah, right,” Roman stood back up, scratching the back of his neck with his hand and grabbing the box. “Uh, thank you.”

“Remember, flirting comes after work,” Logan flatly reminded Roman, leading to Roman audibly fake-cough to cover up his flustered expression with his hand. The customer chuckled.

Logan wandered back into the kitchen, arms crossed.

“So, uh, your total’s gonna be thirty-two ninety-five,” Roman displayed the total on the register. “Cash or credit?”

“Credit. I’ll save my cash for something else,” the patron gave Roman an equivocal smile.

“Alright, just swipe on the side,” Roman added. “And hey, what’s this ‘something else’ you’re talking about? I thought you said you were free this week.” Roman arched his back upward, sassily holding his hands on his hips.

“Oh, it just kinda came up now,” he furrowed his brows, “Might be going somewhere with a dude I don’t really know. And wow,” he emphasized the interjection immensely, “I think his name’s Roman too.”

“Man, what I’d give to be this guy.”

The charming client chuckled, swiping his card. “Yep.”

“Just sign here and you’ll be good to go, shortstack.”

“Hey, glass houses, you’re not that tall either,” the pretty patron noted as he grabbed the attached pen and signed his name on the screen.

Roman gasped noisily, holding a hand over his heart.

The sweetie, who Roman now saw his signature on the computer and decoded from the sharp lettering that his name was Virgil Heath, blew a quick chuckle out his nose.

“Hey wait, you’re Virgil?” Roman glanced up from the screen, his expression becoming curious.

“Yep. Always have been.”

“My last name’s Dante, like that Dante guy from The Inferno,” Roman looked at Virgil and smiled longingly.

“Hm. And Virgil was a Roman poet too. Cool,” Virgil shrugged.

“Fate must’ve brought us together,” Roman cooed.

“Gosh, you really are like a Disney prince,” he shook his head. “All ya need is a flock of woodland creatures to brush your hair for you every morning.”

“Bold of you to assume that I don’t already have birds sing me awake and deer prepare a bubble bath for me every morning at sunrise,” Roman teased.

The sweetheart burst out with laughter, making Roman’s heart flutter. “Well, then. Nice to meet ya, mister Dante.”

“Pleasure to meet you too, mister Heath,” Roman nodded with a grin spread across his lips, sliding the cardboard cake box over to Virgil and tearing a receipt from the printer.

“Just Virge is fine, I’m not that professional,” Virgil mentioned.

“Then honey-buns is just fine for me,” Roman playfully winked and let the tip of his tongue slide out of his mouth, causing Virgil to shield his eyes once more.

Roman quickly uncapped a marker and scribbled a message onto the receipt. “Okay, you are good to… go,” Roman smiled, placing the receipt face-up onto the box.

Virgil uncovered his eyes. “Alrighty,” he grabbed onto the box, lifted it from the table, and started to tread out toward the door.

“Bye-bye dear Virgil!” Roman cheerfully cried out.

“Seeya,” Virgil turned his head. “And Ro?”

Roman kept his eyes glued onto him.

“Thanks for the cake,” he smiled.

“You’re welcome,” Roman nodded, sweetly smiling at Virgil.

Virgil switched the box to one hand, the receipt still balanced on the top of the box, and opened the door. The bell dinged once more, and once Virgil left, it chimed its own sweet farewell.

Roman watched Virgil intently with his heart racing as Virgil headed back toward his car, the receipt still on the box, thankfully not flying or blowing off.

Once the dude got away from the windows, Roman let out a massive sigh and leaned against the wall. That was a lot.

But as Roman’s heart sank below the crashing tides of adoration, he hoped Virgil would see what he wrote on the receipt before tossing it.. and that Virge would hopefully have some way to respond to it.

-

A few minutes later, Roman was in the kitchen, piping extravagant curls and swirls onto a cake while the contagiously catchy “Hello” by The Cat Empire rippled through his earbuds, when the bakery’s bright red mounted phone rang through the room.

“Logan? Can you get that please?” Roman tilted his head toward the supply closet, where Logan strolled through the door and toward the phone.

“It’s ‘could I get that,’ and yes, I shall.”

Roman let out an irritated exhale. Who was Logan if he wasn’t always annoyingly correcting your grammar like an English teacher?

“Besides, I wouldn’t want you to get frosting all over the phone,” Logan declared. He strolled to the phone and lifted it from its holder and up to his ear. “Sanders Bake Shop. I’m Logan, how may I help you?”

Roman watched Logan’s face become mildly surprised upon hearing the caller. “Oh, you want to talk to Roman? Sure. I’ll put him on.”

Logan looked at Roman and tilted his head toward the phone.

Roman picked up a towel and wiped off his frosting-covered hands while he wandered over. He threw the towel onto the counter as he answered the phone and paused his music. “Hello?”

“Oh, hey, you answered,” a familiar gravelly voice responded. It was Virgil. (Huh.. using the bakery’s phone number to talk to Roman.. smart.)

Roman’s lips curled into a smirk as his fingers started twirling the phone wire. “My my my, why, isn't this the Virgil who I just met today?”

“Sure is. And I saw your note.”

Roman’s heart fluttered in his chest. He had signed the back of the receipt with a calligraphy message:

Meet me @ Prince park 4:30 this Friday? <3

Yes, he did just ask this random dude on a date, and yes, that does make him even more of a Disney prince.

“It sounds great. Frozen yogurt after?”

Roman nodded excitedly, his face igniting with a smile not unlike that of an excited child’s, which received a perplexed observing Logan in response. “Yes! Yes, perfect.”

“Nice. I’m sure it’ll be a real slice.” Roman could hear Virgil smirking over the phone.

Roman smiled at the Hercules reference. “Absolutely! I’ll see you then.”

“Bye.”

Roman hung the phone back onto the wall.

“Let me guess. Virgil?”

“How do you know his name?” Roman pursed his lips.

“You’re not exactly quiet when you’re head-over-heels obsessed with someone,” Logan noted.

“Uh, rude! This is not an,” Roman mocked with air-quotes, “‘obsession,’ this is the start of a lifelong romance!” Roman offendedly corrected him.

“Sure it is,” Logan monotonically responded as he averted his gaze up to the ceiling. He then looked back at Roman. “Anyway, I thought I’d inform you that your shift’s over now.”

“Wait, really?” Roman glanced at the clock, seeing that it was indeed 4 PM, the end of his shift. “Oh! It is!”

“Yes,” Logan adjusted his glasses. “Glad you got that door then, huh?”

“I sure am.” Roman chuckled. “Huh.. Logan, the sealer of fate, and the ultimate wingman.”

Logan raised his eyebrows. “Apparently.”

“Well, I guess I’ll get going now,” Roman untied his apron and pulled it off his neck, strolling over to the apron hangers. He pulled his phone and car keys out of his apron pocket and hung his apron on the rack. He stuffed his phone into his denim jeans pocket.

“Goodbye Logan!”

“Farewell,” Logan waved.

“Thanks for getting me a date,” Roman smiled.

“Don’t mention it,” Logan lowered his hand. “See you tomorrow.”

“Yep!” Roman called out, parading backwards out of the kitchen doorway and turning around to cheerfully promenade out of the store, turning on “Livin’ On A Prayer” from his drive home playlist and letting the contagiously poppy beats fill his ears.

Wow. He just got a date from a day at work, and yet he’s still just listening to his tunes and making his usual commute home.

Yep, that’s Roman Dante for you.

-

[kaspbrak-tozier-reddie]

"Have you ever been to a birthday party for children/And one of the children won't stop screaming/...There's other people, you selfish asshole!" From Bo Burnham's song, for that quote thing? Also this is for Reddie. Thanks :)

Song: Art is Dead by Bo Burnham

Warnings: slight mentions of homophobia, other than that, just pure fluff.

Send quote/prompt and I’ll write a fic

——————————————————————

With Richie being a hotshot comedian now, his manager had decided it was now time to do a meet and greet. Richie not only now performs his own standup comedy shows but is on Saturday Night Live, does movies and tv shows. 

Having a rocky 2.5 years in the comedy industry, Richie’s new beginning seems promising, even Eddie is thrilled. After all, Eddie is the one that forced Richie to fire his writer and old manager due to homophobic jokes, not being able to come out thus shoving him back into the closest; and had jokes that were far too dry and tasteless that even Richie didn’t laugh. They made Stan’s jokes seem laughable now! So with the help of his boyfriend of 2 years, he and Eddie found a new manager.

“Excited for your debut M&G?” Scotty, Richie’s new manager, asks.

“Oh, heck yes!” Richie exclaims as he sets up his table. “Give me a sec.” Richie spots his boyfriend carrying a large bag that he immediately recognises as Eddie’s first aid bag. “Eds, we don’t need that babe.”

“Uh, yes, yes we do. I can’t get sick and neither can you!” Eddie replies placing the bag behind Richie’s chair. “Do you know how many germs are spread around here?”

“I -” Richie starts.

Richie can feel granddad’s wedding ring shift in his pocket, causing Richie to remember why he even has it in the first place. He carries it with him day in day out, ever since the couple’s 1st anniversary. Knowing that any day could be when he chooses to marry the man he’s been in love with since he was 10. 

“It’s a rhetorical question. Okay, long lines in a confide space, you will. Get. Sick.”

Eddie isn’t wrong, it takes only a couple people with a cold or flu to then infect hundreds more. Keeping a load up of hand-sanitizer on hand is important, he places it where it’s hidden but within Richie’s reach. The entire bag contains multiple bottles of water and fruits; as well as all those important tissues and general first aid kit that has been overly stocked with more bandages, band-aids, gauzes and alcohol wipes than it needs. 

But Richie isn’t nervous for the one on one meet and greet, it’s the actual panel where he’s speaking and Eddie refused to come up on the stage with him. He doesn’t know what he’s meant to do, sure he’s done interviews but it was one person, not hundreds. 

“Richie? You ready?” Scotty asks.

“Yeah.”

“Good, ‘cause it’s showtime.” Eddie stands off to the side and gives him the thumbs up and Richie looks everywhere but the stampede of fans coming in. All the other celebrities at the function are relaxed and getting ready but Richie is ready to puke instead of greeting the fans.

Maybe this was all a mistake, Richie thinks to himself. But he loves his fans, if it wasn’t for Eddie he would be on the list of most hated people around the world. Besides, Derry should be on that said list of places to not visit on account on its outdated teachings. 

His negative thoughts come to a halt as his first fan arrives at his station. It’s awkward, he has no idea what to say or do but nonetheless, he’s still sweet, awkward and charming. 

*

After 15 fans come to his table, he’s finally gotten the hang of it and that would also be 15 uses of the hand sanitizer thanks to his boyfriend’s need for hygiene and germaphobia. 

What Richie didn’t expect was his fans to be of a variety of ages, he’s seen kids as young as 12 come by with their parents in tow. Parents dragging their kids with them, the rare elderly citizens come by and not to mention a few whole families; we’re talking kids, parents and grandparents. Richie is blown away.

He sees a break and quickly looks to Eddie, who sits quietly behind the table out of sight. “Holy shit! This is insane!” Richie whispers, his mouth covered by his hands to not be seen as someone who talks to himself.

Eddie looks up from his book, “That’s great. Also, I was thinking that I come on stage with you.”

“That’s great,” Richie looks back briefly. “Oop, more customers.”

Richie can hear Eddie’s giggle and then it stops and a page flips. He accidentally bumps the ring in his pocket, causing him to jolt. Could this be it?

****

A couple of hours later, Richie finally sets up for the panel, the most important event of the day, according to his manager. “Are you sure Eds, I don’t want to seem like I’m forcing you,” Richie says as he gets hooked up to the sound system.

“I want to, the number of fans asking about me… I couldn’t. Also, don’t call me Eds,” Eddie responds and Richie signals for another mic and third chair is brought out to the stage.

There’s another panic attack bubbling in Richie’s throat and blood, he feels like he’s being smothered, he can feel his pulse around his body and hear his heartbeat ringing in his ears. He instinctively turns to look out at the crowd from behind the curtain and sure enough, there are, at least, 200 people. Every ticket for the panel was sold out, he remembers his manager said. Richie and Eddie are signalled out to the stage and manages to get to the chair without an issue and finally looks to the crowd. 

You can do this, he thinks to himself, I’ve got Eddie with me.

“So Richie, in your Netflix Special, you had stated that you are now writing your own material. Why the change?” The host asks; Richie had never really publically stated why the change but he guesses it’s time everyone knew.

“My old manager thought my jokes were too crass and wouldn’t appeal to anyone. He also claimed that self-deprecating or my gay sex jokes wouldn’t appeal. So he kept me in the closest and gave me jokes that I would never have approved.” Richie doesn’t hold back unleashing all his anger out. “I, of course, sued him and won.”

Cheers of approval echoes through and Richie’s tenseness starts to die down, relaxing into the crowd.

“Right, let’s go into the fan questions.”

Richie looks to Eddie and smiles coyly at him, Eddie returns the favour and gently squeezes Richie’s thigh for support. The two looks back at the crowd and straight up the middle are about 15 people ready to ask questions. “Why did it take you so long to leave that manager?” A fan asks.

“I couldn’t break the contract,” Richie explains. “When we were 2 years fresh out of college I had signed with this man and Eddie had gone into risk analysis. I did one gig and immediately wanted to drop him.”

Richie is about to continue when Eddie cuts him off, bringing the mic to his mouth.

“He knew that I delt with contracts and risks so he asked me to look at it. To put it simply, if he left and signed with someone else, he would’ve been in grave debt where it would’ve been damaging and become a whole legal issue.” 

*

Richie smiles at his boyfriend thinking back to the day that he took the godforsaken contract to the young risk analyst. As Eddie looked over the whole contract, he notices the whole fine print, something he knew that Richie would obviously skim over like every other person. Stan would obviously have 6 fits if he caught Richie doing that but alas Eddie isn’t Stan.

The manager had several writers on hand and Eddie looked every single one of them up and sure enough, each writer had a bad review. This man was going to stop Richie’s career before it even began but after 2 years Richie could opt out without any legal penalties. 

Eddie had explained everything to Richie but that still meant that Richie would have to do whatever they said to not face court. Richie, of course, was heartbroken but that was the way that it had to go. But in the comfort of Eddie’s apartment, he kissed him and Eddie kissed him back until he had pushed Richie away.

“Richie, you’re seeing someone. I can’t -” Eddie had said.

“I don’t care, I like you. Eds, I’m gay and I’m seeing someone against my will,” Richie tries to reason.

“That - that doesn’t matter.”

I broke his heart but he knew that Eddie was right. Natalie was lovely, no matter the circumstance he couldn’t hurt her.

****

“Eddie with Richie being a comedian, have you met any other comedians?” A fan asks Richie’s boyfriend.

“I have actually. Bo Burnham and John Mulaney,” Eddie replies. “In fact, Bo Burnham has a very relatable song called Art is Dead. It’s the epitome of Richie.”

“Oh, how so?” Richie presses. 

Sure he’s met Bo Burnham but he hasn’t really listened to his stand up shows, all he knows is that he makes funny songs. Eddie is often raving about a few of Bo’s songs but that’s about it, Eddie’s never gotten him to actually listen to them.

“Okay, so young Richie was an asshat and that’s just putting it lightly. Anyway, there’s this line, ‘Have you ever been to a birthday party for children, and one of the children won’t stop screaming?’” The crowd laughs, “I can guarantee you that Richie often did this, for all 6 of us and if we were lucky, also his own party, making it all 7.“ 

Richie just starts to laugh knowing full well that it was him as a child, he mouths ‘true’ to the audience, causing more and more laughter before Eddie’s voice starts to echo back through the speakers.

“Richie always craved the attention, as mentioned in the song, but one line that I use often is, ‘There’s other people, you selfish asshole!’“ Richie tries to contain his laughter but he burst and tears start to stream down his face as he laughs the hardest he has in years, from a joke that wasn’t his own. 

Nobody can break him but somehow his boyfriend explaining how Bo Burnham’s song is relatable just makes him burst into tears from laughter. Even Stan’s dry and sarcastic wit wasn’t enough to make him cry, in laughter, when they were kids or even now as adults. It’s physically impossible.

“I hope a lot of you got that on camera, me crying; nobody has been able to do that ever!” Richie exclaims as he wipes away the tears from under his eyes. Now it’s Eddie’s turn to laugh vigorously. 

But at that moment, Richie knows, he knows that the man right beside him, laughing in absolute joy, is the man he wants to spend the rest of his life with. Normally he’d forget about his granddad’s ring during the day until he got home and has taken his pants off. But now as the thought continues to creep into his brain, the ring feels like it’s burning a hole in his pocket, wanting to escape.

*

“How long have you two been friends for before you got together?” Another fan asks 

“About 3 decades of friendship and 2 years as boyfriends,” Eddie confirms.

“It would’ve been 4 maybe 5 years of being boyfriends if I didn’t have that shitty manager.” In Richie’s peripheral vision, he can see Eddie’s shocked face. “Don’t act surprised, I flirted with you through all of middle school to college.” Eddie laughs as does the crowd.

Richie knows it’s too soon but maybe this is the way it is meant to happen, how he is meant to ask Eddie to marry him. He’d be bloody stupid to not do it when he has known that Eddie is the only one for him ever since Bowers’ cousin in the arcade back when he was 14. 

The ring in his pocket becomes Richie’s main focus, not the fans; if he takes it out… 

“Rich? You good?” Eddie asks.

“Huh? Oh uh, yeah. Yeah, I’m fine,” Richie stammers. “Next question.”

“You said that you suffer from anxiety, how do you manage it when you’re on stage?” A young girl asks, she’s probably no more than 16, she fidgets with her fingernails as she speaks and it becomes that she’s nervous.

“Don’t be nervous hun, it’s okay, I am too,” Richie states and the crowd ‘awe’s’ causing Richie to chuckle. “I know if I’m having an anxiety attack and it’s become part of my everyday life so I find it’s best to act as if it’s not there. It’s partially because I’m too lazy to get therapy.”

That’s the truth, any time he gets an anxiety attack he knows he’s not dying especially since Eddie has explained it to him. It’s annoying but therapy is just too bothersome, he has to try to fit it in with his busy schedule and then he’ll probably have to get anti-anxiety pills or anti-depressants to stop the anxiety attacks.

“But, if Eddie is by my side then all my anxiety tends to go away,” Richie finishes and quickly digs into his pocket, fiddling with the ring in his pocket. It’s hidden away from the way he’s sitting which is the important thing.

But he’s unsure of what to do, does he do it now in front of hundreds? Or does he do it later at a restaurant? If he does it now and Eddie says ‘no’ then that’s going to leave an awkward 25 minutes left of the panel. 

He looks back at Eddie. 

“If you ever get married, would you become Richie Kaspbrak or Eddie Tozier or Richie and Eddie Kaspbrak-Tozier?” Richie’s eyes almost pop out of his head, the pain is unbearable, he needs to break, he wants to break but it’s an impulsive move to propose without thinking it through. 

He hasn’t thought of how he would do it.

Hasn’t thought of what he’d say.

“I uh,” Eddie faulters, “100% Eddie Tozier, I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Richie chokes on his saliva and bursts into a coughing fit, what the fuck?

“You for real, Eds?” Richie questions, he takes one look at the audience, who are anticipating on what happens next, then back to Eddie. 

“If you’re taking it as a proposal, I don’t thi-” Eddie’s cut off by Richie holding a white gold plated ring. “Are you -” The look in Richie’s eyes is enough for Eddie to take the ring and place it right on his finger. Sure enough, it is, surprisingly a perfect fit.

“Ask him!” Some dude yells from the crowd, a chorus erupts and causes Richie to fall from his chair and onto one knee.

“I know this isn’t a restaurant and is entirely impulsive but it wouldn’t be me if it wasn’t. I love you, have since we were 10, instead of it being hypothetical, will you truly become Edward Tozier? Marry me?”  

“Yes,” Eddie replies pulling Richie up from the floor, the crowd erupts as he kisses Richie’s cheek before sending him back to his own seat. 

“Next question?” Richie says.

[girls-scenarios]

List 1 promt 16 & 17 with LOONA (and maybe a reader?) Thank you💕

Loona / Halloween Prompts

16. “I told you guys this Ouija Board wasn’t a good idea.” + 17. After deciding to conduct a test of courage, a group of friends ends up lost in the woods with an unknown animal hunting them.

Admin Kiwi

A/N: I used their real names in this (for the most part). Also this is long as heck but I hope you all enjoy!

Warnings: This is another horror-themed prompt. No happy ending here. If you don’t like horror, then I’d suggest you skip past this one.

A full moon hung above the woods, casting shadows down against the girls’ faces as they looked up at the mouth of the trees. It was past midnight now, deep into the night, and the woods had never been so dark. Even the flashlights seemed to falter at the sight.

“So are we going to go in?” Sooyoung turned, her long hair flowing down her shoulders as she looked out at her twelve friends, flashlight sweeping over them, looking all too excited with her grin. Biting your lip, you took another look at the woods. This hadn’t seemed so bad when she’d first suggested it, but now….

“Do we have to?” Jiwoo squeaked, holding her flashlight close and Jungeun’s arm even closer. She looked pale in the moonlight, eyes wide as they darted from the woods to Sooyoung and then back again.

“Don’t chicken out on me now. Come on, we all agreed on this!”

“I agree, I think it’ll be fun to see who runs out first,” Hyejoo said, stepping forward to join Sooyoung at the front of the group. After a moment’s hesitation, Chaewon joined her.

With a sigh, Haseul shoved her hands into her pockets and stepped forward as well. “Why not, what’s the worst that could happen?”

“I can think of a few things,” Jinsoul said, but the girls ignored her. Yeojin, sporting a grin, grabbed Vivi’s arm and skipped up to join the other girls.

“Don’t back out just because you’re scared the youngest will out last all of you.”

“Oh, you’re on,” Hyunjin said, crossing her arms despite Heejin’s squeak of protest behind her. “You have the goods, right (Y/N)?” At her question, you nodded and held up the box holding the Ouija board.

“Yeah, but I’m not happy about it.”

“Let’s get a move on, then,” Sooyoung said, ignoring you and clapping her hands. “We don’t want to be out here all night.” With that, she turned and headed into the woods, not an ounce of fear in her. As you followed the group in, you looked up at the full moon one last time. Well, there were thirteen of you there. With that many people, you would all be safe. Right?

The inside of the woods was dense and dark. You’d walked around the woods during the day, and even then, it was spooky. But at night, there was an even heavier vibe. The trees blocked out most of the light coming from the moon, and everyone had to train their flashlights at the path as to not trip over any vines or rocks. Every few steps, something would brush up against your arm, but you tried to ignore it, hoping that it was just branches from trees or bushes. Jiwoo, up ahead of you a few paces, squeaked every few steps, prompting laughter from Yeojin. Somehow, the youngest didn’t seem at all scared. Next to you, Yerim took your arm, clutching at you tightly.

“Where’s the clearing you were talking about? ‘Cause all I see right now is trees,” Jungeun complained, kicking at a rock and sending it skittering into the bushes, much to Jiwoo’s dismay.

“It should be right up ahead,” Sooyoung said, squinting into the dark. “It feels further away since we’re moving so slow.”

“Oh, there!” Yeojin pointed, and everyone turned to look. Through the trees, there was a small sliver of light. An opening.

“Sweet, we’re here!” Picking up her pace, Sooyoung all but ran towards the clearing, pushing a few branches out of the way. Not wanting to be left behind, you followed with the rest of the girls, trying not to get scratches on your arms as you pushed away the branches and followed her through.

Sure enough, there was a clearing. It wasn’t huge, but it was big enough to fit thirteen people. The ground was slightly overgrown, and stumps of trees could be seen under the tall grass and vines. But for some reason, no trees had grown back, leaving the clearing open to the light of the moon.

“You know, some people say this place was used by cults or witches back in the day,” Hyunjin said, a grin on her face as she sat down on one of the stumps.

Whimpering, Heejin shoved her shoulder. “Shut up! You’re just saying that to scare us!”

“No, I heard the rumors too! Why else would there be a random clearing out here in the middle of the woods?” Sooyoung sat down across from Hyunjin and spread out, much too comfortable in the middle of the woods. “It’s got to be cult stuff.”

“We’re here for the cult stuff!” Yeojin called, loudly enough to make the girls around her jump. Groaning, Yerim slapped her hand over the other girl’s mouth.

“Shut up!”

“Whatever, I don’t believe in that stuff,” Haseul said, shaking her head. “Let’s just get this over with.” She sat down on one of the stumps, wrinkling her nose in disgust, and the rest of the girls followed her lead, sitting on stumps or rocks or whatever else the could find. The moon seemed to be directly overhead now, and you looked up at it for a moment, feeling something sink in your stomach. That was weird….

“(Y/N), pass me the Ouija board.” Yeojin held her hands out, her loud voice shaking you from your thoughts. With a sigh, you handed it over, happy to be rid of it.

“I’m not sure how I feel about this….”

“Not you too, (Y/N)!” Sooyoung pulled her hair back, grinning once again. “It’s Halloween, you have to do stuff like this!”

“But playing with an Ouija board in cult woods?” Jinsoul gulped as she looked around. “Isn’t that a little too much?”

“There’s nothing in these woods,” Jungeun said, exasperated. “Let’s just get this over with. I’m pretty sure I have at least five bugs crawling on me at this very moment and I’m ready to go home.” At her words, Jiwoo whimpered and brushed at her legs frantically, face scrunched up in a way that would be cute if you weren’t too preoccupied thinking about the moon to notice it. Even Hyunjin looked a little squeamish at the mention of bugs, her face turning white as she brushed at her legs.

“You ladies are wimps,” Yeojin declared, slamming her hands down onto the prepared board. “Now are we going to do this or not?”

“There’s no way all of us can do it. The board isn’t big enough,” Vivi pointed out.

“Then half of us will do it. I know I’m going to do it and so will Sooyoung and Hyunjin. Who else?”

After a moment’s hesitation, with everyone looking at each other, Hyejoo stood up and dragged Chaewon along with her. “We’ll do it.”

“Me too,” Jungeun said, making Jiwoo squeak in protest. Still, she managed to wiggle out of the other girl’s grasp to join the girls at the board. Whimpering, Jiwoo grabbed Jinsoul’s arm instead.

“I’ll do it too, I guess,” Vivi said with a sigh, getting up. “That’s enough people, right?”

“(Y/N), are you sure you don’t want to play?”

“I’m good, Yeojin.” You shook your head hard enough to startle Yerim at your side. “Just watching is enough for me.”

“Alright, then let’s get started!”

Chaewon jumped, looking up with wide eyes. “Wait, do you know how to play this?”

“I do,” Sooyoung said, placing her hands on the planchette. “I’ll be the questioner. Come on, gather in close and try to make sure your knees are touching each other in a circle.”

“Okay….”

“Now.” She paused for dramatic effect, making Yeojin groan.

“Hurry up!”

“Okay, okay! Now, let’s move it in a circle to warm it up. Blah blah blah, I’m only allowing good spirits to communicate with us. Hello to whatever is out here in these cult woods. Can you say hello?” Some of the girls hissed in opposition to her choice of words, but she shushed them, making them all be quiet. For a moment, nothing happened. Yeojin opened her mouth, probably about to say something snarky, when the planchette finally moved. She snapped her mouth shut, watching with everyone else as it slowly crept across the board.

Yes.

“Well,” the youngest said slowly. “I guess that’s kind of an answer.”

“It actually moved,” hissed Jinsoul, her eyes wide, making Jiwoo whimper again and bury her head in the other girl’s shoulder.

“I hate this!”

“Who are you?” Sooyoung asked, grinning again. You shivered, leaning into Yerim. For a moment, nothing happened again. But the girls waited patiently, until the planchette began to move.

“Is that an A?”

“Shh, Yeojin, shut up!”

Adam.

“Who the hell is Adam?” Hyunjin asked, glancing around. “That’s such a boring name.”

“Don’t be insulting,” Haseul said, nudging the girl’s back with her foot. Heejin was clutching onto her arm, eyes glued to the board and face white. “I’m pretty sure that’s against the rules.”

Shifting, Vivi looked at Sooyoung. “What else should we ask it?”

“Umm. How about this. How long have you been here?”

“Ooh, that’s good and spooky!”

“Yeojin, I swear.”

“Hey, shut up, the thing is moving again!” Hyejoo’s voice made everyone look back at the board. Sure enough, the planchette was moving again, faster this time.

600 years.

“I don’t like that one bit!” Yerim shook her head. “No ghost is that old!”

“You never know,” Sooyoung said, but Haseul shook her head.

“Seriously, I’m not sure we should be-.”

Yeojin interrupted her, not listening. “Ask it another question!”

“Okay. Why are you here?” There was no hesitation this time.

Hungry.

Everyone froze. Slowly, Vivi turned back to look at Haseul. “Uh. That doesn’t seem good.”

“I told you guys this Ouija board wasn’t a good idea!” Jinsoul threw up her free hand in frustration. “We should go, come on!”

Voice tight, Hyejoo called out. “Hey, it’s moving on its own again.”

Devour, devour, devour, 600 years, devour, devoured them, devour you. Hunt.

The moon was directly overhead now, bathing the clearing in pale moonlight as all thirteen of you sat frozen in terror. Everything was silent. Not even wind rustled through the trees. You felt as if you couldn’t breathe, eyes stuck to the board, heart pounding in your chest.

Sooyoung sucked in a deep breath. “I’ve never seen it do that before.”

“Say goodbye!” Jungeun was pale now too, turning to hiss at Sooyoung. You could see her shivering. “Say goodbye now, we need to go!”

“Right!” Sooyoung pulled on the planchette, and then her eyes went wide. “It won’t move.”

“Don’t fuck around,” Hyejoo said, shoving the piece. It moved, finally, flying towards goodbye. As soon as the piece hovered over “goodbye” a gust of wind ripped through the clearing, tearing the board from the hands. Screaming, the girls jumped up, the planchette still clutched in Hyejoo’s hand.

“D-did we close it?” Yeojin asked, looking scared for the first time. As if to answer her, a low, guttural growl echoed through the woods, accompanied by the snapping of branches. You turned to look at Yerim beside you, your mouth dry, body stuck in place.

“Run!” Haseul screamed, just as another growl came from the forest, and finally, your legs moved. You scattered with the other girls, leaving the board there as all thirteen of you tumbled into the woods, moving as fast as your legs could carry you.

-

You weren’t sure when it happened. It was only when you stopped to catch your breath, leaning up against a tree, that you noticed it was only you and Yerim, clutching at your hand. Your eyes widened and you stood up straight, frantically looking around.

“Where did the other girls go?”

“I don’t know.” Yerim was crying, tears screaming down her face as she coughed, gasping through her sobs. “T-they were all right here, and then…. We must have taken a wrong turn or something.”

Terror gripped your chest as you squeezed her hand, shaking from head to toe. The moon was gone and the woods were black, so dark your flashlight didn’t even help. Every tree looked the same, and the two of you weren’t even on a path anymore. For the last few minutes, the two of you had been tripping over bushes and rocks. Your stomach sunk as you had to accept the truth. The two of you were lost in the woods, separated from the rest of the group. You tried to rack your brain for solutions, but you couldn’t think. Your brain felt… fuzzy. Faint.

A growl shook the trees and you heard a shrill scream that sent chills down your back. You didn’t want to think of who that might be, yanking on Yerim’s arm to get her to run again. “Come on, we can’t stay here!” You didn’t know what was out there, in those woods. You only knew one thing: you couldn’t let it catch you.

-

“Vivi!” Haseul stood frozen in place, her flashlight shining up at the trees. She didn’t know when she’d lost the girls, or when she and Vivi had gotten separated from the group. But not even a minute ago, she’d heard a snap and a thump behind her, the light from the other girl’s flashlight going awry. And when she’d turned around…. “Vivi, oh my god!”

The oldest girl’s body hung suspended from the trees, vines wrapped around her neck. Her eyes were wide, body limp, blood dripping down from a mark on her shoulder where something had torn at her clothes. Letting out a scream, Haseul scrambled forward, with every intent to climb the tree and try to get Vivi out, but the crunching of leaves stopped her in her tracks. She wanted to run, wanted to cry, wanted to scream again.

But she couldn’t.

Against her own will, her body turned around. Standing there in the light of her flashlight was a creature she’d never seen. It looked like an animal, horns protruding from its head, but stood on its hind legs, red eyes peering at her. As she stared, unable to move, its red eyes dug into her head and it bared its teeth, slobber dripping from its mouth. It stalked closer, hoofed feet stomping against the ground, and she couldn’t pull herself from its gaze, even as its human-like hand reached up and wrapped around her neck.

Her breath cut off as it lifted her off the ground, long nails digging into the back of her neck. As spots of black clouded her vision, she saw it open its mouth. Then her world went black.

-

“That scream! That was Haseul!” Hyunjin stopped running, despite Heejin and Yeojin pulling at her from either side. Up ahead, Hyejoo and Chaewon stopped as well, gasping for breath. “Was she calling for Vivi?”

“Do you think…?” Yeojin couldn’t even bring herself to finish the sentence, her eyes wide and her hand gripping Hyunjin’s tight enough to make it go numb.

“Should we go after her?” Hyejoo asked, shining her flashlight in the direction of the scream. Chaewon, beside her, let out another sob and crouched down onto the ground.

“We should have never done this! We’re so lost, we’re never going to get out of here!”

“Don’t say that!” Heejin was clearly panicked as she stomped her feet. “There’s no way we can go help her, we’re no match for whatever thing is out there, we’re just people, we can’t-.”

“We have to at least try! We can’t just let our friends die,” Hyunjin snapped, yanking at Heejin’s hand. “What if-.” A growl cut her off, followed by a howl. Wind rushed through the narrow space and she felt goosebumps well up on the back of her neck. All thoughts of saving her friends left her mind. Somehow, she knew she couldn’t do it. “Run,” she said instead, rushing forward, but Yeojin went limp in her hand, and Hyejoo screamed.

Slowly, Hyunjin turned her head. A figure loomed in the dark, holding Yeojin up by the back of her jacket. Her eyes were wide and glazed over, her body limp, and blood was spilling over from her shoulder, seeping through her coat and running down her fingertips. She wanted to run, wanted to rip her fingers away from Yeojin’s limp hand, wanted to scream, but the figure had red eyes that dug into the back of her skull and nailed her to the ground.

Heejin dropped her hand, screaming, and ran into the woods. Well, Hyunjin thought, at least she might escape. Struggling to move, she watched as the figure emerged from the shadows and into the light of Hyejoo’s flashlight. It towered over her, some sort of half-animal and half-human creature, slobber dripping from its face as it’s growl shook the ground she stood on. As the creature dumped Yeojin to the ground, Hyunjin summoned all of her willpower to scoop the girl up into her arms, breaking free from the creatures spell.

Her feet felt sluggish and she felt as if she might faint as the creature roared, shaking her to her bones, but she still turned and ran, carrying Yeojin in her arms. Hyejoo and Chaewon had disappeared, leaving her running in the dark, alone, but she didn’t care. She ran and ran, the creature thundering behind her, until her legs wouldn’t carry her anymore and she collapsed, covering Yeojin’s body with her own in a small clearing where the moon peeked through the trees.

There was still some sort of recognition in Yeojin’s eyes as Hyunjin held her, unable to fight the creature as it dug its teeth into her neck. But it faded with the pale moonlight as Hyunjin’s body slumped into the dirt.

-

“Where are we, Sooyoung?” Jungeun’s voice was strangled as she held a sobbing Jiwoo in her arms, looking over at Sooyoung and Jinsoul, who was grasping the other girl’s arm as she swung her flashlight around.

“I-I don’t know. I thought we were headed for the entrance, but we must have taken a turn somewhere. I don’t recognize any of this.”

Jinsoul had been crying silently while they ran, but now she let out a sob and let her head fall against Sooyoung’s shoulder. “I keep hearing screams….”

“This is all because you insisted on coming out here,” Jungeun said, gritting her teeth, and Sooyoung glared back at her.

“You say like you didn’t totally agree with me! Don’t blame this on me!”

“Take a look at our situation right now, Sooyoung! We’ve been hearing screams for a while now, how many of our friends do you think are dead right now?”

“Don’t!” Jiwoo sobbed louder. “Don’t say that!”

“Let’s just keep walking,” Sooyoung said, clenching her jaw and focusing her flashlight on the trail ahead. “At least we’re on a trail.” She stepped forward and, reluctantly, Jungeun followed behind with Jinsoul, a still-crying Jiwoo in her arms.

They had only taken a few steps when Sooyoung stopped, letting out a strange gurgle. The three other girls ran into her from behind, and Jungeun opened her mouth to snap at her, asking why she stopped, but the words caught in her throat.

There, in the light of Sooyoung’s flashlight, lay three bodies.

Heejin’s eyes were still wide open, her arms and legs sprawled out on the ground. A foot away from her were Chaewon and Hyejoo. Chaewon was also staring up at the sky, tear tracks still running down her face, but her arms were still wrapped around Hyejoo, who lay on top of her, only recognizable by her black hair and jacket. Blood puddled on the ground underneath them, and hoof prints littered the mud on the path.

Jinsoul screamed, then slumped to the ground, fainting at the sight. Quickly, Jungeun hid Jiwoo’s face in her shoulder, not letting her see the scene as she tried to process it, stomach turning at the sight. Sooyoung stood frozen, staring at the bodies with her mouth open, struggling to breathe.

“They’re….”

“Sooyoung! Sooyoung, we have to run, grab Jinsoul and-.”

A roar shook the ground just as something slammed into Sooyoung, sending her flying with a crack. Jungeun watched in horror as Sooyoung fell to the ground with a choked groan, a boulder landing on top of her slender body. And then a creature was standing in front of her and Jungeun shrieked, tumbling backwards at the sight.

“What-.” Jiwoo look up, then froze, unable to even cry as the creature stepped over Jinsoul and snarled, red eyes digging into her own. Jungeun grabbed Jiwoo with every intent to run, but something sharp stabbed into her shoulder and she fell to the ground, paralyzed. She watched as the creature picked Jiwoo up, watched as Jiwoo screamed and kicked her legs, grabbing at its hand on her neck, watched as she struggled. She wanted to get up, wanted to run, wanted to try and fight the beast to help Jiwoo, but she couldn’t do anything but watch, waiting for her own turn as her vision fogged over.

-

Your legs could barely carry you anymore as you ran, lungs burning and heart pounding. You had no idea how long you’d been running, only that you couldn’t stop, no matter how many screams you heard. Your face and throat burned from the tears and your hand was numb from how hard Yerim was gripping it, but you kept running with her beside you, pushing your way through trees and overgrown bushes. The woods only seemed to be getting thicker, harder to walk through, when it happened.

Yerim’s gasped as her foot hit a branch, sending both of you tumbling forward through a cluster of branches and onto… a green field? You blinked up at the moon, gasping for air as you tried to process what was going on. The two of you were sat on a field a few feet away from the entry trail to the woods, overlooking the the city.

“We’re out,” Yerim gasped, “we’re finally out, we got out. Now we have to get help.” She jumped to her feet, pulling you up with her, and you stumbled, trying to catch up as she ran down the hill.

At the bottom of the hill, on the trail back towards the parking lot and the city, there was a figure, and you let out a sigh of relief. “Good, someone is there, we can tell them and then-.” The figure moved so fast, you barely caught it. You stopped in your tracks as Yerim let out a gurgle behind you, your heart stopping. No, it couldn’t be, the two of you had gotten out of the woods, this wasn’t-.

A creature with red eyes loomed in front of you, horns blocking out the moon as it boor its sharp teeth and growled. Then, somehow, it spoke, saying something you couldn’t understand, leaning in close with a deep, gravelly voice as if two rocks were rubbing together in its throat, sending a shiver down your spine. You stepped back only to trip over a limp Yerim, sending you sprawling onto the ground. It loomed over you, drool splattering onto your face as it opened its mouth and spoke again, its red eyes leaving you helpless to escape your fate as it chanted, getting close and closer with every word.

“Devour, devour, devour, devour….”

[cannotgiveafuck]

Shazam Week Prompt 2

I'm a day late and expect to do again, but I'm not quitting!

Heres prompt 2: Holidays

-

Halloween had always been one of Billy's favorite holidays. 

Before he was Captain Marvel, he would spend the day at the Fawcett Park Market, getting his face painted in preparation for trick-or-treating. The amount of candy he snagged would last him weeks, even far into December if he controlled himself.

Before he managed to permanently escape from his Uncle Ben, Billy enjoyed Halloween for the chance it gave him to be far away from the man. At least for the night. When he returned, he'd always have to hide a majority of his stash in his room, lest his uncle throw his entire loot into the garbage. 

Ever since becoming the Champion of Magic, however, Billy found no time for Halloween shenanigans anymore. He had a responsibility to uphold, civilians to watch over, monitor duty to attend. 

Billy Batson wasn't a kid anymore. 

"What do you mean, you're not going out? You're thirteen years old! Go throw eggs and TP at some old tosser's house, get sick from too much candy, and all of that!"

Billy didn't know where to begin, everything about what he'd said was just...wrong. "John, I'm twelve. And I'm on patrol tonight. Do you know how bad it would be if the League found out I… egged someone's house? I'd be toast!"

But the thought of throwing rotten eggs at his Uncle Ebenezer's house brought on a joy he was ashamed to acknowledge. 

On the other side of the mirror, Constantine took a long, contemplative drag of his cigarette. "Do you realize how mad what you just said was? You're twelve and you've got patrol for what? Fawcett? The entire bloody world?"

The familiar heat of indignation, of embarrassment, flared at his cheeks. "So what?"

When he sighed, smoke obscured part of his features, but his blue eyes - clear and crisp and so much deeper than others gave credit for - pinned Billy to his spot. It was an accusing stare. A look that challenged Billy, doubted him, was filled with more condescension than John's words could imitate. It was a look plenty of adults gave plenty of kids when they did something particularly exhausting. 

Billy hated that look.

He also knew that John hated the League, that Billy was even part of the League. Against all opinions of him, John was actually quite soft for children, became rather protective and reckless for them. Billy knew John thought of him as a child, heck, the magician looked out for him well enough, and Billy appreciated it, really he did. But…

"Know much about the spirit world and Hallow's Eve?" John asked, thankfully diverting the subject. At Billy's head shake, he continued. "The veil between alive, dead, and undead becomes thin, nearly open. All the planes of existence sync up. Get the most supernatural activity around that time. And I know the lot of em throw one killer of a ball."

Immediately, Billy had perked up, always interested in learning more about the magical community. But at the mention of a party filled with paranormal creatures?

Billy knew the glee on his face was evident as John chuckled.

"Unless, of course," he added, tone teasing, "you're too busy patrolling."

Ah, crap.

[[MORE]]

-x-

"Are you sure this will work?" Billy asked as he looked at John's handiwork. It was impressive and amazing, and Billy never got tired of seeing magic in action.

"C'mon now, lad, trust me here," he said with a face that did not at all look like John Constantine.

"It's not that I don't trust you, exactly…" 

They were currently in New York City, strolling down an alleyway that John was very certain lead into their destination. As they got ready earlier in the day, he had explained that the ball was a public affair, a yearly celebration that warranted total truce once entered. No murderous or underhanded conflict permitted on the property. The event was hosted by an affluent influence within the magical or supernatural community, though it took the effort of some key abilities to pull it off, to ensure the location was safe and secure. 

However, just because there was no guest list didn't mean anyone could waltz on in. Unless they were a plus one, a regular human or extraterrestrial could not enter the compound. Afterall, there was still so much that neither knew or understood about the world, about Earth and her inhabitants and patrons from all walks of existence. Only those immersed in the community and its secrets could be trusted to attend. 

Though, Billy was unsure how solid a definition of trust that they used. 

And then there were certain individuals or groups on a blacklist. No matter if they had attended before or were invited by someone going - once someone was banned, it took a great deal of influence to be welcomed back.

That is, unless someone was clever and crafty enough at magical tricks to sneak in.

Someone like the infamous and definitely blacklisted John Constantine.

"Think of it like any other Halloween party, yeah? Some folks go as themselves and that's fine, but boring, honestly, and others wear costumes. Nobody's gonna rip off someone's mask, right?" John smiled with far too many sharp teeth, with a face that was not his own. "That's how glamour is around these ilk."

It made sense, sure. But still, Billy couldn't help but feel...weird. Don't get him wrong, it was exciting getting to join in on this adventure, but looking into the mirror and instead of seeing himself, or even Captain Marvel, he saw a strange creature. It was creepy. 

Once John applied the glamour dust, Billy used his own magic to shape what he wanted to appear as - an aesthetic look inspired by his own Feyr. 

With Tawny's help, Billy became a tiger themed witch boy. Pointed ears and a gliding tail, sharp fangs and claws, wild hair and catlike eyes, a magically fitted black suit with striped markings that followed onto his skin, and eerie blood splatter across his hands and face - Billy so wanted to wear this for other Halloween parties.

(He doesn't actually believe he'd ever get the chance, but well, one could dream.)

Though, he admitted, he was sort of jealous of John's glamour. A full transformation into a stylishly decorated demon - large horns, full black eyes, fancy clothing and a grand colorful coat. He looked really, really cool.

"I could've gone as Marvel, you know. Being an adult seems easier for this," Billy commented. It would have also been safer. 

Great adventure aside, Billy wasn't stupid enough to ignore the dangers he was getting into. He may be magical inclined, but Marvel was the Champion of Magic. If things went south, he would prefer to have the Gods on his side. And great costume aside, something about attending a party as a kid, albeit a never aging one, seemed like it was asking for trouble. What if the glamour wasn't enough? What if his magic wasn't enough? What if someone saw right through them and realized Billy really was just a kid? If he got blacklisted from the coolest supernatural party of the year before he even turned eighteen, he would never live it down.

"You telling me that you want the entire place in chaos? That's what the Champion of the Gods would do. Half the party would swarm you for autographs and most likely try to pull you into rooms you do not want to go, and the other half would fall over themselves trying to leave the damn place. Some may even risk breaking the truce to get a piece of you."

"I thought that's what the glamour was for."

"A pretty costume can't hide the fact that he's the Champion of goddamn Magic. His energy alone would blind the lot like a beacon of divine fucking light." John stopped them before they reached a dead end wall practically oozing magical illusion. They kept a good enough distance, though he still lowered his voice. "I know you run with the big superhero league, but his reputation goes farther than you've been flying around in his cape. Near everyone knows about the Ancient Champions and their patron Gods, and half of those know about the Wizard and his lofty seat at the center of all Earthly magic. He's a bloody legend down here, so no shouting for your giant fuckall lightning, alright? You don't need to leave here with a massive target on your forehead."

Well, then. This was news to him.

"It'd be nice if you told me this before, you know, instead of when we are literally walking into the lions den!" Knowing that there could be powerfully magical beings who would want to hurt him… that seemed like important information.

"That's why I told you to stay as a kid, kid," John flicked at his forehead, infuriating and condescending all at once. Which wasn't an uncommon thing, unfortunately.

The response was immediate, Tawny's low rumble, warning John Constantine away.

"Yeah, yeah. I get it," he lead them forward and to Billy is felt like walking through a curtain to see what was covered on the other side. "Now, stay within eyesight of me, and don't accept drinks you haven't seen the bartender make. And even then, keep to what you know," John said. 

Billy knew what to do, thank you very much. He's had talks with his neighbor Candy, and he's heard older teens whisper at foster homes, and him and Freddy have watched teenage party movies. He knows what to do and unlike John, he doesn't go pissing off every magical being he comes across.

He'll be fine!

-x-

He was not fine.

Billy was very much not fine at all.

He felt sick and nauseous and all he wanted to do was throw up, but he couldn't and that made it worse. Thanks to John's quick thinking, he managed to get them out before Billy's glamour wore off. Though, with how fast John was walking, he was practically dragging Billy along, making the sidewalk blur and the street lights flare painfully. 

"That's what you get for accepting a drink from the eternal witch boy," John said, voice teasing. It was salt in Billy's wounds along with everything else right now.

Words seemed to escape him for the moment, so he gagged and spat on the ground at John's feet to let him know how he felt about that.

"Didn't take you for a delinquent," John continued. He sounded more amused and Billy hated it. "Not that I'm judging, mind you. I had my first taste of alcohol when I was ten."

"Didn't know," Billy muffled out. He'd tried beer before, him and Freddy had snuck out with a can each one time. They'd stolen it from one of the foster dad as he lay passed out on the couch. It was the most disgusting thing Billy had ever tasted.

"Yeah, can't blame you there. Mead tastes deceptively sweet. Either way, it was from Klarion and that's where you went wrong."

Okay, he really did not need a lecture right now. It was Halloween and he nearly blew their cover and he may have become an ally to Klarion and they almost got found out by Zatanna and all Billy wanted to do was sleep forever.

Still incapable of words, because talking required thinking and that was not going to happen - Billy groaned.

"No, no sleep yet. Gonna need some water and greasy food first, or you'll be feeling even more like shit come morning. Good thing I know a place and they won't ask questions." 

At the mere thought of food, Billy felt his stomach turn and finally threw up. Surprisingly, it made him feel better. 

"Hmm. Good thing you don't have monitor duty tomorrow, you're sleeping in. And no patrol, either. Consider it an extended holiday."

Halloween had never been this eventful before, at least at a personal level, but it all honesty, Billy didn't feel an ounce of regret. This was probably his favorite year yet.

Vomiting in the middle of the street excluded.

[serpienten]

Divine Intervention (II/VI)

Chapter Title: Three Time’s a Charm

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Could things possibly get any worse than a horrifyingly embarrassing meet-dumb with a handsome, flustering, and flirtatious stranger? Well – it probably will.

Last Chapter: In a sleepy haze, you almost steal someone’s car. Instead of being mad at you, he buys you coffee.

This Chapter: While working as a checkout girl, you’ve seen a lot of things. But you’ve yet to see a customer twice in one day. Or three times. Or... you get the gist.

Prompt: You’re the cute cashier at 7/11 and I keep going to buy one thing at a time as an excuse to talk to you.

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: Part two for my series with @kentuckybarnes for @chillingbucky and @revengingbarnes ‘s fic wars! The prompt I had is listed above. I hope this is alright! As always, feedback, reblogs, likes, etc. are very very much appreciated.

Divine Intervention - Masterlist

Two weeks had passed since you almost drove off in the car of one of earth’s mightiest heroes, and where you previously hadn’t paid much attention to either of them and had managed to live your days without seeing their faces plastered all over social media and what not, it seemed that you couldn’t escape them now. When you opened Twitter, almost every second tweet was about the Avengers or at least used a reference to them. You saw heaps of pictures on Instagram and neither on Pinterest or Tumblr were you safe from them. Well, from one of them especially. It didn’t exactly bother you. You had nothing against the Avengers, they seemed like nice people and of course, they’d saved the world and probably your ass more than once or twice, but by seeing Bucky Barnes’ face, you were constantly reminded of the embarrassment that had resulted from your sleepy mistake.

He was everywhere. Everywhere.

While he was absolutely gorgeous and muscley and overall just so. nice. to look at, he stressed you the heck out. He looked at you while getting you that coffee and you got flustered. You saw a picture of him looking into the camera and you blushed. And not only weren’t you safe from him in the social media space, but he also invaded your thoughts. His slate blue, one of a kind eyes, the smile and husky laugh he’d gifted you with a bunch of times, the way his shirt and jacket had stretched over his broad shoulders and the sculpted muscles of his chest, the slight stubble covering the sharp line of his jaw and his smell. Sandalwood, leather, cologne and just a hint of smoke that would normally have bothered you but on him... It fit. To Bucky, it fit perfectly. You hadn’t realized it like this while you were with him since you were tired out of your mind, but when you’d woken up the next day, it all came crashing down on you like a tsunami.

You desperately wished to turn back time and re-do your first meeting with Bucky. Partly because you wanted to embarrass yourself less, and partly to enjoy the time you had with that man more. Because as it was looking at the moment, you weren’t going to meet him anytime soon if ever at all. God, why hadn’t you asked for his number?

“C’mon Y/N, look alive.”

Tilting your head to the side, you looked at your co-worker, Alex. She was right behind you, handling the second cash desk, sliding products over the scanner nimbly and swiftly, checking out customer after customer, while you were waiting for an old lady to dig out her debit card. You grimaced at her and Alex grinned back at you, before looking back towards her customer.

When you turned back around as well, you were met with the lady’s debit card expectantly extended in your direction. Taking it quickly, you muttered out a thank you. While the woman packed her stuff and left, you got to the next customer. You could feel the people in the queue getting a little irritated by the wait, so you hurriedly greeted the next in line and reached for the three products on the counter. After swiping all of them over the scanner, you looked up and opened your mouth to announce the price.

Then, your breath stalled.

There he was. Bucky Barnes. The Winter Soldier. An Avenger. In a 7/11. Right in freaking front of you.

“Hey,” he said, giving you a lopsided grin and lifted his hand to wave a little.

“Hi,” you breathed out. 

He was wearing the baseball cap again. It suited him, but at the same time, it covered a lot of his face that you would really like to see. You allowed your eyes to roam over his form. All in all, he didn’t look very different from the last time you saw him, and that was just fine by you. 

“So, how much is it?”

“Hm?” Your eyes snapped back up to his and you looked at him wide-eyed, before realizing that you were in the middle of “checking out” a customer and had a line of people that were starting to switch over to Alex because of how long you were taking.

“Crap,” you swore, “sorry.”

Bucky let out a little, hoarse laugh and shook his head. “It’s fine, doll.”

You let him know the price and he took out a black credit card to pay. The look of the card alone made you feel strange about seeing it in a 7/11 like the one you worked in.

“Well,” he said, grabbing the cans of root beer, “it’s really... really nice to see you again.”

“You too.” You smiled at him, fiddling around with your fingers as you looked at him. He wore a soft smile that almost made your knees weak. The embarrassment you’d felt the past two weeks while thinking about him and the car incident disappeared immediately as soon as your eyes met. All you could think about was how good it felt to have him in front of you. It felt like being near a close friend. Comfortable. Familiar. Relaxed.

A chuckle stole its way onto his lips and you were hoping for him to say something else, but just when he was about to open his mouth, someone behind him cleared his throat.

You were met with the glare of a very, very angry man, a hand stemmed in his hips and his foot audibly tapping below the counter.

Bucky threw a glance over his shoulder and then looked back at you with an apology shining in his eyes. “I’ll leave ya to it, doll.”

You nodded at him, waving slightly as he turned and left. However, not without shooting you another smile. Already, not even two seconds later, you were yearning for him to return.

Two hours later, the lunchtime storm was over, and you could finally take a deep breath again. Alex and you were sitting in your little space between the cash registers, slouched in your seats.

“So. Tell me. Who was the guy you were making heart eyes at?” Alex asked, a cheeky, teasing undertone to her voice. 

Bucky. You could feel your cheeks heat again, coloring in a rosy shade. Damn it. Damn Bucky. You tried to scoff and brush her comment off by brushing your hair back over your shoulder nonchalantly. “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. I wasn’t making heart eyes at any guy.” You made a show of looking down at your nails before your brows furrowed. “Also, you were sitting with your back to me. How did you even...” you trailed off, biting your tongue. You’d almost said too much. Maybe you already had.

Alex laughed and shook her head, her shoulder length, brown curls flying into her face. Lifting her hands, she brushed the strands out of her face. “Oh, please. You were staring him down and he held up the entire line because of it. I noticed that even with my back turned to you. And you know why? Because you gave me a whole lotta work. At least he was nice to look at when I turned around to reprimand you.”

“Why didn’t you? Reprimand me, I mean?” You cocked an eyebrow at Alex.

“Because he was nice to look at. Really nice,” she said, shrugging. “I understood.”

Breathing in deeply, you chuckled lightly and rolled your eyes. “You’re awful.”

“Oh, come on. I’ve been your friend since what, four years? The guys you’ve gone out with since I’ve known you have sucked. Sucked, Y/N. And this one’s delicious. And he’s into you too.”

You scoffed at that. “I’m not gonna go out with him. Nothing’s gonna happen. And he’s not into me. Nothing is going to happen. Zip. Nada.”

She raised an eyebrow at you, grinning. “You sound disappointed.”

“Alex-”

“Hey.”

You almost hit your head on the shelf next to the cash register when you whipped around in your chair. Damn it. Damn Bucky.

“Hi.” You pushed out a breath.

He grinned. “Déjà-vu?”

Your lips pulled wider into a grin that mirrored his. ��Did you forget something?”

Bucky nodded, pointing at the bags of chips laying on the counter. “Night out with the guys. Can’t forget the snacks.”

Looking at the three bags, a crease formed between your brows. “How many guys are we talking? Because I’m not sure that’s enough.”

“Do you want me to buy more?”

“Do you want to eat more?”

Bucky rolled his eyes, a playfulness evident in the movement. “I’m good, dollface.”

You lifted both your hands and shrugged. “If you say so.”

He chuckled. You swiped the bags and told him the price. Again, he pulled out the black card and paid.

“Uh...” you said, “It was nice to see you. Again.”

“Yeah, yeah it was. Again.” The bags crackled as he picked them up and paused. He opened his mouth and closed it again. “Y-” he started, cutting himself off. “Yeah. I’ll see ya, doll.”

You nodded as you watched him turn around again. Just like the first time, more than anything you wanted to call him back and keep talking to him. And you almost did, ready to open your mouth and call out. But you didn’t. Because when Bucky was hardly five feet away from you, Alex behind you scoffed. “Yeah. You’re so not into each other. Doll. Dollface. Sweetiepie. Honeycak-”

“Alex,” you hissed, a scandalized expression on your face. Had he heard her? God, hopefully not. Please, not.

She rolled her eyes. “Whatever.” A moment passes before she speaks up again. “Whatever.”

You slumped back down into your chair and propped up your elbows on the checkout counter and rested your chin on your hands.

Not even five uneventful minutes pass before Alex nudges you roughly. “Y/N! Y/N, look.”

When you turned to look at you, she grabbed the back of your chair and twirled you around to the direction of the entrance.

You let out a surprised breath. “As if.”

You watched Bucky as he walked towards the Chips Aisle, picked up a bunch more bags and came towards the checkout counter for a third time in three hours. When he arrived in front of you, you couldn’t help but say something.

“You do seem good.”

Bucky shook his head, rolling his eyes and grinning in the process.

[gigili-jiggly]

can you list your favorite klance fics ://

(i’m not sure how to respond to your ‘ :// ‘ emoji, but i’ll take any excuse to gush about fics lol)

I have so many favorite fics, so I’ll just list some oneshots for now so that this list doesn’t become too long 

(I might post a list of more oneshots and ongoing fics if anyone is interested!)

SFW Oneshots: 

you’re lucky that’s what i like by @zenstrike

Lance rescues a hamster from certain doom.

or, Lance has Keith wrapped around his little finger and doesn’t even realize it.

This is literally the cutest and softest klance series I’ve read in a long time!! It gives me lots of feelings and feeds my need for lovestruck Keith ladfajdifjdsklf

hey, mom, i met a boy by @mothpoem

“Sweetheart,” says Lance, his hair longer, his shoulders broader, the slope of his nose uneven now where it didn’t used to be, “you don’t know the half of it.”

LISTEN. This fic owns my ass, it’s so good. It has all my favorite tropes (marriage proposals, visions of the future, love realizations, etc.) and every moment between Lance and Keith is so sweet and full of love hnnngh. 

i know what you did last summer by seventies

Saving angry, mysterious damsels in distress multiple times weren’t in the job description of being a lifeguard. It would have been slightly bearable if only everyone would stop asking Lance if he remembered what he did last summer. What really happened, anyway? AU

Pining Keith? Oblivious Lance? A little bit of Memory Loss? Heck yeah!!! This fic also made me laugh a lot, so I always reread this when I need a pick-me-up

this, our town of halloween by @tobiologist

“Yeah, well, it’s written all over both of your faces,” Lance hisses. “It’s not a big deal.”

Pidge taps her chin. “Oh, you mean Keith, the local introvert and your ex-rival, creeping out of his cave to go to a huge Halloween celebration with you and your little niece and nephew? Of course that’s not a big deal. Silly me!”

Or: Lance invites Keith to Disneyland on Halloween and glimpses an entirely new side of the boy he has a stupidly massive crush on.

Lately, I’ve been loving tropes where people go on a ‘date’, insist that it’s not a date and then finally realize it’s a date. Also, pining Lance is good shit. 

Smell as Sweet by ultimateparadox

Coffee and love, Lance thinks, are the only universal constants.

Established relationship!!! Marriage proposals!!! Becoming a family!!! Everything here is amazing!!!

Bastion by Foxcote

In a healing universe, Keith and Lance await the arrival of their daughter.

I am a sucker for klance as parents, and one scene in particular between Keith and Krolia really captured my heart

In every reality, I reach for you by @enlacinglineswrites

Stories inspired the Klance AU month prompts.

I love drabble series and this one right here has so many interesting and wonderful aus! I read it time and time again like a morning newspaper lol. 

Somewhere a Clock is Ticking by @emphasis-all-mine

This is a story about time travel, lost memories, growing up broken, ukulele lessons, peanut butter banana sandwiches, and a stuffed hippo named Patches.

This is also the story of how James Griffin saved the world, but couldn’t stop his parents from falling in love.

Literally the fic that made me warm up to James! I’ve always loved time travel stories and the characterizations in this fic is so fun and enjoyable, I hold it very close to my heart! Also, klance family aldjofiadjfdf

5 + 1 times: lance and the search for keith’s boyfriend by @starwar 

Who could it be?!

Lance tried to convince himself it wasn’t jealousy… it was just friendly concern. He had to ensure that whoever Keith was with treated him well, not that Keith needed Lance to look after him, but still, Keith deserved the world and Lance wanted to make sure whoever he was with gave that to him.

Just buddy-buddy concerns.

or alternatively; 5 + 1 times lance doesn’t realise he’s keith’s boyfriend

Oblivious Lance who doesn’t know he’s Keith’s boyfriend? Bet your ass I’m gonna read that!!

chaser of fate by freshia

Where Lance thinks everyone else is really frickin’ weird, the others spend copious amounts of time trying to get him to just remember, and Keith just wants to (re?)live his life.

(Modern Reincarnation AU where the biggest threat to face, is the looming deadlines for essays.)

One of the first klance fics I’ve read and one that I absolutely consider a classic. I love me some reincarnation au’s, and I love how this one is nice and not too angsty! 

Save the Date by @thathopelessromantic 

They had gotten married in the middle of a war, on an alien spaceship, both boasting major injuries. It was rushed and short and the team was thrust into battle almost immediately after “I do.” But afterwards, after some insistent questioning from Keith, Lance admitted to things he had let himself imagine for their wedding, were they to have had one on Earth.

Cute established and married klance celebrating their anniversary, what more can a girl want? 

Speak for the Stars by @speakswords 

All Lance has ever wanted is to prove his worth. So, maybe it’s fitting that the Black Lion picked him right when Lotor betrayed them and Shiro’s clone went rogue. Right when the team was at its lowest and closest to failing.

The desire for glory that Lance grew up with—that drove him to join the Garrison and pursue fighter class, that drove him into his one-sided rivalry with Keith, that drove him after Keith in the Sonoran Desert and into Blue’s cockpit and into space and into the war in the first place—it’s a relic of the past for him now. All he wants these days is to keep his friends alive and the Coalition afloat, and he tries his best, despite the pervasive fear that he isn’t the right person for this monumental task. Despite the growing certainty that Black picked the wrong guy.

This fear will be put to the ultimate test when the mess that ensnares the team after the clone disaster turns out to be a labyrinth more winding than any of them were prepared for. Because Lance might just be the only person equipped to lead them through this maze and into the light.

I love those tropes where peeps get stuck in their own dreams and someone has to help them snap out of it. This fic does this wonderfully with Lance and I loved Keith’s dream in here, it was so sweet

in every reality, we meet by ULTIOcean

Small one-shots about our favorite team, taken from a prompt list on tumblr for the October Writting Challenge, in which i’ll write 31 short stories, unrelated to each other, each insipred by the prompt of the day.

i adore this drabble series, each chapter is such a unique take on the prompt! 

you’ve got a hand for the taking (i’m about to take it to the moon) by seabear

“I think,” Lance says, squinting, “he’s a vampire.”

one of my comfort fics to be honest. i really really like their interactions here and the confession scene makes me very happy

where & how we’ll land by @ephemelody 

The first time Keith meets Lance is also the first time they kiss. It all goes downhill for him from there.

looking for a childhood klance fic that is so so good? this one is a classic!!!

Complete Mature/Explicit Oneshots: 

assemble by groovystars

‘there was an idea- katie and hunk know about it- called the voltron initiative. the plan was-is, god, it is- to bring together a group of remarkable people, and see if together they could become something more. to fight the battles we never could. i wasn’t sure though. just knew that katie and hunk could do it, maybe lance if he wasn’t knee-deep in cover work. but now that cap’s used to the century and keith kogane turned up from the dead, and we have a literal god on our hands… now- now i think we can do that. i think we can believe in heroes.’

aka the marvel au that’s probably already been done

As a huge Marvel fan, this is an amazing superhero au!! It has klance and shatt, as well as lotor and allura in a thor and loki dynamic! 

i like me better when i’m with you by @reader115 

His mother’s advice when the war is over? That he should ask for what he wants.

Keith joins Lance and his family on their farm, and Lance wishes for a never ending visit.

i’ve read so many post-canon fics when vld ended and this one is one of my absolute favorites. It’s because of this fic that i started associating the song with klance, haha! I love the characterizations and the overall sweetness/lovey dovey feeling the fic has and aldoifjaidfd I just love reading this over and over again

there are worse things i could do by @peachgrdn 

His chest went tight when he recalled Keith’s face. What did it have to mean? They’d never been lovers; that much was clear.

When Lance goes out to buy himself a gift for his own pleasure, it comes with a little emotional baggage. Only just as he thinks he can manage it, Keith throws himself into the mix, and Lance realizes he must come to terms with buried feelings.

honestly, i consider lyssy the queen for fluffy and feely smut lol. I love her humor in this one as well as the many feels it gives me…just aldkjodfa i love this fic a lot okay?

kiss me (like it hurts) by mottainai

Purple light streamed through his kitchen window from the neon sign across the street, getting tangled in Keith’s hair and painted on the planes of his shoulders. He held his breath, afraid to disturb the moment. Keith’s eyes were on his, too soft to be coming from a dangerous man. Lance could see himself becoming caught in the gap in his teeth, pressed into the groves of his calloused hands, inked across his ribs. It should terrify him, the kind of terror of one looking into the belly of the beast.

But it didn’t.

Or: Keith and Lance, told through arguments and resolutions

i’m such a sucker for gangster keith stuff and this fic here has one of my favorite takes on it. perfect for rereading again and again! 

lure by chaeriee 

Becoming indebted to Keith Kogane was not a part of Lance’s future plans. Falling for him, even less so.

another gangster keith fic and it has almost all of my guilty pleasures in it uwu. i love those /person A needs to pay off a debt and works for person B while unknowingly becoming the most important one to them’ storylines haha! 

 Alpha Affairs by marizousbooty

Keith and Lance take a romantic vacation to the mountains for a snowy weekend getaway.

vampire lance and werewolf keith….doing it….good stuff

Heaven in hiding by i_write_shakespeare_not_disney

Keith finds something interesting in Lance’s drawer and it leads to one of the most amazing nights of his life.

insecure lance in lingerie and keith helping him become comfortable with it? sexy. 

Beast of Burden by melancholymango

“Keith, no, we can’t go again.” Lance pleads fall on deaf ears. Keith is honed in on him now like predator to prey. He’s fighting a losing battle and they both know it. He sees it in the way Keith is raking his eyes over him, sizing him up. “We’ll be so late getting to the bar.”

“Just one more.” Keith insists, herding Lance toward the counter with a stubbornness that is innately wolf. Lance pouts, but he doesn’t have anywhere else to go but backward.

“That’s what you said last time! And the time before that!”

–

The week leading up to a supermoon, as told by the world’s best werewolf boyfriend, Lance McClain. The good, the bad, and the horny.

I read this on Halloween and I’m not even ashamed of how much I enjoyed this. This fic made me very very biased towards werewolf keith lol. 

[nofeartina]

Hi Tina. You still want to write some small ficlet-type promptfills or am I late? I`ll still tell my ideas though. So maybe it's not really small ficlet-type promptfills but I still say. Do you remember "Alphabet Aerobics"? Chapter 19... "For a brief second, he wonders if he should try making Even come like this, whether he even could. If Isak just kept it up, kept rimming him, would it be enough?" I think you understand what I want, ok? Do it for Even. He is wonderful and deserves it. Love you

Sooooooo. Apparently, this fitted the small ficlet-type format just fine because guess what I just did? :D (It’s not specifically AA-Isak and Even tho, but you can decide that for yourself haha)

Thank you for the prompt, sweet anon! I hope it’s everything you wanted. And thank you, @fille-lioncelle for looking it through and fixing my mistakes. You’re the best. ❤

Obviously, this is smutty as all heck, so it’s under the read more. Enter at your own risk. ;)

He doesn’t care that they don’t really do this that often. Doesn’t even care how his jaw is starting to hurt, how his back is achy from bending over like this.

It doesn’t matter.

Not when Even is starting to shake under him, his hole loosening around his tongue, glistening with spit. 

Isak has been going at it for a while now. What started out as a small step towards getting Even ready to fuck, has now turned into something completely different. 

It’s not like Isak’s dick isn’t hurting between his legs, pulsing achingly from the lack of attention, but he doesn’t want to put his hand around it. He’s not ready to abandon what he’s doing here, licking his way inside Even over and over again, rubbing at his rim with the pads of his fingers and the tip of his tongue until Even is swollen and overly sensitive.

Even is making these high-pitched sounds that Isak hasn’t heard him make before, his hips moving in small aborted thrusts like he can’t help himself, his breaths turned into small hitching gasps. Isak is so goddamn turned on by how Even just gives himself over to this, lets Isak set the pace and control what happens next, he almost gives in to the need to touch himself. Almost, but somehow he manages to hold back.

He wants to see how far Even is able to go with this.

He’s never done this to Even before, not like this. He’s never just continued past the point where Even is begging for him to fuck him because it’s just never been possible for him to not give Even what he’s asking for when he’s asking like that.

But for some reason, today he did -  just dug his fingers in, spread Even’s ass even more and continued. And now he’s reaping the rewards.

He’s never seen Even lose it like this. How he slowly lost strength in his arms until they gave out, how the sweat started to break out over his body until he was drenched, hair curling up on his nape, hands gripping onto the bedding under him. His back is arched, his ass constantly moving, pushing back against Isak, his dick swinging under him, and Isak can smell the precum leaking from it.

Everything is so hot. Isak keeps his eyes on the trembling, squirming muscles on Even’s back, and he wants to touch it, feel how sweaty and hot he is, but he’s loathe to give up his grip on Even. 

He alternates between long, slow, broad licks over Even’s taint and crack, tongue catching on Even’s puffy rim, and quick jabs inside, licking in and in and in until he feels like his jaw is about to cramp up. His thumbs are holding Even open, making it easier for him to lick inside, to taste the softness of Even’s walls and make him just as sensitive inside as he is outside.

He knows he’s skirting the edge of what Even can take, knows that he’s probably starting to get sore, but as long as Even lets him continue, he will. He’s enjoying himself too much to stop.

One of his thumbs slips on spit, sliding out and releasing the hard grip he has on Even, and Even keens.

“Shit,” he croaks, voice rough and low, and Isak moans at the sound.

Even’s hands grip harder onto the bedding, his back a tight string of tension, every muscle in his body hard and strained.

Fuck. He’s so gorgeous, Isak’s dick throbs with need between his thighs and he can’t help but picture just how easy it would be by now to just bury himself inside Even, with how open and wet he is with spit.

Isak wants to, Isak wants to so bad, can almost feel the warm tightness around him, just how good it would be, but seeing Even lose it like this is its own kind of reward.

“You taste so good,” he moans against Even’s hole, watching it flutter from his words, another low and rough sound punched out of Even as he reaches back and puts his big hand in Isak’s hair and pushes him against his ass.

“More, more!” he demands and Isak obliges. Of course he does.

He licks harder, buries his face in Even’s ass and sucks until Even trembles under him so hard that Isak loses his suction. He moves his face with Even’s movements, or tries to, but he’s moving so fast and hard now that it’s almost impossible.

Isak doesn’t even have to ask, it’s so obvious that Even is close.

He desperately wants Even to come like this, wants to see if he can, if Isak is able to get him to, he almost loses his breath thinking about it.

He pulls back, rubs the rim hard with his thumb to ease his aching jaw for a short while, Even crying out with the stimulation. Hearing Even makes it easy to ignore his jaw and he dives back in, licks around his thumb, keeps his tongue and finger moving faster and faster and faster until Even stops breathing, stops moaning, stops moving.

His hole grows tight around Isak’s thumb and his tongue, and Isak knows that it’s happening, speeds up even though his tongue feels like it’s about to fall off, and then Even shouts just as his dick starts shooting under him.

The smell of Even’s release hits Isak like a freight train, making him moan against Even’s hole, licking and rubbing and sucking him through his release that lasts and lasts and lasts until Even collapses under him.

Isak sits back on his haunches, wipes his chin and mouth with his hand, and it’s not until now that he notices how much he’s trembling himself.

But it doesn’t matter, nothing matters except the sight Even makes.

He’s lying on the bed, sweaty and shaky, breathing hard. His eyes are still closed, cheeks wet with tears, and he looks like Isak blew his mind completely. His legs are spread on each side of Isak and Isak has a clear sight of Even’s ass and his red and puffy hole, which looks so inviting and so used that Isak almost can’t breathe from it.

“Fuck, Even,” he moans and leans in over him, putting his thumb on Even’s hole again, but Even keens and moves away from him.

“I’m so sore, I can’t…” he says sounding apologetic, but hearing that makes Isak’s stomach explode with want and need, something deep inside of him buzzing with pride and something darker that he doesn’t want to name.

Isak moves his hand to Even’s side, shushes him, leans in and kisses Even’s shoulder with his sore lips and starts pulling himself off. 

It won’t take much, he’s so on edge already, senses full of Even; Even in his mouth, the smell of his release in his nose, the wetness of his sweat against his lips, it’s so good.

“You’re perfect, you’re so good, you drive me crazy,” Isak mutters as his hand moves between their bodies, easing the throbbing ache in his dick, his balls pulling up so tight that he has to stop talking to clench his teeth instead.

Even whimpers, but arches his back until his ass touches Isak’s dick and that’s it for Isak.

He looks down between them, watching himself paint Even’s ass and hole and lower back with ropes of white, and it does something to him, something unnamable fluttering in his stomach, making his heart beat faster with how Even just lies there and lets him.

He doesn’t stop stroking even as his dick stops pulsing. He’s so sensitive but it feels good to just keep his grip loose as he moves, as he points the tip down and rubs it over Even’s crack and over his hole, making sure his cum covers Even there.

Even doesn’t say anything, but Isak can’t help but notice the trembling tension in Even’s body.

Fuck. 

Isak finally lets go and collapses on top of Even, rubbing his forehead against the skin of his neck, lips moving as he tells Even just how much he loves him.

“Isak,” Even sighs and Isak wants to kiss him but he really doesn’t want to move.

“Yeah.”

Isak knows that he’s heavy lying here like this, but he can’t stand the thought of moving away from Even. He wants to cover Even, wants him to know that he’s there, needs to feel him against him. 

“Are you okay?” Even asks, and Isak huffs out a laugh.

“Are you?”

Even huffs out a laugh too.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m so okay.”

“Hmmm,” Isak hums and kisses Even where he can reach without moving. “Me too. So okay.”

He traces the soft skin of Even’s arm, drawing intricate patterns with his fingers, a giddiness filling him at the thought of what he just did.

He still can’t believe that Even was able to come like that. It seems it doesn’t matter how long they’re together, how many things they do, somehow they’re still able to surprise each other with things like this.

He can’t imagine anything else ever feeling this right.

So he kisses Even’s shoulder and settles against his body, getting ready not to move anywhere for a good while. He knows that eventually Even will complain that he’s too heavy, that they’re filthy, that they should shower and change the sheets, complain until Isak has no other option but to move.

But for now, he lets himself relax, enjoy the closeness and how relaxed they both are. 

Everything else can wait.

[kenshi-vakarian7]

MERweek2019 - Day 1 - Tall Tales

Event hosted by @cactuarkitty with fanfic prompts by @vorchagirl

Prompt - All relationships have those stories. You know the ones. Those famous stories. The good ones. Like the time Shepard took down the reaper on foot. Or Kaidan got involved in the Vorcha mafia. Or the time Vega got drunk and kissed Steve. What? It happened. It totally happened.

---

“The Shifty-Looking Cow Incident” aka How an unlikely friendship began.

Once again, to the surprise of absolutely no one, the Mako needed field repairs.  Commander Amy Shepard went up and down one too many steep hills out of sheer stubbornness.  Not for the first time, the tire on the front, right passenger side got loose from its axle.  If it were up to Urdnot Wrex, he'd throw a grenade at it and watch the fiery explosion with impish glee.  It would be heck of a lot more fun than playing guard duty a few yards away from the driver's side of the Mako.  Shepard guarded the other side while Garrus Vakarian worked on the repairs.

Hours ago, they landed on this green, stormy planet called Ontarom for a mission which included a fire fight (the highlight of Wrex's day so far).  After that business was done, Shepard and her team decided to explore the surrounding area for resources (practical but boring, something everyone on the team agreed on).

Well, that was what they were doing until the Mako had to be repaired.  From where he stood, Wrex could hear the turian working on the axle, and the krogan let out a low growl out of boredom.

This better be quick, Wrex grumbled in his head after ten minutes of standing around – which was more like an eternity.  Or else I'm gonna fall asleep out here. At that thought, he nearly laughed at the idea of Shepard and Garrus (especially the turian) being forced to drag a sleeping, 800-pound krogan back into the Mako with no biotics to speak of.  That would definitely make his day... well, besides the fire fight from earlier of course.

Out of boredom, Wrex reached for a compartment in his armor that hid his credit chit.  He figured it wouldn't hurt to count his money for the second time today, especially after his recent win at the Quasar machine from their last stop on the Citadel.

Except when he reached his hand into the compartment, nothing was there!

“What the-” he uttered, feeling bewildered.  He quickly doubled checked the compartment.  Sure enough, his credit chit, including his Quasar winnings, was gone!  He then checked other parts of his armor.  Maybe he placed it in another compartment of his armor, but all he found was a paperclip and a piece of lint (and he didn’t even want to know how either of them got in there).

Might be in the Mako, Wrex suddenly thought.  He began to head to the rover's driver side and opened the door as soon as he was within reach.  He then jumped in with a little more force than usual.

“Wrex, what the hell are you doing?!” Garrus yelled out in annoyance as the Mako shifted under Wrex's weight.

“Looking for my damn credit chit,” Wrex grumbled as he pulled the drivers set back to see if it fell under there.  Nope, not there either.

“I didn't see your chit when I went in there to get my tools earlier,” Garrus mentioned.

Those words made Wrex suspicious as he glared at Garrus through the passenger side window.  “And you know this how?”

“...Because I didn't see it?”

“...Or maybe you took it for yourself.”

Garrus's mandibles flared with both shock and anger over the accusation.  “What?  NO!  Why the hell would I take your damn credit chit?”

“Why wouldn't anyone?” Wrex mentioned as he stepped out of the Mako and back onto the ground.  He slammed the door behind him (causing the vehicle to sway a bit) and walked around the rover to where Garrus stood.  “There were enough credits to feed myself three lunches and four dinners at Fishdog Foodshack!  As you can imagine, that's a lot, even for a krogan.”

“I swear on the spirits, Wrex, I did not take your credit chit,” Garrus tried to reason.

“Well if it's not in my pockets, or in the Mako, or on the grass, then where is it?”

“How should I know?!” Garrus yelled, now annoyed with Wrex.  “For all you know, you might've dropped it back at the facility we fought in earlier!”

“Not possible,” Wrex said.  “I checked my pockets while we were checking for resources.”

“Why would you even bother to bring your credit chit to a mission on a mostly abandoned planet anyway?”

“And why would I leave it back on the Normandy for just anyone to take?” Wrex reasoned.

“We have lockers, you know!” Garrus pointed out.

“My best shotgun already takes up enough room as it is!”

“That's a dumb excuse!”

“Better than letting anyone mess it up while I'm not around!”

Just as Wrex said that, Garrus happened to turn his head as he noticed something.  Wrex didn't bother to look as he was still arguing with the stubborn turian.

“Wrex-”

“What?!” Wrex bellowed.

Garrus glared at him and didn't say another word, but he did lift a hand and pointed a single talon towards a particular direction.  It was clear that Garrus wanted him to see something. With a roll of his eyes and a grunt, Wrex turned his head to see whatever it was that Garrus was pointing at.

In that moment, a thresher maw could've sneaked up on Wrex and swallowed him whole, because what got his full attention mere yards away was nothing short of ridiculous.

The mammal he saw nearby was, as humans called them, a space cow (despite being more of a cross between a deer and an ant eater with two extra limbs that served as arms), which was known for having, as humans also called them, a shifty-looking face.  All this time, neither Wrex nor Garrus ever noticed the animal's presence until Garrus spotted it.  Were they really that stealthy that even a krogan couldn't pick up on it with their superior hearing?

Not only did that thought throw him off, but Wrex soon spotted a very familiar item in one of the cow's hands – his credit chit!  He really did drop it somewhere on the ground!  How it happened didn't matter.  He was about to run after the cow and get his chit back, but one thing managed to stop him before he moved...

With his own eyes, Wrex saw the cow actually take Shepard's own credit chit from one of her gear pouches!  What was even more insane was that Shepard – the Commander Shepard – didn't even notice it happening as she continued to remain on lookout!

Only then did Wrex truly understand how the cow got his chit in the first place.  That sneaky little pyjak!

Wrex turned to Garrus, who clearly saw what the krogan saw by how wide his eyes were and the way his mandibles flared and dropped.  They turned their heads again to look at the cow just as it added the newly stolen chit to the 'pile' in its other hand – with Shepard still unaware of what was going on mere inches behind her.  Then their looked at each other again with bewilderment.

A split second later, it happened.  A krogan and a turian - natural enemies for years ever since the start of the genophage – both lost it and howled with laughter at the same time.

This went on for a few seconds before Garrus tried to speak in between “Oh spirits – aahaha! – Y – did you s – aaahahaha!”

“It's so ridiculous!” Wrex managed to say.  “And – dammit, it got me, too!” he added before he howled again.  At this point, he wasn't even angry about being pick pocketed anymore, even if his chit was worth three lunches and four dinners at Fishdog Foodshack.

Then they both happened to look up – and actually made eye contact with the cow.  The mammal stared at them momentarily, its eyes wide with terror as it realized that it was caught red handed.  And then it actually began to scurry away from the group.  Not run – scurry!

They both lost it even more right there.  Garrus nearly keeled over while Wrex fell back against the Mako before he actually grabbed hold of Garrus's shoulder.  The turian didn't even try to brush his hand away – or he just didn't notice at all.

Of course, their fits of laughter caught Shepard's attention and she turned to look at them both.  She did spot the cow then as it continued to scurry away, but paid it no mind otherwise.  Neither Wrex nor Garrus every noticed the wary gaze she gave them both, especially since neither of them really got along until now.

“What's so funny over there?” Shepard asked aloud.

They both stopped laughing and became serious in an instant.  “Nothing,” they both said in unison, though Garrus cleared his throat right after.  Shepard gave them both a peculiar gaze before she shrugged her shoulders and turned her back to them.

“Should we tell her?” Wrex ended up asking with a grin, and low enough that only the turian heard him.

Garrus's mandibles flared again, this time with amusement.  “Mmm... maybe in a minute.  Just wait until the rest of the crew hears about this.”

“Ha!  They would love this story, wouldn't they?”“”

“Yeah.  ...Did we just become friends?”

Wrex snorted with amusement.  “You wish, turian.”

Garrus’s mandibles flared even more.  “Ah, probably for the best.  I’d hate to make you look like an amateur when it comes to which one of us is the best shot.”

Wrex grinned.  “If that ever happened, I’d just feed you to a thresher maw.”

Wrex wasn’t about to admit it out loud of course, but it was true... he and Garrus really did get along for the first time since they joined forces with Shepard.  Neither of them knew at that time that this moment was the beginning of what would become an lifetime friendship.

---

*And yes, Wrex did get his credit chit back, because of course he wasn’t going to let that shifty-looking cow get away with it.  That’ll be a story to be told for another day (just not for MERweek2019).

[prompt-and-circumstances]

Disrupting the Peace

Characters/Pairings: Reader Insert, Gadreel/Reader, Castiel

Prompt: Police Officer for the Gadreel’s Gigs Challenge by @kazchester-fanfiction (reposting this very old fic)

Word Count: 2,146

Warning(s): Mild Language, Awkward Fluff?

A/N: This is my very first work of fan fiction; I don’t expect much, and neither should you. Constructive criticism is welcome and appreciated!

Disrupting the Peace

This was the last straw. You couldn’t recall how many times you had called your neighbors about their absurdly loud stereos, asking for them to simply turn it down. You even lost track of how many times you had called building management. You even went so far as to call the dean, vice president, and president of the university. Campus security was next too useless as well, all they said “fill out a form” and then nothing happened. You must have filled over a dozen these past five months. You were blown off every single time. The stereo system was never lowered in volume; in fact, you were pretty sure it was turn up even more if that was even possible. The noise was ever present. It was starting to seriously affect your life, besides the effect it was already having on your sanity. Your health was suffering as you struggled to get sleep at night and now your grades were starting to suffer too. Falling asleep through lectures, forgetting to show up to study sessions, and let’s not even mention the times you spaced out during mid-terms. The whole situation was an unending nightmare and it ended. Now. It was time to take sufficient action against the dickweeds across the hall. Sitting on the edge of your bed, you calmly but coolly called the local police station. “This is Officer Novak, how may I help you today?”

“Uh, hi?” Seriously, how exactly do you greet a cop anyway? “I was wondering how to report, or even if I’m allowed to report, um, I think it’s called a disruption of the peace.” “It’s absolutely acceptable and even recommended to report a person or groups of persons that are disrupting the peace. Who is causing the disruption and how, and where are they so that I may send an officer down to deal with the situation?” “Well that seems fairly straight forward. I don’t know their names I just call them dickweed-7…” you paused as the officer on the other end of the line chuckled. “Sorry, their apartment number is D7. They’re my neighbors you see, across the hall from me. They like to blast indecipherable scream-metal music at all hours at full volume. We’re a campus apartment on the university and I can’t sleep, study, or even think at this point. I’ve asked them several times to turn it down and I’ve also exhausted the management of the building, administration of the university, and even campus security. I get blown off every single time and I’m at my wit’s end.” “Wow, that’s quite a situation you’ve got down there. I’ll send an officer down right away, what is your name please?” “Huh? M-my name? I’d like to remain anonymous if at all possible.” “Sure thing, I understand. I’ll make a note here and just be sure to tell the attending officer that as well. He’ll be stopping by your apartment as well to get a full statement. He’ll explain how to do it anonymously.” “Thank you so much Officer Novak.” “Sure thing ma’am. He’ll be there within the hour.” Sighing in relief, you hung up the phone and tidied up the apartment a bit. You wanted this whole thing to go in your favor after all, so it might be best to give off the illusion of “I’m a totally pulled together and serious college student.” You anxiously stared out your peephole hoping to catch a glimpse of your neighbor’s shocked faces when the officer shows up. However, that task got boring really fast so you opted to make a snack instead. While you were preparing a snack instead of keeping vigil (good thing you weren’t a police officer) you could hear heavy foreign footfalls on the stairs and then down the hall. Following was a heavy knock on dickweed-7’s door; you were mid-chew as you carefully rushed back to the peephole to catch your glimpse. Holy heck! The station sent a giant masquerading as a policeman. His shoulders were as broad as the door! Well if the jerks didn’t turn down for Officer Intimidating then they were not going to turn down for anything. You honestly did not know how long you stood there watching dickweed-7 and company deal with the officer, but next thing you knew he had turned around and started walking down the hall to your door! In a mad dash back to your kitchenette you quickly gulped down the rest of your snack while trying to regain your dignity. As you were leaving your little kitchen you caught a glimpse of yourself from the reflection in the microwave door. Your hair was a shambles. You groaned, no one could write comedy like this. This was real life and it hated you right now. In a panic you fussed with your hair in front of the microwave when you heard that ominously heavy knock on your door. It was now or never; so with your best Ariel impression, you dinglehoppered your hair into submission. Internally you were screaming like a pre-pubescent schoolgirl who had just met Justin Bieber before his voice broke. He wasn’t Officer Intimidating, quite the contrary! He was Officer God’s-Gift-to-Womankind! The man was a total hunk. Tall, broad-shouldered, and muscled. His face was serious and kind at the same time; his pale complexion betraying a plethora of freckles. His eyes resembled a forest in a thunderstorm, green but cloudy unless the light hit them just right. And that jaw, good lord it made you weak in the knees; he had a square jawline that you swear could cut through steel. “Sorry to bother you ma’am, but I’m going to need a complete statement from you.” “O-of course.” Pull yourself together, you can get through this. “What exactly does a statement entail. I’ve never done this before.” “No worries ma’am…” “Miss. I’m a miss, not a ma’am.” He shifted uncomfortably in the doorway, as if embarrassed he had called you ma’am. “My apologies. Miss. Basically I just need you to write down everything involving the situation. When the noise started, the steps you had previously taken to get it turned down, calling the precinct, and that an officer came by to handle the situation.” “Oh, well that doesn’t seem so bad.” You finally snapped back to reality and realized you had kept him standing in the hallway this entire time. “I’m sorry, would you like to come in? I can fill this out at the kitchen table.” “Thank you miss.” Good heavens, he actually had to duck under the doorway a bit, it was so sexy. How tall was he anyway, six-two? Six-three? You both sat at the table and he waited patiently as you wrote everything down. Every now and then you’d steal a glance at him, he looked so uncomfortable just sitting there with nothing to do. Maybe you should offer him a drink or something. “Excuse me, Officer- “ “Novak, Officer Novak.” Novak! That was the dispatching officer! Surely this wasn’t the same man. “Novak? From dispatch?” He chuckled, “oh no, I’ve never worked dispatch in my life. You probably spoke with my brother Cas. That’s more his thing, he enjoys talking with people and sending other officers to help them.” “Well he was very nice and helpful.” “I’ll let him know.” “Please do,” you smiled as you motioned towards the kitchenette, “could I get you something to drink. I really only have water or tea, you know, college budget and all.” “Thanks, tea would be great actually.” He offered up a nervous smile. Geez, he was the one with a gun, what was he so nervous about? “Is chamomile alright with you?” You caught his nod of approval as you disappeared into the kitchenette. You thought about Officer Dreamboat while you made the tea, getting so lost in thoughts of improper situations, you over poured the tea pot of boiling water right onto your hand. The dreamboat raced into the cramped kitchenette upon hearing your cry of pain, genuine concern plastered across his face. “Miss?” There was even genuine concern in his voice. His voice, you hadn’t noticed it before, but it sounded the exact way melted dark chocolate tasted, smooth. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to startle you. I just, I just forgot where my head was. It’s fine, I just need to clean up this mess is all.” Your heart nearly stopped as he ignored your proclamations of normalcy and took your injured hand in his, examining it. He was standing so close you could practically count the freckles. “You’re going to need ice.” “I can get it, thank you. Well at least we have tea now.” You chuckled nervously, desperately trying to put him at ease. Officer Novak grudgingly nodded and went back to the table while you grabbed an ice pack as you brought the tea out. He seemed slightly dejected, his shoulders drooped a bit as he drank his tea and kept a watchful eye on your injured hand as you uncomfortably continued writing your statement. “Officer Novak?” “Please call me Gadreel. Officer Novak is my brother.” “Gadreel? That’s an interesting name. I’ve never heard it before.” “Yeah, it is a bit different isn’t it? It’s an old Biblical name, from an angel.” Of course he was named after an angel, how fitting. “That’s really cool, I hope you’re proud of your name. It’s special.” That did the trick. He sat a little more upright in his chair and his eyes were alight with gratitude, flashing green as he stared at you. “So, Officer Gadreel, I told your brother I wanted to remain anonymous with this whole situation. How do I do that?” “Well, you have to sign your statement but when I make my report and put your statement into the system I leave your name out. We’ll have an unsigned copy of your statement for public records and your signed one will be in a sealed file.” You sighed in relief as you leaned back in your chair. “Thank you. I know it sounds so silly to be anonymous about a disruption of the peace. I mean it would make sense if this had been a murder case and I were the sole witness, but honestly, those guys down the hall are such jerks and if they found out I ratted them out to the police, well, I’m sure they’d get revenge in some fashion or another.” Gadreel nodded all too knowingly. “I understand.” You signed the statement and handed it to Gadreel. You had taken the entire front and back of a page. He did say to write everything down, so you obliged. He folded it up and put it in his chest pocket while also taking out a card. He handed it to you with a smile, “If they do find out and give you a hard time, call me.” Sure enough, the card had the precinct number on it as well as his number. You both walked back to the door and even reached for the handle at the same time, your hands making contact briefly before both parties pulled away. You felt like an electric current just raced through your body and you were shocked to see he was not only avoiding eye contact, but he was blushing! “Sorry, I didn’t mean to get in your way.” You blamed yourself for the mix-up, trying to ease his pain a bit. He smiled and waited for you to open the door this time. As he walked back into the hall he turned around suddenly and looked you in the eye. “About that card I gave you. I mean it. If you ever need, anything, call me. Anytime, for any reason. I will come.” Now it was your turn to blush. “Thank you Gadreel. I will.” You both stood there a few minutes, intently staring into each other’s eyes. You were so absorbed with each other, neither one of you noticed dickweed-7 had opened their door and were just standing there, watching you. Gadreel smiled nervously again and then quickly leaned in and kissed you on the cheek before turning and walking away. He glanced up once while going down the stairs to catch one last glimpse of you and then he was gone. You sighed again, this had gone much better than you had expected. And then you saw them. Dickweed-7 was standing in their doorway dumbfounded. Eyes wide and jaw dropped. You flashed them a confident smirk as you turned on your heel and shut the door. That night was the purest sleep you’ve had in a while. Silent night. The first silent night in five months and all because of Gadreel. You smiled as you went to sleep, he was no office, he was an angel. And you couldn’t wait to call him back.

Tags: (tried to remember who was a Gadreel fan)

@manawhaat @rowdyhooliganism @pawsandscrubs @room-with-a-cat @totally-not-gadreel @blondecoffeecake @thewhiterabbit42