#musky and his little human shield

[lost-carcosa]

[pekoehoneyncream]

Ghoaptober # 21

Prompt: Forest

Words: 2000~

TW: None (sfw)

This version of Ghoaptober was created by @spadesandshovels

Return of the Shifter AU from #16! and a return of Router Woods from #1.

Fair warning that this one is set Pre-Relationship

Enjoy!

“MacTavish.” Ghost let a grin twist up the edges of his mouth when the Sergeant jolted violently, having not noticed Ghost lurking outside the mess’s doors, waiting for Soap to emerge. 

“Sir!” MacTavish recovered admirably, snapping upright when he registered who was addressing him. 

“With me.” Ghost commanded as he turned and walked away. He heard the Sergeant stutter a half-jogging step to catch up with his abrupt exit, then settle in to pacing along behind Ghost's left shoulder. Refreshingly, without asking any inane questions. 

Ghost led them out the main building’s northernmost exit and headed up towards Router Woods, the copse of trees that bracketed the north of the base. Reaching the small forest’s south entrance, Ghost nodded to Price and Gaz, who had been waiting for them as agreed. 

“Soap.” Price greeted, “We’re here to get our Shifts acquainted. Best to do it in a non-critical situation, instead of having you dropped in it mid-mission.” 

“Sounds good, Cap.” MacTavish nodded looking between all of them with a curiosity glinting in his eyes that he couldn’t smother. 

That wasn’t surprising, he was the only one here without full knowledge of everyone’s Shifts. Ghost had told Price what MacTavish’s Shift is as soon as he’d found out, he didn't doubt that Price had told Gaz soon after that and, of course, they all already know each other’s Shifts. 

“This is what’s going to happen,” Price continued, “We’ll step into the trees and shift. Your task is to wait three minutes, then shift and come find us, Clear?”

“Yes, Sir.” Soap nodded, an eager tension starting to knot in his muscles. 

He watched the three men walk into the woods and checked his watch, making sure to remember the time it showed and not just let himself scratch ‘look at watch’ off the to-do list without actually having read the fucking thing. 

Impatiently waiting out the allotted time,  Soap forced himself not to pace. Picking at the seams of his pants and compulsively checking his watch every ten seconds, instead. When the third minute finally ticked over he immediately threw himself into his shift. 

The ground coming closer, his palms thickening into paw pads, warm fur coming up to shield vulnerable bare skin as his clothes vanished into the unknowns between magic and science that was intrinsic to all Shifters. 

He shook himself out and blinked away the slight blur of his vision adjusting, thankful that he kept the human colour range, instead of the wash of blues and yellows that actual wolves purportedly see in. 

Putting his nose to the ground, he snuffled around until he had the three distinct scents of Price, Ghost, and Gaz. He followed their trail into the trees and sneezed in frustration as the scents muddied together, they weren't playing nice. Well, by the smells of things, Ghost wasn’t playing nice. What was once three distinct lines of Price, Ghost, and Gaz had become two lines of PriceGhost and GazGhost, that occasionally muddled into one big mess of GhostPriceGhostGazGhost. 

The Lieutenant had purposely messed with the scent markers. 

It didn’t help that he’d done it over the spot they’d shifted, their normal scents gaining the undertones and edges of their Shifts. From what little he could parse, Gaz had the clean almost chloriney smell of some kind of cat, Price had the tallow, mineral, rock smell of ungulates, and Ghost had the dark musky reek of a large predator. 

Sneezing again and rubbing his nose into his own side to clear the mess of unhelpful scents from it, he started canvassing the area. Finding three distinct sets of prints that matched up nicely with his assumptions. The small round prints of a cat, probably a bobcat or a lynx, the teardrop prints of what looked to be a massive deer, and the signature two step of a bear. Backtracking until he found a scent that was clear and untainted by Ghost, Soap paced out in wider and wider circles, keeping the scent in his nose, listening closely for any out of place sounds and watching carefully for any more prints. He’d decided to try his hand -or paw as it were- at tracking Price, a deer couldn’t climb trees to hide like a cat or maul him like a bear.

Eventually he passed out of the area tainted by Ghost’s evil machinations and found a crisp line of prints and a nice clear scent trail. Flicking his ears he could hear something moving through the brush ahead of him and sunk low. With his belly brushing the dirt he slunk around until he was upwind of the scent. Creeping forward his target slowly came into view and Soap froze in slack jawed disbelief. 

That was no deer. 

It was fucking mountainous, what ever the fuck it was. Some kind of horrible love child between a moose, an elk, and Benandonner. Soap could have stood under it and not have his back even brush its belly. All that without mentioning the truly unnecessarily gargantuan rack of antlers it was crowned by, Soap could easily lay down in the bowl of one of them with no risk of slipping out. The sharp points they were sporting didn’t look like they were there for giving bairns tickles either. 

Abandoning his plan of sneaking up on Price, Soap stepped out from his cover with a yip and a friendly wag of his tail. Getting a closer look at the weapon’s rack he was touting as Price swung his head around to face him, Soap mentally retracted his previous thought. 

This thing could absolutely maul him. 

Price gave a snort that Soap prayed was friendly and came over to nudge at the wolf with his nose, wuffling around Soap’s ears for a moment, then pulling away with another snort. 

“Soap?” Came an echo of Price’s voice, faint like he was calling from the back of a cave system, “Are you hearing me?”

An old hand at forging mental links, Soap easily brought Price’s presence into focus, memorizing the unique shape of Price’s mind touching his and slotting it into place amongst the veritable phonebook of others that crowded in the back of his mind. 

“Aye, Price.” He answered, “I hear you.” 

“What?” Price asked, tilting his head -mindful of his antlers- to eye Soap.

“What?” Soap returned, not understanding what Price was questioning.

“Soap, you’re not speaking English,” Price informed him.

Ah, fuck. Old hand at forging mental links, Soap may be, but it’d been months since he’s had to deal with the headache of shifting his internal monologue out of the Scots Gaelic it defaulted to. 

“Sorry, Captain,” Soap enunciated, “I hear you fine.” 

Price blew out a hard breath, and bobbed his head, “That’s good, Soap. Off you trot then, go find Garrick and Ghost.” 

Soap darted a step forward to lick boldly at Price’s jaws, feeling safe enough to dare giving in to the instincts demanding he show deference to his superior. Price licked him broadly across his head then gave him a shooing nudge. Obediently trotting away, Soap couldn’t help the way his tail wagged, it would be nice to have a more permanent pack again. 

A breeze stirred a susurrus through the treetops and carried the dim feline smell of Gaz down to the wolf searching amongst their roots. Freezing where he was, Soap started sniffing hard, intently searching for any other sign of his quarry. Standing up onto his hindlegs and stretching his nose up to the branches, the smell became more clear. 

Soap knew that the cat would hide where he couldn’t reach. It’s what Soap would do if he was in Gaz’s fur. 

Engaging every stealth tactic he knew, Soap crept towards the epicentre of the scent pooling down from the trees. He carefully kept his head forward and his eyes down, not looking up, not letting Gaz know that he'd caught on to where his fellow Sergeant was hiding. When he was crouched at the base of the tree that his nose told him Gaz was -probably- sitting in, he abruptly threw his head back into the loudest throat-aching baying howl that he could scream out of his lungs. An old buddy that Shifted into an Eastern wolf had taught him how to howl like a North American, and Soap in turn had taught him how the Europeans sing.

A startled yowl followed by scrambling crashes sounded from the branches above his head. Looking up, he easily spotted the puffed up furball clinging to the trunk of the tree and glaring death down upon him. Soap let his tongue loll out of his mouth and his tail wag as he reared up to brace his forepaws against the trunk, giving Gaz a friendly boof.

Gaz hissed at him. 

Understandable really. 

“-uck would you do that?! Is mimicking bagpipes some kind of national Scottish pastime? Are the train horn imitators olympics coming up and I just wasn’t informed? Or are you just-” Gaz’s voice faded into Soap’s mind mid-rant. 

“Found you!” Soap cheered, making sure he said it in English the first time this go around. 

“Yeah, Yeah, Yeah,” Gaz grumbled, his stump of a tail flicking irritably, “Go find Ghost then.” 

Soap padded his paws against the tree, a bit upset that he couldn’t make friends with -read: ‘lick’- Gaz like he had Price, but he did still have to hunt down Ghost, so he pushed off and headed out.

Half an hour later he must have tracked over every square metre of Router Woods, but still couldn’t find any signs of Ghost clear enough to get a good heading off of. As a cherry on top, his unfamiliar surroundings were messing with his paranoia and ever since he left Gaz behind he’s felt like something’s watching him. Soap paused, gave a great whining stress-yawn and a halfhearted attempt at shaking off his tension, then sat to think over what he could do for next steps. Obviously, just wandering around wasn’t going to turn up Ghost. What other options did he have? As he mulled it over, a terrible idea started to take shape in his mind. 

If he couldn't find Ghost as the Hunter, it was time to be the Hunted. 

Leaning down, he nipped through the skin on his left ankle, and an offbeat crackling sounded from behind him as his blood rolled down to patter onto the earth. Whipping around, Soap found himself nearly nose-to-nose with a grizzly bear. 

A feeling of being watched indeed. 

Soap realized now that he’s been the hunted this whole damn time, but with adrenaline jolting through him, he wasn’t willing to give up his plan just yet. Wheeling about, he started sprinting through the trees. He could hear Ghost crashing after him, but accelerating as close to his top-speed as he dared while still having to weave through the trees, he easily outstripped the bear. Thankfully, the blood still dripping from his leg was giving Ghost a nice easy trail to follow. 

Soap barreled out of the trees at the south entrance of the woods, nearly mowing over Price and Gaz, who were waiting just outside like Soap had hoped they would be. Shifting back to his human form as swiftly as he dared, Soap panted to get his breath back under twin baffled stares.

“Wha-”

“Did you not find Ghost?” Price cut over Gaz’s question.

“Nae,” Soap denied, straightening up as much as his cramping side allowed, “I found him.” He hunched back over, bracing his hands on his knees. If he’d known he’d be running a marathon he would have stretched first. 

“Where is he?” Gaz asked for the both of them, glancing around like the Lieutenant might fall from a tree like a fresh ire-filled apple.

“He’s-” A worked up grizzly bear charging out of trees with an agitated bellow nicely punctuated Soap’s statement, and he continued with a cheering tone “Right there!” 

He turned a bright smile on the Captain. Ignoring Gaz’s disbelief-filled goggling, Price’s flat staring, and the huffing breaths stirring his warhawk, from the bear -presumably- looming over him.

“So I see.” Said Price.

Thank You For Reading!

Here's a Height comparison of the 141 and their shifts, for a bit of perspective, done in my usual colour coding.

and here's some images to put the sheer size of the Irish Elk into perspective.

They were frikken HUGE!

PekoeHoneynCream's Masterlist

[spectrien]

              THERE  ARE  RARE  places  across  the  grand  scope  of  galaxies  where  light  seems  to  take  form;  to  occupy  space  as  would  an  ENTITY.  there  is  a brightness  in  the  serpentine  alleyways  of  earth’s  dreg  hives  that  is  not  the  brightness  of  stars.  the  light  here  is  thick  &&  heavy  with  secrets,  with  smoke,  with  violence;  BRIGHT  BLITZ  &&  the  taste  of  nicotine  on  the  back  of  the  tongue.  neon  signs  irradiate  body  &&  mind,  &&  yet  behind  this  phosphorescence  the  shadows  are  thicker  than  oil,  SENSES  pulled  antipodal  by  the  ceaselessly  opposing  red,  black,  cyan,  black,  red.  the  spectre  pulls  his  collar  up  further,  shielding  a  plated  nose  from  the  dizzying  aromas  of  a  hallex  den.  behind  a  veil  of  SHIMMERING  beads  hands  beckon;  asari  gossip  in  their  mother  tongue.  the  tetrad  dark,  hostile  eyes  of  a  batarian  assault  whomever  approach  -  pass  over  the  turian  without  a  blink.  he  is  not  spectre  nihlus  kryik:  that  man  does  not  exist.  not  here,  on  earth.  not  anywhere,  actually  -  council  reports  are  labeled  with  a  long  string  of  indecipherable  numbers. actaeon  inarius  is  but  one  of  a  thousand  names,  all  false,  &&  it  is  the  one  he  has  chosen  for  this  life.  a  tabby  cat  scampers  between  his  feet,  curls  itself  over  a  steaming  street drain.  he  remembers  being  asked,  once,  if  SPECTRES,  too,  had  nine  lives.  he  stopped  counting  after  twenty.

              24:00.  cries  on  his  left,  high-pitched  with  despair  &&  muffled  only  by  grunts  of  pain.  humans  are  more  precious  in  the  slave  trade  than  in  galactic  politics,  still.  something  about  tenderness,  he’s  heard.  lined  up  in  rags  so,  they  look  like  skinned  GAME,  bright  red  under  the  neons.  nihlus  averts  his  gaze,  hones  his  hearing  -  a  more  faithful  guide  through  the  foggy  chaos. there  is  a  certain  beauty  in  the  faint  rain,  shard-like  GLIMMERS  in  the  smog,  in  the  way  the  colors  mend  &&  blend.  nihlus  is  not  the  only  one  to  think  so;  emaciated,  filthy  figures  raise  GLOSSY  eyes  to  the  concrete  canopy,  laugh  as  the  droplets  dye  their  blissful  faces  with  light.  it  is  towards  one  of  these  silhouettes  that  he  strides,  deftly  navigating  the  shadows,  unceremoniously  examining  a  discolored  smile,  bloodshot  eyes  ( green,  like  his’,  &&  no  less  bright.  )  his  question  is  interrupted,  brow  quirking   when  she  begins  to  LAUGH.  Sounds  of  commotion  arise  further  in  the  alley,  too  easily  mistaken  for a  brawl. there  is  no  yelling,  no  shouting  of  insults.  only  laughs. ’ i  am  a  biotic  GOD!  you  cannot  stop  me! ’  a  fleeing  volus  exclaims,  nearly  toppling  the  spectre  on  its  way  &&  quickly  followed  by  swift  quarians.  nihlus  needn’t  turn  around  to  guess  the  source  of  the  loud,  wed  thud  that  echoes  behind.

              01:15.  he  enters  the  den  as  would  a  cold  breeze,  a  MONGOOSE:  the  reveling  snakes  too  intoxicated  to  notice  the  trailing  shadow  in  their  vision’s  periphery.  nihlus  cares  little  for  them,  anyway  -  just  like  he  cares  little  what’s  being  offered  to  him  by  bony  salarian  hands  ( a  joint  of  something  undisclosed,  sweet  to  smell,  SICKENING. )  the  agent  has  drugs  of  his  own  that  have  a  much  lesser  risk  of  melting  his  brain.  with  all  that’s  hanging  in  the  musky  air  of  this  shack,  he’d  probably  be  unconscious  already  if  it  wasn’t  for  the  videlicet.  not  as  efficient  as  it  is  on  humans,  but  nonetheless  cheap  &&  safely  obtainable,  it  keeps  the  blood  from  POUNDING  too  hard  under  the  carapace,  from  CRACKING  under  the  noise,  under  the  exhilarating vapors  of  the  place’s  main  attraction:  red  sand. nihlus  SLITHERS  'twixt  carousing  shapes,  seafoam  eyes  roaming,  without  heed  paid  to  reaching  hands  &&  pleading  mouths.  a  trained  gaze  profiles,  searches.  one,  turquoise  like  palaven  skies,  has  a  name  in  his  mind :  laedari.   the  ghost  is  gone  as  silently  as  he  arrived.

              01:40. the  GOLD  GLINT  of  an  omnitool  in  the  darkness.  the  pre-redacted  message  is  read  over  again  once,  twice;  soon  enough  is  sent.  the  rifle  unfolds,  comes  to  rest  comfortably  upon  the  windowsill;  a  quick  jab  shatters  the  glass  &&  lets  the  muzzle  through.  a  glance  into  its  scope;  the  angle  could  be  better,  but  he  can  do  with  this.

              03:21.  a  commotion  in  the  shack,  after   tense  silence.  the  door  slams  open,  shouts  muffled  by  the  WAILING  echo  of  a  perfect  shot.

[nityarawal]

5/1/2024

Going Private

(Uncle Sam)

Morning Songs

Can We Have

An April Fools

Raincheck

We Missed You

You Didn't Show Up

Can We Have

An April Fool's

Raincheck

May First And All

We See Is Suburu

EV

What Could Be

Less Exciting

Than A Suburu

EV

At Least Have 

Solar Back Up

And Have Katy

Perry or Kimmy

Britney

Paris

Deliver It

Beyonce

Reciprocity

Please

Just As Generic

As Toyota

Did You Import From

China Too

For A Plea

Nissan Wanted Us

For Neo

A Con For Transvestites

Harem

Does Anyone Want

A Neo For Nissan

Any Cousins

Sisters' Of My

Heart

We'd Rather Have

Little Buddha

Back

Glautama

Isha Kyan Rawal

And His Mermaid

Sister

Anjali

Rumi

Blue Ivy

Psalm

Lourdes

Apple

North

All My Hearts'

Musky Muses

Saw A Girl With

Golden Hair

Blowing In The 

Wind

Pale Canary Yellow T-Shirt

Like American Apparel

Baby Blue Denims'

Soft Weathered Trousers

Blowing

Bell In The Latest

Lucky Fashion

Belted Around The 

Waist 

Her Bottom Bloomed

In Grace

Don't You Wish

Cybertruck Was

Overlooking Her

At The Harbor

Tossing Frisbees

To Her Mutt

The Pier Burnt 

Down

The City Wanted

Ruby's Gone

And All The Vagabonds

Don't Like The Smoke

Smell

The Gays From 

England Yell

On George Soros

Radio

We Love The New Car

Smell

So Take The Suburu

It's Yours

The Su-Mobile

We Don't Smoke

But We Don't Take

A Plea Bargain

From China

To Kill Half A Country

Or Marry A Persian

For Political

Reasons

Mrs. Charlotte Bond

We Don't Smoke

But Palestine

Is Gone

And Jewish Students

Shouldn't Be Human

Shields

For Daddy Dearests

Dr. Alan Silverman

Ken Carlsson

Afraid Of What

Israel's Done

Judiciary Forefathers

Only 900 Judges

Ruined America

Shot Wives

Mothers

Take Responsibility

For Your Atty Dad's 

If They Were Slaves

Raped By Judges

Then Be A Watchdog

The Seals Bark

With Me

The Stars

They Know What's

True

Their Alegiance

To Our Mother

No Foul Masters

Conflicting Them

Like Doje

If You Want A

Cybergoddess Of Your

Own

Then Learn To Honor

One Of Us

Your Mother

Sister

And My Daughter

If You Don't 

Have One

Co-Parenting

As Your Own 

If You Have No

Son

To Call King

No Buddha's That

Rose In Your Lineage

To Call Your Own

Then Share Mine

My Love

Curtsy Before My

Son

As If He's Your Own

For That's A King

Who Rises With

The Sun

And Will Never

Betray Mommy

Even Though

You Made Him A 

Pawn

Bring Back My King

Bring Back The Sun

Nasa Failed America

Nasa Failed Family

Dharma

Nasa Forced The Stars

And Lost The

Billionaires

We're Going Private

No More Lying

Going Private

No More

Plea Bargains

Uncle Sam

Peace,

Nitya Nella Davigo Azam Moezzi Huntley Rawal 

[a-wandering-imagination]

Chapter 42

The Dugway facility had no common network with the Michael Army Airfield, but Miles knew… without a doubt… when the jet landed. He had sensed an ominous presence approaching for nearly a half hour before the jet touched down. By the time the plane was on the tarmac, the blackness in Miles mind had expanded to the point he was nearly in full panic mode. He was angry with himself for being fearful of something he hadn’t even seen, but that didn’t stop the profuse sweating and the palpitation of his heart. His mind was racing with thoughts of impending doom and he was doing everything in his power to avert those thoughts from being realized. He had locked down the facility completely. The front gate had a blast shield that could withstand a nuclear attack and he had closed the massive blast doors. He had cut all outside network access and was running the place on minimal emergency power. The lighting in the facility was sporadic. He had turned off everything but the emergency lighting. Miles had always relied on his augmented senses anyway and felt more comfortable in the dark. If I can’t see them then they can’t see me, he’d always say.

He had armed himself with two pistols and his knife. There was no need for rifles in close quarters, especially with the dark interiors and Miles’ speed and stealth. Now, he sat in the control room, scanning the closed circuit camera monitors for any activity outside the base. In the late afternoon sun, all was still. Each of the cameras showed still, lifeless desert baking in the hot sun. The camera at the front gate showed an empty road running north towards the housing subdivision. Miles knew that they were out there somewhere, waiting… planning. Another shudder shook Miles and he got up and did another walk through of the facility. He had done several since the Colonel had left with the last of the soldiers, but the doubt and fear racking his mind made him second-guess himself. Maybe he had missed a closet or under a desk. Maybe someone was still hiding inside and would get a lucky shot when he was otherwise occupied. He hated feeling this panicked. It was totally out of character for the cool and collected man of mystery he had become over the last seventy years. But his mind wouldn’t let him rest. Was he finally succumbing to the side effects of the Indra Project genome splicing? His thoughts returned to the labyrinth of cells in Los Alamos where the crazed project subjects raged against restraints and beat themselves against the hard stone walls. No, I can’t go down that path, he thought, shaking his head vigorously. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. He did a short mental check of his thought processes… no, it’s the fear doing this. That thing, whatever it is, that Muskie brought, is messing with me.

The thought of Muskie brought a smoldering anger to the front of his mind. That psychotic little shit deserved to die. Miles had read Muskie’s dossier when he had been selected for inclusion in Project Indra and the record of the atrocities he committed under the guise of ‘enemy interrogation’ in Viet Nam had left Miles hating the man before he even met him. And then when the guy showed up and he looked like a little Jewish watch repairman, Miles had hated him even more. Miles had wished that Muskie would simply succumb to the aging insanity that the other subjects had, but he was not so lucky. Muskie survived. He became ever more vile to look at but ever more powerful as well. And the guy was no dummy, Miles reminded himself. You can’t be a top notch interrogator without knowing quite a bit about human nature and general psychology. No, Muskie is one sneaky, smart, sonofabitch, Miles mused as he finished his latest walkthrough of the facility. I can’t let my guard down with him around. Miles checked the last of the rooms and then returned to the control room and the cctv monitors. He was alone... For now. Time to rest.

[sassy-ahsoka-tano]

Hold Me Close

Character/Fandom: Austin Butler

Requested: yes - @fangirl-imagines i love u kenz 💕

Prompt: #17 Scenarios - Haunted House

TW: Mentions of blood, gore, etc. just haunted house stuff

Rating: Pg   ||   Word Count: 1454

A/N: enjoy my loves!!!

🦋 mila

─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────

“Ugh, do we have to Aus?” you whine, tugging on your boyfriend’s long, lanky arm. “I really don’t like these things.

“What are you worried about, babe?” Austin responds, moving to wrap his arm around your shoulder. “You know I’ll protect you.”

He pulls you closer to him and you can’t help but smile as the scent of his cologne wafts into your nostrils. He always smells amazing, clean and musky, just the way you want him to. You fit perfectly underneath his armpit and gaze up into his gorgeous crystal blue eyes. He smiles warmly down at you.

“Yeah, I know,” you respond begrudgingly with a sigh. “Alright fine. But if you let go of my hand, I’m gonna be upset.”

“Never.”

You grip tightly onto Austin’s fingers as you walk behind him toward the big haunted house on the carnival grounds. It’s not that you’re necessarily scared of the actors dressed up in the haunted house so much as you dislike them being so close to you. You’d rather not have some random guy you don’t know get up in your grill in a bloodied pig mask. That’s not exactly your idea of a good time.

But if it gives you an excuse to cuddle up to Austin and have him protect you? You’d walk through fire for that. Austin stops abruptly before the door and glances down at you, his hands holding yours up to his lips. He presses a soft kiss to your fingers.

“You’re sure you’re gonna be okay?”

“Austin, with you around? I’m never better. Let’s do this thing.”

He chuckles, a beautiful smile crossing his features and creasing the edges of his eyes. His infectious expression catches onto your face and you share a grin. He turns around to enter the haunted house and you trail him again, stepping directly behind his heels as he walks. You grip onto his fingers with one hand and his arm with the other. The cotton sleeve of his jacket is soft and you chuckle as you resist making a boyfriend material joke.

You enter the first room to see half-animal, half-human hybrids. People with horse heads and pig noses and deer antlers sewed onto their heads with bloody and gory makeup. You step closer to Austin and feel his grip tighten on your fingers. He glances over his shoulder down at you and smiles. You can barely see him in the darkness of the space but just knowing that he’s got you safe and sound makes you feel infinitely better. You heave a shaky breath and clutch onto Austin’s sleeve as you move through the room.

“See that wasn’t so bad,” Austin says as you pass through a connecting space between two of the exhibits. “You did great, baby.”

You lean your head against him, closing your eyes in relief. But your tranquility is soon broken by the shrill sound of a bloodcurdling screech. Your eyes flick open, trying to adjust to the low lighting but barely able to do so. They frantically flick around as you try to take everything in. This room is full of bandaged patients, stuck halfway through botched surgeries. Your arms curl tighter around Austin as you walk along the path and try to avoid the actors. Shockingly, you manage to make it through the section without being targeted.

But your luck runs out when you enter the clown room. You reach up with your free hand to shield your ears from the gratingly loud sound of chainsaws revving. You stumble after Austin as you cower against him, hating every single second of this. You feel Austin’s arms wrap around you as he maneuvers you in front of him. He rests his arms across your chest in an X and holds you tightly against him. Your eyes are closed and your knuckles are white as you grip hard onto his wrists. You jump a little when you feel his breath on your face.

“You okay, Y/N? You’re doing great, love. We’re almost through. I got you, babe,” he says, his deep raspy voice calming as it sounds in your ear. “I got you.”

You open your eyes, feeling the creases on your forehead as you try to remain as calm as possible. You hesitantly follow the tall man in front of you, glancing from side to side in an attempt to anticipate whether you’re about to get jump scared. Unfortunately, you’re not as perceptive as you think, because a clown manages to get within two inches of you and revs his chainsaw loudly, accompanying it with a cackling laugh. You flinch back with a scream, sliding down Austin’s arms. If Austin didn’t have such a strong grasp on you, you would have been on your ass. But his fingers dig into the skin by your sides and he pulls you back up.

“I got you, I got you,” he repeats. “Don’t worry, baby. I’m here for you. I got you.”

Your heart is beating a million miles a minute and you feel like crying. You exit the clown section and enter a longer connecting section. It feels eerily quiet here and you pause, stepping off to the side to compose yourself. Austin follows, turning to shield you from the line moving through the haunted house. You brush your hair from your face and try to breathe through your fear, your inhales shaky and uneven. Austin takes ahold of your face and tilts your gaze up to meet his. His thumbs gently stroke your cheekbones as he peers down at you.

“I love you, you know that?” he asks and you nod, sniffing back tears. “I’m always gonna love you and I’m always gonna be here for you. I’m so proud of you for doing this. You’re being so brave, love. So brave.”

You scoff and shake your head but he angles your face back up to his.

“Hey, would I lie to you? Hell no I wouldn’t. Now, listen, we’re so close to being out. One more section and I know you can handle it. Can you do it for me? Can you make it through the last section?”

You nod with a gulp and a deep breath. You want to do it. You want to make Austin proud of you. He’s right. You can handle it.

“There you go. In front or behind?”

You step in front of him, grabbing onto his arms and tying them over your chest. He chuckles and gently guides you back into line between two random groups. You take a few deep breaths and grasp onto his hands as you step into the final section. This room is modeled after an asylum, with patients chained to the walls and moaning, groaning, and screaming. You oddly feel more confident than you did before. You barely even flinch when a woman with dark long strands of spidery hair screams into your face and rakes her fingernails down her skin. Austin’s arm immediately flies up to cover your face from her. He curls you into his body, the heat from his skin creating a protective barrier around you.

By the time Austin lowers his arm, you’re already stepping back out into the light of the carnival grounds. You breathe the fresh air and sigh with relief. Austin immediately pulls you into a tight hug. You close your eyes, burying your head into his shoulder and breathing him in. He presses a kiss to the top of your head as he gently sways you back and forth. You push against his shoulder to lean back and glance up at him.

“Hey, that’s my baby. I knew you could do it,” Austin says, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear with a smile. “You barely even needed me in that last section.”

“Oh, I needed you more than you think. You’re the only reason I finished it without crying. I don’t think I could have done it without you, Aus.”

“Well good thing you’ll never have to. Cause, like I said, I’ll always be here to protect you. Whenever you need it.”

You smile, raising yourself up on your tiptoes to press a soft kiss to his lips. He smiles into the kiss, his hand winding around the back of your head to gently hold you against him. When you separate, he rests his forehead against yours for a quick second before he pulls back to look down at you. He winks and then glances to the left.

“Now, what do you say we go get some ice cream? I think you deserve it.”

“Yes please,” you laugh, interlacing your fingers with his as you head off toward the ice cream stand.

─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────

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[kareniliana]

Klaus: Oh it’s you

A//N: Happy New Years!! I took a few days off for the holiday and traveling. I was in my hometown for the Holidays. Now I’m back for school to start. I love it here and hopefully now that I'm in my own space I can get more writing now. Okay I hope you enjoy!

xx Karebear 💛🧸

You walked out of the Lockwood Mansion to your car angrily with tears threatening to fall down your face. 

“Stupid stupid stupid!” you gritted through your teeth, your emotional state being completely broken. Guests to the party walked past you, giving you the hardest judgmental looks. You rolled your eyes and continued your walk to your vehicle. 

Seeing your car in sight, “Go to the party, they said. Tell him how you feel, it’ll be great they said” you muttered to yourself as you fished for your keys in your handbag.

You gave up looking for the keys, sighing deeply you take a long hard look at your reflection. “Stupid stupid stupid! You’re so stupid! Of course he doesn’t want you- stupid stupid” You cover your face with your hands, turning around to lean on your car. You began to feel sorry for yourself, refusing to cry you laugh at yourself. He could’ve just rejected you, he didn’t need to make a whole scene out of it. You slid down to sit on the concrete ground, keeping your legs close tightly. You rarely wore dresses, you dressed to impress. But now here you are sitting outside, in a skin tight blue dress feeling sorry for yourself.

After your laughter had died down, a frown was imprinted on your face. You were feeling humiliated, embarrassed, ashamed, hurt, and scared to ever put yourself out there. You bury your face into your arms, trying to shield yourself form the world.

Suddenly you heard someones footsteps, they stop not too far away from your sitting position. You didn’t want to lift your head and have it possibly be the very man that put you in this position in the first place. You heard the man sigh deeply, come closer and sit with you. He actually unbuttoned his suit jacket and sat with you. He smelled like... dried paint and... you wanna say blood but decided to go with a musky scent.

“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours, love?” The suave British accent of the one and only Klaus Mikaelson comes to your ear. Even his voice is a turn on, this man has zero bad qualities. Not including the murdering tendency’s. 

You lifted your head to look at him, “Oh it’s you.” You said almost monotone. If you weren’t feeling shitty about yourself you’d love nothing more than to talk to this handsome chunky man. But you were feeling crappy, so you gave him zero entertainment.

He seemed almost taken aback but your attitude. He’s never personally met you but he’s definitely seen you around with your werewolf friends, your witches, and vampires. You were human, as far as he could tell, he always wondered how you are still alive being in the middle of everything. 

“I take it you know who I am!” He grinned widely at you, making you chuckle a little. You softly smile at him, looking out to the trees. 

“Of course, psychopathic murdering hybrid maniac.” You chuckled, earning a small laugh from him.

“Yeah, that pretty much sums it up.” He looked at you as you looked out into the woods. He could see the emotions on your face, you were hurt. “Don’t mind that imbecile love. Life can offer you much more than just one love. Theres epic love...toxic love.. immature love... true love.”

You looked to him, contemplating on getting in your car or to stay with him. Obviously you chose the latter. You reach your hand out to him, “My names Y/n Y/l/n”

He smirked, taking your hand in his to bring it up to his lips. Placing a soft kiss on it, all while he looked you in the eyes. His eye sight never leaving yours. You smiled and felt your checks warm up. Blowing your cover being cool, calm, and collected.

You broke your eye contact, looking to your feet. Smiling like a goof. If you felt shitty before, you don’t now. Klaus had always wanted to bring up a conversation with you, but never thought it was the right time. Until today, he was walking into the mansion as he heard everything go down with he-who-shall-not-be-named. He was angry as you walked by him sad and angry. Looking to the guy talking up a storm with another woman, literally not even a second passed by and he was on the next one. So Klaus did what Klaus does best. He compelled him to jump off the stairs during a slow dance, when the guests capacity is at its peak. Not to kill himself, but to hurt himself.

“What do you say to a dance, Love?” Klaus smirked at you, offering his hand to you. You were a bit surprised he asked, maybe he was just feeling pity for you.

“You don’t have to ask me to dance just because I’m sad.” You shook your head, you never really had great confidence in yourself.

“Okay, then it’s a good thing I’m asking because I think you’re beautiful and I want to say I danced with the most gorgeous human in Mystic Falls.” He was charming, that's for sure. You smiled and nodded.

He stood up first, offering you his hand and helping you up gracefully. He placed your hand on his forearm, escorting you to the building. “You do look quite ravishing in this dress.” 

You cheeks glow red, smiling and completely into this feeling. You didn’t know how else to describe it as blooming. Your love for each other blooming. Your relationship blooming open. You felt seen and heard. 

Stefan, Damon and Elena saw you and Klaus walk in, totally into each other. Moving in sync perfectly, your eye sights locked with each other. Damon looked to his brother with worry evident on his face.

“What is his plan?” Elena couldn’t help but ask. Stefan observed how you talked and danced, he was convinced that whatever it is with you two, was real. 

He shook his head at her, “No, I don’t think this is part of any agenda. Look at him, he looks...”

“Really into her.” Elena finishes, placing a hand on Stefans shoulder.

The trio stared at you and Klaus happily dancing with each other. You swayed with him, following his moves. Not speaking much but just embracing the feeling of the beginning.

[thanekrios]

The way fall smells

SUMMARY: Tommy always loved the distinctive scent of fall. After a day patrolling with Joel, he remembers why.

The leaves had grown old and begun falling, laying carpets of warm hues on every trail surrounding Jackson. Tommy took a deep breath, taking in the unique sharpness in the air that came with the last months of the year.

It had been a good day. They had patrolled until noon, everything clear – no signs of Hunters or infected– and after checking in, left for the rest of the day to hunt and walk, to talk and have a snack under the orange light of the late afternoon just like they did when they were young.

Joel was having a good day too; Tommy could see it. For the whole afternoon, his shoulders had been relaxed, arms resting at his sides; every now and then, he stopped to take in the shushing of the leaves or the landscape. He was at peace.

Over the course of two years, Tommy had seen how his brother’s sharp edges had begun to dull and a smile would come to him easier than a frown. He talked more, about Sarah and Tess and sometimes even about himself; he hummed around Tommy, sang around Ellie. For a long time, Joel’s hatred for everything was like an all-consuming fire. But Tommy knew that as catastrophic as fires could be, they could also restore – he had seen it with grasslands, entire fields cleansed by the flames, making way for new vegetation to thrive. And now, he had seen it with Joel.

“We should head back.” Joel said as he got up and brushed breadcrumbs off his jacket. “We don’t want it getting too late.”

“Yeah,” Tommy agreed as they began walking in Jackson’s direction. “Got any plans for tonight?”

“Watchin’ a movie with Ellie.”

‘You’re both welcome to join us for dinner if you like.”

Tommy made a pause and considered his words.

Whenever they had them over, it wasn’t just dinner. It was a series of stories from any period of their lives. The brothers grew more excited with each anecdote, Maria would bid them goodnight long after their plates had been cleared; and as their laughter turned loud like thunderclaps, Ellie began knocking down every miserable object in her proximity as she became overexcited while shouting No fucking way! Then came the guitars. More laughter and clatter. And before they knew it, Maria was walking out the door for an early patrol.

So, Tommy added:

“Before your movie.”

“Thanks, but we don’t wanna interrupt Maria’s sleep two nights in a row.” Joel’s eyes ran across the golden foliage, the corners of his mouth curving.

“Well, I’m sure Ellie would appreciate some leftovers.” Tommy found himself smiling as well. “I can leave’em by the porch.”

“Usual place?”

“Usual place,” he confirmed.

“Appreciate it.”

They walked in silence for a while, enjoying the brittle sound of falling leaves and with each step, they walked into memories.

Tommy loved fall.

He first became enchanted with it as a child. He craved the crunching of a dry leaf under his booted feet, having a hot drink when his lips were chapped, listening to Joel play soft melodies as the sun set fire to the clouds. But above all, he looked forward to the unmistakable scent of summer’s perishing.

Tommy knew he came across as simple, devoid of imagination. Even before the outbreak people had assumed there wasn't much to him, that he never dreamt of anything other than a job in construction, blindly following Joel’s steps. He knew why it was easy to believe he had chosen an uncomplicated life rather than having settled for it. He didn’t make any effort to correct anyone. His dreams had been his own. Truth was, Tommy had wanted to be a storyteller in his youth.

During his childhood, he imagined the playful winds that came with fall were whispering stories, travelling through the rattling orange and yellow leafed trees, there for anyone who was willing to listen. Tommy imagined, to escape the empty rooms, the absent parents. He opened his mind and closed his eyes to craft tales of floating homes in the sky and flying whales and homemade dinners.

Fall shaped each story and realm that sprang in his heart and imagination. He didn’t speak of any of them, for whenever he had attempted to put it into words, the intricacy of each story, the vibrance of every world, the heartbreak experienced by each character became colorless.  

"All imagination and zero talent," he confessed to Joel in his early teens.

Joel, who wasn't the wordy type either, comforted him the only way he knew how: by handing him his treasured guitar.

"You can tell stories with this, too."

By trading words for melodies, Tommy had compromised. If that was to be the only way to set his stories out into the world, it was enough.

Joel stopped and took in a deep breath, catching Tommy’s attention. His older brother let out a pleased sigh:

“I like the way it smells.” He didn’t need to say more, Tommy knew what he meant, but he continued, “Y’know, fall.”

He took in the words and allowed them to travel the usual road, back into his heart. 

“Yeah,” Tommy agreed. He buried his hands deep in his jacket pockets and filled his lungs with fresh air. He had heard that many times before but never from Joel. “Y’know, Sarah used to say the same thing.”

Something softened in Joel’s eyes, the look on his face echoing the one Tommy had seen on him countless times, whenever he had braided Sarah’s hair with so much care and tenderness it made it difficult to think of him as anything other than a loving father.

“Did she now?”

Tommy nodded:

“She said she liked the way fall smelled and then, uh, asked me what the smell was.”

“What did ya say?”

“I dunno, somethin’ dumb, like dust from a dirt road or somethin’.”

“That…that’s pretty accurate. Why’d you say it’s dumb? Was Sarah disappointed or somethin’?” Joel asked after a moment.

Tommy quirked a brow:

“Sarah? Our Sarah? That girl didn’t act disappointed a day in her life.”

“Yeah” Joel agreed in a whisper.

“But she asked me again the year after that. And then the one after that. And it kinda became a game we played. I gave her the thickest answers and she took’em. Then she started havin’ answers of her own.”

“Oh, yeah? What’d she say?”

“Well, a bunch of stuff. Good stuff. I think one time she said, uh, sharpened pencil. Yeah, that was it. Sharpened pencil. She also came up with…”

In recent years, Tommy had become an active forgetter, a problem that had triggered countless arguments with Maria. But those moments with Sarah, he remembered better than entire years.

“Apples, yeah. Refreshin’ and sweet and sour. There was, uh, wet soil after rain and hot hay dryin’ in the sun.”

“That’s…that’s a good one” Joel chuckled before kneeling to tie his shoelace. Tommy was certain his brother was only pretending to do it to shield his face. Then, as he stood up, he held his gaze. His smile was wide, eyes gleaming. “What else?”

Tommy didn’t have to think too hard. He knew just the one.

It had been a late afternoon, two days before the outbreak. Orange tinted the town as if the moment already belonged to a memory. Sarah had a plan; she would go to Tannhaus Watches & Jewellery to get Joel’s birthday present and he would go to the bakery next to it and place an order for a cake.

“Divide and conquer!” Sarah had repeated on their way to town.

The breeze carried the earthy sweet scent of the piles of leaves, tickling his nose. For once, he had decided, he would ask the question first:

“What does fall smell like?”

It had taken her but a few seconds to whip up an answer, taking Tommy by surprise:

“Fall smells like you, Uncle Tommy.”

Tommy’s words had died in his throat. He looked down, speechless still, and rested his eyes on her smile, equal parts sweet and smug. The realization of never having felt more loved dawned on him—it was a similar sensation to floating downstream. He felt weightless.  Tommy remembered how when Sarah was little, they spent most of their time lying on golden grass, looking for shapes in the clouds or loudly singing along in his car. Sometimes they sat on the porch and drank extra sweet hot cocoa and he told her – in his own convoluted way – the stories he had told himself as a child to feel less alone. Tommy had reminded her, through his stories and his terrible mac and cheese dinners, that he would always be there for her – just like Joel had been for him.

“Alright. You win, sweetheart,” he said when he meant to say Thank you, I love you too.

Sarah had wrapped her skinny arms around his waist. She would never do that again.

They made their way down the street, their sneakers brushing against the asphalt, the musky fragrance of wisterias faint in the air.

“I wasn’t tryin’ to win but I’m glad I did.” And she had meant I love you more.

Jackson peered through the trees, lights dotted across the county. The temperature had dropped, the chill bit at Tommy’s ears, pink shading his cheeks. A big lump had formed in his throat — there was no way he would be able to speak without his voice breaking. It didn’t matter, he wanted to share it with Joel. The words poured out of his lips as tears ran down his cheeks. He stopped. He half laughed; half cried. Then explained, in vivid detail, how Sarah had made him feel. He apologized. Hell, he didn’t even know what he was apologizing for. Talking about Sarah? Crying? He had grown so used to getting burned whenever he had brought her up, it was still easy to forget just how much Joel had changed.

After Sarah’s death, for the first part of the nightmarish years they spent together, barely scraping by, surviving at the cost of their own humanity, he dreamt of her almost every night. Waking up in sobs, the light dissolving into grey shadows. Joel had refused to look at him, splintering Tommy’s heart. They never spoke of the past. They never spoke of her. They took. They survived. And their hollowness deepened with every wretched day.

Time moved forward; the changing of the seasons serving as the last remaining proof of it. He found comfort in the breeze that came as the year was about to end, revisiting memories and his old stories. Sometimes, as he patrolled, he ventured back into his worlds and again greeted the heroes of his childhood. He knew that there was no room for dreams or stories and his heart ached as he gave them up all over again. And then, he watched how the seams of Joel’s humanity continued ripping one after the other. He had believed he would never get his brother back. But now, Joel’s eyes glistened, a combination of longing and joy. He told him there wasn’t a thing to be sorry for. He listened and placed a hand on his little brother’s shoulder.

“Thank you,” Joel said softly once Tommy hung his head and fell quiet.

Tommy nodded, letting out a trembling vaporous exhalation.  

“I’ve always wanted to tell you about that,” Tommy said as the knot in his throat loosened and he looked back up at Joel “I just didn’t know how.”

“I’m glad you finally did.” Joel gave Tommy’s shoulder a little squeeze before letting go.

Tommy watched him walk ahead, his silhouette against the sinking sun. He couldn’t see it, but he knew Joel was smiling. He was smiling too. The wind blew. It smelled like fall. It smelled like home. 

[corvus--rex]

Way back after I had just spent an entire weekend burning through the first 14k words of Dormiveglia, I decided that I wanted to do something of a foil to that, and this one came about. It's semi-abandoned rn, but I do want to come back to it. I inverted the boys' dynamics (Omega Keith and Alpha Lance), but - and no spoilers! - that's not the only part that's changed-but-not. Standing rule still applies - it's ok to skip the Omegaverses if they're not your thing! :)

~*~*~*~

Betas never could understand. Betas kept to their own dynamic. Keith supposed he envied them in a way. Never having to worry about Alphas making lewd comments, at the very least, on one end of the scale, or treating them like fine china on the other. And Omegas themselves were either just as submissive on one end, or more like Keith, not having any patience for typical Alpha behavior on the other. It’s what nearly got him kicked out of the Garrison. His propensity for getting in fights. If it wasn’t Griffin, it was another Alpha making obnoxious comments.

And then it’s what had gotten him stuck with the world’s most annoying co-pilot. In the interest of “diversity” and “balance”, his irritating co-pilot was an Alpha, and the other two crew members were an Alpha and Omega. Keith felt a sort of kinship with the other Omega. Pidge didn’t have time for anyone’s shit. He got it. He knew what it was like to be an Omega with a short fuse. It’s what made Keith like the tech genius when they first met.

He did have to, grudgingly, admit that, as annoying as his co-pilot was, as an Alpha, he was one of the better ones. Lance knew that Keith was the better pilot, and that’s why he’d started some imagined rivalry between them. Which didn’t help him, in Keith’s opinion. The other Alpha, flight engineer Hunk, was a cinnamon roll made of sunshine, and unlike any Alpha Keith had ever met. Even Shiro and Adam. Shiro saved him, in a way, and he and his boyfriend – fiancé, by then – basically adopted him. Shiro may have been missing, but Adam still loved him, despite the fight they had before Shiro left.

But none of this explained why he was on the roof of the Garrison barracks in the middle of the night with Pidge, Hunk, and, unfortunately, Lance. Pidge had been looking for his brother and father, lost on the same mission as Shiro. But something a little closer to home was messing with his computer. Either way, this whole night had been a shitshow. It started with Lance dragging Hunk along to sneak off campus. Something Keith could have told them how to do far more effectively if they’d asked. He didn’t need half his flight crew getting themselves in trouble, so he’d gone after them. And then they started following Pidge to see where he was going. And then they were all on the roof.

“Lately, all the alien chatter has been about something they're calling ‘Voltron’. But that’s been interrupted by whatever this is,” Pidge said, gesturing at his laptop screen.

Hunk crowded in beside him. “Oh, oh, wait. This looks like Fraunhofer lines. For elements, y’know? But this doesn’t look like any I've ever seen. Maybe we can reconfigure your scanner to pick up on it and we can trace where it’s coming from.”

“How long would that take?” Lance whined from where he was sprawled on the floor of the roof.

“Not long. Maybe half an hour.”

Keith just sighed and leaned back. At least he could see space from there.

Reconfiguring Pidge’s scanner took the half hour Hunk said it would. In the interest of not getting caught, Keith redirected them when trying to sneak out so they wouldn’t. Finding the source of the readings the scanner was picking up took a little longer than a half an hour. More like an hour and a half. But when they found the cave and its odd carvings it made things better. Then the carvings on the walls and floor lit up when Lance touched them and suddenly they found themselves falling down a waterfall and directly in front of a massive blue cat-robot-something.

Standing in front of it, they all saw the same thing, an even larger humanoid-shaped robot that looked like it was made of the blue cat in front of them and four others, all different colors. They all knew that it was Voltron, and that the cat in front of them was a piece of it. The vision dissipated quickly, leaving them all wondering if they really saw it. But they did, and then were wondering how to get past the force field the cat had around it.

Without warning, Lance walked up to the energy shield. “Maybe all you have to do is knock,” he said, doing just that.

The force field dropped, and the cat’s head lowered, allowing him in. Lance, being Lance, rushed in without hesitation. He found out quickly that it wasn’t a robot, it was a ship. He threw himself into the pilot’s seat and the controls came to life under his hands. Hunk, Pidge, and Keith made it on board seconds before the cat broke through the rock wall and out into the night.

Lying in his bed onboard the Castle, that night felt like a lifetime ago but also like it could have been yesterday. Keith stared at the ceiling, insomnia doing its best to ruin his sleep cycle. He kept thinking about what had happened that night – finding Blue, rescuing Shiro, and then Blue taking them through the wormhole. It wasn’t the thoughts themselves that kept him up, but he found that insomnia made his mind spin out of control. Well, if he couldn’t sleep, he might as well train. Then he wouldn’t have to deal with thinking about things he couldn’t change.

Finding out that he was half Galra solved one mystery about Keith’s past. But something still felt off. Something he couldn’t figure out. He had asked Allura and Coran if the Castle’s medical technology could determine DNA origins. He wanted to know if they could figure out his biology. But they both told him that it would take a trained medic to be able to properly accomplish that. So the rest of the mystery remained.

He heard sounds of drones and gladiator training robots as he approached the training deck. It was the middle of the night, who could possibly be up at this hour besides him? That question was answered before he got to the door and heard the distinct sound of laser fire. Lance was all about his precious beauty sleep, what the hell was he doing up – and training – at this hour? Keith walked into the training deck just as the last gladiator fell, a floor panel opening to drop the drone into the automated repair sub-floor.

“Pause training sequence,” Lance panted, sinking to one of the benches at the edge of the room.

“What are you doing here in the middle of the night?” Keith asked, walking over.

“I could ask you the same thing.”

“I couldn’t sleep, and insomnia fucks with my head. I figured training was better than letting it.”

Lance nodded. “Yeah, same.” He paused, collecting his thoughts. “I – I never meant to be such a dick back on Earth. Or out here. It wasn’t even anything to do with you being an Omega; you were just the better pilot and it made me feel like I had something to prove. Probably sounds as stupid as I think it does.”

“No?” Keith questioned, sitting beside the Alpha, “I don’t think it sounds stupid, but I don’t think like that, so I don’t really get it. I don’t think you have anything to prove. I just thought you were annoying.”

Lance snorted and leaned back against the wall. “Thanks,” he said, “Some people have a way with words, while Keith just decks them in the face.”

“I can be a little too blunt sometimes, huh?”

Lance rolled his head to face the Omega beside him. “Sometimes? Try, like, all the time. Dude, you nearly punched Iverson for some bullshit he said. I’m not denying it was bullshit, just saying that maybe punching him wasn’t the best choice. And the only reason he said what he did was because you have no filter.”

“Hey. I have a filter. I just choose to ignore it,” Keith defended himself.

Lance burst out laughing. “Ok, fair,” he said, laughter subsiding. “I don’t want to be rivals. I never really did. But we’re a team now. All of us. And we should act like it.”

“Yeah, we should,” Keith agreed, “I don’t mean for this to be the thing I lead with, but are you ok? I mean, I know we all miss Earth, home, but something’s been feeling off with you lately.”

The Alpha sighed heavily. “Yeah – I don’t know. Ever since we got out here, there’s been this weird nostalgic feeling. And I don’t know why or where it’s coming from. Like, sometimes I’ll see something here on the castle, or it will be something Allura or Coran says, or, like, the way they say it, and I get this weird feeling. Like it’s familiar somehow.”

“Well, we found out that I’m not all human. Maybe it’s possible that you’re not either. We have no idea how many races or species found Earth separately. Maybe there’s someone in your family who wasn’t human.”

Lance had never even considered that. But Keith had a point. Maybe somewhere in his family was someone who wasn’t from Earth. He didn’t think it was anyone recent, but then again, Keith was only three months younger than him, and he wasn’t fully human. Who knew, maybe one of his parents wasn’t as human as they claimed.

“Yeah, maybe there is,” Lance finally agreed.

Keith realized that he was actually tired. He didn’t want to stay up and train, he just wanted to go to bed. And it looked like Lance felt the same way. Was his insomnia cured? Probably not. But maybe late-night talks with friends could help with it.

“I think I'm gonna head to bed,” the Omega said.

“Yeah,” Lance yawned, “Me too.”

They walked back to their rooms together, brushing against one another occasionally, but that was just because it was late and they were tired. There was nothing more to that. There couldn’t be. They had only just agreed that butting heads all the time was a bad idea. Keith couldn’t bring himself to admit that there was something about Lance’s earthy, woodsy scent that called to him. There wasn’t. Was there? The Alpha’s scent had the musky note common to Alphas, but it wasn’t overbearing like so many were. It was soft, comforting. But that still didn’t mean that there was something else there. Lance just had a slightly unusual scent, that’s all.

Alphas usually only went into a rut when they were involved with an Omega, or mated to one. But being in such close quarters with three Omegas made it more likely to happen, relationship or not. But Keith wasn’t at all thinking about how Lance’s scent changed the one time said Alpha found himself in a rut when the last half of his own heat had coincided with the first half Allura’s. How it had become richer and deeper and how Keith had found himself instinctively attracted to it. Nope. Not going there.

Keith didn’t know that Lance was thinking the same thing. He didn’t want to keep going with some stupid, pointless rivalry that he’d made up. So he’d done something about it. But now that he had, Lance was trying not to think about the Omega walking beside him. The one with the herbal, incense-sweet scent. The scent that wasn’t anywhere near as sweet as other Omegas. Lance loved Pidge like a little sister, but she smelled like buttered toffee, and it only got worse when her heats hit. Keith’s scent intensified when he went into heat, but he didn’t smell like a candy shop.

So, no. Lance was not thinking about the boy beside him. Not at all. Or his scent. Or why he was suddenly thinking about how his scent changed during heats. Especially not that last one. Very especially not that last one. Not that it mattered. This was neither the time nor place for it. They had far more important things like winning a 10,000-year-old war to worry about. So Lance was just going to put that thought in the box of things to worry about later.

The two separated at their doors, going to bed alone. Neither would admit that the other’s scent permeated their dreams.

The next morning, Allura called a meeting after breakfast. When the paladins gathered on the bridge, they found the projected star map up, focused on an area of space they had never seen. It was a little farther out of the way, and, as Pidge noticed, not too far from Olkarion. But that didn’t answer the question of what the system was or why it was of interest to Voltron.

“I will admit,” Allura said, “The planet in this system is not one that requires Voltron. But it is one that may be of help to us.” She zoomed in on the map, showing the planet in question. “This is the planet Tas. They have an innate knowledge and understanding of biology. While they could be a great asset to the Coalition, this is more personal. A question about the capabilities of our medical technology here aboard the castle was raised recently. The Tasians may be able to help with the answer to that question better than we can here.”

“Getting better functionality from our medical equipment would be a huge help,” Pidge said.

Everyone agreed on that point, and that their next stop would be planet Tas. Everyone took their stations, Allura plotted the course, and opened a wormhole. A lush, green world came into view on the screen. The castle was very shortly hailed by the planet.

“Greetings and welcome to Tas. I am Ael, head of the planetary council. To what do we owe the pleasure of a visit from Voltron and the Castle of Lions?”

Ael appeared human, only the intensity of their bright emerald green eyes gave any indication that they were not. Their primary sex was difficult to discern, and no one wanted to assume, especially with an alien species. Likewise, their clothing didn’t appear gendered in any way. It was simple, with clean lines, and flowed for ease of movement.

“Greetings, Ael. I am Princess Allura of Altea and the Voltron Coalition. We have come here to Tas because of your people’s innate understanding of biology. We do not have the training or knowledge to make full use of our medical equipment and were hoping you and your people could assist us with that.”

Ael brightened. “Of course. We would be happy to assist the Voltron Coalition. Especially with something as vital as the care of those sick or injured. Please, you are welcome to land.” The gently smiling face of the Tasian disappeared from the screen.

Coran received the landing site coordinates, and Allura guided the Castle to the planet’s surface. The planet Tas was just as green on the surface as it was from space. Had they not seen it on the descent, team Voltron might never have known the city was there. While controlled, every building was dripping in plant life, whether from climbing vines, hanging planters, or window boxes. It felt as though the planet itself was alive.

The team quickly came to realize that primary sexes were of no social importance. The other Tasians were as androgynous as Ael, and everyone filled whatever role they were best suited to, regardless of primary or secondary sexes. Primary sex played a role to an extent even in Altean culture, and this was something unlike anything they’d seen.

“What is it about this place that feels so familiar?” Lance asked himself.

Keith was standing beside him, hearing his question. The Omega had had the same thought. “I don’t know, but something is definitely familiar about it.”

~*~*~*~

Links to the rest of the series:

1 | 2 | 3* | 4 | 5* | 6* | 7 | 8 | 9* | 10 | 11 | 12* | 13 | 14 | 15* | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19*

[widowsofchaos]

Can I request “147. “I’m not sure how many coffees it takes to be happy, but so far, it’s not twelve” from the prompts list??❤️

❝ Never Enough Coffee

summary: black coffee is vital for one grumpy unstable 100 year old man.

pairing: Bucky Barnes x black!reader

Cait, I love you so much. It’s not even funny! Thanks for requesting, you’re the damn best. Icon? Indeed. I did this with Bucky, cause we just a bunch hoes for that beautiful dork. <3

Fluff, grumpy Bucky, Sam, and Bucky banter, and a smidge of implied smut. I apologize that this isn’t that good, or have poetic wordplay that I’m practicing, I just haven’t written anything in over two years, so be gentle with me! Lmfao, I hope y’all like this! Pls request more!

Requested from this prompt list.

Do Not Repost My Works!

It’s a crime.

A crime against humanity — not even Captain fucking America going against the Accords, against 117 fucking countries can touch the immense severity of this.

It’s bright and sunny, 8 o’clock in the morning to be exact, and Bucky Barnes – the Sargent of the Howling Compandos, Brooklyn’s forgotten 40s’ Casanova, the Winter Soldier, the fist of HYDRA, a ghost story, one of the best assassins in world history, right next to Romanoff, respectfully — is up and out of bed.

And he’s ready to have heads roll.

The compound’s windows are wide open and the sun is mockingly baring it’s warm ass into his groggy eyes. His nose is scrunched up in annoyance, sitting in the compound’s kitchen, as he begrudgingly sips his coffee — black like his soul.

“Good morning, old man.” A sing-song tone pierces through the air, disrupting any peace and quiet Bucky clings for.

Of fucking course.

“Fuck off, tweety.” Bucky’s lowly growled as he sipped his beverage. A sneaky chuckle filtered behind him, “Tsk, is someone a little grumpy?” Sam’s babified tone causes Bucky to clench his metal hand into a fist, the metal softly rearing.

Samuel Wilson, a former United States Air Force pararescue airman. Use to work at the Veterans Affairs department to assist soldiers for rehabilitation services, and much more. Has been an helping aid for Bucky during his rehabilitation back at Wankanda.

A man of honor.

But as of today, Sam is in the same damn boat as Bucky. Grumpy, exhausted, and infuriated. Not an soldier, not the Falcon, just Samuel Wilson. A man who yearns for his bed. So fuck honor right now, he’s wants to push buttons. A bilious man on a mission.

Waking up early for a long meeting among the Avengers, and then training new S.H.I.E.L.D recruits. Long strenuous hours of combat, practice at the gun range — oh God, he’s not ready.

He was a inch away from ripping Steve’s head off earlier at 6 in the morning, to go for their run. Almost flipping Steve off, and tell him to ‘go fuck himself in his perfectly sculpted patriotic ass’. He didn’t though. Rogers didn’t deserve that.

Barnes on the other hand?

If Sam has to be miserable on this damn boat with Bucky, best believe he’s gonna make him suffer along with him. Barnes and Wilson are kindred spirits when it comes to terms of bickering. A love-hate yin-yang, can’t live with each other, and can’t live without each other.

All for one, bitch. Wrestle with Barnes off the boat—figuratively.

If only.

Gripping the mug tighter in his flesh hand — just a little more tighter and Bucky could crack the cup into multiple little pieces.

But he won’t let his frustration get the best of him, no matter how much Sam gets a hard-on for pissing the WWII veteran off.

It’s a NASA mug you bought for him, a constant reminder that lets him know how you pay attention to his personal interests, and he cherishes everything you buy him.

Just being in your presence is the only gift he ever truly wants.

A whirring noise infiltrated through the air, and entering the kitchen. A gust of air whipped against Bucky’s dome, a flash of red and grey wizzing by.

The ungraceful flight caused Bucky’s long chestnut tresses to be ruffled in different directions, and even get his ends in his eyes; earning a belly laugh from Sam, and a programmed chirp from the infuriating metallic bird.

Redwing. The trusty companion of Sam. His empathic link, his side-kick — a pain in the ass. Might as well be Sam’s child. Jesus — it is.

“I swear Wilson, one of these days, I’m gonna get Alphine to destroy that thing. Don’t be surprised to find it dead with claws marks, and chewed wires.” Bucky’s steel gaze that bored into Sam’s soul, spoke volumes of distain.

“You will do no such thing! You keep your furry menace away from my child!” Sam roared, extending a threatening finger at Bucky, his brown face turning a shade of slight burgundy as his face flushed with rage.

Sweetly petting Redwing on it’s head, whispering assurances that no act on it’s life will occur.

“Then tell your kid to stop baderging me in the morning!”

“It’s not his fault, you’re a grumpy old man!”

“Shut up!”

“At least, my son is just playing around! What about Alphine?! She’s an attention-seeking hog, and always fucking with everybody. But the moment you or y/n walk through the door, she’s a little angel! Her grimy little paws behind her back! Your kid is indeed a menace!” Sam’s sneered as he protectively held Redwing against his chest.

“You take that back! She’s a good girl!” Bucky’s stood up from his chair, ready to fight. His Alphine? An angel! His sweet little princess!

Another heinous crime in Bucky’s books: don’t ever insult Alphine.

Sam and Bucky kept bickering back and forth, voices rising higher and higher. Tempers flying. Releasing their frustrations onto each other, insults hitting each other like bullets, but yet not a slight crack in their shield of friendship.

“Would you two stop it?” A sweet melodic voice rang through the two aggressive voices that dominated the area. Bucky’s head swiftly turned to see you standing at the kitchen entryway in all your glory.

Even with messy bed hair of your curls straying in different directions, in Bucky’s eyes the curls was voile and woven by baby cherubs. His mind going hay-wire with the mantra of mineminemine when he see his red Henley that was hanging over your shoulder, perky breasts bounce effortlessly against the fabric, and weary eyes — you glowed as if you had an halo.

As if diamonds and pearls were glimmering underneath your pores — illuminating a shimmering bronze complexion.

“Good morning, doll.” A genuine smile curled on Bucky’s dreary mug, hightlighting. Dashing and wrapping his biceps around your waist, softly kissing you, instinctively you ensnared your forearms around his neck, clinging onto him like a life-line. A small whimper erupted in the back of his throat.

This is what he needs. To stay in today, and crawl in bed with you, and be as one. Craft a makeshift of the walls of a womb, limbs entangled, inhaling breaths, lulled by synchronized heartbeats.

“Good morning, doll.” Sam mocking Bucky’s endearment in a lower octave, a poor imitation,garning a low snarl from Bucky.

“Stop it you two. It’s too early for this shit.” You sighed, eyes closed, as you basked in Bucky’s natural sweet musky and mint scent. Rubbing your nose in his broad chest.

Both of you tuning out Sam slamming the refrigerator door as he scoured for ingredients, and clanging his pan on the stove to prepare his breakfast.

Bucky grumbled incoherent colorful hexes as he gingerly placed chaste kisses against your hairline. Sniffing your hair, needing to scent you like a wolf to gather his bearings.

You giggled at the breathy pecks, refusing to let you go, such a possessive teddy bear he is.

“Jesus, he can’t function without you.” Sam chided, as he cracked eggs into the sizzling pan, wordlessly Bucky buried his face into your curls, to prevent giving Sam a good old fashion tongue-lashing.

“Sam, knock it off. Just because you’re angry, doesn’t mean you have to bother Bucky.” A grin stretched on Bucky’s bearded jaw. His best girl always defending him.

“Nah, he’s insulted Redwing. Made my boy feel bad, remember I can feel everything he feels. And right now? He ain’t feeling all to happy.”

Chest puffed, demonstrating an angry father protecting his metallic pup, “Barnes needs to apologize!”

Softly tugged at the long hair at the nape of Bucky’s neck, Bucky whines from being detached from your hair, sternly gazing into his blue-grey pools, “Baby, what did you say?”

Guilt floods him, he didn’t mean it, he’s just — angry! “I said I would get Alphine to hurt Redwing—”

“Threats of claws and wire chewing!”

Bucky winced, “But he said Alphine was an attention hog! That’s she a menace! Our little one isn’t that!” Bucky whined. You had to stifle a laugh, oh for sure, Sam is right on the money.

Alphine is a spoiled brat, but it’s still wrong. She’s a good girl when she wants to be.

“First Bucky apologize to Redwing, and Sam—” your eyes shift to look beyond Bucky’s broad shoulder, to see Sam rolling his eyes, “Apologize to Bucky.”

Both men grumble like over-grown toddlers, “Fine.” Bucky yields, “Alright.” Sam caves in. Bucky reluctantly turns his body to face Sam, “I’m sorry Sam and Redwing. I didn’t mean what I said. Redwing isn’t bad.” Bucky looked to the metal bird, genuinely apologetic.

“I’m sorry too. Alphine isn’t a menace.” Sam mumbled, resuming to petting Redwing. “Okay, good. Now that we’re back to friends, let’s have some breakfast.” You faux cheery tone set a serene atmosphere.

Redwing flew and circled around you, chirping a hello. You blew a kiss to the empathic companion, as it took it’s rightful place back on Sam’s shoulder.

Bucky resumed back to his seat, to mull over his coffee, and Sam back to continue to prepare his omelette, wordlessly.

You smirked as you snaked your way to hug Bucky from behind. A chaste kiss on his temple, a shiver crawling down his spine.

Your nimble fingers found refugee in Bucky’s long waves, massaging his scalp by the pads of your tips.

His lashes fluttered closed, savoring your touch. “Yes, doll. Just like that.” His head hung backwards, his chiseled face facing you.

You placed a lingering kiss on his forehead, as you didn’t relent your soothing kneading. A broken moan escaped Bucky, not caring that his grunt was near close to the spectrum of pornographic.

Sam nearly vomited over his sizzling eggs, “Ew, both of you knock it off.”

“Oh shut it, Foghorn.” You muttered, plump lips inches away against Bucky’s forehead. Painting silver-toned kisses on his smooth skin, Bucky snorted.

“Son, I say – I say, ah he’s about as sharp as a bowling ball.” Bucky’s sardonic jeering guised under a over-extragerated southern accent making you both burst into fits of laughter. A pissing on the iconic cartoonish rooster. He open his eyes, as you two laughed, Bucky just adores your cute giggles. How your nose scrunches upward.

“Oh ha, ha, ha. You both are assholes.” Sam grunted, as he thrusted his spatula in the pan to fold his omelette.

“We made a funny son and you’re not laughin’ ”, you participated in the wisecracking, in an nasally southern belle accent, quoting the famous rooster.

“Knock it off.” Sam murmured, his eyes lowered, throwing daggers at the cackling couple. The chuckles died down, “Alright, alright, we’re sorry, Sam.” You fluttered your eyes at Sam, “You know I adore Falcons.” You delicately plant your chin on Bucky’s dome, as he repositions his head.

“I prefer Hawks.” Bucky’s kvetch crawls under Sam’s skin, “Hey!” He shouted, “Enough!” You chuckled, stoping anymore childish fights.

“I need more coffee to handle him.” Bucky spoke as he gulped down the rest of his caffeine’s beverage. You took the mug from him, “I’ll get you more, baby.” Twisting your head to his side-profile, you meshed your lips on his.

Bucky has a small goofy grin, “Thank you, doll.”

Sam finally finished with his breakfast preparations, sat at the island far away from Bucky, you quickly replaced his silver-ware with a plastic fork and knife.

No stabbing at this early hour.

One incident of an injured bird, and wolf was enough.

“I have a rising suspension that this isn’t your first cup this morning” you peered over your shoulder, to see Bucky just hazily staring at you, chin leaning on the heel of his palm.

He hummed in response, “Not even close, doll.”

“I can tell, you’re a little grumpy today. Although, I don’t want you strung out on caffeine just so you won’t rip someone’s head off.” The steam of black coffee wafts in the air, as it poured and slushed in the coffee maker.

Bucky fussed, “You know I’m not a particularly happy fella, doll.”

“Well, I just want my man to be happy.” The coffee-maker dinged, signaling the coffee was finished. Quickly taking the pot out to pour the hot steaming blackness into the cup, and making your way to Bucky.

“And if it means, making you a shit-ton of coffee, just to get you to crack a smile, so be it.” A toothy smile winked at Bucky, your shiny oval-arlyic nails scratched behind Bucky’s ear — his sweet spot.

It took all his strength and restraint in his body not to take you right there in the kitchen,

“I’m not sure how many coffees it takes to be happy, but so far, it’s not twelve.” Bucky lifted the cup to his pink lips, his eyebrows wiggled at you jokingly. Sam choked on his chewed eggs, drinking water to wash down the food that traveled down the wrong pipe.

“Jesus, Buck —” cough. “Twelve?!” Sam was patting down his lips with his napkin, “I would crawling up the walls by now like a crackhead.”

You snorted, bent over, lowering your lips to Bucky’s ear, salutary and husky, “I wish you had me crawling up the walls, babe.” It was now Bucky’s turn to choke, narrowing his eyes to you, “Don’t start something you can’t finish, doll.”

“I’m not doing anything.” Your hands innocently in surrounder, defensely, “I’m behaving.” Your coy smirk said differently.

A debauched moan grumbled in Bucky’s thoart, “You know what — fuck work today, I’m gonna have you front, side-ways, and the back. All damn day. Now that put a fucking smile on my face.” Bucky stood up from his seat, his intimating stature hovering over you.

Sam’s arms flew in the air in defeat, bile rising in his throat to the mental picture of two of his closest friends having cotious.

“We eat here.” He whispered under his breath, very aware of Bucky being able to hear him crystal clear.

You shuddered, “Really ... ? How about we start to have sex right here, right now?” You sunk your nails against his chest, trailing down his torso. Bouncing on the tips of your toes, to kitty lick the tip of Bucky’s nose.

“NO! Why do you two get off torturing me?! Go fuck in your room, you heathens!” Sam roared, picking up his empty plate to clean in his sink, Redwing chirped in agreement.

“Twah, poor baby.” You lean over, after jokingly leering at the birdman, stepping forward to Bucky. Tilting your head up to him, his natural body heart buzzing over you, pressing your lips to his, meeting you half-way.

“C’mon angel, let’s get back to bed.” Bucky mumbled against your lips, softsoftsoft, so this is what love feels like. As if his soul had a million suns radiating in his cavity, circling around his heart like fiery orbs. Happiness stretching like the milky way, interstellar clouds of dust decorating in his hues, grey-blue of spiral galaxies of adoration beam right back at you.

To be touched — to be loved.

Bucky linked his calloused fingers in yours, you loved the contrast your bodily textures. Bucky was soft buried underneath hardened shields of battles and trauma. You love to trace his scars – the scarrings of an old soul.

Bucky and yourself practically skipped out of the kitchen, with not so much of a goodbye to Sam.

No offense taken, he knows he’ll see the two soulmates later. A little frustrated that he’ll be training recruits solo today, but what can he do? Love cannot be stopped.

Sam snickered, happy that those two are happy and care-free. “Look at those lovebirds, Redwing. Ah, our favorite type of birds.”

-

tags: just tagging my favorite writers and mutuals who inspire me and had the pleasure of talking to:

@darkficsyouneveraskedfor @helahades @cake-writes @nacho-bucky @cherrypickertheory @sinner-as-saint @imanuglywombat @bugsbucky @romantic-barnes @speechlessxx @honeybucks @cherienymphe @venusbarnes @wkemeup @simsadventures @invisibleanonymousmonsters @ozarkthedog @sebbybarness @avintagekiss24 @wiensrsoldier @all1e23 @xetoilerouge @et-lesailes @spacesnail3000 @moonbeambucky @buckyskorpion @buckysknifecollection @buckys-darling @sapphirescrolls @bitsandbobsandstuff @extremelyblackandwhite @scrumptious-delusion @until-we-fall-in-love @fafulous @rogueobservation @your-persephone-writes @sophiria @cpn-hydra @browngirlmagic @jobean12-blog @carolmaximoffs @caws5749 @marvelcapsicle @star-spangled-beard-burn @missmonsters2 @xbuchananbarnes @captain-kelli @fvckingavengers @suz-123 @redgillan (there’s much more I wanted to add but I couldn’t fit more in, lol!)

[lost-carcosa]

Front page of today's Daily Star (13 Feb 2025)

Grown-up spotted in White House!

The four-year-old nose-picking son of car salesman elon musk has brought some much needed dignity and gravitas to donald trump's mad as a box of frogs government.

[punkandsnacks]

Between Wolves & Doves, Chapter Three; Hunger.

Author: @punk-in-docs​ & @adamsnackdriver​

Also on AO3-

Trigger Warnings: !!! Violence and gore in this chapter !!! As-well as stalking, dub con and mentions of attempted sexual assault. Hungry horny vampires gotta eat somehow right?

Synopsis: Vampire!Kylo x OC love story. Inspired by BBC’s Dracula. Also inspired by Austen’s Pride & Prejudice.

He’s been stalking this earth long since civilizations can possibly fathom. Before records even began. He sneers at the fact that this pitiful young world has only just begun to see his reign of it.

He’s dined with moguls, emperors, princes. He’s consorted with bloodthirsty ruthless Queens in their courts, and whispered into the ears of powerful King’s, whose names still echo through millennia.

In his myriad of centuries gifted to his immortal self he’s been many many things. He’s been a lowly pauper. A crusading knight. An assassin. A sell sword. A soldier. A wanderer. A simpering suitor and a voracious unyielding lover. Aimlessly lost in time- besieging this earth. Ripping it apart and drinking what’s left.

He was made in the hinterland between snow and dirt and pine trees. Crusted with ash and blood and gouged from battle. Born anew. Sired from the hell-mouth of war. He was made in 789 AD.

He’ll come undone, one bitter winter night, in England, in 1816.

~ ~ 🥀  ~ ~

When the coach door enclosed him in darkness and silence at the end of the evening, he tosses his head back to the scarlet velvet wall behind him and sighs out a deep releasing exhale. One of gladness.

 It felt like the most cleansing breath he’d taken all damned evening.

 Polite society hereabouts was exhausting- he rather preferred the one of years past.

 The coach lurches away. Hooves clip on the icy midnight road, splashed in watery silver moonlight and mushed grey snow.

 He listens to the glorious sound of his driver steering the horses to take him away from that stuffy ballroom and all its conceited occupants.

 His body rattles and shifts on the softness of the upholstered bench with the rickety rumbling and turning of the carriage wheels. He lets it ground his restless temper.

 He tries to recall the differences of when he last stepped foot on this island. What he’d said to Miss Ashton was no incorrect lie. He hadn’t been on these shores in an age. Not in 600 years atleast-

 The last time he was here was during the crusades.

 Everything was truly different in comparison. Back then he’d donned a hauberk chain-mail coat, with a conical helmet and a kite shield. He’d come here armed with only a horse, a long bow, a lance and his mail armour.

 He’d been a Knight back then. In the third crusade of 1189. Fighting under the blood soaked banner of an Christian king to reclaim the Holy Land from a Sultan. He forgets the kings name, theres been so many he’s served. The lionhearted one perhaps? Faces and names of mere humans fade back into his mind like fog.

 He’s seen so many lives begin and end. Even kings fade eventually. Too many mortals to list.

 He remembers how hospitality and society was vastly different then. It was peasants and lords. Not all these lords, and dukes and earls and titles.

 He recalls the wide unpolluted pure of cobalt sky and meadows of yellow daffodil flowers stretching on for miles. The kiss of their innocent nectar in the air. Exotic new spices, cloves and saffron and salt, animal sweat, dung, and musky furs and hides.

 Salt of the earth humble houses were squat little wood straw huts. Dominated by the reaching slanted cold shadows, that came from the immensity of the rich grey-stoned castles.

 People revered one God and their masters. Kylo was a knight. He was as good as both.

 He has memories of great fine feasts with roast suckling pigs or boars turning on the great hall spit over the fire. The glaze of flame crackled pork skin and the dirt of ash. He recalls to this very day the sweet honey spice of mead on his tongue.

 He remembers gorging himself on that honey-wine and devouring still bleeding slices of roast venison. That juicy ichor dripped down his chin. He ate meat off the bone like a starved dog. Drank flagon after flagon of barley ale to celebrate war and shedding the blood of the infidels.

 He’d greedily dined with the Lords at their courts, scarfed down their hospitality like a beast. Then he’d gone and ripped apart a peasant or two in the forest afterwards.

 Blood pulsing with matter and protein, and stomach groaning full with wine and blood. The next day when they found the decimated bodies they blamed the innocent deaths on the wolves. How appropriate-

 He can remember this country in the spark of its infancy. He was there to see it born.

 He was in Runnymede in Surrey in 1215, outside the fringes of the very room, watching, as the band of feuding Baron’s made the unruly King sign the Magna Carta. The cornerstone of British law. The first time a higher power was held accountable.

 And now look at the pitiful state of it-

 He’d been in the ballroom tonight of this grand house when those higher powers had sneered at his choice of footwear behind their snifters of French brandy and their fans. Foppish young ladies and men and all ignorant as to their place in the world they think they improve.

 He was there at the very inception of all the powers and laws these vapid people obsess and fuss over. The one that gave all those preening lords and ladies their cursed little country and their dignity.

 Maybe if he were a nicer, more patient man he could settle for people flattering him and wheedling him with idle compliments at every turn. Maybe if he were more vain, and knew his own handsomeness, he could accept those honeyed words. The sickly ones that rotted in his ears. If he was like them he could indulge their meaning.

 He’s not like them. He never will be. And he’s glad of it.

 He’s older. Laughably older. He’s a warrior. He’s seen every facet of life and history and war imaginable. And they are all nothing but specs of insignificant dust to him.

 They think they matter, when all they do is fuck and breed and drink and dance. They marry well, and produce offspring to hold up their fetid titles, and stately homes. Then they die. And the next generation begins the same thing all over.

 Some of those ignorant men tonight had the sheer nerve and effrontery to sneer up at him. Thinking he was so foreign and unfamiliar that he wouldn’t find the insult in their sniping adulations. The way they dug at his incorrect attire, his gloves, his boots. His dark clothing and his longer unfashionable hair.

 Were he in a less forgiving mood he would have snapped a few necks in that room tonight. Stopped a few hearts from beating by breaking the ribcage open and reaching in with his bare hands.

 He could’ve- it was vastly too tempting. But he had to assimilate to this petty crowd and open bloodshed wasn’t the way to do so. He has to remember rules and politesses about where to stand and what to discuss. It’s infuriating-

 He reaches a leathered hand to his neck and yanks open his neatly tied cravat. Jerking it lose from his neck so he could take a damn breath. Shoves the tie pin from it deep in his pocket.

 Irritation pounds at his temples reminiscent of a headache; his throat is crackling and sore-dry.

 He’s imbibed many glasses of Portuguese port and piddly French red wine. The crushed grape of its taste still sits on the back of his tongue and it’s simply not enough.

 He needs to feed-

 Aching to feel the blushing heat of it drool down his chin. Frothy pink where it blends with his drooling mouth.

 He’s been hungry ever since Miss Ashton crossed his path that very afternoon. Her blooming innocent scent unfolded for him like the rarest flower.

 That lavender oil and clary sage essence of her fragrance. He likes her eyes. So shy and soft. Grey like Howlite.

 People say they couldn’t see beauty in pale eyes but he very much disagrees. Pale. Like the pearled moon, like clouded open skies. Like the gentle purity of creamy rose petals.

 That girl he glimpsed tonight was shades away from the shy creature he saw walking along a pale road. With a crease of concern on her brow.

 Arms and hands aching with strain and numb from her labours and holding that basket.

 Even in her ill fitting coat and her cracked shoes and worn dress he’d seen more of her. More of her obvious true beauty.

 Her hair this afternoon was riotous and wild and he so likes wild things.

 Tonight she’d been trussed up, and decorated and tamed in a flimsy silk gown and made to look like every other girl donned in their best. To parade in the ballroom like a swan showing off its feathers.

 Or like a snowy little dove-

 He smiles to himself. Time was - back in some far less strict age - he’d have cleverly concocted some excuse to get her alone at that ball tonight.

 A darkened room for a lovers tryst. A room out of use and earshot of everyone where he could be her lover just for the night. Where he could kiss her senseless. Sate the craving.

 Crowd her to the wall of some parlour, tear those silly slippers off. Rip those papery silk skirts right up the middle. Make her cry out in pleasure on his cock. Make her thighs shake with rapture that makes her sweet core drip right down to the insides of her stockinged knees.

 He’d feed on her too. Oh, he’d make a feast of her. Make her last.

 The little delicate morsel she was. What a mouthful. He’d mouth everywhere. Her gorgeous breasts, her neck, devour between her thighs at a place where he’s certain no other man has ever been.

 Shove his muzzle in her neck and lick the sweat off her soaped salt skin. Taste that awful cloying fragrance she put on. Growl at her that she should never bother with scent again to entice him. He didn’t want the citrus rot of perfumery and flowers.

 He wanted her. Her bare skin. He wanted the clean pure innocence he smelt off her from his carriage that afternoon. Her skin. Body. Her unguarded neck.

 He’d bite and suck and feed. He’d feed as they are joined as one with him slipped up inside her. And he’d happily watch that white white dress turn crimson garnet.

 He damns civility. He growls and tears the infernal cravat right off his neck. Not only is he raging hungry, but he’s now got an appetite for things that just blood won’t sate.

 His appetites for Miss Ashton.

 He balls up the cloth of his cravat and shoves his deep in his coat pocket. His shirt neck now gapes wide open. Down is pecs. Almost to his chest. Baring him to the cold that he’s too deadened and numb to feel.

 When the coach bumps over a rickety track in the road, he gazes out the window, feeling the chilled glass brush his icy hands. Even through his thick skinned leather gloves. Lined with silken rabbit fur. An irony when his hands were ones that didn’t even need keeping warm.

 He peers out the tiny icy slither of the window pane in the door. See’s that they are now heading through some tiny hamlet. One far from home. Somewhere quiet where there’s a quaint roadside tavern under the heavy bruising of a night sky.

 A run down roadside coaching inn by the looks of the squat old building wedged into the earth, compressed under a heavy blanketing snow. The roof sags in the middle. There’s tiles missing. A wonky chimney which coughs and chokes out little smoke.

 The crusty paint peeling sign above the door announces it’s called ‘The Horse & Wagon’ In faded wheat gold paint. He sees the small square spits of Tudor windows to the front are glowing with candles and many men are crushed within. Drinking away their riches. Or drowning their sorrows. Escaping their nagging wives or their crying children. Getting away from the responsibility of all the hungry mouths they had to feed.

 He pounds a big rattling fist once on the carriage roof. Careful not to plough his ravened fist through the wood. He could tear it apart like brittle match wood if he wanted.

 The coach shudders, whip cracks, horses whinny and snort in protest. Kylo wets his lips and climbs out down the coach.

 “Going in for a drink. Don’t wait on me.” He instructs. His driver tips his hat and the carriage churns up wet and muddy snow as it lurches away.

 He strides to the warped door and shoves it open. Creaky and shuddering old thing. The aroma of the dingy place hits him like being cut down by stampeding stallion.

 The decay of sweat. The heat and filth of working men. Body odours. Stale ale and musty unclean floors.

 His heavy treads from his expensive boots skid on the muck lining the grey flagstones as he steps in. As tall as the door, and more so, he had to stoop to get in. His shoulders too wide for the tiny door.

 The bar is crowded with labourers and farm hands. They have their backs turned to him. But the miserable portly barman assesses Kylo with offence and derision as he comes in. With his probable educated accent and his fine clothes.

 This was normal men’s refuge from their masters or the fine men and lords they serve. The scowl on the tubby mans face tells kylo this.

 In a previous life, any man looking with such open derision at his lord and master rightfully entitled them to be pilloried for a month, or flogged until he can’t stand, Kylo thinks.

 He looks around the dismal offering of this atmosphere. Settles on a table in the mouldy walled corner. Damp dripping from the sagging ceiling over the exposed stone.

 The tables are wonky chunky oak ones. The only light in the place are from melted and misshapen candles in brass black stands on each uncleaned table. Kylo sits with a full vantage of the bar. Next to the fireplace. Soot and ash spewed all over the floor. Crunching and crushed under his boots.

 A waify little barmaid appears in a dirty donkey-brown wool dress. Her hair the shade of red rust scraped back off her face in a low bun. Stained chemise under her rumpled dress.

 She still had the flush of youth in her cheeks. The baby-weight of it on her face too. She was still a girl and yet she had to work serving the foul pigs in here. He pities the poor thing. She couldn’t have been more than fourteen. And he knew men lost to drink could turn truly vile.

 “Serve the gentleman, Maggie.” The miserable barkeep growls. She does as she’s bid. The way he says ‘gentleman’ was as if the word turns his stomach.

 Kylo’s sat in shadow in his corner. Fully confident the girl can’t see him. Doubtless she’s had to approach more rowdy awful men than him. She doesn’t seem scared. Why should she be? She doesn’t know she’s approaching a man who’s scarier than all the rowdy and randy drunk men she’s seen, put together.

 She focuses her innocent little brown eyes at him. He sees the flush on her cheeks. And the dew of labour on her chest. There were splashes of drink sullying her crumpled linen chemise sleeves. She’s soaked in sweat and smells of drink and dirt. “What can I get you, sir?” She asks. Her accent was low born.

 “Ale.” Kylo asks for. All the alcohol this place would serve is spirits or beer. No cordials, port or madeira to be found in here. This isn’t the place for that. This is the place to get drunk quick - he hopes.

 She nods and scampers back over to the bar. She brings him back a filthy tankard of ale that he doesn’t even dare touch.

 He reaches his pocket and gives her two silver shillings. She turns away but he stops her by grabbing her wrist. Bones grate under his leather palm. Turning back she looks afraid.

 “Please, sir-“ She tries to protest.

 Kylo reaches out again and puts three crown coins in her hand. She looks at him with surprised wet eyes. Bordering on offence at his insinuation. This was an inn. There were rooms upstairs- she thought he wished to buy her time.

 “Nothing like that.” Kylo assures her with a cross frown. He prefers his partners willing. Not paid.

 “That’s for you and your family.” He nods to the bar. “Not for him.” He states firmly.

 She smiles and quickly pockets the coins. He likes travelling with coins in his coat. Knowing what he could idly spare to a deserving soul could feed a family in reduced circumstances, for an entire week.

 She walks away happily from his table. He slouches back in the shadows again.

 He lets the fetid ale sit in front of him and suffers this putrid place so that his dinner might show itself soon.

 He listens to the men cackle, hacking booming laughs, share stories and jokes, and drink and stoutly ignore him. Which is what he wanted. He planned for that. It always serves him and his appetite well.

 He waits and watches. As any good hunter does. And he’s one of the top predators stalking this earth-

 He was the second vampire ever made. The only devil worse than him is the one who made him. And the only one Kylo’s maker bows down to, is the original demon himself who bought them all into creation. The one who fell from heaven.

 He continues his waiting game.

 Eyes slipping over every man. Watching them imbibe. Watching the sense drain from their thick heads. Watching. Looking. Searching. Wondering who who who it will be.

 He doesn’t have to prey for very long. He never had to in filthy, discarded and squalid places like these.

 Kylo’s eyes zip to the bar where some letching man now has his hands tugging at the bar maids skirts and trying to get her in his lap.

 The assailant was young. Not very handsome. Ruddy faced. Tanned. A farm hand at his best guess. Broad backed with a square jaw and wheaten hair. Kylo leans forwards in his chair. Eyes churning. Stomach calling.

 She wrenches her skirts away from him and gives him a stout slap across the face. Before scurrying away scared, heading out the door at the back to fetch the things her boss barked at for her to go get.

 His friends all jeered and laughed and told him he got what was owing to him.  A red welt spreading across his face.

 Kylo’s stomach knots up in anticipation.

 The affronted farm hand sloshes down his pint. And starts after the girls retreat. Kylo slips out the front door with a smirk. And a belly full of rage.

 His feet crunch on the snow. Where he stands. He rips his gloves off and shoves them in his pocket. He’s a feeling he’ll need his bare hands soon. Nails already growing sharper. The promise of a hunt hangs in the air. 

 He slips around the side of the tavern. To the ale barrel store out back. He’s nearly there to the out sheds when he hears it. The crack of a slap harshly ringing the air, whimpers. Gasps of pain. Pairs of feet shifting in the snow.

 He rounds the corner. Silent as his shadow trailing behind him.

 He sees the farm hand with his hand over the girls mouth. Crushing her to the tavern wall by the back door. Hidden by the barrels, boxes and crates stacked all around. He’s trying to stuff his hand up her skirts again.

 “Give us a kiss, lass. You know you want to-“ He smirks.

 Hunched over the poor girl. Leering at her. Snarling that no one makes a fool out of him. Her eyes are so wide and terrified. Whites of them and sticky in the dark night air, like pearls.

 Kylo can’t stop the low growl slipping from his throat. The natural part of him- the animal- slipping free.

 He marches over with his blood raging fury through his body. Temples pulsing with strain and need. He fists a hand in the boys collar and yanks him back, slamming him up into the wall instead. See how he likes it.

 He holds with death. He doesn’t hold with rape.

 Not in any sense. Not to young girls with their whole lives ahead. He was born and bred in a time when women were revered as highly as men. They were treated and respected as equal. Not handled and oppressed, bred and showcased and sold like livestock.

 He turns the letch to face him. Marvels in the scared screams that come from his mouth. He likes hearing how horrible he is in his most feral state.

 His eyes are glowing gold now. Golder than coin. Golder than sun and wheat and everything precious.

 Only he looks terrifying. Gold eyes. Edges rimmed with raw red.

 The girl cowers on the snowy floor next to them. Tears streaming down her innocence puppyish face. One cheek reddened by a slap from a harsh hand. Kylo looks down at her. The farm hands feet dangled high off the floor, kicking at him.

 “Run along girl. Go home.” Kylo warns. Looking down at her. She scrambled back and heaved herself up to stand on shaking legs. 

 “W-What are you gonna do with him?” She asks. Edging away down the wall.

 “You don’t wish to know.” Kylo smiles squeezes the guys throat. Spit splutters out his mouth. He gurgles on his shouts of terror.

 She scarpers away in the snow. It clings powdery wet to her skirts and she run’s around the building and off into the dark. He’s not worried for her safety now. She won’t encounter a more dangerous creature than him out there tonight.

 The man before him whimpers. Kylo rakes his eyes over his face. Rubs his thumb along the pulsing jugular in his neck. His sharp nails quickly piercing the skin. Notes of hot sweet copper and pennies bloom up in the air.

 “Please. D-Don’t hurt me please-please sir.” He begs.

 Why do people think begging will save them? Like any amount simple pleading will keep them from harm. It won’t even scratch the surface.

 “I’m giving you a little taste of how scared that girl was when you followed her out here. Not very palatable is it? You beat her with your bare hands. You caused her pain. She suffered you. Now you’ll suffer me...”

 “And I will make sure it hurts.” Kylo’s promising with mirth in a savage whisper.

 When he smiles there are two glimmering sharp fangs where his pointed canines used to sit. Gleaming wet in the light. The farm hands eyes are shrieking with fear.

 Kylo strikes quickly and cleanly. Hands fisted into this grubby workers clothes. He growls as his teeth sink and he tears through the flesh like the skin is no more to him than wet paper being gouged at by knives.

 He groans as he drinks. Laps it down. As the hot viscous filled his mouth and slid warm down his throat to his belly like a trail of fire.

 His blood tasted of apples and coins. Sharp and bronzy bitter.

 Kylo can feel it smeared over his mouth. Slipping down his chin. Onto his chest and staining his open shirt. He’s crushing the man’s windpipe in his free hand. The other planted to the wall. He feels the wretch twitch and sag under his hands as he slowly eats away his life.

 The part he always likes the best- when the fight drains away and the muscles loosen. And everything unwinds. That’s when the blood comes quicker. Thicker. Less of it being pumped around a panicked body.

 There’s no panic anymore. There’s nothing. Not even life.

 He greedy with meals. He drinks until he’s had his fill and his appetite is about as large as his body.

 He feasts until blood is staining his hands. His chest. And smudged all across his chin. He even saw some drop on his boots. His teeth are stained crimson and his belly heavy with the bliss of being so full. He hadn’t fed since he arrived here. It’s nectar euphoria flushing into his blood.

 When he’s had enough. He easily drags the bloodless corpse away from the tavern.

 Discards his useless body in a nearby icy ditch at the side of the road. He reeked of Gin. And Kylo thinks it a fitting end that it looks like the drunkard stumbled into the path of an oncoming carriage and got torn and crushed to bits under the wheels.

 He kicks snow over him and leaves. Sucking the blood off his fingers as he walks.

 He’s not sure how or why. But he finds himself knowing to head through the woods. The opposite route to home. Trekking through snow in his leather boots. Forest and ice brushing at his wool jacket shoulders from the low hanging branches in the trees. Wisps of snow land in his hair. Floating all around and catching on every gnarled bark of each tree.

 He finds he ends up in the oddest of places. Westwell manor.

 He looks up at the large block of the Manor house. Gold brick. White sash windows. An ivy smothered roof. Cracked roof tiles that had seen better days, freckled in melting snow and moonlight. Just like the snowy gardens.

 He stands shaded under the old horse chestnut tree, and looks up to the one room, high up in the house. In the middle. There’s a candle glowing amber in the window. Turning the glass into a sheet of apricot cornelian standing stark in the bruised black night.

 He just wants a glimpse. He’s aching for it- he thought it was the bloodlust that pulled here. But perhaps he’s wrong- it’s deeper than all that feral nature.

 Just a glance. Just the one. Can’t hurt. It’ll help him make up his mind

 And there’s his little dove. Draped in a white nightgown. Sat in her window alcove.

 Up against the frosty glass with a shawl bundled around her shoulders. A novel cracked open and sloped in her lap. Her delicate face exposed by her hair. Now in that messy, freed arrangement. Tucked into a wild plait tied with beige muslin at the end. The nightgown it so big it slides off one pale shoulder.

 Kylo aches at the sight. His bones ring with wanting. Maybe this power is no more than desire.

 He shuts his eyes and he can smell her. Can imagine the simple taste of her hot skin on his tongue. Wants to feel his eyelashes kiss the crook of her neck as he does the same to her shoulder. Wants the drum of that pulse in his mouth. Is this desire? Or is it more?

 She turns the page and smiles a little reading the passage. He smiles too. As if they are linked. Already joined as one. It makes something stir in him.

 He softly whispers words that echo out into the frigid cold night. So only he can hear them “Sweet dreams, little dove.”

 Kylo’s not felt like this, or this strange pull of attraction in all his 1,027 years walking this earth. And now it’s here, she’s here-

 He wonders- 

 Maybe she doesn’t know it yet- he doesn’t fully know or understand it himself. They shared something like a deep connection as soon as their eyes met. He felt it. And he never usually feels things such as those. Not for another human.

 Kylo is in serious danger of outstaying his welcome- but he just wants to look at her. To admire her for a second longer. As openly as an astrologist studies the beauty and wonder of the moon. Perhaps he can make sense of all this.

 As Iris moves to close her book, blow out her candle and climb into her much cosier bed to warm her feet; she glances out the gardens, up past the pond and up at the bright cyclops of that pearly winter moon. 

She could’ve sworn she caught sight of a hulking man stood, looking up at her from under the chestnut tree. She blinks and rubs away the cold fog smeared on her window and there’s nothing there- idle trickery from her tired mind. 

He vows he will see her again; he’ll make sure if it. As he walks home in the cold night. Dripping dried blood and agitated with desire. He declares to himself that he will do everything in his power to uncover more. To make something sensible out of all this mess.

 After all. Kylo Ren is a creature of little patience. But this feeling, this situation. That is what he will patiently unpick. 

~ ~ 🥀  ~ ~

[c-atm]

Drive/Home:The path to you (Astral connection part 3)

  Connie looked outside of her window with a groan. She was feeling lonely and touch-starved. She hasn't seen Steven in the last two months, the last they met being their time in the dream...When he told of his visions of his mother. The last time they talked was a week after, a small sweet text with a little information about his next destination, though it had a typo..

‘Can’t wait to meet up again. I'll contact you when I reach my next destination; it's a beach tourist town. I'll pick you up there for your birthday. I love you, Dream Berry’

Connie sighed, a mixture of sadness and pining in the same breath.

“What a way to bring in my twentieth birthday.” She looked at the clock near her bed reading 12:30 am.She officially turned twenty, thirty minutes ago...More importantly to her, it was officially one year since Steven and her became ‘Dream buds’.

“Is he having second thoughts, regrets?”  

Connie has been wondering about this since for a couple of weeks...Within the dream they crafted, they acted like newlyweds. They talked intimately, sharing secrets no one else knew, like him no longer being a vegetarian and her getting a tattoo on her right inner thigh...A black and red star. 

They kissed each tenderly, passionately, and hungrily, in ways and places only they could. They touched each other in ways that only they could. They loved each other in ways special to them. He loved her in ways no other man or woman would ever be allowed to; an exchange of each other's last bit of mental and spiritual chastity. 

She was grateful it was through astral connection and not yet a physical one, or they might've been in trouble after the first few times.. She did start to take precautions in the physical plane, for when...If they did.

“What a way to wake from a dream though. Even more tired, but so much more...Everything else.”

His little carnal text of thank you’s and praise for her amorous nature, they were always the highlight of waking up after those types of nights. It was revitalizing to have him not just enjoy her more... Erotic side...but appreciate it; welcomed it. 

"Though Dreamscuit is more libidinous, than I expected." She let out a silent chuckle as she thought of one particular time they were carnivorous with each other.

The scene was a hidden spring he found on his travels, surrounded by tropical foliage and a waterfall spilling into it. He was in it, bare as birth, looking towards her who sat on the edge in her nightwear. The story of how he came across it was simple. 

He fell in after chasing down and poofing a falcon like gem mutant. The mutant was causing problems for a nearby cape town with its destructive  behavior, running through shops and breaking merchandise, ravaging the forest nearby, rampaging through the streets. He put an end to it after a chase through the forest, and a well placed shield bash after hitching a ride in its back. 

 He plummeted, as the falcon was already diving in attempt  to throw him off, leaving him flying down the path set for him. Which happened to be in the spring, he was slightly knocked out due to the force of entry. He stated he dreamed about her during that time...Always dreamed about her when he came here.

Her asking him to tell her his dreams sealed the deal as he swam over to her, innocently; placed his hands on her knees, innocently ; and suggested he showed her his dream; INNOCENTLY .  She agreed of course, it was her Innocent Dreamberry.

Which is why she was surprised when he examined her new tattoo thoroughly, through kneading, suckling and nipping. When he touched her  in ways and places she herself dreamed about., stealing her breath, making lay back as he revealed his fantasies through action..and unknowingly, allow  Connie to live out her own, in a manner of speaking. 

At the end, she sat upon him in the spring, peppering his neck and chin with kisses and nips as  he held and instinctively caressed her in away only her can. A way only she would allow him too. They were bare, bitten, bathed in sweat and spring water, and felt a bit bestial in their actions; but there were love with the lust, care with the carnality, romance with ravishing, solicitude with the sex. Their appetitive actions were fueled by their unyielding adoration for each other. It was wonderful..as was the three rounds after; they turned out to be quite the carnivorous couple.

"Couple..are we a couple?"

Small thoughts like that plagued her over the last two weeks, like an annoying bug that won't die and she couldn't stand herself for having them. Six weeks of complete Steven silence led her to uncertainty, over-worry, doubt. It brought thoughts of him being hurt, lost, in danger..even..

"No..He's ok..He's fine..much better than before he left on all fronts."

A calming thought that was compounded  by even worse ones...Her thoughts went from his well being to their new status and the possibility of him no longer seeing her like that. Maybe he found someone else he can be physically intimate with instead of just in a dreamscape? Maybe he found someone better to be with? Maybe he found a better life in the town he was going to..and didn't want to break her heart.

Is this what it was to miss your partner...your lover? Could they even say they were together.. Everything happened in their dreams. Besides fatigue nothing physical passed on.

" Maybe, I'm delusional and even sent those texts to myself." Connie laughed a harsh wet laugh as she laid on her bed. She was so pathetic right now. She knew better. She knows better.. She was just missing him..Badly.

"Get it together, Maheswaran...Just because  he's not around doesn't mean your world stops and everything you shared is moot. You went ten months without him and kept it together. Besides, you know your Biscuit, your Steven...Your man...Whatever  reason he's been silent, it's important."

Rationality and logic sucks sometimes...She did know Steven and because she knew him, she could reason that he going silent was probably  important...Yet stupid. He has a track record of ghosting people because he believes it's the right thing to do at the moment or he didn't want to burden someone..That thought just stroked her ire. She looked towards her phone and all the messages she sent him without a response..

"I'm gonna smother him next time we meet.. I swear to the stars."

 Just as she was about to send another text..A roar was heard outside her window. She turned to see Lion, by himself looking up expectantly, ready for his mistress to mount him. 

"Well, at least there is one dependable guy in my life." 

Connie smirked as she got her jacket, her sword and went to meet her current favorite boy in the whole universe. She kissed the beast skull as she nuzzled close to him. Who in turned nuzzled against  the crook of her neck before licking her cheek, making her giggle. She really could count on Lion to make her feel better.

"Why couldn't you be human, you'd be the best partner. Adorable, dependable, loyal, near ageless, able to teleport where you want..NOT LARS, but of course you have to be a lion, so I can only love you like a son." 

She mounted the pink beast, ready for wherever they were going. With a roar, Lion created a portal and the two were off.

"So where are you taking me this time, Lion. A meadow, a battlefield, a forest." She  chuckled as she held onto the beast. This wasn't the first time Lion took her out on a stroll alone. Far from it, this has been a common occurrence ever since Steven's surrender all them years ago. 

She was surprised to see them on the beach behind the temple..The place where she officially  met Steven. He bent down allowing her to mount off him. She turned to the sea rested her sword down and watched the serene waves as Lion gave her one last lick and nuzzle, before walking off...As he does on their 'dates', until the time he's needed. She sat pulling her knees to her chest as she took in the scent of the beach with her eyes closed.

The sand, surf and saltwater; his old smell, comforting as always...His smell now was a lot more woody, musty, musky. earthly..It was consuming, arousing and energizing… 

Thinking about it made her imagine him. His broad chest, large limbs,long locks, whiskered face, rugged face and strong let pleasant breath. She was so lost in her thoughts that they could literally feel his touch upon her.

 The fell of his arms holding her in that special way, around her middle and just above her chest.  His inner thighs brushing against her hips as he sat her on his crossed legs, the feel of his whiskered chin on  her collarbone. She could feel him, smell him.

"So this is what it means to be in love..  To long for someone so much that you can feel their presence even when they are not around. You're not even here..I don't know where you are, but I feel your touch, smell your scent... Isn't that stupid.,,"

"I wouldn't say that, Birthday Berry."

Connie's eyes opened up a husky, wine-like voice, as she looked up to Steven's smirking face. She looked past him for a moment before stretching out her hand to the left as flexing her fist.

"I..I'm not dreaming." 

"Oh."

"I was going to summon a wiffle bat and bash your head in."

"Ouch.."

" I can't...I can't see the edge of our scene...Cause it's not a scene… It's real..," 

Steven kissed her crown tenderly as her breath became short, her eyes moistened and her hands trembled as she reached up and touched his face. It was warm..much warmer than the last twelve months. They chuckled, giggled and laughed as the tears began to fall from both of them. Connie kissed his temple as they held each other closed. Silently whispering to each other affirmation after affirmation, that this moment was reality, he was there with her, she was there with him, they were holding, kissing basking in each other in reality.

 Connie turned towards him to hold her best friend and be held by him, before looking up. " Was it real?..Last year.. Those times..Was that really.." 

She never got to finish as he kissed her tenderly.. The same way he's done it for the last year..Except more chapped, more full, had more heat, softer, gentler..yet rugged. It was his kiss..just not as a dream and she melted for it all the same.

He broke it and looked at her before whispering in her ear about the spring. About what they did in the spring. About the bites, the sounds, the words..Her mark's on his back. About him paying so much attention to her star.

Connie gulped as she covered her face  in embarrassment.

"It was all real, Dream Berry. So to speak." He stroked her hair, as he reaffirmed last year.

Connie laid her head on his chest before taking  his hand in hers. "You're so big now."

"You've said that, almost every time we've met"

"Can't I admire your growth."

"Sure, as long as I can admire your own." 

Connie smirked impishly as she covered herself playfully. "These curves are for my partner and me only.."

"Isn't that me though."

Connie looked to the sea. "I thought so..I hoped so..then you went ghost...AgaIn." She looked towards him with a sadden glint in her eye.  "Two months, No contact.. What happened?"

Steven sighed, shame coming from the breath. "I did what I said I was going to. I came to a beach tourist town..I returned here, was here for a bit, maybe a night ..Before heading to Homeworld."

Connie listened intently as he told her of the last two months. How he paid a visit to Homeworld, where he experienced a galactic jamboree. From the consensus it was surprisingly a lot of fun compared to the last ones; now that era 3 was in full effect. He also found out that the diamonds were thinking about sending gems to other planets as diplomatic representatives in hope to find other ways to expand their race and ranks without harming another.

He told the Diamonds, Spinel, and Volleyball the truth about his mother's feelings for them. How she regretted everything she did to them and loved them all until her last second, despite everything that transpired. Told them everything she did to herself in their name as well. It was a bittersweet conversation  but it did put some things in perspective.

He was on Homeworld a month before heading back to the beach city, to the temple, to his family. He was surprised to see all six gems and his father waiting, expecting him to come out of the warp stream. They all stood silently for what seemed like an eternity. 

"I cried. I took a deep breath...I was going to say hi...Joke...Something...but I cried...We all cried."

Connie let use a chortle, wiping a tear herself. " Of course, you guys did. Not seeing each other for so long, seeing how everyone changed, must've been shocking. Wish I was there to see the reunion."

"If they hadn't ambushed me like that, you would've, I digress though.."

Steven continued his tale, speaking of his journeys across the earth, The same tales he told Connie. He was surprised at the changes of the gems.

 Pearl was giving relationships a chance with Sabina. Amethyst really took over as Little homeschool headmaster and even got Jasper in her staff, as a teacher in motivation.That made Steven pause for a moment, but he accepted it. Garnet was the vice headmaster of little Homeworld. Peridot, along with Bismuth, Pearl and Connie made little homeworld R&D, with Bismuth and Pearl acting as directors, as Peri still had her gardening classes to attend to and Connie had college.  Lapis took her art online and got exposure for some of their meep-morps. Lapis was on her way to becoming famous and Greg is managing her. Bismuth took her forging online and now has a following of 10 mill on tubetube. As for Greg,he was still his dear old dad...Just a little grayer.

After catching up, Steven sat them down in the living room before telling them about Rose quartz, and unlike with the diamonds and Spinel, he told them everything. Her travels, her self-hatred,  Sheva, the self-poofing...Everything.

"We've put a smaller version of her picture back on the living room desk. It's progress." 

"I take it, they were reeling from the revelation."

Steven nodded. "Garnet split to hold each other, Lapis and Peri consoled Bismuth, Dad and Pearl had each other."

"And Amethyst?"

"Amethyst...Actually took it well, better than anyone else."

Connie features softened at the prideful look on his face. 

"She took me to the side and asked me how I'm handling it. I told her that I was fine..Which I was and am..I came to terms with what she was and dealt with…How she dealt with them.."

His eyes glistened a bit as he held his head down thinking about Rose and how similar he was to her.

 "We had a nice one-on-one...Talked about how I was going down a similar path as mom. Starting to hate myself for not being needed, or able to help people...You know, things I told you."

  Connie nodded as she recalled one of their first dreams together. She remembered holding him as tearfully told her how he started to feel unfulfilled and useless again. After everything he went through to get better even seeing a therapist. He still felt the need to get away from everyone and everything related to the Crystal gems. He felt like he still needed to find himself..These were the reasons he left.

“After that..Amethyst asked when did I talk to you about this."

Connie eyes widened at the statement, trying to hide her shock through a smirk. " What?"

"She just figured it out. Said that I had a certain calmness and maturity, about everything. Said the only time I am like that is when I talk to you and mulled it over."

He took her hands in his and gave them a kiss. Connie squeezed them back.

"What did you tell her?"

"The truth...No need to keep it hidden…"

" Oh..And what truth is that?"

Connie smirked as he felt his lips upon hers, his thumbs massaging the back of her hands. His smell invigorating her senses… He broke the kiss but didn't pull away, nuzzling behind her ear giving her small nips. 

" Said I've been visiting my girl twice a month, for the last year."

"Hmm.. Except for the last two."

As Steven pulled away ready to apologize to Connie, when she placed her index on his lips, shaking her head as she did.

"Don't...You did nothing wrong. If anything, I should apologize...I wanted you to feel a bit bad for not contacting me, that's not how you treat your partner."

"Your partner, huh?" 

"I mean.." 

Her bashful side glance made him snort, which in turn made her cheeks flamed. "If you'd have me."

With amusement, Steven caressed her left cheek before drawing close. Nose tips touched as he looked into her deep black eyes. 

"Obviously. I am still under the assumption that today is our anniversary, as well as your birthday. Am I…"

"No!" Connie let a little stifled laugh at Steven's surprised face. Her heart was pounding against her chest, she found it hard to look at his eyes..she felt anxious, excited, and scared. "No. You're not wrong…I..I also thought of us as a couple since then...Though we never defined it, exactly."

"Dream-buds"

She smiled as she nuzzled into the stroking palm, kissing it. The moonlit ocean giving her eyes an fantastical glow. "We're not in a dream now, Dreamscuit."

His face turned pink and not from his gem. "And yet you're still calling me that.”

“Of course...You’re my Biscuit and a big piece of my dream for the future. Besides, you called me Dream Berry. Why is that?”

Steven licked his lips before letting his his hands rest on her hips and pulling her close...Trying to ignore how thin her nightwear was. She tilted her head slightly to the right as she saw a passionate light in his cool, almond eyes. 

“You know why..It’s the same reason as you to me.”

Connnie gave a teasing grin, before tracing his cheek and jaw. She kissed him lovingly, passionately, heartfully. Her loneliness and heartache over the two months, her regret and penance over doubting him for even a moment. Her swelling pride and carnal hunger for him, Her thankfulness and graciousness over his safe return. Her happiness and undaunting love for him. It was all displayed, all revealed to him in that kiss. 

Her kiss tenderness left him awe-struck, the depth; weak, the emotion; speechless.The touch left him trembling. His heart swelled and burst as he held her close by her back returning the kiss...The emotions  He felt rejuvenated, reborned, truly reformed .He felt as he truly returned home.

They broke the kiss, laughing with tears in their eyes. Words lost them as they wiped each other's eyes and gave each other chatse kisses.. It was a few moments before they relaxed, opting to hold each close. 

“I love you.��

Both their eyes widened at the dual confession,neither expecting it from the other first. Connie broke out of the stupor first, tackling him down to lay upon him. Her head on his chest  ear to heart.

“You are home with us, with me. After so long. It’s real…In the present.”

Steven held her close, left hand stroking her head, right arm around her waist. “Yeah..I’m finally home..Finally where I want to be.”

As he gaze down at her receiving a small yet illuminating grin. He couldn’t help but think that both their present and future never looked so brighter.

[thedropdeadhandsome]

Unexpected Visitor

Jaehyungparkian x Fem Reader (Fox hybrid)

Pt 2

Word count: 4k or something

Contents: fluff, nudity, humor, supernatural, sexual content, banter, jaehyungparkian

Summary: Basically the plot is about Jaehyungparkian discovering a fox in the cold outside, taking it home then in the morning freaked out over the Fox becoming a beautiful woman. This is all my original idea, please enjoy, sorry I can’t do the read more thing on mobile ☹️

(Words written in italic is the readers thoughts)

Laughter was filling up the room in which the group called Day6 occupied, even though it was raining outside you barely could hear the pitter pattering of the rain droplets hitting the windows, since the boys were so loud on the radio program they so happen to be guests on.

“Like i said before if Brian didn’t take all my lines in the song and focused on his own parts then the fans can hear my sexy voice and appreciated what real talent is” said the man with glasses known as Jae, wearing a shit eating smirk as those words left his lips, knowing he had triggered his band mate by that name.

While the others in the room started chuckling with laughter, some with tears slipping out, the one known as ‘Brian’ began to respond to Jae’s teasing “Eww Eww Eww” the male started “It’s Young K, say it with me Young K” he added while putting his large hand through his coloured hair.

Jae chuckled as he raised his hand pointing to Young K “You ain’t English Bro! You are B R I A N! Give up” Jae responded looking pleased with himself as he leaned back in his seat.

“No I’m Jae” Young k retorted as he kept his mouth shut having enough bickering.

With that the rest of the show went smoothly, a few teasing here and there, jokes mostly made by Jae towards Wonpil because he is such an easy target.

Meanwhile outside amongst the heavy rain and wild winds, people moving quickly to get indoors and warm up from the cold and wet weather. Boots splashing in the shallow puddings “god damn it!” You exhale annoyed as you continue walking along the foot paths with your big umbrella shielding you from the heavy rain outside, trying to shield your body more with the umbrella from the rain drops as you head towards your place.

“I hope the rain dies down, I can’t afford an unfortunate accident or changing into my fox form while I’m out here, damn weather man! I hope you got drenched” you muttered out loud furiously trying to keep yourself as dry as possible.

Passing a few more streets, ignoring some random men trying to use some cheesy pick up line on you, you finally made it to your apartment. Turning your body so the umbrella faced the street, shook off the water droplets before closing up the umbrella then entering the building, “thank you” you responded automatically as someone held the door out for you, making your way to the elevator doors and lucky getting in before they closed.

“Just in time” you thought as the elevator made its way up to the floor your apartment was on. Getting out of the elevator once reached your floor, taking out your keys, jingling of the keys as you put it in the keyhole, walking in once door was opened, taking the keys out, closing door with a push by your hip, placing umbrella in the stand, slowing removing jacket and hanging it up, removing boots and putting them in their spot.

Moving towards the living room, taking the remote into your hands and aiming it at the television as you press the button that turned it on “hmm no” switch channel “no” changes again, “okay” you smiled leaving the music channel on as it was playing an assortment of music from the 90’s to early 2000’s. Turning to face the window seeing lightning flashes by, shuddering unconsciously at the image “lucky I came inside when I did” you sighed, turning off the television before making your way out of the apartment to go check on the laundry you had drying in the dryer earlier.

Back at JYP building Young K looking at Jae slightly annoyed “Jae Hyung, could you please stop calling me Brian while we are doing interviews and stuff like that? My stage name is Young K, so use it” he said with a soft sighing trying to get his band mate to understand.

“Yeah sure, but you are Brian now and forever, I will never call you Young K because you aren’t Young K you are and forever Brian deal with it” Jae said back as Wonpil started fussing as Dowoon was busily looking for his drumsticks “Hyung! Have you seen my drumsticks?” He asked only looking in the same spot near his chair for five minutes.

At the bickering of the two older members that act more like children Sungjin’s eyebrow twitched, taking a deep breath “Jae Hyung, Young K please stop bickering you are acting like a married couple having a quarrel” he took a breath “and Dowoon you haven’t looked anywhere else beside the chair you’re seated at right? If I get up and find them, then I will scold you for not looking for them In the first place” he said irritated as he was dealing with Jin, Ken and Sandeul in the chat room wanting to catch up.

Dowoon trying to hold his gasp as he found his drumsticks on his drum kit, looking around trying to see if anyone notice, putting an finger to his lips as he made eye contact with Wonpil, Wonpil nods which Jae scoffed at Sungjin’s words, Young K checking the time and gathering his things.

“Alright, I’m heading home before the nasty storm hits” Young k spoke finally breaking the silence, “so am I” Jae added as he turned his phone off “Are you guys coming or have you got other plans?” he ask as he started getting his things.

“Nah, I got plans with Jin, Ken and Sandeul” Sungjin said as Dowoon sat on his seat “I’m going to practice for a bit then go visit my parents” Dowoon declares as Wonpil added “I’ll be with Dowoon”

Jae nods “ah okay, well see you guys later” he said as Young K left the room with him then began heading out into the rain with their jackets and umbrella’s on, walking straight to their home.

After putting the dry clothes away, you went down to the mailbox to get your mail, unfortunately since you have been stressed out due to work and personal life as well as the weather which doesn’t help, your body couldn’t take it and decided to switch to your fox form, an internally scream was made, sitting in the pile of your own clothes with your keys at your side “are your kidding me?” You thought as your body went into action to collect your belongings, to put them in a secret location so when you can turn back into your human form, you can collect your things and act like nothing has happened.

Exhaling sharply, looking around you decided to try and conceal yourself but you ended up tipping a potted plant over and getting yourself wet and dirty “why do I have to be stuck in this form?” Anger slightly filled you as you think about all the other times you changed forms which was such bad timing, Lucky this time it wasn’t at work or in the middle of a store or on the way home.

Leaning against the mess you created, you started feeling done with yourself when you heard two males talking and heading in your direction. Having to try and hide but you had no time until one male spotted you and looked completely shock as he tapped the other males shoulder before leaning down towards you.

“Don’t come near me!” You thought continuously as the male with the orange hair and beautiful eyes opened his mouth “hello little one, how did you get here?” Young k said as Jae smirked “you know it can’t talk Brian, so why try?” He said teasingly.

Young K sighed “I know that Jae, but the fox must be scared” he said, taking in the fact that the fox was wet, covered in dirt and the potted plant was all over the floor.

With a heavy sigh Jae began to tidy up the mess you made, making you very apologetic towards them for tidying up your mess. Without uttering another word, Young K scooped you up of course you tried to get out but he wouldn’t let you go “okay little fella, stay still we’ll take you some where warm” he spoke very sweetly displaying a breathtaking smile which made your stomach flip.

“I’m not a fella!” You thought “no don’t look at me like that” you add trying to stay still.

“I didn’t agree to this, but I guess it’s better then leaving it here and having someone take it to pet control” Jae added, carrying everything else as the two headed towards their apartment.

Once entering their apartment a very musky scent went through your noise making you shudder and curl up into the orange haired males chest.

“I got the lights” Jae said as he turned the lights on, both men removing their shoes, closing the door before they both looked at one another. “I’ll get this little one cleaned up and then i can start cooking” Young K discussed with Jae before the two went their separate ways.

Setting their belongings down where they belonged, Jae removed his jacket and dried his hair with his towel before turning the  tv on to hear the news, sighing at what the new reporters were saying “Yeah right! They should hire a new weatherman, he can’t do his job correctly, I call bullshit” he muttered while taking a seat on the couch before changing the channel to something more entertaining.

“Ah ah ah, no stay still” Young K said as he was washing your fur gently with warm water while you shake and try to get out of the tub. His hair with water droplets and his clothes slightly damp because of your persistence in shaking the water off you like a dog. “Come on sweetie? I can’t get you clean if you fight me” he said trying to negotiate with the fox, which was you.

“Why does he keep persisting? Can’t he just go so I can turn back? Honestly, who thought they would be in my apartment building” you thought as he picked you up and started drying you, walking over to Jae to set you down beside the glasses wearing male “alright, I’ll start cooking. Keep an eye on her, she seems to like to bolt” Young k said as he headed towards the kitchen to start preparing dinner.

“Of course Brian” Jae said sarcastically while doing a salute, looking down at you with a smile before finishing off the drying, not even questioning how he knew that you were a female.

When dinner came around it was easy to get you to eat as you decided to go along, since they will catch you if you run or fuss because you didn’t eat anything, and besides how could you refuse when both these men look at you so lovingly in your fox form.

“They’ll definitely never look at me like that once I become human again. We’ll go back to only acknowledging each other if we cross paths in the hallways” you thought letting a sigh out as you curled up on the couch as both men took turns showering and discussing things you weren’t interested in listening too.

The boys were trying to convince you to leave the couch but unfortunately you weren’t moving. “Come on, come with Brian to bed” the orange haired male said, the one with the glasses sighed after trying for fifteen minutes “seriously, if Sungjin finds her we are screwed though you could just grab her” he said causing Young K to roll his eyes “then go grab her Jae, if she bites you it is your own fault” he said smirking as he then left the light on knowing the others will be back and heading to bed after giving you one last look.

Leaning down to your level Jae looks at you closely “You are very stubborn fox but you can come to the room if you want, no rush” he said giving you a pat that made you annoyed yet happy that you leaned into his touch, he then went to the same room and kept the door open.

While you were out on the couch being stubborn, the two men sat on Young K’s bed making small talk. “It’ll be better if we stay here, she’ll come in here and then the others won’t know she was in the house” Young K said as Jae added “but why do I have to be here?, I know it’s easy so she won’t wander but I do have my own room” a sigh left Young K’s lips “you don’t want to be in the room with me? Fine, you miss out if she comes in here” he said pretending to sound offended which caused Jae to sigh and stay back “fine we wait” he said in agreement.

As the night went on a huge horrible noise made by the thunder sent you fleeing into the room the boys were in. As much as you hated being stuck in this form, the thunder was just to much for you to take. Getting into the bed which so happened to have both of the boys lying in it with the middle of the bed free just incase you came, “they are very sweet”. Getting closer to Young K as the thunder made another cracking noise which got you to make a whining noise as you curl into Young K’s chest while shaking slightly.

“There there, it’s okay” both boys say as they were in a light sleep while you were trying to get comfortable. You have no idea when or how you finally slept but you were completely grateful to have those two beside you while this bothersome weather continued to captivate the city, your only worry was how they’ll react when you return to your human form.

The next morning, the sun was starting to shine in the bedroom of Young K’s where the first to awaken was Jae, rubbing his eyes he slowly opened them before putting his glasses on, turning his head towards where Young K was when his eyes widen and covered his mouth. He was completely shocked to see a beautiful naked woman in the bed that was shared between the three of them, scratching his head slightly as he was sure they didn’t bring a woman back to the apartment, only the fox which wasn’t there anymore, then getting more confused by the fact that the woman was naked, “okay, firstly calm down and close the door so the others don’t come in” he said mostly to himself, getting up and closing and locking the door, sighing out in relief when he noticed he wasn’t naked so he didn’t have sex with her.

Returning back to the bed, his eyes scanned Young K to identify if he did anything which came back negative as Young K was still wearing clothes, he was sure neither of them would be having sex while the other slept in the same bed, talk about awkward let alone weird. Looking back at the woman resting, all Jae wanted to know was who she was and how did she get in here.

Fortunately god was listening to Jae’s silent prayers as you slowly turn your body towards him which got him flustered seeing you completely naked, your eyes slowly open as you slowly leaned on your elbows “Good morning” you spoken softly, getting flustered for being nude, trying to cover yourself with the bed sheet as much as you can. “I can see you got some questions for me?” you added as Jae nodded swallowing hard “yes I do, but I should probably get you a shirt” Jae said getting up trying to get up but fell over from his foot getting caught in the sheets, which got you to giggle which sent Jae into an even more flustered mess.

“Jae can you please stop making so much noise, I am trying to sleep here” Young K mutter, slowly rising up as he rubbed his own eyes, once he noticed you in your naked glory he had a blush across his cheeks as he tried to not let his eyes linger on your body, “Y..y..your naked! How? When? Huh?” He stuttered as you both made eye contact.

“Good morning” you smiled at Young k as Jae joined back on the bed, unsuccessful in retrieving a shirt for you to cover yourself. Nodding at his questions you looked at both males “Firstly I am very grateful for your hospitality you both gave me, I’m sorry for being very stubborn with you” you began to say as you notice the little scratches you gave Young K as he was cleaning you up earlier. Looking at Jae you nodded “yes I am the fox you took into your home last night, I am naked because when I return to my human form I am all natural, yes I am a hybrid so I can if I so choose to, I can show my ears and tail in this form but it’s a little inconvenient in my daily life” you stated starting to use your fingers to brush your hair to detangle it.

Both boys looked in shock hearing you answer Young K’s stuttered questions. “Okay, I can believe your this ‘hybrid’ but firstly could you tell us your name and how you got into the building” Jae said calmly as Young K passed you a shirt which you happily put on with no hesitation, ignoring the air quotes Jae used earlier.

“My name is y/n” you said softly looking at the amusingly “I actually live here in this building, my apartment isn’t that far away from your own” you added as you sighed “I changed form while going to check the mail, tried to hide myself which I knocked over the potted plant and then you guys came which shocked me and now I’m here in your apartment” you explained feeling very awkward since your heart is racing just having them so close.

With your explanation, Young K gave a nod with a reassuring smile “ah I can see that, I have noticed you a few times around the building, I didn’t expect you to be the fox since I have seen you once before” he stated then looked to Jae then back at you “I could go find your things if you like, then you can go home right” he adds as you nod unsure if he was trying to kick you out or help.

Before you could ask Young K how and when he saw you in your fox form before, he already left the room leaving you a little dejected since you had so many questions of your own, but you guess you being a fox hybrid is more important right now.

Young K left to go get your belongings but before he could get to the living room, Sungjin stopped him “did you hear that our next door neighbour Ms y/n (last name) didn’t return home? The rest of our neighbours are worried since she never had done that” Sungjin said concerned as Young K nods “unfortunately I didn’t see her or hear anything about it, but I’m going to check the mail so I’ll look around” Young K said as Sungjin nodded as both went in different directions.

Back in Young K’s room, Jae was asking very odd questions “So have you ever changed form in the middle of sex?” He asked as he found this situation amusing.

“Uh no, but I can bring in the tail and ears if that’s what you would like master” you teased as you then let out a sigh. Running your fingers through your hair “but seriously how am I supposed to return to my place with your band mates still here? Don’t you guys have work?” You questioned as you gave a soft smile.

Jae nods thinking about that “actually today we have no work, I do think our leader is here but not the oth...hmm” he began taking a break to think “well maybe if you can go back into your fox form we could do it that way, but it would be suspicious if both Young K and I Ieft the place together but on the other hand I could always lie” he said which caused you to laugh at his plan because he was just causing more trouble for himself.

“Yes I can change forms at will, that is probably the best because you wouldn’t want to be in an scandal right?” You said as Jae nods “you are well aware on who we are aren’t you?” He said pleased, hopefully you would be his fan.

You gave a nod “of course I am, all of us in the apartment building was informed on you boys moving in, plus I am a big day6 fan, though I can’t attend any concert or fan meets in case I accidentally change form” you explained sadly just as Young K returned fluster with your articles of clothing, mail and keys. Not sure how exactly he got it past the other boys but you are very grateful “thank you so much” you said happily causing both of them to get bashful.

After explaining the situation to Young K, you three decided to act and take you back to your apartment. Once both of them got changed of course you didn’t look, you changed back into your fox form which got both of them intrigued “Brian, you should definitely have a fox as your animal character” Jae said as Young K smirked “and you should have a chicken because you are chicken little” Young k bickered back, of course Jae has another come back to that which lead to Sungjin ignoring the both of them as they left their apartment without a problem.

“First checkpoint is a success” Jae said smirking at Young K and you which made Young K roll his eyes “yeah but you are still horrible at games, that’s why Sammy, Amber, and McKay refuse to play with you” Young K grin as Jae yawned trying to play it off as if it didn’t bother him “nah, they are just intimidated by my awesomeness” Jae responded which got you to giggle to yourself while they headed towards your apartment.

Once reaching the apartment door, Jae took your keys which had a key-chain of day6 which got them to smile to themselves, putting the key in and opening the door, you jumped out of Young K’s arms and bolted towards your bedroom to change.

“Oh wow you can smell lavender? No Lily? lemongrass?” Jae said as Young K shook his head as both men removed shoes, closed door then headed to the living room. Young K placing your belongings on the kitchen bench as he passed it “No it’s vanilla” he adds before taking a seat on your couch.

Once you got dressed, you returned amused by the guesses they made on what scent was lingering in your place. “No unfortunately it’s Jasmine” you spoke, putting your things away as you brought some refreshments “I love the smell of jasmine but I don’t own any plants because I’m forgetful, busy” you explained as you took a seat beside them.

Taking the glass of water simultaneously both boys took a sip then set the glass down. Jae feeling happily that there wasn’t any flowers around to screw with his allergy. “Oh look at the time, you both properly should go get something to eat or would you like me to make you something?” You asked, not wanting to force them to stay but giving them an option so you don’t come across as one of those stalker people or someone like that.

“Sure I wouldn’t mind eating, though could I help? I’ve been trying to learn as much as I can” Young K said as Jae scoffed “We’ll both stay after all we will like to become good friends with you, right Brian?” Jae said and Young K sighed “Hey! it’s Young K” he stated which got you to laugh.

“Alright sounds good, I would love to become good friends with you guys” you said with a smile, slowly rising and heading towards the kitchen with the annoyed Young K and the teasing Jae tailing behind you.

“This is the start of a very beautiful yet cheesy friendship or more” Jae whispers towards Young K which Young K responds with a nod “definitely but don’t think you will become the favourite” he adds as the boys bickered and helped you with making a late brunch.

What in the world have you gotten into? Your not sure but you will never regret getting the chance to meet these two lovable dorky men.

[bestillandremember]

“Never Too Broken”

As Bible School and my time at Capernwray comes to a close, we are spending our last week diving into a specific subject that interests us. I chose the 5 women of Jesus’ genealogy, their broken pasts, and how God used their mess for his glory. I presented it to the class this morning, and thought I’d post it so others could read it. Please let me know what you think! 

“Mara gazed, transfixed with her reflection. The mirror in front of her showed only the surface, as it was designed to. Today, somehow, she marveled at how it managed to identify the depths of brokenness within her. Every day previously, she had passed in front of it, tugging at her shirts, pulling at her shorts, evaluating how much of herself she wanted on display. She fixed her hair, mended her make up. It was if she was perfecting a daily costume, a disguise in which she could walk the streets of her world and not be recognized for who she truly was. It was only when she couldn’t recognize herself, that she would walk away from it. Secure in the fact that everyone else would see only what they wanted to see anyways.

Today though, Mara had no mask to wear. No foundation, no cover up. Everything she currently was stared her down in all it’s shattered glory. She saw every mistake, every damaging decision, every compromise, and every betrayal. She saw nothing but scars, both internal and external, that traced a broken roadmap of her past. Cracks, chips, and dents, like a used car. One many people had driven across the country, through desert heat, wild storms, and bitter winters. One they had left behind with crumbs, stains, and rips in her upholstery like memories of a life she almost had. With very little left to offer, her purpose was leased to those who decided her worth for themselves.

Despite what the world told her, she was not an object. She was a human. One with a soul, thoughts, and feelings, expressed through a heart that was worn on her sleeve and readily offered to others. Even now, the words of those that received it rang in her ears. After a lifetime of dedication, she had ministry leaders tell her she hadn’t done was was necessary to deserve their support. So for years she worked to meet their standards, and lost any sight of a higher calling. Christian leaders that followed told her she created a bad image for their mission by simply being who she was. Though she placed ministry first in her life, followed every rule, performed every task, and respected all boundaries- she was told it was not enough. Over time, she discovered there was nothing she could do to earn their approval. So she decided, almost by default, that her heart belonged elsewhere, as it was clearly misunderstood by those within the Christian community.

The world welcomed her with the open arms that ministry and the church couldn’t. It was charming, captivating, and almost addicting. The people within it asked for everything and nothing at the same time. Men wrapped warm words around her, whispering promises that slithered around her heart like a boa. They increased constrictive control over her slowly, in the name of a type of love that filled a void within her long enough for her to forget to question it. Their demands were masked in deep affection, and she gave freely, deceived by their performance. They asked for her world, and in turn, they became hers. Around and around she went, caught in a lonely orbit over her fragmented life, and they were her sun. In that isolation, the darkness worked away at her light as each person left her denounced and alone. If they gave any reason at all, they called her ‘less than’ and disgusting. They told her she was garbage, a waste of their precious time.

Crying out, she sank to the ground under the weight of an ache that bore down on her soul like a jackhammer. Completely helpless, she had no other choice but to acknowledge the chasm she had long ignored, even as it grew. Tears pooled until they blurred her vision, and the image of the girl in front of her was unrecognizable. Air caught suddenly in her lungs when she realized that she wasn’t alone in the mirror. Four figures had formed, two on either side of her, and she blinked to bring them to clarity. A quartet of women materialized, each laying a hand on her. She jumped at and away from the contact and turned rapidly in either direction, finding she was still alone in her room. How is this possible? she thought, as she came to face her reflection again. The women were still there, each greeting her with a kind, but knowing smile.

The woman farthest to her left was mostly covered. She was draped in several shades of dark and maroon cloth, and a veil shielded her eyes. She wore jewelry, but it was her porcelain face that drew you to her. With just the lower half of it exposed, you saw only the most delicate features. The black that covered her eyes casted a shadow, and had the word “Liar” stitched in beautiful letters across it. Mara’s heart fluttered at the proximity of someone so openly guilty, especially knowing she deserved this label as well. When she asked who she was, the woman tightened her grip briefly on her shoulder and said nothing but,

“Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.” (Romans 8:1)

With these words, her veil was lifted, revealing honest eyes that implored her to trust as she looked the woman next to her. As she came into focus, Mara saw she was clothed in extravagant shades of red and gold. Jewelry and gems hung so low on her hips that she imagined if she started dancing, that they would chime and jingle as she swayed. Her skin was soft, and perfumed. She smelled hints of vanilla and a musky sandalwood mingled with ancient scents she didn’t recognize. Her hair was twisted and pinned in an intricate mix of curls, pearls, and other jewels. She was beautiful and alluring. She touched Mara with hands that were bound by a scarlet cord, that wrapped around each her wrists like chains. Before she could ask anything else the woman said,

"For we know that our old self was crucified with him so that the body ruled by sin might be done away with, that we should no longer be slaves to sin- because anyone who has died has been set free from sin.” (Romans 6:6-7)

As she finished, her bindings lifted into the air like smoke and she was free. The next woman could have been her polar opposite, but they smiled at each other like sisters. The third had dusky skin, darkened by hours in the sun and manual labor. Dressed modestly in black fabric that wrapped around her head and framed a gentle face, Mara got the feeling she was mourning. Not just a person, but a life, security, and prosperity. She was simple, but in her brown eyes you saw a spirit and light that was genuine and willing. She spoke boldly as she told her,

"For it is with your heart that you believe and are justified, and it is with your mouth that you profess your faith and are saved.” (Romans 10:10)

Her last word echoed, ricocheting off the walls of Mara’s empty heart, and the woman’s clothes transformed into light blues and whites. With the added illumination, she recognized specs of green in her eyes that brought life to her face. A simple marriage band appeared on the left hand that played with her hair fondly, and she gazed at the last woman. Power and influence dripped from this fourth female force. She was stunningly captivating, wrapped in royal purples, bright teals, and garnished with gold. Her hair fell in long ebony waves, braided around her face so that it stayed out of her light eyes that contrasted intriguingly with her olive skin. Her wrists and fingers were layered in bracelets and rings that glittered in the sun that came in rays through her window.

Mara’s eyes were led to a bright “A” that was threaded into her clothing. A modern reference for a woman clearly not of this century. She lifted her gaze to the woman that straightened under her scrutiny. There was a conflicting shadow that crossed her face, one that clashed with the pride in her features. Loss. Grief. Honor. Virtue. She was torn between something. Maybe love and duty, since they are often separate and can exist outside of each other. She took Mara’s right hand, and placed it in hers. Holding it gently she said,

"For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.” (Romans 8:38-39)

Her scarlet letter disappeared, and was replaced by a crown. She smiled, and each woman knelt around Mara. She felt a spirit flow through the five of them, uniting and binding them in something she couldn’t apply any logic to. Though she fought it, there was a tangible connection that transcended time. It knit them together intrinsically, like roots in the same tree. Suddenly they were joined by a fifth, who stayed back to examine the women on display. Mara realized with some discomfort that she couldn’t have been more than a teenager. Innocence radiated from her, and waves of maternal warmth washed over all of them as she approached each individually.

“Tamar,” she addressed the first woman by name. “Who lied to save the bloodline of Judah.”

The girl laid a kiss upon Tamar’s head, and she leaned into Mara’s image in the middle of the mirror. Like two lanes merging on a highway, they became one. She blinked, but otherwise remained motionless, fear and doubt still holding her hostage.

“Rahab,” she named the second one. “The prostitute that hid Joshua’s spies and deceived the guards searching to kill them.”

The scarlet lady received a similar loving gesture and laid a hand on Mara, only to evaporate into her like the first. This time, she shivered and closed her eyes. Something called her to acknowledge the two women within her, but she held back. They were chipping away at the bitter denial within her, but she wasn’t ready to give in. Instead, she opened her eyes again to find the third woman reaching out for the newest arrival. They joined hands, and the younger nodded to the older.

“Ruth,” she called her. “The widowed outsider.”

Ruth wrapped inviting arms around Mara, compassion reaching to her very core. Her head fell, overwhelmed by the presence filling her. When she looked up again, only the woman dressed like royalty remained. She bowed her head, showing incredible humility to a girl half her age. When she raised her face again, the younger released the older to join the others, but not before calling her by name.

“Bathsheba. The adulteress, and accomplice to murder.”

Suddenly Mara found herself alone with this spirited youth that somehow commanded the respect of all four women before her. Surprise lifted her brows as the girl sat next to her. She took her hand gently, and nodded towards her reflection. Fearing being left alone again, she hesitated to look back. However, the girl wouldn’t let her avoid it, and lifted her chin with a gentle finger so she could face the mirror. Breath hitched in her chest as she did, and tore from it in the form of a sob. She didn’t just see herself this time, but the eyes of Tamar, Rahab, Ruth, and Bathsheba staring back at her. Their stories settled into her soul. They radiated and related to her own, comforting and calling her to peace. They welcomed her to the knowledge that she had sisters in sin, with a history equally darkened by transgressions they could not hide. Mistakes that they could not escape the consequences of, and yet the Lord conquered and used them all.

The girl next to Mara, barely more than a child herself, wrapped a thin arm around her to steady the trembling that shook her body. Taking inventory of all her Bible knowledge, she went through each person she had met in an effort to identify the stranger. The minute her heart inquired, it became abundantly clear, as if this woman could ever be unknown. In humbled awe, Mara was finally able to recognize the girl next to her.

“Mary,” she breathed. “The virgin. Mother to Jesus, the Messiah.”

The girl smiled and nodded, lifting a hand to her cheek she said,

"Therefore, my friends, I want you to know that through Jesus the forgiveness of sins is proclaimed to you. Through him everyone who believes is set free from every sin.” (Acts 13:38-39a)

She put specific emphasis on words she knew were meant just for her. A message she needed to hear. Redemption. The women within her echoed the same good news. Our weaknesses are His strengths. He is the only Creator that can take broken people and turn them into a purposeful masterpiece. Furthermore, there are no mistakes in His kingdom. God is unchanging, and so are His plans. Jesus himself came from a long line of messy humans, and the Lord used each of them to bring salvation to all. Our sin is only a testament to His power and what he can overcome.

Together they stood, and Mary faced her, palms open. Within them, a smooth stone. Confused, Mara looked to her imploringly. This couldn’t be it. She wanted to ask so many questions, because answers would surely quiet the chaos within her. Heal cuts and injuries too deep to reconcile with. The women warred inside her head and heart, trying to unite them. Not everything in this world had a righteous solution, and justice would not be her own. They fought to remind her stubborn spirit that there was nothing she needed to do. He had a plan, and she could be a part of it, just as they were. If she could acknowledge the Creator and His sacrifice, He would do the rest.

Mary took pity on her tormented mind and gave her one final reminder,

“Although the Lord gives you the bread of adversity and the water of affliction, your teachers will be hidden no more; with your own eyes you will see them. Whether you turn to the right or to the left, your ears will hear a voice behind you, saying, “This is the way; walk in it.” (Isaiah 30:20-21)

Mara thought of the voices of her new teachers, and knew they were rejoicing in this message. If all she had to do was say yes to the gift Jesus gave her in death and trust Him, who was she to deny His power to use even her pain for His glory?

“What do I do?” she asked the angel in front of her.

Mary reached forward and gave her the rock. The weight felt strange, but a nervous hope began to bloom. Nodding her head towards the mirror, she gave her a simple instruction,

“Break it.”

A refining fire erupted in her, and with one last look at her reflection, her resolve hardened like the stone in her hand. A holy calm washed over her, like a sea of cleansing water. She brought her arm all the way behind her head, and released it forward with the force of all her hurt and regret. The glass shattered into a hundred pieces, every version of herself with it. All of her sin was in fragments, catching light and casting brilliant colors on her walls. A kaleidoscope of pain she kept hidden for years, now splattered like a Jackson Pollack painting around her room.

Filling her lungs with a breath of air that no longer suffocated her, she turned to Mary. The smile on her face was tender, both proud and grateful for what she had witnessed. She offered her hand once more, and this time, Mara didn’t hesitate to take it. Together, they walked through the open door, and into the light.”

[thebritishblabbermouth]

EXO Scenario

Hey There Beautiful Beings :)) An anon reader asked me to write my perspective in the following request and I loved it! (Honestly it was so much fun!) 

The request was as follows: EXO reaction to their S/O drinking for the first time and they begin to talk nonsense. 

I’ve written up Suho and Kyungsoo and its a little longer...(because it was so much fun to write) The other members shall be written about soon! I hope you like it! Please let me know what you think about it :) 

Much Love :)) 

Baekhyun 

Suho:

Being the leader of EXO, - one of the most recognised and famous Korean boy groups of all time- was hard. Suho had an image to uphold, decorum to maintain and standards to abide by. The paparazzi were everywhere, hunting for every slip up, every mistake he and his members made. Cameras and recorders ready to flash lights over any incident. Usually, they wouldn’t get any scoop on the team at all. Having to make do with fake candid shots of Chanyeol and Sehun running to ice cream stores in the dead of the night. However with this particular incident, the press would have a field day. After all, Suho should most definitely, not be seen hauling his 25 year old girlfriend out of her friend’s apartment at 2 am. But alas, love makes us do crazy things and this particular incident was witness to that sort of affection.

‘’Don’t let her get hurt Suho!’’ whispered Mi So in a very loud fashion. Your friend was a kind and joyful woman, freshly out of law school and extremely excited for having graduated with great marks. Elementally, this small ‘’celebration’’ had been to commemorate the joyous occasion of you and your friend attaining your respective degrees, thus completing a stellar collegiate career.

‘’She’ll be fine with me Mi So- yah, and don’t whisper please…somehow you’re always louder when you do.’’ Suho replied, trying to steady his lithe girlfriend into his frame. Her long locks were falling over her shoulders, cheeks flushed and hot. ‘’Oh by the way…how much has she had exactly?’’ he questioned as his girlfriends flustered friend struggled to steady herself against the door.

‘’Not a lot! She only had 2 beers. I never knew she was such a lightweight! Why didn’t she tell me?’’ Mi So answered, finally finding her balance.

‘’She never told you because she didn’t know herself…’’ Suho grumbled in response. You had always wanted to taste alcohol, it had been on your bucket list for goodness knows how long. However, getting drunk was never your intention. You liked to be in control of your senses but were also quite the curious cat. The idea of the proposed ‘’buzz’’ that is often associated with beer left you in a trance and you had mentioned on numerous occasions how you had just wanted to ‘’try it out’’. Today had been chosen as the day of experimentation, and Suho wasn’t surprised when a very rattled Mi So had called him up, worried you weren’t going to be able to make your own way home.

And worried she should have been. Since the time Suho had arrived you had not stopped mumbling.

‘’Why did the banana go to the doctor?’’ You said, speaking into the fabric of Suho’s maroon sweater.

‘’I don’t know love…why did the banana go to the doctor?’’ he answered, looking down at your plump lips. Even in such a state, you managed to look adorable. If only you weren’t as drunk as you seemed to be, he would have been sure to kiss you senseless.

‘’Because it wasn’t peeling well.’’ You replied with a tone often used by professional businessmen. Suho couldn’t help but laugh. Your poor attempt at humour was by far the cutest thing he’d ever seen and it was lovely to see you so out of character, a change from your usually shy and quiet nature.

‘’I like how you laugh Myeon…its very happy. I think I like it as much as when you kiss me.’’ You slurred and your friend was now ready to shut her front door, not prepared to listen to any more of your drunken confessions.

‘’Well…I’d like to kiss you now but I am afraid you won’t even remember it tomorrow.’’ Said suho, softly speaking into your forehead as he pressed his lips against it. ‘’Thank you for taking care of her Mi So, I’ll tell her to call you tomorrow.’’ He continued, throwing his arm over your shoulder and hugging you close.

‘’Let’s get you into the cab shall we?’’ said Suho, sighing into the air as he heard Mi So’s door click shut behind him.

‘’Okay Junmyeonnie…’’ you giggled in reply, edging closer to him.

He pulled his long black coat over your frame and tugged his cap downwards so as to shield the two of you from any hidden cameras. The taxi, ever so beautifully arranged by Sehun (who had not so beautifully burst, into cackles when he had been informed, that his precious hyung was heading out to pick up his drunk girlfriend) had been pulled into the curb and Suho did well to place you inside without managing to bump your head against its structure.

The journey home consisted of knock knock jokes, various versions of Chickens crossing the road and a dozen fruit related puns. All of which followed chortles of laughter and snorts from the taxi driver, you and the highly dignified, leader himself.

Kyungsoo:

Movie nights were the best. You and Kyungsoo in a make shift blanket fort, cuddled close with his arm as your pillow. The IPad perched on his strong tummy while you watched whatever movie he’d picked out for the night, eyelids drooping as the exhaustion of the day and Kyungsoo’s musky aroma lulled you to sleep. You weren’t much of a movie person, but your boyfriend prized every new film added to Netflix and had stated on multiple occasions, that it was essential you watched them together.

However, movie nights with the whole squad. Now that was something Kyungsoo hated. Although he cherished each member of EXO and loved his brothers dearly, dorm movies meant noise, loads of food and very little time with you. Whether it was Sehun, chewing outrageously loudly right next to his ear, Jongin mumbling on the phone to his precious puppies or Chen snoring away in the corner, the distractions were always endless and the movie- never truly appreciated. Not to mention Baekhyun always brought booze. Too much booze. Now kyungsoo could take his alcohol well, but you were another story entirely. He was sure he had never met someone who had hated the smell of alcohol as much as you did. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to drink, it was only the smell that drove you away every time you attempted the feat. Although, it gave Kyungsoo the perfect excuse against inviting you to a dorm movie date, thus keeping you away from his overly enthusiastic band mates.

Nonetheless, this particular Sunday, saw you curled up next to your boyfriend on the large leather settee, watching Star Wars, as EXO (sparing your boyfriend) lay sprawled on the plush rug below. He had fought against Chanyeol valiantly for full rights to the couch and the poor giant lost his royal seat in an aggressive battle of rock, paper and scissors; leaving behind a very smug looking Kyungsoo.

‘’Here…drink up.’’ Said Baekhyun, holding a pink plastic Tumblr to your face. The liquid inside was a pale orange colour and you were thankful he had brought you the concoction. All of that delicious buttery popcorn had parched your throat.

‘’Thanks Baek.’’ You replied, reaching out to the beverage, but before you could do so, a soft hand encased your own. ‘’What is it Soo?’’ You asked, turning to your boyfriend who decided not to spare you a glance.

‘’What’s in the drink Baek?’’ He questioned, starring up at Baekhyun, eyes beady and wide.

‘’Its orange juice!’’ he retorted, seemingly offended at the mistrust.

‘’Its fine Soo…he won’t lie.’’ You said, defending your friend and shooting a small smile to your boyfriend. Taking the cup from his hands you took a sip albeit gingerly, letting its taste cover your palette.

‘’It’s delicious Baek…Thank you.’’ You replied, beaming at him. The drink had a distinct tangy taste and it felt like small bubbles had taken control over your tongue.

‘’Thank you! Your boyfriend Mr Grumpy Soo always thinks I am up to no good…Tch Tch.’’ Said Baekhyun playfully, sitting himself down on the carpet near your legs.

‘’That’s because you’re always up to no good.’’ Mumbled Xuimin, as he plopped himself next to a drowsy Chen, fluffing up his pillows for the night. Kim Minseok was ever the early riser but that didn’t mean he didn’t like the company of his team mates on monthly movie dates, besides he had to make sure the boys kept the living room in at least a half decent state.

‘’It’s okay Minseok-ssi, he only means well.’’ you replied, giggling into your boyfriend. The Tumblr almost completely empty as it rested between the two of you.

Perhaps it was the dull hum of the movie in the background or the warmth that engulfed them that night, everyone seemed to forget that Kim Minseok was hardly ever wrong. For just a little over 20 minutes into the second half of the film, and over 2 more tumblrs of Baekhyuns delicious bubbly orange, you began to squirm in your seat.

‘’It’s just so hot Soo!’’ You said, almost shouting. Your raised voice alerted the attention of the other members and Yixing was quick to flick on the light switch. But everyone secretly hoped he hadn’t, for you had started to take off the large hoodie encasing your small body, leaving you in your purple sports bra.

‘’Jesus! Aren’t you guys hot too! Or is it just me, because I am sitting next to this handsome hunk of a human being.’’ You continued, turning to wink at kyungsoo. Your boyfriend sat there mortified, eyes bulging out as he took note of your bare form.

‘’Oh my god! She’s taking her clothes off!’’ Screamed Chanyeol from the other corner of the room as he scrambled to cover the makane’s eyes. Sehun’s shriek at the sudden blindness did well to awaken Kyungsoo’s protective instincts as he took his own sweatshirt off and wrapped you inside it.

‘’Oo la la Soo-yah…you look so sexy in that wife beater.’’ You spoke, licking your lips and he turned a shade of red that seemed to be darker than blood. 

Upon seeing his flushed face, Baekhyun burst into fits of laughter and Kyungsoo stood up, wrapping his arms protectively around his personal burrito.

‘’What did you put into that drink Byun Baekhyun.’’ Asked kyungsoo, growling. The troublemaker took the opportunity to hide behind their Leader, fearing his imminent death.

‘’Yeah Baek? What did you put into the drink? She’s never like this! Hell, she’s never even worn shorts to the dorm before, let alone start stripping randomly.’’ Said Suho, the leader bringing his skills of observation into the questioning.

‘’It was only a bit of Orange Juice,’’ replied Baekhyun, ‘’and champagne and just a tiny hint of Vodka.’’ He added, voice just above a whisper.

‘’Byun Baekhyun, you’re dead meat.’’ Roared Kyungsoo, palms turning into strong fists.

‘’Meat! That’s what I want to do to you, eat you up just like Meat. Kyungie Baby…you’re yummy! Just like that lovely drink!’’ you said, smiling as you wriggled about in his shielding confines, finally managing to free your arms and wrap them around his neck.

‘’See! She thinks it was yummy, don’t glare at me Soo!’’ yelled Baek, pouting slightly.

‘’Did anyone say Meat? I’d love Chicken right now. How about we order some?’’ Said Jongin as strolled into the room, finishing up with his phone calls. ‘’Should we order beer too? And some ribs- Oh my god! I was only gone for 10 minutes and Noona’s naked!’’ he screamed. Yixing rubbed at his temples as he took Jongin to the side, trying his best to explain the situation.

‘’Oh for heaven’s sake people, let the man take his girlfriend to bed!’’ Shouted Suho, his patience wearing thin. He gave Kyungsoo an apologetic look as he turned himself around, facing the projector to unpause the movie.

‘’Thank god I don’t have a girlfriend…’’ mumbled Chanyeol as he switched off the main lights, the commotion of the night dying down in the darkness.  

‘’You won’t get a girlfriend if you keep ‘’accidently’’ going to a gay bar Yeollie. It really isn’t anyone else’s fault that you have a thing for Baekhyun’s bum.’’ You whispered, your head lulling into the crook of Kyungsoo’s neck. The whole dorm fell into an eerie silence before Chen’s loud laughter lead the pack into chortles, Sehun crying from happiness upon witnessing the frightened look on Baekhyun’s face.

‘’That’s my girl, always killing two birds with one stone.’’ Whispered Kyungsoo, nuzzling his nose with your own. ‘’How about we get you to bed and you can tell me just how sexy you think I am.’’ He continued, scooping you up into his arms.

‘’Mr and Mrs Satan. What a beautiful couple.’’ Said Junmyeon, grinning as he saw the love birds leave the room.  

‘’Touché’’ replied Minseok, snuggling himself into the duvets, stealing warmth from Yixing’s supple back. Life in the dorms was great he thought, as he closed his eyes to sleep.