#no one else around here is gonna cater to my tastes specifically so that’s what I’m doing

[panthermouthh]

Happy autumn. -lesbians ur Dracula-

[staarshines]

adhjdjs yesss!! very happy that i found smone else writing for karev haha. could you do number 6 from the frozen prompts with him :’))

Surprises, Surprises, & More Surprises || A.K.

Warnings: None!

Word Count: 1.6k

After a sleepless night, Alex decides you’ve had enough and pulls off a surprise for you, which surprisingly leads to feelings being revealed.

[A/N]: I’m only on season 14 of Grey’s, so if you want to send me a request with a specific scene that happens in the show, please make sure it’s not a spoiler!

Disney Prompts | Nat’s 500

“Hey, wake up.” Your head snaps up and you blink a couple of times, finding yourself standing over a nurse’s station desk. Groaning, you rub your eyes, checking the time and finding that you hadn’t even been asleep for one full minute. “You okay?” You turn to Alex, finding him with raised eyebrows and a concerned look on his face.

“I’m fine,” you yawn, pressing the save button on your file and placing the tablet that you had been working on before you fell asleep on a charger stand.

“You were literally asleep standing up. We have on-call rooms for a reason.”

“The mattresses in there are shit. I still gotta pester Webber to replace those,” you mutter, sighing.

“Were you up studying for a surgery or something?” You shake your head, running a tired hand through your hair to tame it as best you could.

“Meredith and Derek were at it all night. I should’ve known to not take the room under hers intern year,” you state solemnly, sticking out your tongue playfully when Alex laughs at you.

“I told you that you can come sleep with me if that ever happens.”

“What a very tempting offer, Karev, but I’m just not interested. Must be hard for you to face rejection?” you tell him sarcastically, flipping your hair exaggeratedly. 

Honestly? That was the furthest one could get from the truth. You’d had a crush on him since intern year, and you knew you loved him the second year of residency. Those feelings had failed to dissipate, and they haunted you every day. Watching him get with Izzie, then Olivia, next came Addison, then Rebecca, Callie, Lexie; the point is evident. He’d gotten with all of them, but he couldn’t see that the person who’d loved him for years was right in front of his face.

“Oh, shut up. But really. I don’t want you falling asleep on the job when you can just get a good night’s sleep next to me.” For some reason, his last sentence makes butterflies go crazy in your stomach, which is probably the millionth time that’s happened. You wished there was something under those words, you really did, but you’d come to terms with the fact that he didn’t like you a while ago.

“I’m not falling asleep!”

“Oh, please. You were literally asleep standing up.”

“I was resting my eyes,” you defend yourself. “I was just giving my spine a break from supporting my head for a bit.” 

“Yeah, right,” he chuckles, making you push his shoulder.

“I actually went up to your room. You were asleep and I didn’t want to wake you, though,” you lie with a straight face. 

You had gone up to his room and even sat down on the edge of the bed, watching his chest rise and fall with every breath. He looked so peaceful when he was sleeping. Not stressed or snappy like he’d be on most days, but genuinely peaceful. Eventually, you’d left because you knew you’d get more sleep in your own room than Alex’s; you’d just be staring at him the entire night. 

God, you really could never get enough of that face.

“We both know damn well that I’m a heavy sleeper. Just don’t steal the duvet, yeah?” You laugh with a nod. 

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“What’s this, the fourth time this has happened?”

“Sixth,” you correct with another yawn. “Or seventh. I honestly don’t know.” He tilts his head, and you can practically see the gears turning in his head. “Whatcha thinking, evil spawn?”

“That’s Cristina’s thing. And I’m thinking…” he trails off, prompting you to raise your eyebrows and wave a hand in front of his face. “You know what? I have a surprise for you. You get off at nine today, right?”

“I do, but why? What’s the surprise?” you question, genuinely intrigued as to what he was gonna pull off. 

“If I told you, then it wouldn’t be a surprise, would it?” You pout, watching him wink at you and walk off. “I’ll pick you up at the ER entrance once you’re done!” he calls out to you. You nod and realize there’s a patient you need to get to, but you’re deep in your thoughts as you walk the hallway to the Cardiac ICU.

What the hell was he gonna pull off?

“Put this on.” Alex hands you a blindfold and you look at him with a disbelieving expression, slapping it out of his hand and raising an eyebrow.

“I should’ve known there was something wrong when you sent me that text to meet you in your car,” you laugh, watching him huff.

“If you don’t put on the blindfold, then the surprise is gonna be ruined. You’re gonna know as soon as we pull into the damn lot, so just put it on?” You give him a weary look and pick it up from where you slapped it onto the dash of his car, slowly wrapping it around your head. Hearing him start the car, you sigh and bite your lip.

“I swear, if you’re playing some kind of joke, I’ll land you in the E.R., and not even by accident.” He chuckles before reversing the car and driving out of Grey-Sloan’s parking lot.

“Can I take this thing off now?” you whine, holding his hands and steadily walking—well, you don’t really know where. He’d just led you up a flight of stairs, so you’re pretty sure you’re walking down a hallway now.

“Just a couple more steps and we’ll be there,” he mutters, holding both of your hands and guiding you—again, you don’t have a clue where. “All right, stop. I gotta open this door.” You can hear keys jangle and you’re even more confused. “Okay, come on.” He leads you into the room, presumably, and puts his hands on the back of your blindfold, untying it. “Voilà!”

You flinch at the sudden change of light, putting a hand over your eyes and slowly blinking until you can open your eyes without any pain. An apartment—maybe a loft?—meets your gaze, and your jaw drops at how beautiful it is. Perfectly catered to your and Alex’s tastes, almost of like he had it custom-made.

“This—Holy shit. This is beautiful. What—How? Wait, why’d you bring me here?” You turn around to find him with a proud grin on his face, and you can read everything just from that. “This is ours?”

“Remember when we went apartment hunting because you started having the same problem with Derek and Mer and we came across that really musty loft that you said you wouldn’t move into in a million years?” He waves around, and your eyes widen.

“That’s this?” You walk slowly further into the loft, still awed by how much it had changed. What once used to look like a place where druggies would go to hang out now looked like a dream apartment. “How the hell did you manage this?”

“Well,” he walks up right next to you, admiring the loft, “you know I don’t like being told I can’t do something.”

“You did this? By yourself?” The surprises keep coming and coming, and you’re pretty sure your jaw is permanently unhinged because of how wide your mouth is open in shock. He nods proudly, putting his hands on his hips. “Let me get this straight. You renovated this by yourself?”

“Not too bad, huh?” You scoff disbelievingly, still not believing what you were seeing. “What? Do you not like it?”

“Are you serious? ‘Not too bad’?”

“We can find a different—”

“No! God, you can be such an idiot at times,” you laugh, pulling him into a hug. “It’s perfect.” He pushes you back by your shoulders but so much so that your arms are still around his torso, eyes darting all over your face to see if you’re kidding.

“You really like it?” You fight back a grin—and fail—at how cute he can be at times, nodding your head eagerly.

“I love it! I could kiss you! I could. I mean, I’d like to. I. May I? We me? I mean, may we? Wait, what?” The gravity of what you just said slaps you right in the face, and you remove your hands from his figure and start to let your mind race for an excuse. “I didn’t mean to say that—”

“You want to kiss me?” he asks in a soft whisper with the smallest smile on his face. You get lost in how awed he looks, nodding slightly.

“I’ve wanted to. Since intern year…” you trail off, thinking it won’t hurt if you tell him a bit more. You’ve already caused enough damage.

You realize it’s definitely not damage when his lips come crashing down into yours and he pulls you into him, hands gently cupping your face.

It’s not a soft kiss, but it’s not a rough kiss, either. It’s a kiss that’s full of longing, emotions, and “I’ve wanted to do this for so long”. You’re so in shock that you don’t actually register when he pulls away, so your eyes stay closed for a couple seconds longer than they should. When you open them, you’re taken aback again by all the adoration swimming in his eyes. Your eyes are having their own conversation with his, silently telling each other everything you two couldn’t communicate verbally.

“You like me?” You’re almost sorry his words break the nearly magical moment, giving him a light slap upside the head.

“No, I just kissed you for the hell of it. Of course I like you, dumbass!”

“And you’ve liked me since intern year.” Even the insufferable grin on his face isn’t enough to make you regret kissing him, which is a first.

“Oh, shut up about it and kiss me again.”

Masterlist

All taglists are open! Send me an ask or a message :)

Permanent: @becausewhyknotme, @criminal-cookies, @theladyoffangorn, @officialtonystarkprotectionsquad, @justmebeingtheweirdmeiam, @fantasticcopeaglepasta, @talk-geek-to-me, @letsmellowjello, @thescarletknight2014, @wemisshim3000, @arabellathorne, @brooklynsmorales, @marvel-dameron

Grey’s Anatomy: @arkofblake, @asianravenpuff

[beyondcanon]

fanfic: a family wedding

here i am, out of a 5-year retirement, back on my bullshit. a new offering, from a new fandom. enjoy:

wynonna earp/wayhaught.  Waverly and Nicole's wedding turns everyone into a bridezilla. Complete. Read on AO3.

i.

Waverly rubs her temples. She wanted a quiet night in, to watch some RuPaul and hopefully later spend long moments sitting on Nicole's face.

The house has been full of people for the last three weeks, bustling with activity and constant bickering.

Nicole rubs Waverly's back and kisses just beneath her ear. It makes it a little better. "It's time for the contingency plan, baby."

Waverly sighs. "Why does everyone have to be..." She searches for the right words. "Like this?" She gestures around, defeated.

"I am the best cowboy!" Doc grunts, pushing past Mercedes. "I won't be made to wear a tux!"

"We're not all from the Old West, old man." Jeremy stands by Mercedes’s side, who gives her best I am always right smile. "We have to be color-coordinated!"

"You can go dressed as a magic elephant, for all I care." He sips his whiskey.

This is why she can't have nice things.

Nicole squeezes Waverly's shoulder. "You're a planner, aren't you?" She gives her that little adorable smile. "So let's plan our wedding. Make it amazing."

Wynonna arrives with cheap booze and Shorty's chicken wings. "Anyone want to try wedding samples?" She settles them on the table with a loud thud

No no no nononono—

"Enough!" Waverly stands up, stomps her foot on the ground, and claps her hands. "Everyone sit down!"

It shocks everyone enough and the house falls silent.

"Yes, baby girl?" Wynonna smiles pretty, like she's doesn't always have a fire burning under her ass.

“The madness stops now." Waverly walks to the cupboard and takes the bright pink folder she's been hiding for two whole days and nights. "It's my wedding." Her gaze softens when it meets Nicole, who winks at her.

"I'm going to lay some ground rules." She takes several papers and passes them around. "I have assigned you each a role in this mess."

Everyone starts reading, nodding, flipping through pages. They are taking it much better than Waverly imagined.

"You have our wishes and specific deadlines for each task." She looks at each of the lunatics in their eyes. "You'll stick to your role, and you won't make final decisions without me or Nicole present. Understood?"

They nod.

Nicole gets up from the couch to stand by Waverly's side, a comforting hand on the small of her back. "We have three months. Can we count on you?"

The entire house rumbles with cheer.

"A round of shots for everybody!" Wynonna shouts before rushing to grab the glasses.

It takes no time for everyone to be comparing assignments.

Nicole pulls Waverly aside and whispers in her ear. "That was so hot, baby."

"You liked it?" Waverly bites her lower lip, grabbing Nicole's shirt to pull her even closer. "I've saved the best for later."

Nicole smiles, that handsome devil, arms around Waverly, and leans for a wet, dirty kiss.

—

Nicole called it saving costs, but Waverly calls it porn:

A white tank top, dirty and clinging to her body, tight jeans, brown boots, drops of sweat on her glorious, exposed, lean, muscled back.

Power tools, gloves, woodwork? In the middle of her front lawn?

"I know." Wynonna shows up by Waverly's side, leaning against the door frame, and stares.

Doc, sexy if mustaches and Old West are your things, is cutting wood, black tank top, rough jeans, black boots, grunting in concentration.

"Oh yes," Waverly nods, half a glass of lemonade forgotten on her right hand. "I love a good DIY project."

Nicole is setting up the frame of the structure, drilling holes, and what else. She looks back and smiles, much like that first day on Shorty's.

Waverly gnaws her straw, short of breath.

-

Doc cleans his forehead. "I'm going to the store to get more supplies."

Waverly shows up, hair down and big, big smile. "Lemonade?" She offers the tray.

He takes a glass and Nicole settles down her tools with a content sigh, hair sticking to the back of her neck.

Waverly salivates as she extends her tray to her future wife.

One thing you can say about Doc is the man can read a room. He looks between the both of them before tipping his head as a thank you. "Be back later."

"Maybe you want to come inside and rest, after all your..." Waverly squeezes Nicole's arm," hard work?"

Nicole smiles, dimple and all, and takes a few steps closer. She smells like wood, grass, and vanilla. "There's a lot to do. We only have a few weeks."

Waverly looks up into Nicole's eyes. Grabbing her belt, she sneaks a few fingers between Nicole's jeans and her glorious warm skin. "Resting is so important when you work this hard, baby."

"You're not wrong."

Waverly, so coy and innocent, blinks and pulls them inside.

In appreciation, she waits for Nicole to finish her drink to only then go down on her on the kitchen table. 35 minutes later, she comes back for air and cleans her face with the back of her hand.

Now that's refreshing.

-

Mercedes, in a long white dress, looks every part like the socialite she is.

"This is unacceptable!" She shows her scary vampire teeth, and the poor catering people retreat two to seven steps. "Being vegan is not an excuse to serve us this rotten, tasteless..." Her mouth contorts, incapable of finishing the sentence.

Waverly opens her mouth to defend the catering, because what you'd expect from a small-town, backyard company — Mercedes lifts a commanding finger and grabs her phone.

Nicole, all parts, hero and sexy beast, places an arm on Waverly's shoulders, and whispers: "Let her do her thing, baby."

Every hair on Waverly's body stands. That's very convincing.

"Marco?" Mercedes smiles and tucks a strand of her behind her ear, vampire teeth concealed. "Yes, so long." She chuckles. "I know. Where's Ibiza when we need it?"

Looking at her own pristine, manicured nails, she sighs. "Listen, I need a favor. I'm organizing a wedding, and you know how food is essential to having a good time. But I can't seem to find good service in this town." She punishes the employees with a cold, cold glare.

"I was wondering if you could spare me Giovanni for a few days, so he can take charge." She smiles, nails running on the table. "I still remember that banquet in 2014, don't you?" She offers the wedding info and hangs up.

Waverly tilts her head.

She looks back to the catering employees and offers a plastic smile. "There you go. You will have a new boss."

Nicole clears her throat. "Excuse me?"

"My taste buds need something of a certain level, Nicole." Mercedes puts her phone on her Prada leather purse. "And you both deserve to know what good food is. Giovanni will take care of the menu, the supplies, and he will be here to avoid a succession of inevitable disasters."

Waverly leans forward. "Who's Giovanni, again?"

"A personal friend, an underwear model, and a rising star in Italy's high dining scene. Just opened his first franchise in New York, so. Right by our side. Lucky for us!"

New York City isn't exactly a short drive away, but Waverly isn't going to tell Mercedes that. Neither was Giovanni.

-

Thirteen dresses later, Waverly finds the one.

The store lights bathe her in the spotlight, with the seamstress fussing over the hem of the dress — flowing, pearl white, structured but still fluid when Waverly spins around.

She turns to Wynonna and makes a pose.

"Baby girl, you look..." Wynonna looks at her like she's everything, eyes already watery. "Perfect."

Waverly beams, cheeks flushed, heart racing. This is it.

She's going to marry the love of her life in this dress.

After everything. Despite everything. She's going to marry the love of her life.

She tries a delicate, golden necklace on. It shines under the gentle dressing room lights.

Even better. She touches it with the tips of her fingers. "I can't believe it."

Wynonna coughs, smirk back to her face. "Nicole’s panties are going to combust as soon as she sees you."

Waverly slaps her sister's arm. "Wynonna!"

She will, though. She totally will.

And Waverly is not going to be using any underwear, so.

Good luck to Nicole in dealing with that information.

-

The demon bar is closed, with only a few employees restocking on the back, under neon lights.

Rosita, cigar on one hand and whiskey neat on the other, raises her eyebrows and smiles as Waverly approaches with a pie.

"Peace offering?" She sets her drink on the table as a beautiful bartender drapes herself around her, a hand on her bare chest under her blazer.

Waverly focuses on Rosita's dark eyes. She will not stare at that gratuitous PDA nor the bartender sucking on Rosita's earlobe.

Rosita smirks and pulls the pie closer. "Smells good."

"There's more." Waverly takes a top-tier, aged whiskey bottle from her purse and places it on the table.

Rosita's eyes shine — she opens immediately and takes a sip. "That's the good stuff. Gonna save it for a special occasion." She leans back on her seat. "But my birthday is not in four months."

For a breath, Waverly hesitates. "My wedding is next weekend."

"I've got the invitation. Beautiful lettering."

The bartender leaves, looking at Waverly from head to toe and making her squirmish.

She clears her throat. "Can I trust there will be no supernatural shenanigans? For a whole weekend?"

Rosita looks at her, kinder than a moment ago, and finishes her drink. "I own you that, at least." She stretches her empty glass to the side and the bartender pops up with another, touch lingering before leaving.

The woman is living in her customized heaven.

She turns back to Waverly. "To be fair, Doc has already a. showed up with two shiny guns and b. chose a few demons for security. It's all settled."

Waverly's eyes widen. "He what?"

"You know he's a worrier, darling." Rosita takes a puff of her cigar. "Do you mind if I wear red? I've been meaning to ask you."

Waverly rolls her eyes. "Wear whatever you want. As long as you stay out of trouble."

Rosita pouts her pretty, full red lips. "Me? Trouble?" She purrs, full of mischief. "Never."

-

Jeremy shines when he has goals and deadlines.

He begins his Powerpoint presentation about the wedding, running decisions, costs, and purveyors.

"It's your wet dream, baby," Nicole laughs when he opens a detailed excel sheet.

"Oh, hush, you," Waverly nudges her to-be wife and shuts her up with a kiss. "Continue, Jeremy. You're perfect the way you are."

He’s dumping even more information when Waverly notices something. "Wait." She scoots closer to the computer screen. "My first rough budgets were at least two times what you're showing us."

"See, uh, the numbers," Jeremy stops, mumbles something, stops again.

Nicole raises an eyebrow. "Jeremy."

He gives them a sheepish smile. "Everyone wanted to chip in."

Nicole blinks, frozen. "What?"

"It was supposed to be a kind of a secret?" He gives them a weird chuckle. "But my graphs were so nice, and I thought Waverly would want to see them, and... now we're here."

"Everyone wanted to chip in," Waverly repeats, dumbstruck.

"Yeah, uh, Wynonna is paying for your dress, Doc and Nedley are taking over half of the booze budget, Mercedes said she had a special deal with some Giovanni man about the food, and I don't have much but there's enough for some of the flowers, and Contessa sent me a check, and then..."

"That's... very nice of you." Nicole pulls Jeremy for a hug. "All of you." Waverly follows them into a group hug.

Jeremy sinks into their embrace, relieved. "You should start this new chapter without debt."

Silly, silly people. Waverly sniffs. She's not crying.

-

Doc's scrubbing, sanding, and painting the fences. He smiles somewhere under his mustache when Waverly arrives. "Afternoon."

He's been fixing the property every day, and it shows.

"It's looking great, Doc." Waverly can't help but grin.

"Everything for our girls," he answers, never stopping his work. It's different, being taken care of.

Waverly looks at her own feet for a moment. That gets Doc to pause. "You didn't have to talk to Rosita."

"I know." He nods. "I'm sorry if I overstepped. I wanted to make sure everyone would be safe and focused on celebrating." A long pause. "We had enough suffering already."

"You didn't have to do that," Waverly says quietly. "Thank you."

-

Waverly enjoys a moment of peace on the couch, cuddling against Nicole as they each read a book.

Rachel walks in circles in the living room, white earphones over her ear, until she screams, "I GOT IT!"

Waverly enjoyed a moment of peace, that is. She closes her book, followed suit by Nicole. "Yes, Rachel?"

"Listen, a two-day ceremony is not easy, okay?" Rachel gesticulates. "There are so many moments, the music has fit the mood. So I made four different playlists."

Nicole pulls Waverly to her lap, equal parts gratuitous and welcome. Waverly rests her side against her fiancée, hand playing with gorgeous, silky red hair.

The closer they are to the wedding, the harder it becomes to stay away. She wants to be touching Nicole all the time, every time.

Rachel clears her throat. "You do make The Notebook look bleak."

They both smile, turning their attention to their unpaid DJ.

"Back to business!" Rachel sits by their side and shows her phone screen. "There are four playlists. I call them: Drunk in Love, Let's Get That Party Started, Soft Rock for Old People, and Live, Laugh, Love. Each lasts several hours."

Nicole nods, impressed. "I hope there's plenty of throwbacks."

"Yeah yeah," Rachel waves. "Plenty of the 90s and 2000s for old people do their old people dances." Her face turns very serious. "No Macarena. I have standards."

Waverly smiles.

-

They decide to get ready at Nicole's because they need a moment.

Waverly leaves the bathroom in a tight, golden dress that doesn't quite reach half her thighs.

Nicole, sitting on the edge of the bed, puts her phone aside. "Nedley says everything's going well and we should—" She looks at Waverly and stops dead in her tracks. "Oh. Baby."

"We should?" Waverly takes a few steps towards her high heels, putting her earring on.

"Baby." Is Nicole... breathless? Waverly turns to look at her future wife in slack pants and dress shirt still undone, sexy lace lingerie. A vision.

Nicole's lips part open, chest rising and falling quickly. "You're a vision."

Waverly dismisses her with a wave and a smile, face turning hot. "I haven't even finished my makeup."

Nicole gets very close, very fast. "We're going to be late."

We still have half an hour, and we're almost ready—" Waverly frowns.

Nicole pushes her against the dresser, bodies in full contact, lips grazing Waverly's. "We're going to be late," she says, voice dropping an octave, hand on the back of Waverly's neck.

Waverly's breath catches on her throat.

Oh.

She places one hand on Nicole's chest, licking her lips. "Nicole..."

"You're the most gorgeous girl I've ever seen." She grabs the back of Waverly's thighs, and soon Waverly is sitting on the dresser, legs spread open. "I need to have a taste." She joins their lips in a slow, wet kiss. "I promise I won't ruin your makeup too much."

Heart pounding wild, Waverly lets out a shaky breath. "Take off your shirt. I wouldn't want it to get wrinkled."

Nicole obeys.

-

Waverly and Nicole walk into Shorty's, arms linked and sway on their hips. A pair of retired demon bartenders offer champagne, and they each take one.

The crew cleaned up the place nicely for the rehearsal dinner. There's a giant table in the middle of the room, candles all around, soft music playing on the speakers.

This is where it all began. This is where they would come together as a family before the big day.

They take their seats, Nicole's arm resting on the back of Waverly's chair. Her shirt is two buttons open too sexy.

Waverly stares like she hasn't spent the last hour kissing, biting, and licking those wonderful assets. Can anyone tell Waverly came two times in Nicole's car before arriving?

Wynonna looks at them with a very particular smile, eyebrows wobbling.

Yes, they can.

Nedley raises his glass. "Let the feast begin!"

The bartenders arrive in a choreography of endless drinks and trays of food.

It's lovely, and Waverly's heart could explode.

-

Belly full, head dizzy, Waverly looks at Nicole, who's talking to Wynonna like old pals.

She lays her head on Nicole's shoulder and her very nearly wife turns to kiss Waverly's head before returning to the conversation.

How did she manage to find someone like this? How does someone get that lucky?

Doc stands up, charming in his modern cowboy look. He clinks his glass. "It's time for a toast." Oh, man. Everyone falls silent, eyes darting between Doc and the couple. 

"Waverly, you're sweet as a summer peach. You're the heart of this ragged group of outsiders." A lengthy round of claps. "Nicole, you have some gut. You're not afraid to stand up for creatures much stronger than you and fifteen times as dangerous. You could have a quiet life, and still, you chose us. You're out of your mind."

They laugh and toast together. "To insanity!"

Nedley clears his throat. All eyes go to him. "Nicole, I'm so proud of the woman you've become and the family you made for yourself." He says it slow, gentle, measuring his words. "Waverly, you found yourself a good one. Every bit good and sweet as you are. You both deserve all the happiness in the world. Marriage is a wild ride and life can be tough: good luck."

Waverly nods and toasts with him, holding back tears.

"I made, uh, a quick chat about—" Jeremy begins before Wynonna boos and throws a grape in his direction. "Tough crowd," he says, standing up and getting a laugh out of most people. "Seriously, though. As the wedding planner, social media manager, and chapel coordinator..." He pauses and looks around. "Which are three of the most important jobs," he raises a finger and ignores Doc's huffing by his side. "Thank you for letting me live vicariously through you both. You are the gay unicorns. Thank you for not dying, several times."

Another toast! Can Waverly even hold this much alcohol? She giggles.

Wynonna stands up: tight black dress, plenty of cleavage and gun strapped to her thigh and whiskey on her hand. "Nicole, thank you for making my baby sister happy." She locks eyes with Waverly, so soft and content. Waverly smiles and squeezes Nicole's arm. "We've been to hell and back. We learned to like each other, even though you're a goody-two-shoes who fucked my sister on every surface available on my house." The whole table laughs; Waverly hides her face on the crook of Nicole's neck. "Oh yes, Sheriff, I know. I wish I didn't. One more reason I need therapy." More laughs. She raises her glass. "Thank you for putting up with us."

The bartenders serve their shots. "To sound insulation!" Wynonna shouts.

Waverly downs her drink, feeling it burn on the back of her throat. Oh, Nicole will have to carry her home if they keep this up.

Downing two shots in close succession, Wynonna looks at Rachel and gestures with her head.

The girl gets up from her seat, orange juice on a champagne glass. "Marriage is totally a failed institution, but—" She fidgets with her dress. "If anyone can make it work, it's the two of you. It's gross, really." She gets a thunderous laugh from the others and gives a small smile. "To lesbian moms!"

Nicole raises her champagne glass.

-

Gunshots and people screaming.

Of course.

Wynonna, Doc, and Nicole jump immediately, retrieving their guns as they out the bar.

Waverly huffs, reflexes slow, and no gun anywhere near.

"Stop right there!" She can hear Nicole scream, already outside.

When she gets to the action, four demons are trying to rob a store. Great. Talk about trusting Rosita.

Nicole points Peacemaker at them. "If I were you, I'd listen to the Sheriff."

They growl, posture wobbly as if drunk or drugged on something. "Can't a demon have some fun in this town?"

A thunder falls, and a deep voice echoes. "What did I say?"

Waverly looks and approaching at a distance: Rosita, red overcoat, and hair flowing in the autumn wind. She's almost floating right above the ground, the definition of power.

"Not today, boys," she orders, with an easy command. "Not tomorrow. And not the day after that." She's already very close. "Is that too much to ask?"

She looks at the humans trapped inside and the doors open. "Get out." The young family scurries away, no questions asked.

She slaps the demons in quick succession. "It's like you can't take a fucking order." They try to fight, but Rosita is quicker, stronger, and doesn't take a single blow.

It's a beautiful one and a half minutes.

Wynonna breaks a smile, gun still pointed at the group. "You go, girlboss."

Rosita rolls her eyes, a high-heeled boot on a demon's throat, a hand on another's throat, as two lie on the floor, passed out. "I'm sorry about the disturbance. You may go back to your festivities."

Waverly feels a bit guilty. Maybe Rosita's not so bad.

"See you tomorrow." Rosita drags the demons back to wherever they came from.

Nicole shrugs and sets her gun back on its holster. "C'mon, baby. Night's still young."

Waverly takes her hand, tripping just a little on the walk back to Shorty’s.

By the end of the night, Nicole does carry her to bed, with a big glass of water and some aspirin. -

Read chapter Two.

[rivka-kopelman]

Delivery Lemur Logbook :  5

<view full logbook>

December 19th, 3431

It's Delivery Lemur (Deliveremur) once again. Right now i'm 5 mins out from Shyface, 2nd moon of Shy Omicron (Galaxy 8). Someone way out in Graygulf placed an order for chocolate pudding and this is closest place that has it.

The one city here is Hexbreak Heights. It's powered by underground currents of liquid barium. The 95% crow population spends December/January down on the planet, so it's pretty quiet these days.

A blandly smiling human from the catering company meets me in the airlock and takes me to a spotless parlor where I wait for him to get the pudding made. I saw his ceramic necklace with the cursive 'U' worn by unminded, people who pay psys to take away their memories or unwanted emotions. If you see that necklace on someone you know, it tells you that they've mentally rebooted and won't remember you. Lots of unminded folks work in isolated spots like this. The guy comes back to say the pudding's half done, and gives me a gratis small coffee with carved ginger.

I nibble the ginger and sip the coffee. Interesting taste combination. It's served like this everywhere in galaxy 8, but nowhere else. It might keep me up all night, but I finish the drink. It's good. The serenely vacant caterer brings out the chocolate pudding for me in a to-go jar and I pay him &2.2N in the single-use non-depositable currency used by energy-independent settlements.

OK, back to the ship. Queuing up launch sequence. I hold the chocolate pudding securely in the crook of my elbow. The engine is fired up and I zip out into space.

Course set for... Where was it? Ashgulf. Ok. I type in the coordinates and ease back into my beanbag. Tum tee tum tum , ta ta tee ta ta ta... I've never had chocolate pudding before (It's a slime-based breakfast item from galaxy 1). I wonder where my headphones are. Probably my coat pocket. I contemplate getting up to check, but if I reach into my coat pocket and don't feel them there, I'm gonna have to tear this place apart. So I sit peacefully and do nothing. Something beeps

A chattery electric whine reverberates through through the ship and gets shriller until it's too high to hear. The output of my space engine spikes absurdly high. Did I hit a button with my tail or something? No, that's not it. All the controls are locked out. The system is just giving me protocol 709 in progress over and over. What the hell is that? This hasn't happened before. A possibility occurs to me: pirates are hacking my mainframe. There could be a stowaway in here. There must be a RAM Rat or a Network Newt in the chocolate pudding. I open the jar and stir it with a pen but nobody is in there. The ship veers hard around a random moon or whatever and 100% of the pudding splashes out and I'm covered. I wipe my eyes clear and try to engage the brakes or cut power to the thruster. No go. I can't turn, reverse, or anything. I feel the velocity in my gums and bone marrow. I glance down and see my headphones in a fold of the beanbag; I'd been sitting on them the whole time. "Nice," I say.

I manage to click into the PlanetScan App to get an idea of where I'm going. Looks like nowhere. No data at all - that's a first.

Going down here I guess. Um. Just as I start to consider how quick I might be able to get into a suit and squeeze out the garbage chute, the frozen surface rushes up and my ship smashes through it. The hull shudders but does not break.

There's a dark ocean under the ice. Protocol 709 has me hurtling through the frigid gloom, skimming the silty seabed. Is this simply a guidance malfunction or...

... am i being pulled somewhere specific? Hmm. What have we here? It looks angular and haunted. Hopefully the ship isn't headed in there. it is though. Of course. ok in we go. There's air trapped inside the structure by hydrostatic pressure. Check out this parking lot! What the heck am I seeing here? Are psys messing with me? Or aliens?

I'm automatically parked among these too-familiar ships and Protocol 709 terminates. I've got control of the ship back. I fire up the engines to leave right away. I am not interested in pyramids or space mysteries. Let's just call this a glitch and move on. Um... my Space Toilet looks like it was ruptured during the voyage. I really need to use the bathroom so I guess I will get out and look around. These other lemurships are locked & unresponsive. I tiptoe through the arched doorway into the dark guts of the pyramid. Ancient titanium bulkheads creak and groan under the weight of the turbulent ocean above. I see warm light up ahead.

I emerge from the corridor into a chamber the size of a city block. A clear voice rings out from dead ahead. "Yggulazagla." The word ECHOES and echoes and e c h o e s  and fades away. I yell back yggulazagla, the traditional greeting used among lemurs. I go towards the merry-go-round where a dozen Delivery Lemurs are lounging in the revolving carriages. "Happy holidays. Did I miss a memo?" I say, stepping unsurely onto the spinning platform. "We all did. Invitations were sent out with a (deliveremur) but none of them were delivered." Hmm that may have been me. Tactfully, no one asks why I'm covered with chocolate pudding. They all look like they've been through antics of a similar sort; spinach in the ears, candles glued to knees, ruby dentures, etc. "I've been here for six days," says a (deliveremur). "When I realized no one was coming I transmitted a protocol 709 to all the lemurships in wi-fi range." "I was so confused until I checked the user manual," said another. "I didn't know about the homing override command." I didn't know there was a manual. "Good thing you thought of it, or we'd all miss the staff party." The spinach-eared (deliveremur) related the story of discovering this place by accident while looking for a yo-yo factory, and insisted these coordinates remain a lemur secret. "Now that you're here," they say to me, "We can begin the game." "Wait. Where's the bathroom," I ask. "Oh. By the end of the roller coaster. There's only human toilets; this is an old old place."

One awkward minute later, mini golf commenced. It's a game of plastic grass and a small ball called The Golfer's Mini-Ball. I don't know the real rules honestly but I pretend I do and I muddle through. Actually pretty soon it is clear that none of us know how to play. I nudged the ball through a round tube. "Oh that's the foul-of-the-tube: I am disqualified," i say, and leave politely. End of log 5

[ink-and-flame]

Kinktober Day 5: Nukklebust Productions Presents

Kinktober Day 5 Prompts: Kneeling ~ Triple penetration ~ Video (being recorded) Fandom: Original (Auchendale Archives) Tags: exophilia, m/f, slight f/f, orgy, triple penetration, kneeling, video recording, pornography, group sex, anal plug, sex toys, Pairing:GoblinM/HumanF, GoblinM/ElfF, HumanF/ElfF

[Authors Note: This is purely self indulgent smut that I have written for my own personal enjoyment and it is loosely based on a dream I had a few weeks ago. I was torn between putting this in Warcraft or not and I decided to put it in the Auchendale universe so I can use Ember since I kind of fell in love with her, which was unintentional since I made her on a whim. Vyzzie was borrowed from a friend with permission.]

The owners of The Scarlet Eclipse had some very firm rules on photography and video being taken in the club. The top rule was that in general it wasnt allowed. This was to help enforce privacy rules and ensure that the people who came to the club felt safe. The exception to the rule was, of course, pornography. The owners had a relationship with a few directors in the industry and allowed some of their rooms to be used for photo shoots and film shoots as long as nothing got out of hand and it was kept quiet. The location was never allowed to be revealed. 

There were limitations of course, no large productions, and only so many rooms could be rented out for this purpose. The club still needed to cater to its own clientele of course, and it opened up the opportunity for people to explore their own exhibitionist and voyeuristic fetishes. Once it became known, it was an open secret around the club. Privacy was still respected, but the owners invested in a remodel that turned a couple of the rooms into permanent filming areas. They could be accessed through a special door and from the outside and the area could be locked down if needed.

When not in use by professionals, the owners allowed club members to book the rooms for a fee and they would get a copy of the finished product for their own personal enjoyment. Some allowed their amateur films to be released online, most kept them private. VIP members of the club were allowed to use these areas for free with enough prior notice. As it was, there was a waiting list, and sometimes it could take a few months to gain access to one of the rooms, especially if you needed a specific one. 

The club owners had made it easy to check the availability of the rooms online, and there was a link to the waiting list. Anyone already on it could also check their place in the queue. Vyzzie had been checking every day for the last few weeks to see if his request had been bumped up in the queue. He had paid extra and used his friends VIP access to cut in line as much as he could. He was eager to do the scene and had been making preparations for almost two months now. The preparations had to be changed multiple times already as people had backed out and Vyz knew the longer it took the harder it would be to do.

Thankfully his friend had promised not to back out and had even suggested bringing someone along so she wasn’t the only female in the scene. It meant they could do much more with what they had left and the plans for the scene had begun to change. It was shaping up to be one of his better ideas, he just had to make sure the people still on board stayed on board. 

The idea had come about after a wild night with two chicks he didn’t really know well. He ended up getting kind of close to one of them and she had expressed a desire to have another threesome but with two guys instead. He knew someone that would be interested and it had been fun, but then they got to thinking, why not invite more people, and the idea developed into something that Vyz was quite eager for, as was his new friend Ember. 

Vyzzie had promised that he would only invite people she trusted, and Ember offered to bring her elf friend from the first time. It was shaping up to be quite a scene and once it was settled the negotiations began and everything was put in place with an understanding of what was expected of everyone. Simple color codes would be used instead of safe words so that everyone could be on the same page and no one got lost or confused.

When the day finally came Vyz could barely contain his excitement. He had gone over the details with Ember so many times that they both decided to share control of the situation. It also lead to copious amounts of sex between the two of them as every time they discussed it the conversation would inevitably arouse one or both of them. They had pretty much fucked on every surface in Vyzzie’s apartment, including his roommate's bed. That one he wasn’t particularly proud of when it was discovered and he had to do a lot of apologizing to make up for it. 

With Ember in tow and some luggage Vyz arrived at the club a few hours before the filming was going to start. This was pretty standard to give them time to set up, and get everyone ready. He was practically vibrating with excitement the goblin looking up at his human companion with mischievous violet eyes. 

“Ok, so it’s gonna be an hour before the others show up. I thought we could get everything set up and go over the negotiations one last time. Make sure nothin essential god missed.” Vyz opened the door to the main room and dropped off his bags before peeking into the equipment room off to the side. It housed all the recording equipment, back up servers, everything they needed but it was empty. “Ok looks like the crew ain’t here yet. S’fine, gives us a bit more time.”

Ember moved around the room checking things out and setting her luggage near the back wall and out of the way. She could change later. For now the room needed some work. The bed would be plenty large enough for all of them, not much else in the room would make it into the shot, but it was still worth it to spruce up the room and make it look nice. Despite what they were going to be doing, Ember wanted it to have a soft feeling and she began digging through the chests full of props and accessories to see how they could alter the look and feel of the room.

“Whatcha got there dollface?” Vyz had slipped up behind Ember, placing a hand on her ass and peering into the chest she was digging through. 

“I was hoping to find something to help the room look less plain and sterile. The bed is nice, its a good size. The furniture all matches and it looks ok. Has a bit of a hotel feel which might be on purpose, but I was kind of hoping for something a little different?” She looked at him and rolled her eyes when she felt him rubbing her ass. “You are getting awfully friendly there Vyzzie.”

“Yer my friend.” He quipped and pinched her. “Don’t worry. I remember. No attachments. Doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy the benefits package.” Smirking he dug through the chest with a free hand, black claws catching on some fabric. “I trust your taste. I know we were only at your place once, but I liked it. Lots of lights, colors. Had that weird gothic rainbow vibe going. You got a unique style Em, that is for sure.”

“How about we change the lamps, throw up some lights on the wall, drape some fabric around and soften the whole room up a bit. Considering what we are going to be doing, it will be a really interesting contrast I think.” Ember pulled some sheer fabric from the chest and began draping it on the headboard.

“I like how you think. Let the room be soft, the actions hard.” Vyz helped change out the room decor to match her vision. It was getting close to when the others should start arriving. “Hey, uh.. Emmy? You know if you aren’t sure about this or need to change some stuff I will understand. You know that right?”

Ember laughed. “Emmy?” She stepped over to Vyz, running a hand through his dark blue hair. “Yeah Vyz. I know. I wouldn’t have agreed to this if I didn’t trust you.”

“I will make sure your boundaries ain’t crossed. I know ya got some hang ups and all that. Don’t want there to be any pressure in the moment to do anything you ain’t sure of. I know how it gets once a scene starts and ya get caught up in it. Don’t want that ta happen here.”

Ember nodded. “That is why I brought a precaution. I really don’t like anal, and I won’t be able to relax if I worry that it might happen, even accidentally. So I brought a plug with me to help. If something is already there that I am comfortable with, then nothing else can go in and I can relax. I know it sounds counter intuitive and it took me a long time to get to a point where I can even use it, but it actually helps and functions in a way that lets me maintain control over it.”

“Not weird, makes a lot of sense actually. You control its size, when you use it, and it prevents anyone you are with from just having an ‘oops’ moment or doin the whole ‘it's better to ask forgiveness than permission’ nonsense. I hear ya, I support it. Need any help or just some privacy?” 

“I can go put it in myself, wont take me too long I prepared myself for it but didn’t want to have it in all day. Give me a few minutes to get ready if you want to finish the room?”

“Sure, no problem, I can get it done.” Vyz went back to putting the finishing touches on the room when the crew arrived. 

They began setting up the cameras at the goblins' instruction and made sure all the equipment was well hidden so as to not ruin the scene. There would only be so many angles shot and the final product would time some time to edit and put together into something polished and finished, ready for release, but Vyz was fine with waiting. 

He had initially thought to hire a scene director, someone to keep everyone on track, but instead chose to work through the scenario with everyone, set a basic structure, and then just let things happen naturally. He wanted it to be real, visceral, and that wouldn't happen if there was a script or strict direction to follow. 

Ember came back into the room with nothing but a mask and some thigh high socks on. The masquerade mask was small, simple, and not too bulky. It would stay on easily, and leave her mouth and nose free. The thigh highs were a request from Vyz. The only other things she had on was special body make up that would hide her tattoos and dried down so it wouldn’t smear. She had practiced with it before, going through an intense sex scene to see how well it held up to sweat and other body fluids along with friction. It held up well enough that she was confident in being filmed. She knew her tattoos were recognizable enough that she just wasn’t willing to risk it since Vyz made it clear this wasn’t going to stay private.

The muscular goblin let out a low whistle when he saw Ember. The thigh high socks were perfect. A soft looking material, black, and they hugged her thighs in a way that made it clear they wouldn’t move. The mask was black with silver accents and it made her look elegant. “Damn, you sure do make a pretty picture there Em. So uh, when is Vela gonna arrive?”

“She should have already been here. I told her she needed to get here early to get ready. I hope everything is ok. Let me text her real fast.” Heading back to her bags to grab her phone Ember didn’t notice the door opening again.

The rest of the goblins arrived as a group. Vyz greeting his friends and acquaintances with a smile. “Glad ta see ya made it boys. Ember is in the back finishin up and we are just waitin on Velasara. I think you only met Ember though” Vyz commented to his friend. 

Coming back out Ember paused to see a room full of goblins standing around. All eyes were suddenly on her and never before had she felt more like prey. The moment passed quickly but it was hard to shake as a few sets of eyes lingered. 

“Here lemme introduce you. Ember you already know Krazz from the party. Those two are Riznik and Viznik, twins if it wasn’t obvious, and that is Zorblix.” Vyz finished the introductions.

“Just Blix.” 

Ember nodded and waved. “I would appreciate it if my name wasn’t used during filming, if it is all the same.”

“Sure thing, not a problem. Anyone else?” Vyz knew that both women would be in masks, but he wasn’t sure about anyone else.”

“I’m good with not using names. We all wearing masks or just the girls?” Krazz rolled his shoulders  and looked for a place to set down his bag. “I brought one with me just in case. No offence but I am not sure I want to be recognized.”

“We can just avoid names entirely if it helps. I can’t imagine there is gonna to be much talkin” Vyz chimed in, his accent sounding much thicker in comparison to his friend. 

“I don’t really give a shit either way. Not my first rodeo, so it is all fine with me.” Blix moved off to the back of the room and began stripping. 

There was a knock interrupting the conversation and the door slowly opened. “Hello? I am sorry I am late.” Vela stepped in looking a bit frazzled. “Sorry got caught up and it took me some time to get everything together. I hope I didn’t put us too far behind?” 

“Nah, yer good, we ain’t even started.” Vyz waved the lithe elf over and gestured to the back. “Go get ready and we can do a final run through and just make sure everyone is on the same page before we begin.” Vyz moved back to the recording room and spoke to the staff there, making sure that they would be ready to go as soon as the group finished their preparations. 

While Vyzzie was busy, the rest of the goblins stripped and got ready for the scene. The twins were engaged in a bout of rock paper scissors to decide who got which girl to start as they wanted some separation to start. Krazz slipped on his own mask, looking a bit like a corvid with the beak design. It was a little flashy for porn, but it went well with Ember's mask. He hoped that he would get a shot with the human at some point as he had been attracted to her since they met at a party Vyz had invited him to. 

Blix was busy strapping on his harness and cock ring. Fully prepared for taking over should the others struggle with any part of the scene. Of all of them he had the most experience performing for the camera,  he knew the best angles, how to position himself, and all the tricks needed to not blow his load too quickly. Considering how hot the girls were in this scene, those were some tricks he was going to have to utilize. 

Velasara came back looking an almost striking opposite of Ember. Her thigh highs were white with ruffles, her mask had white feathers and delicate gold filigree. She was taller than Ember with a lithe and delicate frame and soft features. Comparatively her body was a bit more slender when compared to Ember's more generous curves. The contrast made the pair enticing to look upon and the goblins in the room struggled to remain professional. 

Ember leaned up and tugged Vela down to whisper in a long ear. The tittering laugh from the elf filld the room as both women seemed quite amused about something. It made Vyz a little suspicious and he hoped that this wasn’t going to be something he needed to worry about later. 

“Ok, so here is the scene. I figure it will be easier if we don’t all start at first. I was thinking the girls could have a solo scene together or with one other person involved, then we can introduce some others, or if we are worried about time, then maybe we all just start? Opinions?” Vyz was looking around at the people gathered and realized how this looked. He hadn’t meant to only invite goblins, that was how it worked out. With all the cancellations and rescheduling, this was the group he ended up with and looking at it objectively, this would probably end up in a fetish category when released, even if there wasn’t a ton of kink involved. 

“Well are you looking to build a plot or not? Like do we want to have dialog, a wisp of a story, or just get to the fucking already?” Ember asked as she leaned into Vela

“Good question, uh, any thoughts, I know we ain’t got a ton of time. I booked us for the rest of the day, but gettin shots set up can eat into that, and we don’t really have a script. I kinda wanted this ta feel natural, a bit more amateur and spontaneous.” Vyz admitted.

“Eh, speaking as the one with experience here. Neither are going to work. It is too late to try and fudge a script and just jumpin in is going to get someone injured. I say let the girls warm each other up, that should also warm the rest of us up and get the mood set. I can tell first timers when I see em and there are some nervous faces in this group.” Blix walked up to Vyz and gestured to the setting. “Plus, with a setting like this, it just screams lesbian porno. So why not start that way? Then we transition into the spit roasting, the group sex, multiple penetration shots, all of that.” He shrugged and his eyes widened. “Oh, condoms? We doing condoms or creampies?”

“Creampies” Vyz interjected. “That is why this took so long. Everyone had to test clean and have alternative forms of birth control. We can switch to condoms if anyone is still uncomfortable with sloppy seconds or had some questionable interactions since getting tested.”

“Ok so it seems like we are ready. Vela, after you.” Ember gestured to the bed and smiled as her elvish friend climbed up on the bed. Ember followed staying on her hands and knees while Vela got situated. 

“What the fuck is that?” Blix blurted out and both girls fell into hysterical laughter. 

It took several moments for them to calm down enough for Ember to speak. “I have some hangups where anal sex is involved. I felt the only way I would be able to relax is to ensure that it couldn’t happen, even accidentally. Thus, an anal plug.”

“Ok, yeah, I get it, makes perfect sense. What I meant, was why is it flashing like a rave?”

Ember fell over laughing again and just shook her head, it took her a bit to compose herself. “Look, it is a thing with me. I never do anything even halfway normal. You see my  hair. My house look like a goth and a unicorn got into a fight. I like bright shiny things and honestly with the lights on it shouldn’t even be that noticeable or a distraction. I set it to slow strobe and match the lights hanging on the wall above the bed.”

“Ok, alright. One more question. Where did you get it and how much?” Blix was laughing and shrugging at the stares he was getting. “What? I wanna add one to my collection ok?”

“Let's talk after. I can give you all the details.” Ember slid up next to Vela and gave her friend a gentle kiss. 

Both women were clearly nervous to start and Vyz knew that the first several minutes of footage probably wouldn’t be used. Watching them slowly explore each other was a different kind of arousing entirely, and it was difficult not to get caught up in the moment and just be content with watching. The slide of their bodies together, the soft moans, the way the colors of their limited clothing contrasted, it was a truly beautiful sight. One that Vyz was loathe to interrupt, but knew he would have to if they were going to get to the point of the scene. 

The others held back waiting for Vyz to give the signal, It was hard not to be entranced, watching the women together. Especially once it was clear that they forgot where they were and were simply focused on the pleasure. Vyz held off a bit longer, watching with a slow smile as the women rocked slowly together at first, then sped up. The sound of their shared orgasm rang through the room snapping the goblins out of the spell they had been under. 

Ember lay next to Vela, her breathing slowing to normal as they nuzzled and kissed each other. Hands still exploring as they enjoyed the afterglow of their shared pleasure. Ember would have to remember this, maybe invite Vela over sometime to just see how things might work out between them. Up until this moment Ember was certain her elvish friend was straight, maybe that was not the case now and it was something worth exploring, only later. 

The bed shifted slightly as Vyz hopped up on the bed, crawling over to Ember and nipping her shoulder and neck. Pulling her gently and slowly to another part of the bed. The only way this would work was with a bit more space between the woman. Krazz was next on the bed, slipping up next to Vela and stroking over her sides and hip, his hands slipping up to her breast, fingertips teasing over her nipple. 

Riz and Blix joined Krazz by the elf, all of their touches light. Wanting to start slow, ease into it. Viz, was the last to join, slipping up next to Ember and Vyz, nuzzling at the human’s ample chest. Everything was slow to start, no one wanting to be the first to break the soft moment that had somehow been created. Vyz was the first to lose his battle with desire and pushed Ember onto her stomach, slipping a pillow under her hips and angling her face away from him. 

It was simply impossible to resist her, the scent of her, the sight of her, Vyzzie buried his face against her nether lips and pushed his tongue in, tasting her depths. Lips crooked up in a half smile at the sound of her moans suddenly being muffled. He didn’t have to look to know what had just happened and he was excited at how much Ember seemed to be enjoying it. Cutting his oral exploration short, Vyzzie lifted up and angled himself behind her, pushing his hard cock against her slick opening. She was so wet, so much wetter than he had expected and found it was far easier to slide in that usual. 

While the flashing light was a bit of a distraction, Vyz found it easier and easier to ignore the deeper he slid into Ember until he was balls deep and groaning. His claws dug into her skin as his control slipped for just a moment and he had to pause before thrusting. His ears twitched at the sounds coming from the other end of the bed and he risked a glance over at the elf. The sight was almost enough for him to lose it right there and he had to snap his gaze back down to Ember. 

Vela was up on her knees, Riding Riz, with Blix behind her, and Krazz standing with a firm grip on her head as he thrust into her mouth. Blix was still gently preparing her with some lube and a finger while he encouraged Riz with a quiet voice to keep a slow pace and to gently stimulate her clit. Blix knew that increasing the elfs pleasure was going to keep her relaxed and make penetration much easier. The extra lube helped as well and he wanted to make sure that she was fully ready before even attempting penetration. His experience was why he was the one handling preparing her and subsequently the one to be granted the pleasure of having her that way. 

Viz was careful, his hands resting on Ember’s head more than holding it as he thrust into her mouth. He was originally going to let her set the pace, and at first he did, but found that it just felt too good and he could not resist the urge to move his hips. He was focused, entirely on her and how it felt to be so far in her mouth and pushing into her throat. The feeling was unlike any other he had experienced, as this was his first time really trying anything with a human. He had a preference for orcish women, but now he wasn’t so sure that would be the case going forward. There was something softer, sweeter, more delicate about a human and he was eager to have his turn with the elf as well. 

Ember’s eyes rolled back in her head as Vyz snapped his hips forward hitting that spot so deep that only he ever seemed to hit just right. The feel of someone both in her throat and fucking her was becoming overwhelming. It was everything she had wanted from this experience and a little more. She could tell Viz was going easy on her, and she tried to encourage him when he began thrusting into her mouth. Closing her eyes she swallowed around him, letting her throat constrict around the head of his cock making him moan. It clearly worked to erode at his control as his hips snapped forward suddenly. She opened her eyes and looked up at him, his expression was one of slight concern. She just nodded, hoping he understood. 

It was pure heaven when Viz finally took the hint that she could handle it and threaded his fingers tighter in her hair, getting a good grip and tugging as he pushed his cock deeper into her throat. She was no longer giving him a blowjob, he was fucking her face, and her moans got louder and louder as she drew closer to release. The feel of her friend fucking her so hard and deep, his balls slapping against her clit as his sharp claws left little pinpricks of pain in her hips increased the sense of euphoria washing over her. Ember slipped into a more relaxed state, letting her body go slightly limp so that she could more easily be penetrated by both goblins. Soon her nose was pressed into the dark curls above Viz’s shaft as she felt his cock swell in her throat. A loud sharp moan from above her and the sudden heat in her throat let her know the goblin had reached climax.

Rope after rope of cum was pumped into her throat as Viz pulled out, some of his seed coating her mouth and lips, some hitting the mask as he fell back panting, clearly worried that he was choking her. With her airway free Ember could be better heard as she also reached climax almost the same time as Vyz did inside of her. The combined pleasure of dual penetration and stimulation was more than enough to send Ember over the edge hard. Vyz hunched over her back as he found his own release. 

Vela was on edge as well with Krazz thrusting more firmly into her mouth while Blix had slowly pushed inside of her. The feeling over all her holes being filled was one she had never thought she would enjoy and was now worried she would become addicted to. Somehow Riz and Blix found a Rhythm that kept almost constant stimulation within her, an almost overwhelming sensation as she was filled beyond anything she had ever experienced before. Surprisingly Vela was the first to reach release, easily, as Riz had continued stimulating her clit while she rode him. Since they were not closed to finished, the goblins did not stop and continued to fuck the elf right through her first orgasm. 

Blix helped Riz by taking over the clitoral stimulation so the other goblin could get a better grip on the elf to thrust deeper and faster up into her. Krazz kept his movements slow, despite wanting to just let go. He wanted to keep an eye on her to ensure that she remained ok, and he wanted to draw this out as much as possible. Vela was well on her way towards a second orgasm when Riz thrust up hard into her with a loud cry, his body shaking slightly as he emptied his seed inside of her. He could tell that Blix would probably be next and helped by reaching up and teasing Vela’s nipples to see if he could send the elf over the edge again.

Vela came almost at the same time as Blix who had snarled as he finally came, almost biting her and stopping himself at the last minute as he just pressed his forehead against her back and rode out his own pleasure while pumping his cum deep inside of her. The contractions of her body milking him for every drop he had as his grip on her remained tight. Krazz was the last to release, finally letting himself go and speeding up, pushing almost his full length into her throat with a loud cry. He almost fell over from the intense pleasure as he had unintentionally edged himself for the last bit of it. 

Carefully the goblins pulled out of their partners and all that could be heard was the sound of light panting and breathing normalizing. Vyz was the first one to speak. “Ok swap? Who wants to swap.”

Krazz raised his hand. “I call your position.” The others laughed at how quickly he responded. 

Blix shook his head. “I am good where I am if there are no complaints?” 

“Nah, I’m good, I’ll swap.” Riz offered. “Unless you want to stay with Ember Vyz?”

“That would put you and your brother on the same girl, that ok?”

“I don’t care, as long as our balls don’t touch it ain’t gay right?” Viz offered as a joke, he new that gay wasn’t the problem in that scenario, but it wouldn’t be the first time they had shared.

Ember lost it a little bit at that and then so did Vela. The boys had to wait for the giggling to die down before new positions could be achieved. Krazz rolled Ember onto her side, moving the pillow. 

“This ok?” He asked before positioning her leg up on his shoulder. 

Ember nodded and tilted her head up at Vyzzie. She had expected him to take a turn with Vela, and maybe he would, the night was young and there was no reason that they wouldn’t swap positions a few more times, especially with some of the ideas Vyz had shared with her during planning. He was smiling at her, stroking her hair away from her mask and carefully wiping the cum from it. Ember realized, from the look in his eyes that they might need to have a conversation later. It was clear an attachment might be forming and she just wasn’t ready for another relationship. Something she hoped wouldn’t ruin the friendship they already had. Glancing down she could see the eager look in Krazz’s eyes as he gazed down at her, positioning himself against her cum soaked folds. Ok, strike that, maybe a conversation with Vyz could happen after she got him and Krazz alone sometime and had them fuck her absolutely senseless. She had a feeling this was going to be a bit of a wild ride and while she still could she glanced over to see Vela being re positioned, clear glee on her friends face, even with the mask there was no missing that expression. 

The night was filled with the sounds of moans as the group quickly forgot the cameras and worked on trying as many different positions and combinations as they could before eventually collapsing in and exhausted heap and snuggling up together before the staff gently reminded them that closing time was less than an hour away. 

Overall, the experience had been one that wouldn’t be easily forgotten and new friends had been made from the most unlikely of scenarios. They all agreed that this was something they would like to try again, maybe with a script and more elaborate costumes, but that was a conversation for a later date when everyone was clean and well rested.

[softbiker]

Steve Rogers Oneshot

Warnings: mentions of character death, cursing, haunting, spooky stuff, angst

Word count: 7.1k

Summary: Steve Rogers is a man out of time. He knows more ghosts than people. One of his ghosts has come home. 

A/N: This is waaaay longer than I normally write, but I just wanted to do it justice. This is my submission for @barnesrogersvstheworld​ AYAOTD writing challenge! Sort of an Endgame AU, also features an appearance from a rather obscure Marvel comics character. The prompt I had was “Don’t look behind you.” - it’s highlighted in bold. This is also really sad. I’m sorry for that...but please let me know what you think! 

His tastes have changed.

Most people wouldn’t have known that - wouldn’t have seen anything abnormal about a 100+ year old man reaching for minute oatmeal and Folgers at the grocery store. There had been a few articles, before, in health or men’s interest magazines, about the ‘Super Soldier Diet’. They were much more colorful than this - full of sugary cereals and peanut butter and seasonal frappuccinos. The articles always ended with reminders that a normal human should reach for more nutritious foods.

Steve pulls his oats - plain, made with water, no sweetener - from the microwave, and stirs just a little. Not thick enough; he replaces the bowl and adds another 30 seconds to the microwave timer. On the counter, the Mr. Coffee drips away, slowly filling the pot.

He eats quietly, perched on a stool at the island; he never uses the table anymore. A few news highlights appear in the notifications on his phone, and he scrolls through them, eyes scanning as he spoons his tasteless breakfast into his mouth.

New York Nears Completion of Relocation Program he reads, letting his thumb swipe down to read more of the article.

“Almost three years after the globally devastating event in which Earth’s population was reduced by half, the people of New York City are finally seeing a light at the end of the tunnel in their relocation efforts for residents whose homes were damaged or destroyed in the aftermath of the Decimation. The project, one of the last proposals by Tony Stark before his retirement from the Department of Damage Control, is expected to end-”

He closes his phone.

**********

There are three support group meetings that he attends each week - two as a leader, one as a participant.

“You should come, Nat.” He’s a broken record, but he just keeps spinning. Like the planet, like the solar system. If he falls out of orbit- “Just once. You might be surprised…”

“Some of us still have jobs, Steve.” She raises a still perfect eyebrow, now back to its natural red. He finds a little comfort in that.

“They’re not mutually exclusive.”

“Maybe not. But don’t wait up for me.”

The Tuesday meeting is the hardest, though it was the first one he ever lead. It caters to a specific group, a group that looks to him because...well, because he lost what they lost. He wonders if they know, if they realize, that it’s all his fault.

“Jackie was...she was my rock, you know?” The new woman, Elsie, sniffs as she continues. “We went through a lot together, and I remember thinking all that time ‘God, what would I do without her?’ And now I know the answer - spiral and-and become an alcoholic.”

“You can’t blame yourself for all of that.” Steve shakes his head. “There was so much more going on - the world was practically in flames, and you were trying to cope. What matters is that you’re here now, trying to get better.”

Elsie is nodding, accepting a tissue from the man sitting next to her. She gives a shaky little smile and settles back in her chair, done sharing for now. Steve glances around the circle, waiting for someone else to speak up.

It was such an odd reversal for him, especially at first. When he first wandered into one of Sam’s support group meetings, he had felt out of place and alone - and that feeling was exactly why he belonged in a place like that. Sam could see it. It was one of his gifts; he was better at reading people than anyone Steve knew, except maybe Natasha. Even when Bucky came along, and Sam played the tough act, he could see all of that fear and pain, and knew exactly what to do with it. Over the years they were in hiding, Sam would secretly reach out to Bucky - during their visits in Wakanda, Steve found the two of them sitting at the lake behind Bucky’s hut and talking, low and intense.

“You know, sometimes-” It’s a man on the opposite side of the circle, dark-skinned with a greying beard. “I don’t know about all of you, but sometimes...I wonder if they can see us. If they know what we’re doing. Does that make any sense?”

He gets a few nods and murmurs from the group, so he goes on.

“I mean, after my old man died, my mom used to say he was watching over me.” He swallows thickly. “She was on her own, tucking a 9-year-old boy in at night, and telling me that Daddy could see me from heaven, that he was looking out for me. And I just think....well, I wanna know - where are they? Are they in heaven? Is that even possible?”

He turns to Steve, several of the people in the circle do. It’s always like this - whenever the sessions turn to specific questions or musings about what happened, they look to him. Because shouldn’t he know? He had lead them, he failed them, he was there when their lives went up in dust.

“Well, I don’t think I’m qualified to offer religious advice,” he starts with a rueful smile. “And, from everything I’ve seen, I don’t think we even know what’s possible. All I know is, we can’t live in the past...even if they see us, wherever they are, we have to accept that they’re really...gone.” He crossed his arms. “They’re not here with us anymore.”

The group has gone quiet, reflective. Most are staring at their hands rather than him, each lost in their own haze of memory and ashes. He wishes he could offer them more, but he knows grief like this, and Steve Rogers is honest to a fault - he won’t lie, even for the sake of comfort.

“We’re on our own now.”

**********

He goes for runs alone now.

No Bucky to keep up with him, pushing the pace and trying to trip him. No Sam to complain about his hamstrings and insist on coffee afterwards. Not even music on those weird tiny headphones she had gotten him. Just his sneakers and pavement and the sound of his own breath. Sometimes he hated that - how he never got winded anymore, never sounded hurt and tired, the way he would wheeze through his asthma attacks with Bucky holding him up and reminding him how to pull in air. The machine of his body was too efficient for that.

In his apartment, he takes short showers, cold and fast, like in the Army. The soap is blue, with a generic smell that is clean and reminds him of nothing. He turns and tilts his head back under the spray, allowing a few more seconds to rinse and-

He nearly jumps when a burst of heat runs down his back.

The water has suddenly turned hot, a steamy, balmy, sultry hot that turns his soft Irish skin pink. He had never had this problem with his showers before - never run out of cold water certainly. Maybe something was wrong with the…

When he turned around, he saw the hot water knob turning slowly clockwise, centimeter by centimeter, untouched.

He shut off the water and got out.

**********

“I’m gonna have to call a plumber sometime.”

“Oh yeah? I thought all you old guys were handymen.”

“Ha ha.” He watches Nat scoop some spaghetti into bowls for the two of them. “I was the artist type. Not really handy around the house.”

“Guess that means Barnes was wearing the pants?” She’s smirking, and he feels like he’s seeing the real Nat again, so he goes along with the joke.

“How could he not? Who’s gonna let a 90-pound asthmatic wear the pants?”

“So what’s wrong with your plumbing?” Nat peeks over the fridge door as she grabs some parmesan and a bottle of wine. Steve, under strict orders not to help, is watching from the kitchen table.

“It’s my shower, something happened the other day. The water turned hot while I was in the middle of showering, even though I had it turned cold.”

“Hm. Weird.”

Steve comes out here at least once a month, or as often as he can. He sees the way that Natasha would rather slip into her work, lose herself in the business of holding the pieces of the world together, let go of her own life. The pantry, open and visible from where he’s sitting, is stocked with the bare minimum dry goods and canned foods; the fridge isn’t much better. He’s seen her on missions, seen her at home in her mismatched socks; he knows that she’d barely feed herself, surviving on a sandwich a day, if the thought or the hunger struck her. So he comes and threatens to cook and she saves the compound from being burned down by making a meal for the two of them.

It’s a far cry from normal. From pizza nights with Sam and Wanda at the compound, the two of them taking turns introducing Steve to movies he missed - all the “classics” he hadn’t heard of. They were missing their monthly family dinners, too; Tony always made room in his schedule to attend, dragging Pepper along from the office, and Steve sat at the head of their long dining table watching this strange, funny little family he had share and eat and laugh with each other.

Now he sits across from Natasha at a table otherwise occupied by her scattered files and reports, a pair of pointe shoes laying in the chair next to her. He didn’t come often enough to expect her to clean for him. She had enough on her plate.

“You know, I was talking to Carol last week,” Nat says, twirling her pasta around her fork. “And she said she might make it to visit us next month. It’ll depend on that trafficking case she was working in the Pegasus galaxy.” She shrugs a little.

“That’s good.” Steve chews, sips his wine. “It would be nice to see her.”

They don’t talk much throughout their meal; there isn’t much new to share. Through the floor-to-ceiling windows along the wall of the compound, Steve watches the early sunset fall over the grounds, shadows reaching and reaching, as quiet as it was empty.

**********

Sometimes, sometimes, when he’s feeling more stupid than usual, he opens the drawer.

That drawer. The lower one in his bedside table. With her box inside.

The box isn’t really anything special - just plain black, with her name written on the top. He got it at the suggestion of the team’s - his - therapist, Dr. Rajan. She recommended that putting some things away, rather than leaving them around his room, might help him move on, realize that his life had changed. He thought about putting the compass in the box, too, but it felt wrong. She wouldn’t want that in there. Somehow it mostly ends up in his pocket, and he stares at it from time to time, at the picture inside, thinking about words like should have and what if.

He’s staring at the drawer now, remembering the night before, when he thought about getting the box after he shuffled in from support group. When he was halfway through his flask of that Asgardian shit he kept under the bed. Steve had shuffled out of his clothes and fallen asleep in his underwear instead, flask still clutched in his hand, just sober enough to turn down the bad idea.

So why was the drawer open?

**********

“Have you thought about getting back out there? Dating again?”

His laugh is humorless.

“Doc, come on. I think we both know I’m not the type.”

“All we know is that you’re a serial monogamist.” She smiles. “And a very eligible one.”

“Sure, but…” Steve pauses, rubbing his palms against his jeans. He looks around the office, trying to find something to focus on. “I feel lucky...really lucky, to have had the kind of love I got. I mean, I never really expected to have it, not after I woke up in this century. And then, with her, it just sort of happened so naturally...well, lightning never strikes twice, as the saying goes.”

“It seems like, for you at least, it did,” Dr. Rajan raises her brows. “Two great loves in one lifetime? More rare than lightning.”

He runs a hand through his hair, still long on the top.

“I-I guess so. But it won’t strike a third time.”

“Because you’re not going to give it a chance?”

“You know me too well, doc.” His smile is apologetic, kind.

**********

At night, he sweats through dreams of her. His legs tangle in sheets where they used to twist and curl around her. The pillows smell only of him, his blue generic soap, but in his mind, locked somewhere far and sweet, her scent fills the air. Fills him up until he tastes it.

He tastes her, too, in dreams; under him, around him, pressed close in that intimate haze only lovers can know. Her lips chase his and smile into his mouth, following the curve of his jaw as he tucks his own face into her neck. It’s in his veins now, her smell and taste, ripe and alive on his tongue and oh, he’s swimming in it. She sighs, blissful, and sinks her teeth into that spot at the base of his throat-

Bedsheets fly off him as he bolts upright in bed, chest heaving, the sweat rolling in little beads down his temple. The smell is fading, drifting away from the room even as he tries to hold on to it; she was here, right here, and it had all felt so real, having her in his arms again. But now he’s wading back to consciousness, unwillingly, the tide of his dream pulling away from the shore and tugging at his ankles, carrying her with it. He wants to drift out to sea on it, drown in it, never resurface in this half-empty world.

Always so dramatic, Rogers.

Something nags at the corner of his eye, and he turns to the bedside table. In the pre-dawn light of the window, he can see the second drawer open. Her box is pulled forward to the front of the drawer with its lid propped up, asking, begging to be seen. He feels himself almost chasing the tide, diving back in as he leans over the side of his bed…

He slams the drawer shut.

Steve blows a harsh breath past his lips and swings his legs out of bed, tugging the sheet from between his thighs. His bare feet brush the cold wood and he arches up on his toes, tight muscles protesting the stretch. Palms scrub at his heavy eyes, brushing away what he can of his sleep. He has no plans to go back to bed, not now. He’ll just get an early start on his run. Maybe put in a few extra miles. He runs a hand through his hair, fingernails scratching absently at his scalp.

Stumbling into the bathroom, he turns the cold water tap in the sink and splashes his face a few times, feeling the two-day stubble on his cheeks. The shave can wait until after his run, he thinks. He stands straighter and reaches for the towel next to the sink, patting his face dry - he leaves his eyes closed, buried in the cotton for a moment before meeting his own gaze in the mirror. Immediately his eyes are drawn down to - what the hell is that?

At the base of his neck, just where it meets his shoulder, is a small red mark. A love bite. He presses it with a finger and hisses at the tenderness of the skin. Unbidden, the wave of his dream crashes over him, rolling him under, and he can almost feel her lips again…

The hair on the back of his neck and arms is standing straight up, his body gone cold all over. He thinks, maybe, he should go back to bed after all. Somewhere deep in the back of his mind, he hears his own name. What if...what if she’s waiting for me? He almost turns around, almost looks at the rumpled bed, almost expects her to be in it, rolling over in that tangled mess and smiling past the curve of her shoulder…

He yanks on a hoodie and running pants, toeing into his sneakers without socks, and leaves the apartment unlocked. Hardly knowing it, he clocks 50 miles, the sun high overhead before he can force his legs to stop, even his enhanced muscles starting to twitch. His sweat is still cold.

**********

There’s a memorial. Lots of them, actually.

All the major cities have at least one, and New York has built theirs, unsurprisingly, in Memorial Park. It’s huge, a sprawling garden of sculpture installations covered overhead by a soft white canopy. A retaining wall, approximately 3 feet high, lines the garden beds and holds in the dark rubber mulch, its outer white brick etched with the names of the lost. Even Steve could admit that it was beautiful, and so different from the solemn obelisks and walls of names he had expected when the memorial was announced.

The city had commissioned a team of artists, led by the famous Chihuly, to create blown glass sculptures using...well, as much of the collected ashes of decimated people as they could. “Cremation glass” it was called. The concept was morbid; though symbolically beautiful, most hadn’t imagined a stunning art gallery, more suited to the Met than this mass grave of the unknown.

Steve was there when it was dedicated, as was Tony. He was asked to say a few words, and he did; he has no idea, now, what he read from those cards handed to him by the administrative team. A black suit stretched around his shoulders, no shield in sight, his tie more like a noose as he watched the somber faces of the attendees. Loved ones and friends of people he had failed. A living memorial. Tony stood next to him, year-old wedding band still shining as he crossed his hands in front of him and declined to speak.

There are a few locations he has memorized around the park, the Lost Garden, as it has been named. A blooming blue hydrangea bush, sculpted white flowers and leaves pressed between the green, with the name “James B. Barnes” carved a few inches below. Across from it, red and yellow globes hang from a white tree, the round shadows falling over “Samuel Wilson”. Two rows over, an exploding tower of tangled green and blue spirals, surrounded by bushes, guards the name “Wanda Maximoff”.

Hers is carved neatly - block letters, plain font - into the white brick near the entrance of the memorial. Above it, a cherry blossom tree blooms sweetly, the pink flowers joined by purple and pink glass stems sprouting up from the ground around the trunk of the tree. Soft green bushes hem in the sculpture, as though keeping the glass from growing too far. It’s whimsical, charming. Elegant.

He fucking hates it.

He hates how this is meant to honor her - the vibrancy of her memory, the slyness of her smile, the passion of her love, the ferocity of her anger. She was more solid and real and hard than the delicate stems of glass that stood for her now. It wasn’t even her ashes in there anyway - he knows that for certain. He knows because he felt her drift through his hands under a hot Wakandan sun. He had watched the dust float and settle and knew that all the parts of her he kissed and held were under his feet and in his mouth and Jesus God it made him want to scream.

He doesn’t know whose ashes are here, in the glass above her name. But he wants to smash it. Put a fist through it. Hear that tinkling glass shatter on the ground the way she did. It would only be right.

As he stands there, staring at the falling cherry blossoms scattered around the sculpture, he feels the air go cold around him. His whole body breaks out in goosebumps and the little hairs on the back of his neck start prickling. He shudders, looking around, but no one else is nearby. It’s a late spring day, warm and getting warmer, with the sun beaming through scattered clouds. He shouldn’t be shivering.

The wind picks up, light breeze growing stronger, and the long stalks of glass begin to vibrate. A low hum builds as the wind carves its way between the sculptures, a plaintive, lonely noise that he feels low in his belly.

Steve…

He whips his head around, looking up and down the row, but he’s alone - no one else is here. That whisper, his name, it was so close…

Steeeeve

He’s turning a full circle, looking for a microphone or a drone or something tiny like Scott’s suit.

“Hello? Who’s there?”

Stevie …

A cloud of cherry blossoms billows into his face, making him jump back. The chill sinks through his skin, slips down his spine bone by bone with each breath. His heart is hammering hard and fast. That name, that voice - it’s been three years. They’re gone. It’s not possible. He closes his eyes as he feels a presence close beside him, right at his shoulder, and he knows, he knows if he turns his head she’ll be-

“Captain Rogers? You alright?”

He jumps again, startled, and looks over to see a policeman watching him, eyes wary and concerned. The officer was young, like all of them now - mass recruiting in public services has been going on for a couple of years, with things nearly falling into chaos after...everything. The military, the police, trying to swell their numbers enough with what was left of the population to keep the world in check. Not like the Avengers were doing a very good job.

“Captain?” The young officer asks again, inching a half-step towards Steve. His hand, unconsciously, twitches towards his radio.

“I’m fine - really,” Steve shakes his head and offers a smile. “Everything’s fine. Just...remembering someone.”

The kid nods; Steve wonders if he himself ever looked so young in a uniform.

“I understand.” He’s tugging at his uniform jacket. “My, uh, parents - they’re over there.” He points at a patch of lilies, not far from Wanda. “And my brother.”

“I’m so sorry.”

That’s all he ever says these days. I’m sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Everyone pretends that it’s enough.

He walks the kid - the officer - back to his patrol car, shakes his hand; the boy has to crane his head back to look up at him, and he stares up at Steve like there’s still hope in this world. Steve doesn’t have the heart to tell him.

**********

The chill follows him into the summer. Even with the sun high and New York sweltering with heat, Steve shivers in his apartment, cold biting at him until he aches with it. He cranks the heat on his thermostat, yet still finds a harsh breeze blowing through his apartment somehow. He allows the shower faucet to continue turning hot - blistering hot, the way she liked it - now that this chill won’t let him go.

Despite that, he finds himself staying in more than ever. He was never exactly a social butterfly - Bucky could testify to that. It tumbles him into memory: Bucky, slicked-back hair and spit-shined shoes, a rose tucked into the lapel of his jacket; Bucky, chin thrown back and ready to laugh at the world, an arm around Steve’s shoulders as he drags them on yet another double date. “Ya gotta get out more, Rogers,” he’d say, cigarette tucked behind his ear. “I’m a piss-poor excuse for real company.”

The only people he sees now are Dr. Rajan and the members of his support groups. Occasionally Nat, but she’s been traveling more lately, following the crumbs of Clint’s trail. Their emails are few and far between, containing only the bare bones.

It’s a Friday night - or maybe it’s Saturday, Sunday. He sits on the edge of his bed, turning the little thing over in his hands. The compass stays in his pocket most days. He flips it open, stares at the portrait inside, the one he’s had memorized since ‘43. He could draw it with his eyes closed, probably.

Suddenly, the compass snaps shut, unbidden, in his hand. It shakes, the mechanisms inside rattling violently, and grows hot to the touch. He yelps and it falls from his palm, dropping to the floor between his feet. The skin of his hands is red, scalded, and he flexes his fingers, watching the trinket warily. It lies on the floor, perfectly still.

Behind him, he hears the second drawer of his dresser roll open.

**********

More dreams come to him, sweet ones, and he sinks into them without protest. He falls into his bed at night happily, searching for the smell of her somewhere behind his eyes. She’s always there, always smiling for him, reaching and pulling him further down into their own special hiding place. She’s there in her uniform, in her sweatpants, in his t-shirt, in nothing at all.

“C’mere, Stevie baby,” she nuzzles his nose, and he’s close to tears but he doesn’t know why. Then she’s tugging at his own clothes and he’s not thinking about it at all.

The ache in his throat returns when he wakes empty-handed and alone. Beneath his jaw, a line of hickeys leads down his neck and across his shoulder. His breath puffs in small clouds as he pants and tries not to cry.

**********

“You don’t look so good, Steve.” Nat’s tone is worried, her voice tight. She watches him stare at the wall with a cup of coffee in his massive hands. “Have you been sleeping?”

He nearly chuckles at that.

“A little too much, I think.” He goes quiet then, mouth turning back down, carved sadness in that larger-than-life face.

“I think...God, Nat,” Steve slumps forward, elbows on his knees. “I think I’m losing my mind.”

“Join the club.” She sits down next to him, sliding a soft hand across his back. Her voice is just above a whisper. “We’re all still struggling. You know that. You’ve seen it. Sometimes it feels...it feels like...you’re just holding on by a thread.”

He’s shaking his head before she finishes.

“Have you - do you dream about them? Ever?”

“Of course.”

“No, I mean…” Steve rubs his eyes. “I mean...do the dreams feel...when you wake up, does it feel like it really happened.”

Nat frowns.

“I’m not following you, Steve.”

He sighs, heavy and resigned.

“No, I know. I’m not making any sense.” He leans into her embrace a little. He likes the contact of it. Hasn’t had that in a long time.

“Listen, Nat. I know S.H.I.E.L.D. used to keep a lot of records of...enhanced individuals…”

“Sure. Everyone that pinged on their radar,” she nods. “So, pretty much anyone with abilities.”

“I need to have a look at them.”

“Anything in particular you’re looking for?”

“Yes. But if I told you, you’d have me committed.”

“Yeah, that really makes me want to help you.” She leans her head against his shoulder, fingers squeezing his bicep. Her voice still soft and low. “Tell me what you need.”

**********

They meet in a public place. It’s not hard now, with the world half-dead, to go about their business as though they are two men with nothing to hide. A bright, hot July sun beats on their heads, and Steve adjusts his sunglasses as a bead of sweat slides down his neck. On the street, traffic grumbles along, bikers and street vendors and tourists darting between. The hard metal chair of the café presses into the soft underside of his knees, leaving little dents in his skin.

“It is nice to finally meet you, Captain,” the man across from him smiles. The white symbol on his forehead stands out starkly against his dark skin. “I understand we move in different circles.”

They’re sitting outside a small restaurant in Port-au-Prince, only coffee on the table in front of them. The heat is sweltering, oppressive, different from the New York heat that Steve knows. Part of him wishes they were near the beach, with the wind coming off the ocean. She would have begged him to go to the beach.

“That we do,” Steve raises his eyebrows. “Even with everything that’s happened, aliens, Thanos...things like magic are still...hard to believe.”

“Hm.” Jericho Drumm leans back in his chair, steeples his fingers. “I think you are here because...it’s not so hard anymore, yes?”

He grits his teeth. There are fingernail scratches on his back and they chafe against the sweaty cotton of his shirt.

“You’re a smart man, Jericho,” he sighs. “And I think you might be the only person who can help me.”

Jericho Drumm nods.

“Yes, I think so, too.”

According to the S.H.I.E.L.D. files Steve spent all his free time digging through, there were only a few enhanced individuals with supernatural abilities. And now half of them were gone. Some, like the sorcerer Tony told him about, had managed to stay under the radar for thousands of years. With precious little to go on besides an alias, Steve commandeered a quinjet and packed a bag for Haiti.

“What you are asking me...communication with the spirits…” Jericho shakes his head. “It’s not what you think. Or what it looks like in the movies.”

“Then tell me,” Steve presses, leaning his elbows on the table. His coffee is half full. He can see his reflection in the oily surface of it.

“I’ve served as a houngan for many years; I’ve served as Sorcerer Supreme. In fact, with Stephen Strange gone, they may ask me to serve again. But inviting spirits into this world is a dangerous practice - not white magic.”

“But it can be done?”

Jericho narrows his eyes. The white streak in his hair is bright in the noonday sun.

“When Thanos tore a rift in this world, in this universe,” he speaks slowly, choosing his words with careful consideration. “He tore through the other side as well. The things he’s done affect us all, the living and the dead. It is possible, the things you describe, are caused by this. A ripple effect, if you will. A door not closed.”

“A ripple.”

“Yes. However,” Drumm raises a finger, leaning forward to speak in a low voice. “I will say something else. I may have years of experience with the supernatural, but I studied psychology as well. My time in America was mostly in a university, studying the human mind, how it works…” He pauses for a moment, giving Steve a look that is on the suspicious side of apologetic. “Our minds are powerful. When a person wishes for things, even terrible things, the mind can give them what they seek.”

Steve closes his eyes, jaw tightening.

“Believe me, I know how I sound,” he sighs. “I know. My therapist says the same thing. But if anyone’s going to believe me, it’s you. This is not in my mind.” His fingers are shaking and he curls them into fists. “This is real. She’s...it’s real. It’s her.” Haunting me.

Dr. Drumm nods, sympathetic and quiet. He watches this captain, this legend, the age showing in his young man’s body. With the sunglasses propped up on his head, the dark circles beneath Steve’s puffy eyes are on full display. His shoulders curl in, posture defensive, small. His knee bounces under the table, and his jaw ticks every so often, teeth clicking in his mouth. There is a bruise visible at the base of his neck where the collar of his shirt has shifted to one side.

“Very well, Captain. I will do my best to help you.”

**********

He sits cross-legged on the tile floor of the bathroom, surveying the items in front of him. According to Dr. Drumm, he would need only a few candles, items that belonged to her, a circle of salt to protect himself. Incense, too, burning in the corner, the smell of sage and smoke floating around him. The lights are off, only the flickering candles illuminating the room.

He feels a little silly, setting all of this up. When he was a boy, vampires and werewolves and ghosts were all just stories - hiding under the covers with Bucky and scaring themselves silly. No real monsters hid under his bed. All of that came later.

Under his shirt, the amulet rests against his chest, growing warm with his own body heat.

“If you must do this alone as you insist,” Jericho had said, shaking his head. “Then wear this. Bene gris-gris. It is the best I can do to protect you from dark magic.” His steel grip closed around Steve’s arm. “And this may be a dark thing, Captain. Her coming back to you. It doesn’t feel like white magic.”

Steve had only nodded, his hand closing around the amulet. He was beyond light and dark now, beyond counting costs. He had chased ghosts for so long after he woke up. It’s only right for him to chase her, too.

Here, in the bathroom, toes pressed to cold tile, he digs two more items out of his pockets. Dr. Drumm said to bring something that would ground him to himself, something special. He turns the compass over in his hand, flicks it open, and sets it on the edge of the circle. From the other pocket, he fishes a black velvet box. His fingers twitch, feeling the soft fabric; he doesn’t want to open it. He hasn’t opened it, since he took the ring off their nightstand in Wakanda and put it back in the box. She hadn’t worn it - didn’t like wearing it on missions or in fights. Afraid of scratching it. She had wiggled it off her finger, smiling at him, leaving a kiss on his bearded jaw-

He leaves the box closed for now, and places it in the center next to the other tokens - a photo of her, a necklace with a small silver pendant she used to wear whenever they went on dinner dates, a little jar of seashells from a beach vacation she took in college. All the little things he had packed away in that nightstand drawer. Memories he had put into storage.

Safe inside his little circle, he reaches in his shirt and grabs the amulet tight in his fist. He closes his eyes. Breathes deep the incense and soft curling smoke from his candles.

He says her name softly in the dark.

In his mind, he shifts his awareness down the plane of his body, piece by piece. He learned meditation techniques during his therapy sessions; now he has another use for them. He says her name again.

“I want to speak to you.” He says, voice low, a lover’s intimacy. “I call on your spirit.”

Her name. Her name. Her name.

He’s not sure how long he stays there, curled on the floor, but the chant of her name lulls him into a trance. His eyes are half-open, the candles wavering in front of him, casting long shadows on the walls. He licks his lips, calls her name again.

One by one, the candles snuff out.

He goes quiet. Smoke curls up to his nose, but he can’t see - the only light is coming from underneath the bathroom door. That familiar chill trickles down the back of his neck, raising the hairs. His flesh is covered in goosebumps; his muscles tense up, coiled tight, ready to spring. His tongue lies dry and thick against his teeth.

“Hello?”

Steve?

He sighs her name. “Sweetheart, is that you?”

A cold breeze passes over his face, rumpling his shirt.

“Are you there?”

The compass flies up and smashes against the wall.

Steve…

Her voice is harsher. Sadder.

“Baby, please,” he’s begging now. He can feel how close she is, she’s in the room, he knows it like he knows his own body. Like he knew hers.

For the first 25 years of his life, he lived with asthma - any little trigger could set him aching for air, his lungs betraying their purpose and seizing up on him, his whole body trembling in relief when he managed to pull in oxygen. He feels that ache for her now - acute and sharp as it was the day he first lost her, a physical pain and its cure so close, so close, if she would only let him - let him breathe-

Oh, Steve.

“Honey, I’m here, I’m right here.” He stands in his little circle, spinning around, though he still sees nothing in the darkened bathroom. He feels the tip of his nose go numb in the frigid air, his body shivering slightly.

I’m here, too, Stevie.

“Where, baby? Where are you?” He’s desperate, so desperate. He’s going to cry if she doesn’t-

I’m here. Look.

He feels, thinks he feels, cold fingers brush down his cheek, and he turns. The mirror above the sink is frosted over, he can see it now that his eyes are adjusting to the pale dark, and he stumbles towards it. Pulls a sleeve down over his hand and wipes at the fog, the remains of his body heat melting it away in streaks.

“Oh...oh god.” He grips the edges of the sink.

Hi, baby.

There she is. There she is. Standing right behind him, over his shoulder. His eyes sweep over her face in the mirror, scanning the details he never forgot, not for a moment. Her lips quirk a sad little smile, tilting her head.

You don’t look so good, Rogers.

His laugh comes out as a sob, and he nods. Fingers curl tighter over the edge of the sink because it’s all that’s holding him up right now. In the reflection, he sees her take a step closer to him - feels her presence, her smell is right behind him and if he can just turn and take her in his arms then everything will be alright again…

NO DON’T!

The force of it is loud in his mind, sends him reeling forward against the sink. Her lips are trembling in a soft frown.

Don’t look behind you.

It sounds so soft. So sad. And he knows, knows in the marrow of his bones, that this is it, this is all they can have. This halfway, this inbetween, this ships in the night barely seen as they pass - it’s all he gets. All he has left.

He presses his hand to the cold glass of the mirror, tips of his fingers stroking the image of her face. His chin feels weak, jaw slack, his hip leaning against the sink. She’s crying, too, tears shining against her soft cheeks.

“Where are you? Do you know what’s happening?” He manages to ask. It’s the question, the question everyone would ask of their ghosts. She shakes her head a little.

I...I don’t really know. But I know I’m not with you.

He nods, tries to swallow around the thick lump in his throat.

Wherever I am, I’m not with you. And I miss you, Steve.

“I miss you - God, honey, I miss you so bad-” his breath hitches, and he wonders in the back of his mind if he’s going to have another asthma attack, his first in 70 years. “I-I need you, sweetheart. Jesus Christ, I miss you. I don’t know what I’m doing without you and-and-”

He’s hyperventilating, breaths stuttering in his chest. The hand that’s pressed to the mirror has gone numb with cold but he won’t move it, not if it’s the closest he comes to touching her face. He watches her come closer to him, behind him - her smell fills the room, no smoke, no incense, only her. His teeth are clattering in his mouth even as he tries to grit them together, lungs stuttering and he’s so so cold but he only half feels it; the muscles in his back jump and twitch as he feels her, really feels her, right behind him. And then-

I know, baby. I know.

Her forehead presses between his shaking shoulder blades. Icy hands creep up beneath his shirt, pressing right over his heart. Her arms lock around his ribs and squeeze, squeeze, squeeze - as if she could brand herself there. In the glass, Steve’s lips are blue and his sobbing breaths come out as little frozen clouds. The mirror is starting to frost over again; the goosebumps on his body won’t lie down. His eyes slip closed, tears chilling in their tracks on his cheeks, and he presses his hand over hers at his heart.

I’m right here.

The ache in his chest sharpens, then dulls, slow and familiar. Something he always carries. His breaths are slowing now, the trembling in his muscles calms a little. She traces a frozen circle over his heart.

I’m right here.

He sighs her name before he blacks out.

**********

Natasha watches Steve in his kitchen, her green eyes sharp and narrow. She hasn’t been to his apartment in a long time, but three days of no answered phone calls, texts, or emails and the Black Widow will investigate. He seems...fine. As fine as Steve has been since it all happened, when he went clean-shaven and cropped his hair, like girls do after a break-up. He smiles over his shoulder while stirring the pot in front of him.

“It’s the one thing my ma made sure I knew how to make for myself,” he says. “She knew I’d need this soup every time I got sick.”

“That’s sweet,” she says. And it is, though she’s never heard him mention it before.

They eat on barstools at the island, sharing little bits of conversation, small talk, mission updates. Sound bites of friendship. Still no explanation for his radio silence.

“Can I use your bathroom?” She sighs as he scoots back his stool, scooping up their bowls to take to the sink.

“Of course - you don’t have to ask, Nat.”

She slips down the hall. Doesn’t go to the bathroom - turns right instead.

On the floor of his bedroom, she sees the candles. The circle. The pictures. A little jar of seashells on his nightstand. While they were eating, she had seen something new - a little chain around his neck, the shape of something underneath, suspiciously like a ring.

Natasha leaves without saying a word, maybe hugs him a little tighter at the door.

She won’t begrudge him this.

[altumvidetur]

Haikyuu!! Fic Recs (MatsuHana)

Fic Recs Masterpost

So, I was thinking about the coronavirus pandemic and what I could do to help people out. I’m isolated because I’m at higher risk, so I can’t really offer to go out for my elderly neighbors or my family… but I thought I could try to help keep people entertained.

Because I don’t have an AO3 account right now, I’ve been compiling fic recs for my own amusement for a year or so. And I thought – maybe that’s the time to share these with everyone? So everyone will have plenty of things to read while they have to stay at home, or even to escape anxiety a little bit if you’re forced to go out.

Of course, these cater to my own tastes, so you may find stuff you don’t like around here. I never include works in progress. The Mature and Explicit works will be in italic. I ask you to READ THE WORK’S TAGS before continuing, so you won’t find anything that makes you uncomfortable.

I’ve decided to split it in a series of posts, starting with my OTPs. So here we go with some MatsuHana!

rated m for, by orphan_account

He should have known that there was a Specific Reason™ why it was so absolutely vital that he and Matsukawa specifically meet for a reading of the script. He should have known that there had to be some evil catch beyond sitting in a tiny, cramped studio with his newly sworn enemy.

Hanamaki stares at the title of the script he’d so gracefully neglected the night before.

FORBIDDEN PARADISE

“Excuse me,” Hanamaki starts, raising a pen in the air while staring blankly at the packet in his free hand. “Just to clarify, you want me to record a boy's love CD with Matsukawa?”

of weather, of leisurely tensions, by b_minor

Two boys share an umbrella.

Don’t Lie, Bright Eyes, by tookumade

“Where do you see yourself in twenty years?”

It’s nearly one in the morning and Matsukawa, tucked up comfortably in bed next to Hanamaki, is on the verge of drifting off into blissful sleep when the question stirs him.

“Why are you trying to give me a late-night existential crisis?” he mumbles.

-

(written for Haikyuu!! MatsuHana Week - Day 4 - leaving home)

Roses, by h_lovely

(Summary by me: slow burn, friends to lovers, things are kinky, I’m pretty sure this is the best MatsuHana I’ve ever read.)

You’re in Pink (and I’m in blue), by Hyeyu

Takahiro held his gaze a few seconds in silence before he sighed. "...It's only been a week, okay? S'not serious yet."

“Not serious yet?” Something jumped in Matsukawa’s jaw and he abruptly released Takahiro’s hand, sending the petals cascading to the ground. Takahiro was going to have to clean them up before the others started streaming into the clubroom, and wouldn’t that be fun. “You’re coughing up fucking flowers, Hanamaki.”

“Yeah, tell me something I don’t know.”

-

Hanamaki Takahiro has 99 problems and Hanahaki flowers make up 98 of them.

Good Bad Ideas, by tookumade

When Oikawa asks his friends to help out at his nephew’s birthday party, they get a little more than they bargained for.

(written for Haikyuu!! Rarepair Week - Day 1 - beginnings, celebration)

texting (with a capital S), by parenthetic

Hanamaki breaks his No Texting In Class rule, and it's all downhill from there.

Wet Your Whistle, by darkmagicalgirl

Hanamaki gets a job as a bartender. Matsukawa likes his uniform. (Alternatively: Matsukawa tries to ignore his huge crush on his friend-with-benefits. He fails.)

[obnoxious clucking noises], by parenthetic

On the last night of their last training camp together, Oikawa has a bad idea, Hanamaki goes along with it, Iwaizumi sort of wishes he had better friends, and Matsukawa proves himself to be particularly adept at intimidation tactics.

Love Doesn’t Come with an Instruction Manual, by plumtrees

Seijou 3rd years (now college freshmen) go to ToyCon. Oikawa has a spaz attack over Star Wars, Iwaizumi is his designated babysitter, Hanamaki is adorable, and Matsukawa doesn't know how to deal.

Here Today And There Tomorrow, by tookumade

A first meeting on opposite sides of the volleyball net, and chance meetings afterwards without it.

A Ring of Cream, by plumtrees

Hanamaki has never been one for grand romantic gestures, has never been one for romantic gestures at all, but Matsukawa's a stubborn guy.

Who can't bake for shit.

Iwaizumi and Oikawa (mostly Iwaizumi, really) to the rescue.

Morning Glory, by darkmagicalgirl

On their days off, Hanamaki and Matsukawa's mornings follow a sort of routine.

Even Though It All Went Wrong, by plumtrees

It hadn’t always been so cold. Matsukawa remembers a time where the sun shone high, its rays bright and its heat pleasant like a blanket against his skin. He remembers Hanamaki holding his hand, remembers his cheeks hurting because he’d been grinning so much. Hanamaki had opened his arms wide, and Matsukawa ran straight for them, like he’d been magnetized. He picked up Hanamaki easily and twirled them around, danced with him until they both tumbled along the grass, laughing like idiots.

He remembers because it’s all he can do now.

Crescendo, by plumtrees

Day 1 for MatsuHana Week: Online

-

The voice continues to feed him instructions, the deep rumbling purrs reverberating across his body, each hiss and click of a consonant like a sharp bite, each roll of his tongue a slide of silk against his overheating skin.

Fuck, he loves it.

Somewhat Well-Kept Secrets, by tookumade

“Why don’t they just… date already?” said Iwaizumi.

-

(written for Haikyuu!! MatsuHana Week - Day 2 - cream puffs, in the background)

It Seemed Like a Good Idea at the Time, by plumtrees

Day 3 of MatsuHana Week: Tattoos and Flower Shops

-

Hanamaki, cheeks as pink as his hair, says, "I was drunk."

"Okay?" Matsukawa prompts.

"And it's way too expensive to laser something this big."

Holy shit. "Okay?"

"Look, can't we just go with 'I made horrible life decisions in college that are now coming back to haunt me' and move on?"

morning, noon, night, by b_minor

A day in the life of two losers in love.

on the anatomy of crushes, by carafin

A part-by-part dissection of their relationship. Medical school AU.

-

‘See you tomorrow?’ Hanamaki asks. He’s still smiling faintly, still carrying about his usual air of quiet self-assurance, but there’s no mistaking the hopefulness in his voice. ‘On the bus, I mean.’

‘Yeah,’ Matsukawa says, and tries not to make it sound too much like a promise. ‘See you tomorrow.’

(Falling in love is really, ridiculously easy.)

Dating Is Not A Nine-To-Five, by tookumade

“What if,” said Hanamaki in a whisper, “we walk in and there’s a yakuza member getting his tattoos done, and he tries to kill us because we saw his face?”

-

(written for Haikyuu!! MatsuHana Week - Day 3 - tattoos and flower shops, coffee shop)

To Fit Myself In The Spaces Between, by tookumade

It's late, a boring movie is on TV, and the remote control is nowhere in sight—and that suited them just fine.

(written for Haikyuu!! MatsuHana Week - Day 4 - midnight, no control)

It’s not even close to your birthday, by squidmemesinc

The shoes look like they could be some kind of gothic lolita item, with thick, tall heels and Mary Jane straps that have little silver hearts on them. The socks are simple except that they run all the way up to his mid-thigh; the crisp white makes enough of a contrast with his skin that the colors flatter each other, rather than subdue them. Then there's the dress. It's just plain black, short and slim, though the skirt flares out at the waist. Takahiro's eyes run up it, stalling where it cuts off around the shoulders and has a wide boat neck trim with a thick ivory collar. The final piece is a simple pink ribbon—not even a necklace, just a ribbon—tied around his neck with the bow in the back.

Where Was I, When The Rockets Came To Life, by tookumade

In a city like this, there wasn’t much of a chance that they would meet again, and given Hanamaki’s current career of choice, if they did, then it was more than likely to be because of a cruel joke set up by fate. He was not about to let his heart be broken now. He had more important things to think about…

-

(written for Haikyuu!! MatsuHana Week - Day 5 - glasses, piercing)

not like the movies, by bravely

“Here,” he says, offering the thumb back to Hanamaki. Absentmindedly, Hanamaki licks it back off. “Thanks.”

Then he blinks.

“Wait,” he says. “Shit, wait. Was that supposed to be romantic just then?”

“ — Well.” Matsukawa clears his throat. “You tell me, I guess?”

No One Else Like You, by auber_jean

"It’s not at all liberating to finally have it said out loud, because it makes it all that more real, and Matsukawa was doing really well pretending that he wasn’t in love with his best friend."

With the turn of graduation, Matsukawa finds himself choosing between a future that he has planned or something more.

live it up, drink it in, by puny

Hanamaki's not a detective, just a wing spiker with a hangover, but he's gonna figure out who gave him all these hickeys if it damn well kills him.

Begin, by Karasuno Volleygays

It's the last day of their high school years and the first day of the rest of their lives. As they spend the night under a blanket of stars, they can't help but wonder where will they go from here?

Playing Doubles, by squidmemesinc

“We always said we were going to fuck at every possible time of day,” Takahiro says, rolling his hips gently over Issei’s.

“I do remember saying that once. Do you have the calendar on hand?”

Captured Light, by plumtrees

“The smile you’re wearing in this photo,” Hanamaki continued, just a little bit sad, “you haven’t smiled like that in a long time.”

Matsukawa looked at the photo again. It was awkward; it always was, seeing himself through Hanamaki’s lens. He’d never really focused on himself whenever he looked at the photos Hanamaki took of him, but now his eyes actively trailed over his face, the crinkle of his eyes, the twinkle in them from the light reflecting off of his cellphone, the smile wide enough to show an entire row of teeth.

He tried to emulate the expression, only to realize how foreign it felt on his face.

-

A love story like most love stories, stuck between busy days and too little time spent together.

Matsukawa learns to take it easy, and Hanamaki is his teacher.

Marks, by Andramion

The room is quiet when Issei gathers the pillows under his arms and lies down. He presses his nose into his shoulder, closes his eyes and focusses on the barely-there touch of fingertips to his skin.

Hanamaki always does this, every single time.

Sure, by kiyala

Beginning university brings a lot of changes with it. As Iwaizumi and Oikawa deal with going to different universities, Hanamaki thinks about his own relationship with Matsukawa.

nebulas, by tothemoon

“You'll have to let me think about it,” Hanamaki says to him while they're looking at soup stocks in the supermarket one evening, because he knows being with someone is not as simple as he'd like it to be.

(At this, Matsukawa does not fret. He goes for the snack aisle, instead.)

Settled, by kiyala

Hanamaki and Matsukawa go for a walk in their hometown in the middle of the night, and reflect on the things that have changed since high school.

Staking a Claim, by iwaizumemes

"Do you think they can tell?"

"Tell what?"

"That we've fucked in all their bedrooms."

something of a disaster, by latenights

“This is the part where you make a wish and blow.”

“Now, let’s not get too hasty—“

“I meant the candles you bastard.”

that’s you get (for waking up in vegas), by skittidyne

“There was an Elvis?” Hajime asks.

“He was the officiator. It’s the cliché, right?”

“…Officiator of what?” Tooru asks with a look down at Takahiro’s hand.

“You can borrow my phone to pull pictures from for our wedding album.” Issei reaches over and grasps the hand with the ring on it. Everyone is staring at their clasped hands like a three-headed lobster just crawled onto the table. “You were both the best men and I was very, deeply touched by how affected you both were at the ceremony,” he says in a perfect deadpan.

(( or: iwaizumi does not want to be the responsible one, and thus they suffer the consequences, or, perhaps, 'suffer' is a bit too strong of a word ))

Wilds, by AngryKitten

Makki waded back to him, two handfuls of stones dripping lake-water. He was grinning, like he always did, like their lives were one great joke that Matsukawa only occasionally understood. Hanamaki tipped his hand, and the rocks tumbled out into the bottom of their canoe.

“For later,” Hanamaki said.

Parting Words, by kiyala

Matsukawa confesses his feelings for Hanamaki at graduation, knowing that they're unrequited. Hanamaki's not so sure about that.

we could be the greatest team, by anyadisee

Oikawa mock-gasps. “Makki! You should know that I was genuinely planning on talking about strategy! I just thought it would be polite to wait for Iwa-chan and Mattsun to get back. But since you brought the topic up”—Hanamaki opens his mouth to protest, but is ignored—“have I told you how amazing Iwa-chan is? Like, he’s just the best boyfriend ever.”

“Wow, I never would’ve guessed what with, you know, how much you’ve been talking about it,” Hanamaki deadpans.

Oikawa waves a hand airily. “Don’t be jealous that my boyfriend is so sweet and romantic.”

Now it’s Hanamaki’s turn to raise eyebrows. “Excuse me, but did you just indirectly drag Issei?"

[in which hanamaki and oikawa get competitive, matsukawa and iwaizumi are good boyfriends, and the rest of seijoh somehow get involved.]

chocolate, by tellalie

“We have to do something,” Mattsun says.

Tides That Bind, by rubyfiamma

Matsuhana Fluff via prompt #19. Things you said when we were the happiest we ever were.

Room to Talk, by holdontoyourhulahoops

In which one snarky comment from Yahaba makes Hanamaki realize he's been a dirty hypocrite all this time.

The Best/Worst Places to Cry in the City, by AngryKitten

“Okay this is going to sound weird, and I get it if you want to say no, but I know a good place to cry and it’s only like a block from here. If you need to, um, let that out or something.”

Matsukawa gets hit on while crying in public and it might be the worst thing that has ever happened to him. Or it might be the best.

plus one, by orphan_account

"Did you know we're dating?"

"What? Says who?"

"Says everyone apparently."

"Oh," Hanamaki frowns for a few seconds before shrugging and turning his attention back to the chocolate fountain. "Nice."

Making Sense, by kiyala

Sharing an apartment does very little to help Hanamaki deal with his feelings for Matsukawa. Perhaps that's not such a bad thing.

and indeed there will be time, by plumtrees

Between volleyball and the looming end of their high school years, Hanamaki thinks he’s already dealing with more than enough, thank you very much.

Unfortunately, no one else gets the memo.

-

Alternatively: “I am not in love with my best friend!” says Hanamaki Takahiro. Nobody buys his bullshit.

snakes, meth labs and something like love, by orphan_account

"Did you know snakes can give birth to between ten and 150 babies at any one time?"

Matsukawa tenses. "And how many have you, um— How many have you found?"

"Four," Hanamaki sighs, voice shaking slightly with what sounds like pure, unadulterated defeat. "So far."

Flamingo, by JanaRumpandRCJawnn

Summary by me: series with Trans!Makki, dealing with transphobia, and a nice lovely characterization of Ushijima.

it’s cold out there, by bishounen_curious

Seijoh's parties are always a mess, but this one takes the cake.

he’s a looker but i really think it’s guts that matter most, by respectableflourish

His fellow first year loves volleyball, has a chill factor verging on glacial, partakes in the type of verbal repartee Takahiro has only ever dreamt of finding in another person, and just so happens to exhibit an eyebrow and eyeliner game that is on another fucking level.

my heart beats for contract law, by orphan_account

"You had an emotional breakdown in a McDonalds drive-through."

"Mmm."

"And proposed to me."

"Shhh."

"In a McDonalds drive-through, Hiro."

Takahiro huffs out a nervous laugh, keeping his eyes closed. "You love it," he repeats, nuzzling closer.

services i can provide, by commovente

“So, what’s this?” Matsukawa asks. “An apology?”

Hanamaki drawls the words out, but he’s rambling. “I mean, I was actually going for a bribe, but. You know what, Mattsun? I’m nothing if not adaptable, so. Yes. Consider this an apology.”

it’s easy being with you, sacred simplicity, by earlgrey_milktea

a conversation at half past three.

poolside, by tothemoon

At eighteen, it'd been a matter of wading.

At twenty-five, Hanamaki tries not to fall in headfirst.

need a little sweetness in my life, by orphan_account

The smell of freshly baked bread, watching his cakes rise, listening to customers endlessly praise his desserts? All that is great but, Matsukawa thinks as he shuffles closer to the counter to greet him, the best thing about his job is the man standing in front of him.

And he doesn’t even know his name.

Lemonade, by carriecmoney

“Seriously, after Oikawa’s Oikawaness, Iwaizumi with the shoulders and the intensity and the caring about people shit and you with…” Takahiro gestures at Matsukawa’s everything. “That. What am I?”

Sing For Me, by rideahorse

The first time he hears Matsukawa singing, it’s in the shower, post-practice, when Matsukawa is likely positive no one’s around to hear it. Takahiro doesn’t even know what to think at first; Matsukawa sings just as he talks, voice a low timbre, barely changing pitch as it navigates through some melody that is so familiar yet unreachable in Takahiro’s mind. It’s English, too, so Takahiro wouldn’t understand it anyways, but that’s beside the point.

The point is that the locker room suddenly feels ten times hotter and Takahiro feels like he might melt into a puddle of very gay and very confused sludge.

Realisations, by kiyala

In which Hanamaki realises that Matsukawa is a werewolf, and has a few other realisations while he's at it.

Magical Mishaps and How to Deal, by plumtrees

Hanamaki Takahiro loved Matsukawa Issei. Sometimes. Mostly. When he wasn’t being bull-headed or overly-difficult. Which wasn’t a lot of the time now that Hanamaki thought about it. Shit. But he digressed.

Demon-mating was a for life kind of deal. Certainly not a decision one could make out of the blue, without years of prior thought and much meditation. The day he asked for his mother’s blessing, the day he planned to ask Matsukawa to be his mate, she had told him If you’re sure you’ll be happy with him, then all I hope for is that he says yes and by some miracle he did and here they are now and Hanamaki could say with all the certainty in the world that he loved Matsukawa Issei with all his heart and soul(s).

But some days…dear gods, some days…some days he just made it really, really difficult.

-

Or: Matsukawa accidentally turns Kindaichi and Kunimi into babies and guess who has to help him clean up his fucking mess.

Pink and Yellow, by hotcocoa

Hanamaki is beautiful, Matsukawa is supportive, and both of them are the luckiest boyfriends in the world.

hang out fall in love, by carafin

In which Hanamaki's humble medical practice is threatened by an intractable asshole a witch doctor who's just moved into the shop down the street. Medical/Witchcraft AU.

-

As far as Hanamaki’s concerned, and as far as bad life decisions go, setting up your witch clinic right next to an actual, proper, medical clinic is practically akin to setting up an all-you-can-eat buffet right next to a gym. Or a sex toy shop next to a church. Or a vegetable patch next to a goat farm. Or – yeah, the point is, this Matsukawa guy has totally cornered the market in Terrible-Life-Decision-Making-Skills.

Baby It’s Cold Outside, by dancingwithwings

Matsukawa looks round. And – heaven help him – he’s greeted with the guy from a couple of apartments down, the guy who dyes his hair to look like a strawberry for reasons unbeknownst, looking so disgruntled, so bedraggled, so akin to a drowning cat, that it almost makes him laugh out loud. The guy is barefoot, wearing only a towel. And the look on his face might turn Matsukawa to stone.

In which the fire alarm goes off, Hanamaki is in a towel, and Mattsun just really needs to study.

Zenith, Nadir, by tookumade

A former god realises that it's time to say goodbye.

Parallel Lines, by orphan_account

Yesterday night, Matsukawa had told his parents that he was joining math club, which lead to several confused smiles from them as they tried to figure out his change of heart.

“Didn’t you say you were allergic to competitive math?” His mom had asked. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, we’re very supportive of your decision, but-”

Fortunately, or maybe unfortunately, they’d let it go because no sane parent prevents their child from joining math team, which is intellectually beneficial and looks very nice on college applications. This, in turn, prevents Matsukawa from having to explain that he’s joining- dear god- because of a crush.

this isn’t exactly how i thought i’d spend my adult years, by jadedpearl

When Hanamaki coughs–hacks–the guy, who's been near comatose this entire time, opens his eyes and looks over a little, seemingly with the least amount of effort possible. "Bless you," he says, but his eyes are still sleepy. Hanamaki turns his head and stares at him. "I didn't sneeze." The guy looks a bit surprised. "What?" "I coughed." "So?" "Who the fuck says bless you when someone coughs?"

The Courage of Stars, by FairyLights101

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

Then again, not many things were.

sugar pink liquor, liquor lips, by h_lovely

His lips still taste like sugar and liquor; they’re rosy and plush as they fit softly against Matsukawa’s own.

What would you do (if I told you that I la, la, la, loved you?), by Frenchibi

5 IwaOi moments as seen by Hanamaki and Matsukawa ... +1 moment of revenge :'D

Shoulda Known, by fxvixen

He quickly composes his face to look concerned. “What’s the matter there, sport?”

The groan cuts off.

Hanamaki lifts his head, a few strands of hair flopping onto his forehead. He narrows his eyes at Matsukawa’s attempt of a poker face. “Never call me that again.”

~or~

matsuhana feels and cuddles

Time and Distance, by kiyala

Matsukawa is attending university in Kyoto. Hanamaki comes to visit.

Kaleidoscope, by tookumade

Fall in love in five cities.

press play, by airblends

“Makki, you want in on our intro?” Oikawa gestures with his hand.

“Nah, I already promised Issei we’d do one for his channel. There are only so many intros a man can film in a day.”

“Issei, huh?” Oikawa’s lips settle into a knowing smirk. Iwaizumi coughs into his fist, gently prying the camera from Oikawa’s hands to turn it off.

Hanamaki’s face burns up, his cheeks a fiery red. “We’re just friends,” he says, the phrase rolling off his tongue by sheer reflex. He has lost count of how many times he’s typed it into the comment section beneath his videos. At this point he might just start to believe it himself.

New Ground, by kiyala

About new cities and new relationships.

Trusting Things Beyond Mistake, by twinkrevali

"‘I–’ Hanamaki starts, then stops, turning to face the lake and frowning as the words fail to reach him.

Matsukawa pushes himself up to look at Hanamaki properly, hands resting in his lap.

‘You,’ he prompts, and Hanamaki looks at him, eyes shining.

This must be, he thinks, what they call a moment of clarity."

Would You Rather, by jadedpearl

“Y’know,” Hanamaki says, stretching his arms above his head, “I don’t even get why Oikawa is the popular one. If this was an anime, I’d be the main character.”

The setting sun burns his edges gold, alights the sharp planes of his face. Matsukawa looks away, faces forward, towards the houses that wind out of sight.

“What makes you say that?” he replies easily, because things have always been just that, with Hanamaki.

too scared to say (that i want you), by urieskooki

"How could he not hate me if he knew?"

Falling in love with your best friend sucks.

one-way ticket, by noyabeans

post-chapter 258.

-

in an alternate universe, they would be the ones on that screen, feet solidly planted on the smooth ground of the tokyo gym and the smell of air salonpas around them.

take my hand, take my whole life, too, by earlgrey_milktea

matsukawa and hanamaki, a few years down the road, and years to go, together.

all our stolen moments (i’d spend forever with you), by earlgrey_milktea

quiet moments between matsukawa and hanamaki.

it's all worth it, in the end.

Switched Jerseys, by chromyrose

After practice on an afternoon shortly before the Spring High tournament begins, they’re the last two people changing in the club room. The weather is starting to turn for the colder, and Hanamaki sighs when the cool air touches his heated skin after he takes his jersey off. He feels a warm hand on his back, and looks over his shoulder...

oh we’re fading fast / i miss missing you now and then, by earlgrey_milktea

It’s strange, missing someone. You find them in every thing you do, and you think you want them back, but you don’t. Not really. Not now, not like this.

-

issei and the quiet that hanamaki left behind.

i thought i could tame these memories to keep me company like a housecat, by earlgrey_milktea

So he stayed here, in a house that hasn’t been a home in a long time, with a cat that keeps looking out the window as if waiting for someone that isn’t coming home.

-

takahiro and the empty house and lonely cat that issei left behind.

those days are dead and gone (but we’re still here), by kythen

They're graduating today and Hanamaki doesn't want to get out of bed.

stranger things, by tinypersonhotel

In 2012, the men’s national volleyball team took home the bronze at the Asian Cup. Tokyo Skytree opened to the public. Also, the dashing Hanamaki Takahiro and painfully cool Matsukawa Issei started a radio show out of Aoba Johsai’s abandoned A/V room and accidentally became the two most popular guys in school.

Daily Password: [ ], by tookumade

“Neko Atsume?” Hanamaki says sleepily when he recognises the song coming from his phone. He opens his eyes with a mystified smile. “You’re still playing?”

-

(written for Haikyuu!! MatsuHana Week - Day 1 - music)

tell them i love you, by tookumade

“Are you two serious about it, though?” Oikawa says dubiously after training when they’re leaving the clubroom together. “Could you seriously tell each other ‘I love you’?”

“Of course we’re serious!” protests Matsukawa at the same time Hanamaki says, “Of course we can!”

-

(written for Haikyuu!! MatsuHana Week - Day 3 - romantic gesture)

like a river, by astersandstuffs

“Is that a confession? Are you actually confessing to me right now?”

“Hm. Yeah.”

-

Or, they still have a lot to learn (and maybe that's the thing about being together).

Baby(sitting), Maybe, by tookumade

“One day,” says Hanamaki, “we’ll look back on this and laugh.”

“Mm-hm,” Matsukawa hums.

“It’ll be a cute little story. We’ll tell our friends, and they’ll laugh along with us. They might even be sympathetic.”

“Mmmm…”

“You’re absolutely right, sympathetic is reaching way too far.”

-

(written for Haikyuu!! MatsuHana Week - Day 6 - children, bonds)

Matsuhana Week 2017, by h_lovely

Day 1: music//relationship goals Day 2: competition//petty Day 3: romantic gesture//fairy tale Day 4: in danger//leaving home Day 5: food//science Day 6: children//bonds Day 7: on video//surprises

A God for Every Season, by timkons

Mortals have all kinds of foolish tales, like how Hades and Persephone's annual reunion causes the seasons. Matsukawa knows better.

Habenaria Radiata, by tookumade

Hanamaki turns onto his side so that they’re facing each other, and his smile is warm; Matsukawa feels his heart skip a beat, as it always does whenever this happens, and he wonders when he’ll ever get used to it, when it’ll become normal enough that he doesn’t get butterflies in his stomach every time Hanamaki smiles at him.

(Probably never, if he’s being honest with himself. He is content with this.)

take my heart and put it in your pocket, by Frenchibi

Issei blinks. “I ain’t drinkin’ any of your froofy Christmas Latte thingies.” “Orange Caramel Mocha.” “What?” “Vanilla Chai Latte.” “Ew.” “Cinnamon Hot Chocolate.” Issei rolls his eyes, resigned. “Fine. That doesn’t sound too awful.”

Remind Me, by tookumade

For Hanamaki and Matsukawa, their first meeting consists of a small accident, a terrible first impression, and the start of something new—maybe something better.

(In which they learn to keep trying, and to try again.)

like twinkling lights and the warmth of your hand, by earlgrey_milktea

mattsun and makki go on an impromptu date.

in a daze, by wyverning

The sound of a camera shutter goes off, and Issei lazily cracks open an eye to see Hanamaki grinning down at him, phone held loosely in one hand.

“That was the best Kunimi impression I’ve ever seen,” he says by way of explanation.

Clueless, by Elleh

If anyone had asked Issei how he’d thought his night would end, he’d have never said: catching my best friend moaning my name while fucking himself.

There’s an odd second, between Issei entering their room and sliding the door of the bedroom open, in which Issei is still oblivious. Skin prickling, a sudden dryness in his mouth, but oblivious. He’s taking his shoes off when the first moan catches him.

He stills right on the spot, a shoe hanging from his finger, the other hand half-way to opening the bedroom. Issei swallows, images of Hanamaki with a girl from the hotel, that’s why he didn’t want to come with us drink, the bitter taste that realisation leaves behind. Issei shouldn’t care Hanamaki’s having sex with someone, but the sourness turns into rage—and maybe disappointment. He’s gonna have a serious conversation about boundaries and, you know, could you let me know in advance, so I find—

“Issei… Mmmh, fuck.”

IOU, by Karasuno Volleygays

Matsukawa Issei goes in for a tattoo and ends up with an interesting new friend in Hanamaki Takahiro. Soon his visits to his tattoo artist's studio in the back of a restaurant become a highlight of his days, and that's before feelings start to wriggle their way into the picture.

take a screenshot, it’ll last longer, by h_lovely

It’s all fun and games until someone pops a boner in a staff meeting.

lapsus linguae, by astersandstuffs

“I’m literally your best friend,” Matsukawa says.

Takahiro pauses. “Shit. You’re right.”

Reflex, by hiuythn

Nobody likes to talk about how Hanamaki and Matsukawa met, which is a shame, because they both think it's the funniest fucking thing to ever happen to either of them.

my way home, by tookumade

Matsukawa has been sitting at their freshly-placed dining table and staring at his copy of their new apartment keys for at least an hour.

(Hanamaki checks his watch. Okay, five minutes; same thing.)

first light, by tookumade

Iwaizumi and Oikawa immediately break out into booing and gagging noises, because as much as they both think themselves mature and reasonable people, they are honestly idiots. Matsukawa just grins and takes a sip of his own beer, pleased, but Hanamaki is frozen, eyes wide and a blush creeping across his face in a way that had nothing to do with the beer.

Tactical Retreat, by Karasuno Volleygays

After years of getting their asses handed to them by the seemingly psychic Iwaoi bond, Issei and Takahiro opt to spend the rest of their paintballing trip engaged in other activities.

Mirror Flower, Water Moon, by h_lovely

Matsukawa’s gaze lingers on Hanamaki. He’s talking about something, ranting on and Matsukawa isn’t sure about what at this point. He should be listening really, how rude of him. But spring has just sprung and the little pink petals dotting the sidewalk match so pleasantly with the strawberry shade of Hanamaki’s short-clipped hair.

(Or, a study on timing and how to get it right.)

quidditch gloves, parchment, and custard cream, by h_lovely

After class, Matsukawa finds Hanamaki in the tall cushy grass by the lake.

[elswordimaginesdrabbles]

Read the Air; It’s Hot Alright

Ain x reader

Warning: long

drawn by @21andree10 on Instagram

(y/n) let out a sigh of relief as they sunk into the lukewarm water. They were truly blessed to stumble across hot springs which they could have all to themselves. It was their night to relax and get rid of all the stress from battle… The El gang was quite exhausting to be around sometimes, especially since there weren’t any peaceful moments; every single person had a thing to complain about or start a fight for no reason.

Their thoughts were suddenly interrupted by another figure stepping into the water. Mind racing, they thought who could it have possibly been? No one dared use the mixed hot springs because they didn't want to deal with the opposite sex- but there it was, some possible predator stepping all over their territory.

“Ah, (Mr/Ms) Thief. I didn't know you'd be here as well,” Ain greeted with the ever-present smile. Turns out it was just the oblivious priest invading their space.

They didn't bother giving him another glance as he sunk most of his body into the water. It was impossible to comprehend why he didn't choose the other side of the bath; it was already tiny enough. An awkward silence followed, (y/n) blowing bubbles out of boredom while Ain closed his eyes as if to meditate. For the first time ever, he wore a peaceful expression in front of another living being.

“(Mr/Ms) Thief,” they groaned, “if you don't mind me asking, what is the point of those ‘hot springs’?” *bubbles stop*

(y/n) stared at him bewildered, but they didn't ask if he was joking; he never did anyway. They sighed and gathered all their intellect to answer the question as seriously as possible.

“Well, you see… hot springs… help you relax.”

“?”

“The water… you get in it… it feels good???”

“...I’m afraid I don’t quite understand.”

“Aaaah, how can you not get it?? Just shut up and relax in the water!” flailing their arms around, they missed one crucial detail…

“(Mr/Ms) Thief, it seems your towel slid off a bit.” they covered themselves instantly as a blush quickly formed on their cheeks.

“You didn’t see anything.”

“...Alright.” he didn’t pursue the subject further, which (y/n) was very thankful for. After a short while of mildly awkward silence, they took it upon themselves to break the quiet atmosphere since it was getting unbearable.

“Anyway, why do you keep calling me (Mr/Ms) Thief?? It’s not gonna take long for me to feel insulted, y'know?”

“I don’t mean it as a derogatory term, of course. Yet, when we met, you tried to swipe all of our food during an expedition in Sander… I still don’t understand Elsword’s decision to take you in.”

“Wow. Just wow. I’m not talking to you anymore.”

“Did I say something out of line? If so, I apologize.” his unwavering smile diagnosed (y/n) with a severe case of pouting.

“Aren’t priests supposed to be more social? It’s like you came from another world!”

“...Is that so?”

“You don’t even know what hot springs are!! How can I possibly believe you’re human?!” his passive aggressive expression told (y/n) something they weren't supposed to know…

“I’m gonna pretend you didn’t make that face and change the subject.”

“That would be most wise, (Mr/Ms) Thief. If I were you I wouldn’t speak about a secret this important.”

“Wait wh- Holy- You’re not actually human??? That’s it, I’m not letting you drop this ‘till you tell me what you are.”

“I can’t understand how that would help you in any way.”

“It’s not about help here, it’s about what I want. So spill it or else I’m letting the whole gang know.”

“...!”

“I wonder what Elsword will have to say about our alien comrade…”

“Foolish human…” he mumbled inaudibly, quickly switching back to a smile to tell his story. “Alright, I’ll ‘spill it’, as you said. I was sent on a mission by Goddess Ishmael-”

“Hold on a minute, Goddess? And Ishmael as well?? Don’t tell me, or are you the El Lady too?!”

“...I feel as if you’re mocking me.”

“You’re delusional mate, there’s no way around it. Or is it a priest trick where you pretend to be God’s messenger to attract followers?”

“I truly have no words. I had no idea a mere human could cause such an offense. Convince me not to strike you down this instant for disrespecting the Goddess.” his booming voice was no match for (y/n)’s savage laughter.

“I’d like to see you try...! Come at me, pretty boy!” Ain deemed the situation not worthy to break his pendulum over and began chanting his gibberish in German. Before he could even get halfway done, (y/n) launched themselves onto him, making sure to pin Ain’s hands in place. They completely annihilated any chance he had of fighting back. After securing a dominant position, they delivered their lines.

“Here’s reason one: you’re just a pretty boy outside the battlefield, and second, would your Goddess like the idea of her messenger murdering a human? I think not.” they slowly loosened their tight grip on him as he pondered on their words. Shortly afterwards, Ain made his thoughts clear.

“I suppose I should thank you for reminding me. I lost sight of my mission and acted out of line, so I apologize.”

“...Hmm? I didn’t quite catch that.”

“(Mr/Ms) Thief, I said, you have disrespected the Goddess. An apology is in order, no?”

“Fine, fine. I am sorry for disrespecting the Goddess. There. I won’t do it again.”

“I will make sure to relay your message to the Goddess.”

After the very heated debate, silence took over. They were too tired to try anything else and just quietly accepted their predicament; being forced to share hot springs with the strange alien priest.

“Why is this a place of relaxation? It feels as if it’s an elaborate trap I’ve mistakenly stepped into,” he pondered.

“Because you’re doing it wrong, dummy.”

“Then how would the right way be?” Ain asked confused.

(y/n) didn’t respond. He waited, and waited… “You just shut up. That’s it.”

“Is that all I have to do?”

“Yes. That’s all there is to it.” making a surprised face, he processed her words. His features relaxing, Ain looked up into the night sky. It was quite late judging by all the stars visible, and he wondered what he was still doing there; resting was mandatory since heavy battles awaited them the next day, yet he was wasting time with a human nonetheless.

Light snoring interrupted his train of thought. He glanced at (y/n), only to find them in an apparently deep sleep. Ain let out a chuckle, but stopped himself midway in shock. It was too genuine for his liking, and he couldn’t comprehend why a simple gesture provoked such a reaction. Yet he felt tired as well and didn’t bother thinking about it anymore.

Ain decided to wake them up; it would be bothersome in battle if (y/n) caught a cold.

“(Mr/Ms) Thief, you should wake up.” No response. “(Mr/Ms) Thief?” they didn’t answer the next time either, so Ain was stuck on what to do. He settled for lightly shaking their shoulder, but he’d soon find out that wouldn’t be the wisest decision… once the tip of his fingers touched their bare skin, they suddenly got up, headbutting him in the process, somehow. He truly felt that and hissed in pain, while (y/n) was frantically looking around as if woken from a daze. They eyed the nearby floating towel and realized that Ain wasn’t wearing anything. Then they jumped to a conclusion.

“P E R V E R T !”

And Elesis kicked down the door.

“Whose butt do I have to kick?!”

~A thorough scolding and some misunderstandings later~

Everyone had gone to their rooms for the night, but (y/n) decided to hang around for a little while longer. The staff at the inn was more than glad to cater to all their needs and brought them a Lanox specialty; they grumpily slurped from the glass, but then thought it actually tasted pretty good. It was mostly water with a tint of exotic fruits, just like the sweet, sweet syrup they used to-

“(Mr/Ms) Thief, can I have a moment of your time?” (y/n) spat the drink, accidentally splashing their lower face with it. They glared at the cause of her misfortune.

“I was wondering if you could clarify something for me.” they grabbed their drink and started slurping loudly, while also avoiding eye contact as much as they could.

“I will take that as a yes, so I’m going to ask my question.” they spat their drink again.

“I tried so hard, and got so far, but in the end it doesn’t even matter,” they sighed. “Have a seat,” they pointed to the other side of the table.

“Sir, would you like a drink as well?” asked the waitress who just snuck up on him out of nowhere. (y/n) got a little spooked, not even their skills were that godlike.

“Of course, if you don’t mind. What would you recommend?”

“The Lanox Nectar is the best we’ve got. I’ll bring one on the house for you, sir!”

“Thank you~.” (y/n) watched the very human exchange with widened eyes.

“Is something wrong, (Mr/Ms) Thief?”

“I’m the one who should be asking that.”

“?”

“Here’s your drink, sir!”

“Gah!” (y/n) couldn’t help but lose their composure at the sight of the sneaky waitress. Once again, the wannabe thief got bested by a staff member who was just doing her job. Then she vanished and no matter how hard (y/n) would squint, there wasn’t any trace left of the mysterious girl.

“(Mr/Ms) Thief, I’d like to ask something about the hot springs today.” he didn’t even touch his drink and already got down to business. ‘Ah shit, here we go again’ they thought. “More specifically, about the way you reacted at the end.” They remembered with a somber expression the event and the excuse he dared to give: ‘It was an accident’, he said, but they didn’t buy one bit of it. They wondered why they were still hanging out with that pervert.

“Why did you shout ‘pervert’?”

“Because you are one.”

“I don’t understand why I’m a pervert, so I was wondering if you could explain.” ‘This guy’s a lunatic’, thought (y/n), but humoured him nonetheless.

“Do you really not know? Do I really have to talk to you about this? What did I do to deserve such harassment?”

“Oh, am I questioning something inappropriate? If so, I apologize.”

“Yes, it’s highly inappropriate…” then a yellow light bulb appeared above their head. “But it can’t be helped, can it? I’ll just have to explain it to you so that you won’t do it again.”

“That would be most helpful, (Mr/Ms) Thief.”

“Now, now, disclaimer (...). Here I go:

When two people share a bath together under the full moon, an ancient ritual is unleashed. The only way to prevent it from happening is for the people to wear towels. When yours fell off, I was really worried! So that’s why I shouted for help.

...Also, I forgot to mention, but only chosen people can perform the ritual correctly, and I panicked because we aren’t chosen. Get it?”

“Interesting… I never knew such a thing existed. I can’t help but wonder, what are the consequences of a ritual performed incorrectly?”

“A big explosion, of course.”

“I see now… So you were just trying to help me. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“I understand now what Ms. Knight meant about ‘some things are just forbidden’. She was talking about the ritual going wrong, no?

“Yep.”

“If you don’t mind me asking-” Before he could finish his sentence, they got up and spoke.

“It was really nice talking to you Ain, but it is really, really late so I would like to go to sleep. Good night!”

“Ah, you’re right. May we resume this discussion another time?”

“Of course, of course! Good night!!”

“Have a good night as well, (Mr/Ms) Thief.”

There were only so many brain cells a person could afford to lose.

~to the beds, onwards we go~

(y/n) stared blankly at the ceiling, endless minutes of shuffling around having just passed. They usually slept like a log, but something wasn’t right this time. A bad feeling lingered in the air, and no matter how much they tried to shrug it off it was still there.

Inevitably, they got up and groaned. It was their duty to check for possible intruders; or at least that’s what (y/n) told themselves. They reached out for the emergency pocket knife, only to find it was gone.

Then, anger took over. Nobody dared swipe their weapons like that, and if they did, they’d have to speak to the unholy pair of fists (y/n)’s got.

Silent footsteps right outside the room made their ears perk up. They prepared a fighting stance, ready to face the intruder head on. By literally headbutting them.

The door opened suddenly. (y/n) didn’t waste a single second and grabbed the other person’s shoulders, striking in full force. They were more than ready to pin them down-

“Ahh, (Mr/Ms) Thief… This is the second time today. I see you’re quite relentless when it comes to violence,” he rubbed his head in an attempt to alleviate the pain. “I may not be as weak as a human, but I still take damage.”

“Ain?! What are you doing in my room this late at night? And without knocking, no less???”

“Was I supposed to knock?”

“YES. What if you had walked in and found me naked or something…”

“But you said the ritual can only fail when two people share a bath together under the full moon. Did I hear it wrong?”

“Ugh… Just stop talking.”

“Either way, I didn’t come here for nothing. I sensed… demons.” his expression darkening as he spoke.

“Ooh, that makes sense! Hey, hey…” she approached him and whispered quietly, “Do you think those demons you’re talking about snuck into my room and stole my weapons?”

“There is no doubt in my mind. Such filth....” his eyes spelled ‘anger’ and his mouth shouted ‘murder’. Fortunately, or maybe unfortunately, there was someone else who thought the same.

“Then let’s go give them a piece of my fists.”

~one sneaking montage later~

“Do you think this is their room?” spoke (y/n), their eyes glittering in excitement.

“I’m not certain.”

“Then we’re about to find out.”

“About to find out what?” they jumped into a clumsy stance, startled by Ciel’s sudden interruption. Ain just glared and mumbled inaudible insults.

“You’re making quite the ruckus in the middle of the night. Did you need something from Lu and I?” just then, (y/n) noticed Ciel was carrying a tray full of freshly baked cookies.

“Ooooh, can I have some?” Ain glared at them repulsed.

“How can you talk so casually to this… to this-!”

“Pretty please? Just ignore him, by the way, he’s stupid.”

“!”

“I made them for Lu, so…” staring into their puppy eyes, he sighed. “Alright, you can have one. But only one.”

“Thank youuuuu!” they squealed in delight while grabbing a cookie. “...You didn’t hear anything.”

“Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me,” he chuckled.

(y/n) very rarely got to eat sweets, so holding one in their own two hands they couldn’t help but study every inch of it. Drooling at the chocolate chip, their eyes turned into glittering stars. Ciel smiled at the sight; but just as they were about to take a bite…

Ain slapped it out of their hand.

The other two gasped, but (y/n) didn’t hesitate to kneel on the floor and stuff it into their mouth. The guys watched in shock, while their taste buds were assaulted by heavenly flavors.

After an uncomfortable silence accompanied only by chewing noises, (y/n) got up and faced Ciel, her tone turning dopey.

“Thank you! I love you! Welcome to the team!”

“Thanks…?” Ciel was stuck between feeling flattered or repulsed by what he just witnessed.

“Sorry for suspecting you of stealing my weapons! I didn’t know you made such good cookies… heheh…”

“(Mr/Ms) Thief, that’s no way to behave around a demon. Cease at once.”

“Shut ep, grumpy face. I know just what you need… you need a cookie.”

“...What?”

“Cieeeeeel, can I get a cookie for Ain too?”

“Um, sure?” Ciel was still in shock and couldn’t think too much. The thief snickered evilly.

“Eat the cookie, Ain.”

“Preposterous.

“I’m gonna force you to eat it.”

“Stay away from me.” he glared at the cookie revolted, hoping that it would disappear. Instead, (y/n) extended their hand.

“Say aah~” before he could slap the cookie away, they attempted to kick him as hard as possible. Unfortunately, the attack was too heavy and they fell on their butt immediately afterwards. “Oof!”

Ain kneeled before them to check if they were unharmed.

“heheh… *hic*”

“(Mr/Ms) Thief, are you alright?” he could only watch as their smile got bigger and their movements dizzier. Ain had no clue about what could've possibly happened, since he'd never witnessed such strange behaviour before. ‘Is this a human function I was not aware of…?’ he thought.

“Did she drink something this evening?” Ciel inquired, but Ain leered.

“I didn't give you permission to speak to me like that, demon.”

“I'm not too happy about that either, but (y/n) doesn't seem well. Do you want to help them or not?”

If it had been any other person, Ain would have refused without even thinking about it; yet looking more attentively at (y/n)’s dopey face, something just wouldn't let him leave them like that.

“...I'll let it slide just this once.” all the softness drained from his face, he glared disgusted at Ciel. His hatred ran deep, despite the situation at hand.

“We should carry them to their room.” spoke Ciel while putting the tray full of cookies in front of his door. The instant he stepped towards the pair, Ain wrapped his arms around their shoulders as to shield them while aggressively staring Ciel down.

“...Or maybe you should carry them.” he backed away in realization.

“Ooh, are we hugging? Do you like me?” Ain forgot that the thing he held close was actually sentient. With a click of his tongue, he avoided their hopeful gaze, which brought upon a great disaster to the land of Elrios.

Incoherent bawling echoed loudly through the whole inn. Tears spilled like waterfalls from (y/n)’s eyes who was rubbing at them like a little child. Ain’s hands froze in mid air; it felt as if he'd just set off a bomb and he was really confused as to why. They kept going, Ciel starting to threaten the priest with his menacing gaze.

Wishing for (y/n) to be quiet already, he put a hand over their mouth, the noises now muffled. Slowly, the whining subsided and Ain almost sighed in relief before a pang of pain shot through his palm.

It was getting more and more painful, and only then did he realize that (y/n)’s teeth were sinking into his skin.

“Oh, you little f-”

“Ciel, what's with all this ruckus in the middle of the night? Where are my cookies?” Lu spoke after opening the door, a most peculiar sight entering her vision. “What have I just walked into…? Ciel, answer me this instant!”

Chuckling nervously, he replied “I'm not too sure either, Lu…”

Ain, with his hand still in (y/n)’s mouth, spat angrily “You filthy creature dare show yourself before me? Know your place and begone.”

“Huhu, how ironic of you to say that while kneeling on the ground, bested by a human!” Lu smirked, gaining the upper hand. Ain reacted by yanking his arm away from (y/n)’s grasp, making them whine and flop on their face.

Ain got up and dusted himself off: “I have business to attend to. Don’t get in my way, demon.” he snarled, to which (y/n) gasped.

“Demon? Did you just say demon?!” they spoke excitedly. “The demons took my weapons!” shouting, they then slapped themselves so hard the sound of it echoed through the whole inn. The other three watched in shock, each with a face more hilarious than the last.

Charging up their inner energy, (y/n) let out a long fierce battlecry. “You!” they pointed to Lu, “You stole my weapons!”

“What a bold accusation! I, Luciela R. Sourcream, steal a commoner’s belongings? How ridiculous. Ciel, put them in their place!”

“Lu, I think we should give them a chance to explain first.”

“...I’ll listen to you just because you baked my cookies on time.”

“They’re really good, by the way,” (y/n) spoke without thinking, making a grave mistake. The bomb was set off.

“CIEL!! How could you defile my cookies so?! I TRUSTED YOU!” whined Lu dramatically, stomping the floor with her small feet. He hurried towards her to calm the storm. While Ciel was distracted, Ain grabbed (y/n)’s hand and whispered into their ear:

“Let’s make haste.” before (y/n) could complain, Ain took them swiftly to the lobby.

They stared at him confused and more than ready to complain about the situation, yet Ain silenced (y/n) by putting a finger over their lips.

“We’ve successfully escaped the demons,” he smiled. “Now we can focus on figuring out your strange condition.”

“There’s nothing to figure out…” they grabbed his hand and moved it away from their face. “Anyway, it was that drink’s fault! It tasted weird,” spoke (y/n), quite proud of themselves.

“I see… Do you have any ideas where we could start?” Ain inquired with his eyebrows raised.

“Hmmm… I feel like I’m missing something…” they rubbed their chin as if a beard was there,” OH! I know! That girl who served our drinks! The blondie with the ponytail, remember?!”

“There was someone like that? I didn’t even notice.”

(y/n) opened their mouth to remind him of the event, but a gut feeling told them it would be futile to do so. ‘There is also another matter to take care of’, they thought.

“That girl stole my weapons! And drugged me! That’s it, I’m gonna go look for her. She better pray for her life.”

“Ah, an occasion to spread the word of Ishmael. How wonderful,” he beamed.

“Ain, no, you stay right here ‘till I’m done. It was a figure of speech anyway…”

“?” visibly confused, he prepared to ask what (y/n) meant by that, only to notice them stomping towards the counter.

“I would like to speak to the manager.” with a booming voice, they slammed their hand on the wooden surface to attract attention. Staring the girl into the eye, they noticed her blonde hair, tied into a ponytail.

“IT’S YOU!” they pointed,”You’re the one who drugged my drink!” The girl looked right, then left. Finally, she stated in a deadpan tone, “Ah, shit.”

In less than a second, she was gone from (y/n)’s sight and sprinting towards the employees’ back door.

“Excuse me?! I’m not done with you, you little wh*re, I’M TELLING THE MANAGER AND YOU’LL GET FIRED AND YOU’LL HAVE NIGHTMARES FOREVER OF THE DAY I RUINED YOUR LIFE-” shouting more nonsense, they tried jumping over the counter to chase her but a certain priest stopped her just in time.

“That’s not an appropriate way to behave, (Mr/Ms) Thief.”

“And that’s not an appropriate way to tell me my ways are not appropriate.”

“You’re quite childish, aren’t you?” he chuckled. All of (y/n)’s defenses cracked because of that one simple gesture, and steam started coming out of their ears. Taking a deep breath, they tried to calm the burning chaos inside of them and smirked.

“I’m going to Ciel now.”

“May I ask about the reason?” he furrowed his brow.

“Nay, thee shan’t.”

“(Mr/Ms) Thief, surely, you wouldn’t actually stand near filth such as that?”

“What can I say? He’s much more pleasant company than you; trust me, I know.”

“Unbelievable…” he looked visibly offended now, ready to strike someone down in less than a second. “I apologize, but I won’t tolerate this sort of behaviour, thief.” Ain spat their nickname like he’d spit one of Ciel’s cookies, making them gasp dramatically.

“That’s it, I’m murdering you. Better pray to Ishmael while you still can.” (y/n) spat back, preparing their fists.

“After I teach you a lesson, I think it would be most enjoyable to have you pray alongside me.”

“Did you just say enjoyable? Did you just say enjoyable?! I will completely mop the filth out of this floor with your moppy hair!”

“I find it hard to believe that you would stoop to words this lowly, thief. Be warned, I will not go easy on you this time.”

“If only I had my weapons… You’d be crying on the floor right now.”

“I highly doubt it.”

“Look, I’ve made lots of people cry before, what makes you think you won’t be one of them?!”

“I have plenty of reasons. It is truly regrettable that I even considered having a tiny speck of respect for you… Not only do you fraternize with the demons, but you also act like a degenerate human being.”

“Tiny? Tiny?! You want me to mourn for a tiny speck?!”

“It matters little to me whether you mourn or not.”

“Wh- It was supposed to be an exaggeration, you massive idiot! Why do you have to take everything so seriously, it triggers me deeply on a personal level!!”

“Any last words, thief?”

“Yes. Feel my wrath!” they lunged, while Ain was prepared to break his pendulum.

“You know Ciel, this is really entertaining. I don’t regret having my cookies stolen in the middle of the night, just because I got to see this!” (y/n) got a glimpse of Lu and Ciel watching their fight, before their fist finally collided with Ain’s chest in a very underwhelming manner. Then, as a balloon without air, they deflated, landing unceremoniously on the floor.

Ain looked at the scene with a confused smile, wondering why (y/n) started giggling out of nowhere with their face in the ground. Did they have a plan? Was it just another strange human ritual?

“I can’t watch this anymore…” Ciel sighed and tried to approach (y/n), yet a tiny hand stopped him midway.

“How dare you offer help to those people? The cookie thief and the hateful priest?! Ciel, I thought highly of you, but it seems it was wrong of me to do so…”

He gasped dramatically and retaliated in less than a second. “I apologize, Lu! I will go bake another batch of cookies just for you and leave those two to their own devices.”

“Chocolate chip cookies, don’t forget.”

“Yes! I will certainly leave those two to take care of themselves and definitely not check on the situation later!”

“Good job! I surely do not regret choosing you as my butler, Ciel~,” beamed Lu, walking away with Ciel in tow.

“...Ah.” Only then did Ain realize that the odd acting human was in his care. ‘What is there to do now?’ he thought, for (y/n) had started to munch on the carpet. Then, he remembered humans didn't usually eat carpets.

“Thief, cease this disgraceful behaviour at once.” After he spoke, a pair of curious eyes settled on his magnificent coat. (y/n) could only imagine the deliciousness of such a minty looking beverage and leaped towards it in an attempt to get a taste.  He noticed before they even thought about it and intercepted their attack with a quick slap on the forehead.

(y/n) responded by hugging the floor and sobbing into it, to which Ain didn't bother reacting to anymore. His face spelled ‘I'm done’ yet the thief kept on crying the same sentence: “I'm hungryyyy…”

Ain gazed upon their snot filled visage, a repulsive sight which was supposed to engulf his entire being with disgust. Yet, despite all of his alarms having set off, he kneeled before (y/n). He recalled a similar sight which had only taken place recently; Elsword felt defeated when In and Jin escaped, but his sadness was gone as quickly as it came since Ms. Knight had ruffled his hair and offered words of encouragement. ‘Is that what’s missing?’ he thought, his gloveless hand finding its way onto their head as if to comfort.

Almost gone by unnoticed, their sobbing had gotten quieter. The more Ain would pat their head, the less they'd cry, and so he thanked Ishmael for this newfound wisdom.

“...Let's get you to your room,” he mumbled, grabbing (y/n) and pulling them over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Without a sound, Ain traveled through the whole inn twice, probably even three times before he remembered where (y/n)’s room was; after all, it was by sensing their energy he stumbled across it the first time.

Ain laid their body on the bed as roughly as he picked them up, but he received no reaction. Instead, (y/n)’s sobbing had turned to silent tears as they covered their face with their palms.

‘A pitiful sight’, he thought; yet he could not stand still and watch since a strange feeling had wormed its way in. Then, the priest decided it'd be a good idea to repeat what he had done earlier and pat their head.

(y/n) on the other hand, couldn't even tell whether they were hungry or in complete despair for no reason in particular; but what they did know was someone's gentle hand comforting them and a gentle voice whispering ‘sleep well’. They did not know if it was actually real or not as they dozed off into a state of nothingness.

~darkness~

The bed was an incredibly soft surface and (y/n) wouldn't have gotten out of it if it hadn't been for the hot springs. It was finally time to relax and forget about all the worries that had plagued their mind for weeks.

On their way to the place in question, they grabbed a jerky and gulped it down in a second. ‘It's a lot tastier than usual’, they thought.

(y/n) sighed relieved. Fixing up their towel to make sure it wouldn’t fall, they opened the sliding door.

What a wondrous occasion for them to be able to finally savour the joy of hot springs! It had been a really long time since they'd been to one.

“Come in, (Mr/Ms) Thief. I’ve been waiting for you,” Ain had gotten there before them, but they didn’t mind too much and stepped into the water. They were really tired, and once they sunk their body into the hot springs their entire being relaxed.

“Would you mind if I gave you a massage?” (y/n) shook their head.

“Come here,” they approached him and he then tended to their sore back.

“You’re really good at this… I should ask you to do it more.”

“I’m glad to be of assistance.” a brief moment of silence followed as his firm hands ran over their bare skin. They felt themselves getting quite hot.

“...Do you hate me, Ain?”

“Why would I hate you?”

“I dunno…” their posture slouched.

“Just so you know, I don’t hate you. You don’t have to be sad.” his fingers moved onto (y/n)'s shoulders, their back straightening once again.

“I was a bit mean to you…”

“But I couldn’t hate you for that.”

“Maybe more than just a bit…”

“You’re still dear to me, (y/n).” they suddenly turned their head to face him, barely believing what they just heard.

“...Really?”

“Really.” he tucked a strand of hair behind their ear, staring at them lovingly. They didn’t know how to react.

“...I’m sorry for trying to hit you..”

“It’s alright. I forgive you.”

“I’m sorry for calling your hair moppy.”

“It’s fine.”

“I’m sorry for disrespecting the Goddess…”

“It can be easily solved.” they frowned. He gently caressed their head as he pulled them into a hug.

“...You’re really hot.”

“I’m flattered.”

“No, I’m… nevermind.” they gave into his touch and closed their eyes.

“You can sleep if you’d like. I’ll take care of you.”

“...You’re different.”

“I could say the same about you.”

Enveloped in warmth, they didn’t bother giving another argument.

“Look at me.” he raised their chin, gazing into their sleepy eyes.

“...Why though?”

“I just wanted to see you from up close. That’s all.”

“I should consider that creepy, but I’m too tired to care…” he chuckled, admiring their face even more. “What about the massage?” they asked innocently.

“Ah, I’m sorry. I got distracted.” his hands returned to their shoulders, making them even sleepier than before.

(y/n) looked up into the night sky. It was quite late judging by all the stars visible, and they wondered what they were still doing there; resting was mandatory since plenty of delicacies awaited them the next day, yet they were killing time with this pervert nonetheless.

Fluffy gray hair tickling their neck interrupted that train of thought. Not long after, a pair of arms wrapped around their torso, the towel seemingly gone.

“You will make a fine trophy to my wife collection.” he smiled wickedly, and (y/n) remembered: he was still a priest.

~darkness ends~

They woke up in a cold sweat, questioning reality with a distressed frown. Events of yesterday mingled with their dream, instilling uncertainty in what they were currently seeing.

“You're awake. How are you feeling?” inquired the man seated at their bedside. Upon closer inspection, they noticed his dark blue hair and identified him as Ciel; yet, (y/n) couldn't shake off the feeling that they were expecting someone else.

“I feel… fine, surprisingly. What happened yesterday?”

“You don't remember…?” he asked confused and (y/n) scratched the back of their neck. “Well, you weren't in your right mind, to say the least,” a tiny smile tugged at the corner of his lips, but (y/n) didn't notice. If they had, they'd have punched it right off.

“Either way, I made you some breakfast,” he offered them a plate. “Don't tell Lu.” Ciel added a little more serious than usual.

(y/n) studied their dish; it was smaller in quantity than what they were used to, and so it made up in craftsmanship. Not only was the pancake softer than anything they'd ever touched, but it also had a smiley face drawn in chocolate topping, together with a small ‘get well soon’ next to it.

(y/n) had never seen such effort put into breakfast before and couldn't contain the little blush that covered their cheeks. Ciel smiled at the sight.

Yet, despite the good start they'd gotten, (y/n) couldn't take their mind off the dream they just had. Who was it that they dreamed of? The thief could only feel disturbed and slightly horny, but the reason remains unknown.

The person in their dream had a name; what was it? It stood on the tip of their tongue…

“Ciel, wasn't there another guy with us?”

“There was? I'm fairly sure I found you alone.”

“Never mind… I probably just dreamed it all.” slouched (y/n). They could not tell why that person they forgot was so important to them and it frustrated them endlessly.

“Which parts do you remember from last night?” spoke Ciel, attempting to make conversation. (y/n) pondered on the question and didn't answer too quickly.

“...I was drinking what seemed like normal juice, but then I realized the sweet syrup in it was supposed to mask the taste of a drug. Something distracted me from that, but I just… can't remember what.”

“Drug?! Do you know who did this to you?”

“Yeah. It was the blond ponytail girl at the counter who I went to question with… with….?”

“With who?”

“I don't know. I don't remember,” they replied sheepishly to which Ciel sighed.

“I think I know what girl you're talking about. She also tried to break into my and Lu’s room, but not without good reason. We caught her a while after I found you unconscious; the whole El gang suspects she might be working with the demons.” (y/n) nodded in understanding, although they spaced out in the middle because the explanation was getting too long.

“We'll be waiting for you downstairs. Until then, eat your breakfast and take your time.” before leaving, Ciel ruffled their hair and (y/n) stopped responding.

At that point, they truly felt that something was missing and it wasn't just their memories of last night. Something like… something that would barge into their room and complain about getting along with a demon, even though Ciel was only half demon. Something that would throw the pancakes on the floor without an ounce of hesitation.

“(Mr/Ms) Thief, would you like to explain what that is in your lap?” and there he goes again, coming in uninvited with a glare that could kill.

(y/n)’s dream came back to them in an instant and they didn't know whether to hug themselves in embarrassment or run for their life. They couldn't even utter his name because of the overwhelming emotions that seemed to have popped up out of nowhere. Yet what they said was this:

“You don't have a wife collection, do you?”

“??? Are you trying to distract me from the devil’s food? Give me one reason why I shouldn't obliterate it right this instant,” Ain spat.

‘As grumpy as ever’, (y/n) thought and laughed out loud, a little relieved that their dream was far from reality. On the other hand, the priest was livid from that reaction.

“What did you just say about me, you puny human? I'll have you know I am Ishmael’s most trusted agent. No matter where you may hide I will find you and wipe you out in the name of the Goddess with precision the likes of which has never been seen before on this land, mark my words. Laugh, human, I'll serve the divine retribution you are owed nonetheless and you shall perish by my wrath.”

(y/n) did their best to abstain from laughing even louder, but it was to no avail; the gates had already been flooded, a swarm of pure joy took over their mouth and even stomach, for the endless laughter had made it hurt.

"Wow, and here I was, actually disturbed by you for some weird reason-" wiping off an imaginary tear they squeaked out, hiding their relief. Ain was not amused.

"I will not tolerate-"

"Nom." (y/n) nommed a quarter of a pancake, interrupting his incoming speech. Ain's aura had turned menacing as he approached the hungry thief's bed.

"Oh, do you want one too?" (y/n) munched; Ain froze.

"Preposterous."

"Dont lie, you know you want it."

"Such audacity. Take that poison away from my sight. Now."

(y/n) smirked and nommed another pancake. "Om nom, very yum. Me like."

Ain looked mortified as they ate pancakes one by one, until only half a piece remained. It was doused in chocolate to the point of feeling like a wet towel when touched; just the way (y/n) loved it.

"Are you suuuure you don't want any?" No answer.

He thought a little more; weren’t they in such a predicament because of him? His incompetence led to (y/n) laying in that bed after a shaky night they had no choice over. It was his fault only, for not noticing the subtle details and letting a vital member get almost injured from sheer stupidity from his part. Ishmael would believe that he had to atone.

Defeated and upset with himself, Ain shut his eyes and whispered, "Just one bite…"

(y/n) beamed at the response and gladly gave him the bite he asked for. At first he looked like he'd spit it out the instant he put the pancake in his mouth, but his face didn't lie as his features slowly relaxed. He hummed in delight.

And when things seemed to be going well, the dream came to their mind again, along with an idea.

"Hey Ain, you're really hot."

Perplexed, he spoke: "I'm not. My coat may seem warm, but was that supposed to be a question?"

"I didn't mean it that way."

"Then what way did you mean it in?"

(y/n) giggled.

~

Elesis: “You’re finally here! What took you so long?”

Ara: “Um, m-maybe it’s not very appropriate to ask that..?”

Aisha: “I don’t buy it one bit. (y/n)’s not smart enough to handle a guy like Ain.”

(y/n): “Oi, wanna fight?”

Rena: “Ahem.” the whole El gang’s attention was on her. “We have more important things to deal with, don’t we?” Everyone looked at the suspect; she seemed regretful.

Raven: “You should explain yourself now, while you have the chance.”

Add: “Can’t you see she clearly doesn't want to speak? We should just end her here and now.”

Eve: “Any allies of the enemy should be exterminated.”

Add: “See, even Eve agrees with me…! Kuku..”

Elsword: “Now that everyone’s here, tell us: why did you make a deal with the demons?”

Lu: “And to bring me down, no less. To bring me, Luciela R. Sourcream, down…!”

???: “What could I have possibly done…?” For a brief second, her and (y/n)’s eyes met.

Ain: “(y/n) and I can prove that Emily concealed vital information. When confronted about the drugged drinks, she avoided answering and ran away.”

Emily: “tsk..”

(y/n): “Why’d you do it though? Other than peace, don’t you have everything you need?”

Emily: “You know, maybe if you didn’t have your heads so far up your asses, you’d be aware. What kind of heroes are you guys if everyone's starving to death even when working their hardest?! Why should we care if demons invade us when even in this so called peaceful world we have nothing anyway!”

(y/n): “...Girl, have you looked at yourself?”

Emily: “...?”

(y/n): “Those mad skills of yours… they got me wondering if I was working in the wrong field. If you can even call what I’m doing ‘working’. You can move in the shadows better than I can, and I’ve been doing this for years! I’m surprised you’re not a demon by how fast you were moving.”

Emily: “...What are you on about?”

(y/n): “There’s a great future ahead of you, yes, you’re destined for greatness! You can get into places I’ve never been able to, you can swipe treasures I never even knew existed… Greatness, I say!”

Emily: “So you’re saying…”

(y/n): “Eat the rich, Emily. Eat the rich and sleep on their skins.”

Chung: “Ahahah, I don’t think that’s the lesson she had to learn…”

Aisha: “That’s a little ironic, coming from royalty…”

Ciel: “Now, now, whether or not we’ve learned anything, why don’t we eat this celebratory cake I’ve baked just for this occasion?”

Elesis: “Wow, what a convenient cake! I’m all for it!”

Lu: “Huhu, my butler never disappoints, as expected.”

Ain: “But doesn’t it seem like someone took a huge bite out of it?”

Elsword: “No way… (y/n), you betrayed us?!”

With a fistful of cake, (y/n): “I’d rather betray the world than let the world betray me!” then laughed proudly.

[artificialqueens]

Undone, Chapter 23 (Bitney) - Stephanie/Veronica

Summary: Bianca goes to NOLA for Latrice’s wedding, and returns home to a big surprise.

Thank you to our awesome beta readers: @missdandee and @kitschypixel

***

“Okay so, be honest...do I look fat?”

Courtney bursts out laughing, then stops abruptly when she sees Bianca’s hands on her hips, a deep scowl on her face.

“Sorry--I didn’t think you were serious,” she giggles. “Of course not.” Courtney leans back on the sofa cushions, cuddling the dogs to her chest.

“For the record, that is not the correct response to that question,” Bianca informs her, adjusting the straps on her Maid of Honor gown. “You’re a woman, how do you not know that?”

“Sorry,” Courtney shrugs, then offers aa conciliatory smile and adds, “You look beautiful.”

“But...I mean, can you tell I’ve gained weight? Are my sisters gonna be suspicious?”

“I honestly don’t think so.”

“Okay. Good,” Bianca sighs. “Thank god for empire waists.”

“Are you gonna be okay? I know it’s a big deal, and he’s not gonna be with you, so...” Courtney bites her lip. “Will it be weird?”

“Maybe a little, but...I mean, the people I care about already know. And everyone else...will probably just think he’s working, or something. I don’t really care, honestly.” It’s mostly true. Of course, she knows that she might get some awkward questions, questions that she really won’t want to answer. But she tries not to think about that, and more importantly, she doesn’t want Courtney to worry. So she goes on to assure her, “I’ll be fine.”

“Good.” Courtney nods, stroking the top of Dede’s head and gazing up at her.

“I kinda wish you were coming,” Bianca adds softly. It’s almost an afterthought, slipping out before Bianca can stop herself. Her cheeks flush with embarrassment, realizing how needy she must have sounded.

Courtney takes ahold of her hand and squeezes it.

“That might be a little hard to explain,” she says, trying to deflect from the intensity of her feelings. How much she’s dreading the separation, which she knows full well is ridiculous. It’s going to be a few days. When the fuck did she turn into such a co-dependent mess?

“Yeah,” Bianca agrees, although inside, she’s thinking that it wouldn’t, at all. In fact, it would be the easiest thing in the world to explain. This is Courtney. I accidentally fell in love with her. Oops. She gulps. “Plus it’s probably not gonna be a very vegan-friendly affair.”

“Besides, I need to watch the dogs, right?”

“Right,” Bianca chuckles.

“...but maybe next time,” Courtney says, and deep dimples appear in Bianca’s cheeks.

“Really?”

“I mean, they sound great. I’d love to meet them.” Her voice is light, but the offer seems genuine.

“Yeah that would be…” Bianca’s heart is pounding. She clears her throat. “I’m sure they’d love you.”

“It’ll be really nice, once you’re there. To be home,” Courtney says. Instead of what she wants to say. Fuck propriety, just take me with you.

“Yeah. I hope so.”

***

It is nice, being back, especially since it’s the first time in several years she’s around her old friends and family without Jared. She feels lighter - in spite of the weight gain that will definitely make her sisters suspicious. But even that doesn’t worry her, as she revels in the familiarity of it all. The warmth of these people with whom she grew up.

The hug from her mother, that first day, makes everything worth it. And when she lies down at the end of the night, body sore and aching but absolutely stuffed with all her favorite foods, she realizes that she’s got a valid excuse for looking a little plumper than usual.

Her nagging worries about the Jared Questions that she assumes are coming turn out to be overblown. At the rehearsal dinner, all anyone cares about is her job - does she really get to meet celebrities? Who’s the most difficult on set? Who seems nice but is actually a secret bitch? Can she get a discount on tickets to Universal Studios? She happily answers them all, even the dumb ones.

The ceremony is beautiful, charming, funny - perfectly suited to Latrice and Chris. At the reception, Bianca gets to sit at a table with Vanessa, her favorite (only) younger sister, the two of them cackling up a storm in no time.

Vanessa has no questions about Jared, but she does have a ton about “that sexy blonde you’re shackin’ up with.”

“That’s not exactly the situation,” Bianca tries to explain, but Vanessa isn’t buying it.

“Come on, throw me a bone! She’s the one you wouldn’t shut up about over Thanksgiving, right? Did you meet on set? Did you have some kind of steamy, torrid affair?” she tongues her straw, eyes sparkling.

“No...sorry to burst your bubble,” Bianca tells her.

“Aww, man!” Vanessa slouches, crossing her arms, disappointed. “What a bummer.”

“Sorry, but...the idea of an affair makes you happy?” Vanessa’s husband asks, furrowing his brow.

Vanessa huffs out a huge, put-up sigh, explaining, “No, Brock, the idea of B cheating on that fuckin’ douchebag makes me happy!”

“Wait...I thought you guys loved Jared,” Bianca says.

Vanessa exchanges a Look with DJ, across the table. If anyone knows Jared, it’s him - one of Bianca’s oldest friends, he also happened to live in New York while Bianca was in school there, and used to hang out with her and Jared all the time.

“Well…” DJ begins, clearing his throat, speaking as diplomatically as possible. “I mean, we did our best to accept him, since you loved him, and-”

“We hated that guy,” Vanessa cuts in.

“I didn’t hate him,” Brock offers.

“Shut up, you have no taste. Hated him. Good riddance.” Vanessa tosses back some wine.

“And...we’re real sorry about your impending divorce…?” DJ gives a smile that’s half grimace.

Bianca laughs a little, rising from the table. She would love to bask in the relief that everyone will unquestionably be on her side, but the wedding coordinator is gesturing for her frantically.

“Well...thanks for your support, guys. But I gotta go give a speech.”

“Don’t fuck it up!” Vanessa calls after her, and Bianca turns and gives her the finger before continuing to the front of the room.

She stands at the mic, looking out amongst the crowd of mostly familiar faces, gaze finally landing on Latrice, who beams up at her from her seat at the bridal table.

“Hi, I’m Bianca...but you guys probably know that.” Bianca clears her throat, reminding herself that this is friendly crowd, and to just relax and give the toast for her best friend. “Okay, so. I actually met Latrice in second grade. More specifically, I met her laugh. It was the best sound I’d ever heard, one morning in front of school as we were getting off the bus.”

“I was laughing because you told someone that they looked like a garbage can,” Latrice cuts in, grinning at the memory.  

“That was me, bitch!” Vanessa pipes up from the crowd.

“Well, you deserved it!” Bianca shoots back. “You never brushed your hair and you always had that awful Hello Kitty sweatshirt on. Inside out.”

“I was in kindergarten, you asshole!”

The crowd, most of whom know them all, are laughing now, and Bianca makes a face at her sister to shut her up before getting back to the speech she’d prepared.

“Anyway, I heard this laugh. This amazing, gorgeous laugh, and I turned around and saw Latrice, and introduced myself, and it turned out that she was going to be in my class. And so I informed her that we were now best friends.”

“So bossy,” Latrice comments, giggling affectionately.

“And I soon found out that she was the greatest best friend anyone could ever ask for. Kind, funny, generous, smart...and of course, that laugh. I made it my life goal to make her laugh as loud and often as possible. Bonus points for extra inappropriate situations like assemblies and math tests and church. And for many years, I was really proud of myself for being the person who made her laugh the most. Until of course, Chris came around.” Bianca pulls a face.

A few good-natured murmurs of “oooh” and “uh oh…”

“I was a little pissed at this at first. I’m not gonna lie,” Bianca continued. “But soon I got to know Chris too, and unfortunately, he’s so damn likeable, that I had to admit, she’s got amazing taste, in addition to all her other talents. So Chris, thank you for giving my best friend the love and respect and joy that she deserves, more than anyone else I know. Thank you for making her laugh.”

Bianca turns to Latrice, who now has tears streaming down her face.

“I love you so much.” She raises her glass. “Here’s to a beautiful marriage, and lots of laughter.”

As the guests applaud, Latrice jumps up, running towards her friend. Bianca puts down the mic just in time for a huge, tackle-hug, Latrice squeezing her so tight that she feels she might break.

The DJ cranks up the music and soon Bianca finds herself pulled onto the dance floor by both Latrice and Chris. She makes a halfhearted, laughing protest.

“Guys, aren’t they about to serve dinner-”

“Who cares, bitch, I’m the bride!” Latrice spins Bianca, encouraging more guests to join them on the dance floor, an unplanned interruption while the catering staff scurries to get dinner on the tables.

Bianca dances with her a bit before she’s swept away by various other friends and family members, when she takes the opportunity to get another drink and make her way back to their nearly empty table.

“Nice toast.”

Bianca looks up and smiles at Vanessa.

“No thanks to you.”

“So...uh, when were you gonna tell me about the baby?”

Bianca blinks, and Vanessa rolls her eyes, sitting down beside her, voice uncharacteristically low.

“Your tits are out of control. And, that’s your third cranberry juice...”

“How do you know there’s no vodka in here?”

“Is there?”

“...I’m doing a cleanse. You know...detoxing.”

“Ahh...a dairy and butter cleanse?” Vanessa raises her eyebrows. “Don’t play me, I saw you inhale 40 pounds of cheese during the cocktail hour. Good luck tryin’ to shit later, by the way.”

“Vanessa…” Bianca glances around, praying that no one she cares about is in hearing distance.

“Is Jared the father?”

“Yes! What kind of question is-”

“Hey, I’m not judgin’. It just seems like the timing is a little…”

“Fucked?”

“Yeah. You alright?”

Bianca sighs. In an ideal world, she would be basking in the idea of sharing this news. She’d have already told her mother and everyone in her family. They’d be celebrating, thinking about names. Thank god that she has Courtney, or she’d be going crazy.

“He doesn’t know yet. And...it’s still really early, so I don’t want to-”

“Don’t worry, I won’t say nothin’.”

“Anything.”

“Eat me, bitch.”

Bianca laughs softly, and Vanessa grins, plunking herself down into her lap.

“And I’m real happy about your future spawn.”

Bianca wraps her up into a big hug.

“I love you...little asshole.”

She’s a bit relieved, if she’s honest. That Vanessa knows. That someone knows. It allows her to breathe. To enjoy herself and let loose and have fun the way she used to, and the rest of the weekend zooms by in a happy blur. When she finally boards the plane on Monday, exhausted and full of love, she truly believes that everything will be okay.  

***

“Court?” Bianca calls, pulling her suitcase behind her.

There’s no answer, but the dogs come skittering across the wood floor, barking and wagging their tails excitedly.

“Hey babies,” she coos, scooping them up, wondering what Courtney’s up to. Her car’s home, but maybe she’s out on a run? Bianca continues down the hall to the bedrooms. “Whoa…”

Courtney sits in the guest room, hair piled atop her head in a messy bun, surrounded by flat pack furniture, every inch of the floor and bed covered in pieces, head in her hands.

“What’s, uh...goin’ on here?” Bianca asks.

Courtney looks up, eyes teary.

“I was trying to build the crib,” she says. “I wanted to surprise you.”

“That’s so sweet.” Bianca chuckles slightly. “And I mean...I am surprised, so-”

“I’m sorry, I know it’s a fucking disaster, I just can’t figure out these instructions and I already had to take it apart three times and I-” Courtney’s breath hitches as she tries to hold back her tears.

“Hey, it’s okay. Although we may have to revoke your lesbian card if you can’t even handle IKEA,” Bianca teases, then stops.

Courtney isn’t laughing along; she isn’t seeing any humor in the situation. She actually looks distraught. Bianca kneels down beside her.

“Court...hey...” A pang of guilt washes over her as she realizes that this is all her fault. Courtney is 27, and it’s the last day of a holiday weekend. She should be day drinking on a boat, or dancing in front of a barbecue full of veggie burgers - something fun, with music and friends and laughter. Not stressed out over building a crib for a baby that she never asked for.

“I’m so sorry, B.” The look on her face breaks Bianca’s heart. Just exhausted, miserable defeat.

“No, I’m sorry, I never meant to bring all this stress into your life-”

“You didn’t! I just wanted to do something nice for you, I-”

“You do nice things for me every day,” Bianca tells her, shaking her head. She reaches out to touch her hand softly. “You know what I was thinking when I was in the uber from the airport?”

“What?”

“I can’t wait to be home.”

Courtney looks at her for a few moments, not quite believing it.

“Really?”

“Really,” Bianca promises. “You know what else I was thinking?”

Courtney shakes her head.

“I’m really fucking hungry.”

“Oh god, shit, of course you are.” Courtney scrambles up, springing to action. “Um, we still have a bunch of that vegetable soup, and I think there’s some brown rice in the-”

“Courtney, I can fix dinner.”

“But you just took a long flight, and-”

“Yeah, but I wasn’t flying the plane. I was just sitting there, popping those herbal xanax you gave me. And by the way, those things are shit.”

“Sorry,” Courtney says, still a bit teary.

“I’m kidding. I mean, they are shit but...” Bianca trails off. Courtney is still looking a bit frayed and delicate, and maybe making fun of her isn’t what she needs at the moment. She takes a deep breath. “…Look, I know I’ve been a mess...”

When Courtney begins to protest, she holds up her hand.

“No, it’s true. I’ve been a mess. It’s okay to say it. But...I won’t always be a mess. And you’re allowed to have bad days, too. I need to be the one to take care of you sometimes. Okay?”

Courtney finally smiles, taking a deep breath and nodding.

“Okay.”

“There’s just one little...problem.”

“What? Are you okay? What-”

“I need help getting up.”

Courtney starts to laugh, pulling Bianca to her feet. Once they are face to face, Courtney looks at her for a long moment, eyes soft.

“I love you, B.”

For a brief moment, Bianca agonizes about what she means, exactly. What kind of love? Is she still talking about friendship? Is this a confession? What now? But then, she swallows back her swirling insecurities and simply goes with it. She wraps her arms around Courtney’s waist, buries her face in her neck. Breathes.

“I love you too, Court,” she murmurs softly against her skin.

***

Bianca stands at the stove, finishing up a quick stir fry, when Courtney enters the kitchen. Her hair is damp, face scrubbed clean, a look of mild embarrassment playing on her face.

“Hey...feeling any better?”

Courtney nods, fingering a lock of her hair.

“I’m sorry about all that, I was just-” She pauses, biting her lips, then changes course. “That smells good.”

“Come taste…”

She steps up to the stove, allowing Bianca to cup her chin, feeding her a piece of bell pepper off the wooden spoon.

“Seasoning okay? I think it needs more salt.”

“Maybe a tiny bit…” Courtney shifts, still looking uncomfortable.

Bianca focuses back on the stove, humming softly under her breath. When she lifts up her head to speak, it’s at the same time as Courtney.

“You know-”

“I just want-” Courtney stops, laughing a little. “Sorry, you go.”

“You’re allowed to have a bad day.”

“I know, but-”

“You think I don’t know, how stressful all of this has been for you? Just because you don’t complain, doesn’t mean I don’t understand.”

“It’s not like that, honestly.”

Bianca decides to leave it. Beckons her over to taste the food again.

“Better?”

“Perfect.”

Bianca wipes a tiny bit of sauce from Courtney’s lip with her thumb, sucks it into her own mouth without thinking. Her cheeks immediately begin to heat up, and she clears her throat.

“Um, can you grab plates? This is almost-”

“Sure, of course.” Courtney quickly busies herself with setting the table. “Want some coconut water?”

“Alright…” Bianca chuckles. “You know, I actually missed that damn coconut water this weekend.”

Courtney giggles.

“I’m glad you finally understand how good it is.”

“Only that brand though, and only when it’s diluted,” Bianca says, shaking the wooden spoon at her.

“Right, of course.” Courtney flashes her a smile.

When they sit down to eat, Bianca can’t shake the feeling that something has changed. Something unspoken and important. She catches Courtney’s eye and they exchange a long, heated look. Bianca feels her pulse quicken, knows that her cheeks must be at flushed as Courtney’s.

She squirms in her seat, trying unsuccessfully to shove aside her anxieties like she’d done earlier. Finally, she can’t take it anymore.

“What are we doing right now?”

Courtney shakes her head slowly.

“I don’t know.”

“I mean, you wanted to wait. Do you still-”

“I don’t know. It’s hard to know what’s right,” Courtney admits. “I’m just trying to...I’m a bit...conflicted.”

“That’s fair,” Bianca says, but can’t ignore the pang of disappointment in her chest. She really thought that something would be different tonight. She’s afraid to let herself hope that it still might be.

They eat the rest of the meal in relative silence, minds spinning. There’s so much they want to say - need to say - to each other, but neither of them knows where to begin.

Later, when Bianca stands at the sink and begins to scrub the pans, Courtney reaches into the hot, soapy water and pries the sponge out of her hand.

“You cooked,” she reasons.

“Okay, but, if you’d cooked, would you let me do the dishes?” Bianca asks.

“That’s not a fair comparison,” Courtney tells her, a smile pulling at her mouth.

“Why not?” Bianca releases the sponge.

“I’m not pregnant.”

“Yeah, thank god for that,” she mutters automatically, cringing a little when she sees Courtney’s eyes widen. “I mean, uh...I think I’m enough of a hormonal basket case for both of us.”

Courtney doesn’t respond to that, merely begins scrubbing the small saucepan vigorously.

Bianca sighs, drying her hands.

“Look, I know that you’re...that you have reservations, and I don’t blame you. And I’m not trying to pressure you, or...but my feelings haven’t changed. So, whenever you decide that you want to…” Bianca swallows down the lump rising in her throat. “I’ll be here.”

Courtney continues to scrub, slower now, appears to be mulling over what Bianca’s saying with grave consideration.

“I just want you to be sure,” she finally says.

“I’m sure.”

Courtney turns around and looks her in the eyes.

“And, I’ve never been sure about anything like this. But...yeah, I’m sure about you.”

Her eyes are so soft, so warm, and when Courtney looks at her, all the feelings she’s been pushing away for almost a year come flooding in. She drops the sponge and dries her hands, chest rising and falling rapidly with shallow little breaths.

Bianca waits.

Time seems to slow down as Courtney walks forward, eyes locked with Bianca’s. She stops, both hands reaching up to cup her face, gaze falling to her full lips, then back up to her eyes.

In spite of the heat in the kitchen, the hair prickles on the back of Bianca’s neck, nearly causing her to shiver in anticipation. Courtney’s so close now that she can feel her heartbeat, pounding as rapidly as her own. Her eyes flick down to Bianca’s softly parted lips again, and Bianca can’t help the breathy sigh that escapes her, feeling Courtney’s thumbs gently stroking her cheekbones.

Bianca licks her lips, still waiting, practically trembling now.

As Courtney closes the last bit of distance between them, Bianca’s eyes fall closed, entirely focused on the feel of soft lips pressing against hers, hands still holding her cheeks, grounding her.

It’s nothing like their first kiss, the breathless, intoxicated excitement of finally giving in to their innermost desires, the dangerous thrill of eyes on them. Or even later that night, alone, the desperation of knowing it could be the last time.

This kiss is soft, tentative at first--then slow, leisurely, utterly indulgent. Both of them well aware that they have all the time in the world, allowing themselves to breathe into it, feel every sensation down to their toes. This kiss is every unspoken glance, every disregarded feeling, every secret desire whispered in the dark.

Bianca can’t tell, once they separate, if it’s been seconds, minutes, or hours. All she knows, as Courtney presses a forehead against hers, is how right it feels, how safe and warm and perfect. She wraps her arms tightly around Courtney’s waist, entirely unmotivated to move from this spot, to let go of this moment. Her head drops, nose tucked into Courtney’s neck, inhaling her scent.

Almost unconsciously, her lips begin to trace Courtney’s collarbone, hungry for the taste of her skin. A stifled, high pitched whimper spurs her on, makes her grip Courtney’s waist tighter, kisses turning feverish, their embrace growing heated and sweaty. She backs Courtney up into the table, using the hard wooden surface to keep them both grounded.

Courtney’s fingers tangle deeper into her hair, body arching forward as Bianca’s hands slide up under her shirt. Her skin is still buttery soft from her shower, and Bianca rakes blunt nails up her back, tongue chasing the biting kisses along her neck.

The intensity builds in Bianca’s body, heart pounding so loudly that she almost doesn’t hear the sudden CRASH as a plate shatters to the floor.

“Shit!” Courtney reels back, gasping for air, cheeks a dark red.

Bianca gulps. Regret fills her chest - not at the (now former, RIP) plate, but at the fact that Courtney is no longer in her arms, that she’s tugging her shirt down and sliding off the table.

“Careful, you’ve got bare feet!”

“I’m okay,” Courtney says. “Don’t move; I’ll get a broom.”

“I-”

Bianca’s heart slowly stops pounding, and when Courtney reappears in the doorway, wearing tennis shoes and armed with a broom, she smiles sheepishly at her.

“I’m sorry about your dish.”

“It’s fine.” Courtney glances down, frowning. “You have bare feet, too.”

“Yeah, I know, hand me the-What are you doing?!” she shrieks, as Courtney begins to scoop her up. “You’re not gonna be able to lift me, stop-”

“Shhh…” Courtney carries her out of the kitchen and continues to the living room. Bianca stops squirming, quickly realizing that she isn’t going to drop her.

“This is a little excessive,” Bianca says, feet dangling, now secure in Courtney’s arms. She tilts her head girlishly. “I guess I should stop talking shit about CrossFit, huh?”

“Guess so,” Courtney deposits her onto the sofa and places a kiss lovingly on her forehead. “You can wait here; I’ll finish cleaning up.”

“But-”

Courtney tosses her a wink and scampers back to the kitchen. Bianca’s head drops to the cushions, a smile playing on her face.

***

“...B?”

Bianca’s eyes open slowly, registering that it’s now dark. Courtney kneels down in front of her, a hand on her waist.

“What time is it?” Bianca croaks, rubbing her eyes.

“Almost ten. I thought you’d probably want to move to an actual bed.”

Bianca yawns, nodding, and lets Courtney help her up from the sofa.

After Bianca quickly gets ready for bed, she pads down the hall to the bedroom, noticing a sliver of light coming from Courtney’s room. She knocks on the door, and it swings open a second later.

“Everything okay?”

“Sleep with me,” Bianca requests, following up a split second later with, “Please.”

As an answer, Courtney steps forward, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

Once they’re in bed, limbs tangled together, lips seeking each other out in the dark, Bianca feels so warm and content that her body immediately relaxes, eyes falling shut against her will. She struggles to keep them open, protesting weakly when Courtney stops kissing her and suggests that they should just sleep.

“I don’t wanna sleep,” she whines, fingers gripping Courtney’s t-shirt.

“You have a 6 am call tomorrow,” Courtney murmurs into her hair. “And you need to rest.”

Bianca lets out a small whimper, fighting the exhaustion weighing down on her, as Courtney wraps tighter around her.

“It’s okay. We’ve got plenty of time…”

“Mmmhmm…” Bianca finally relents, burying her face in Courtney’s hair as sleep envelopes her.

[aiyh]

AUs are a problem I have

I found all the original posts in this series from my deactivated blog and collected them here.

you work the register at a store I frequent and I get super self-conscious that you’re judging my purchases AU

our kids got paired up to do a school project and I meant to just drop mine off at your house but we ended up talking for three hours AU

battle of the bands AU

made small talk while waiting for different flights and assumed we’d never see each other again AU

our grandparents are in the same nursing home and they hate each other AU

arrested at the same protest AU

classic literature professor vs. modern literature professor AU

I injured myself doing something stupid at a holiday party and you’re the doctor at the emergency clinic AU

volunteered to wait tables at your fancy charity fundraising dinner AU

how do you keep getting my name that wrong on my coffee cup AU

adjacent stands at the farmer’s market AU

risked my job by talking you out of buying a crappy product at the store where I work AU

only two people who bought tickets to see this movie AU

don’t really care if I win that giant stuffed animal but keep playing the carnival game you’re running just to see you AU

our dogs are in love with each other and it’s making things awkward at the dog park AU

who’s this asshole who keeps beating my high score on Pac-Man AU

it’s a total coincidence that I happen to water my plants at the same time you jog past my house AU

our manager is making us push this crappy item that no one needs but you thought my sales pitch was funny so you bought it AU

interviewed you for the newspaper AU

I desperately need you to fix my laptop but please don’t judge me for my browser history AU

chef/ restaurant critic AU

my kid’s hamster died while she was at school and I don’t know how to tell her about death so long story short does your pet store have a hamster that looks just like the one in this photo AU

rival local news stations AU

news anchor/ meteorologist AU

I planned a program at the library where I work and you’re the only person who showed up AU

you are definitely drunk-texting the wrong number but I’m bored so I’m gonna keep this going for a while AU

I hate flying but your snarky announcements are a good distraction and you have a nice voice and I might be calling you Captain Cutie in my head AU

I made a dumb science joke in class and you’re the only one who laughed AU

auditioning for the same part AU

accidentally got drunk at a wine tasting AU

you’re the only other person I’ve ever met who can quote this movie AU

everyone else in our dorm has gone out but I have the flu, and I just heard you coughing pathetically from the next room, wanna share my stash of cough drops and marathon Netflix with me? AU

showed up to a Halloween party in matching costumes AU

will you pretend to be my date to my family’s holiday party so they’ll stop harassing me about being single, there’s food in it for you AU

Christmas lights rivalry AU

I found a bunch of your stuff when I moved into this apartment and I have no idea who you are but I think we might be soulmates AU

I teach in this classroom in the mornings and you teach in the evenings and we communicate entirely through notes left on the board AU

how the hell does your cat keep getting into my house AU

I volunteered for a sex study and you’re the lead researcher and thank god it’s acceptable for me to be turned on in this situation because damn AU

You’re the prosecutor and I’m the defense attorney on the most ridiculous case either of us have ever heard of and I don’t know about you but I’m not sure how much longer I can be serious about this thing AU

Got into an absurdly heated argument in the comments on a mutual friend’s Facebook post AU

Rival street performers AU

You keep bringing your car into my shop with a series of increasingly unlikely problems and my professional opinion is it’d be cheaper for you to just ask me to dinner already AU

Our families are having funeral visitations at the same time and we’re both hanging around outside because we can’t deal AU

I spent a whole subway ride checking you out but didn’t have the nerve to talk to you and thought I’d never see you again but you just showed up on Humans of New York AU

Cheering for opposing teams at a sports bar AU

My kid shoplifted from your store and I marched her back here to apologize to you AU

Why didn’t you tell me this cabin was haunted before I rented it from you AU

Character performers who only see each other at ren faires AU

My band plays at this restaurant every Friday and you always show up and make obscure requests and I know you’re trying to stump me but you’ve severely underestimated how much of a music geek I am AU

I’m the caterer and you’re the florist on a huge expensive wedding and we bond over what an awful person the mother of the bride is AU

We’re chaperoning kids at the same skating rink party and the last couple’s skate was pathetic so what do you say we show these little punks how it’s done AU

We’re both trying to get an apartment in this city at the same time as a million other people and I’m tired of competing for the same ones as you so I think it’s time we joined forces AU

Adjacent shops Christmas decorations war of escalation AU

We work at competing gossip magazines and keep trying to outdo each other’s ridiculous stories AU

Our moms belong to the same garden club and are fiercely competitive about their gardens and keep sending us to pick up supplies for them and would have matching heart attacks if they found out we’re hooking up every trip AU

My kid is in your class and you called me in for a parent-teacher conference and I don’t know what she did but she didn’t learn it from me and wait what do you mean you think she should skip a grade AU

We’re neighbors and I’m telling you this as a friend but if you give out pencils for Halloween again this year I’m going to look the other way when the kids roll your yard AU

I accidentally caught the neighbors’ yard(s) on fire while burning leaves and I didn’t think it could get worse but the volunteer fireman reprimanding me is gorgeous and clearly thinks I’m an idiot AU

I bought this talisman from your occult shop and I know you warned me but I didn’t think this stuff was real but it IS and now I need you to make it go away AU

You just sold a bunch of old books to my secondhand store for cheap and one of them’s worth a fortune and my partner will kill me if he finds out but I think you should have the money AU

I didn’t mean to get you arrested, I thought I was helping AU

I’m planning a heist and I need your very specific skillset to pull it off but when I tracked you down you’d become an alcoholic and spend your days cheating at video poker AU

Your pizza keeps getting delivered to my house by mistake and I need to talk to you about your choice of toppings AU

Prison chaplain/ wrongfully convicted death row inmate AU

You bring my grandmother a basket of homemade candy every Christmas and she keeps dropping hints about how great you are so we should probably go out at least once—you know, just to make grandma happy AU

I was down on my luck and had lost the will to live when I heard you playing the fiddle and long story short I think you saved my life AU

The PTA bake sale is coming up and you’ve outsold me two years in a row so I’m pulling out all the stops AU

I just quit my job and put all my belongings in a U-Haul and started driving, you’re the hitchhiker I picked up on a whim who I’m starting to think is a dangerous fugitive AU

Graffiti artist/ mural painter AU

You’re the only major film critic who hated my movie and I need to talk to you about it because I agree with you AU

[porkchop-ao3]

Hot Brownie Sundae: PART  4/4

NSFW

Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four

-

With my body not quite feeling sated and that post-orgasm feeling of exhaustion somehow absent, I turned to Zeta-7 and kissed him, feeling I.C pull out of me. Rick moaned into my lips and I reached for his shirt, pulling it up and over his head, only breaking the kiss for a second. I was feeling under-dressed, wanting both men totally exposed just like I was. I craved skin on skin contact with nothing in the way.

“You… you guys kissed. I wasn't ready for that. Damn near killed me.” I panted, breaking away from Zeta-7 to look between the two men.

“I'll do a lot more than kiss him, g-given half the chance.” I.C said playfully under his breath. He cupped a hand around the back of the other man's head and pulled him in again, initiating a much more precise, practised kiss this time around. I watched them, noticing the pink of a tongue peek out between them. Zeta-7 jolted, squeaking out in pleasant surprise, followed by a pleasured moan. A glance down revealed that he had a hand wrapped around his cock that wasn't mine or his. Seeing him touched so intimately by someone else did not bother me, like I half expected it to; whether it was because it was a man rather than a woman, or because it was another Rick specifically, I wasn't sure. I liked what I was seeing.

Zeta-7 broke the kiss, flushing deeply and glancing off to the side; showing the first hint of embarrassment I'd seen since starting this whole thing. I skimmed my hand up his side, up to his cheek, and I made him look at me.

“What do you want, baby?” I asked him. “You want me? Or… or do you want to do something with him?” I leaned into I.C, leaning my head against his shoulder. Rick and I were kneeling on the sofa, face to face, and I.C was stood up just next to me, we were all very close and the look on Zeta-7's face told me he was getting overwhelmed. Perhaps the effects of the ice cream were wearing off and some of his inhibitions were coming back...

“I-I-I want to- to fuck you while I.C watches behind you.”

Or, maybe not.

“S-so, I.C, if you sit down against the arm of the chair, and (y/n) sits in between your legs… I can lay down, an-and-” he didn't finish his sentence, quickly looking between us to see our reactions. A smile played on the corners of my lips. I could get used to this assertiveness.

“Th-that's hot. Let's do it.” I.C said bluntly, smirking widely.

I looked him up and down, taking in his bow tie and pink shirt. I smiled and turned around to face him; I could feel his cum running down my inner thighs and I loved it, especially when Zeta-7's hand came between my legs from behind, his fingers sliding over my drenched folds. He made a pleased little hum in the back of his throat. As he touched me I began to unbutton I.C's shirt, then I carefully shuffled his collar out from under the bow tie so I could undress him while leaving the tie in place.

He cocked a brow at me. “You like that?” He asked.

“Looks cute.” I told him with a wink. “Take a seat, cutie.”

He chuckled to himself, shaking his head as he moved around to sit down. He leaned back against the arm of the chair and spread his legs; leaning one up against the back of the sofa, and keeping the other on the ground. He patted the space between his legs, drawing my attention to his cock. He had lost his erection, unlike Zeta-7, since he hadn't actually eaten any of the ice cream. But he was getting it back quicker than I imagine he usually would. I was convinced exchanging bodily fluids had given him a smaller dose of the aphrodisiac, just like he had guessed.

I mentally rolled my eyes at myself, thinking of science and refractory periods at such a time. I took my seat between his legs and let him re-adjust his junk before leaning back; I could feel his hardening length against my lower back and thought about how hot it'd be for him to grind against me while Zeta-7 fucked me, so he could cum with us, and I could feel it behind me…

“Mm, fuck baby, you're gorgeous.” I.C moaned into my ear, bringing his hands around to my breasts, squeezing them and rolling my nipples between his fingers. They were much more sensitive than they usually were and his touch made me shiver, my whole body vibrating. When I was distracted by I.C's fingers, Zeta-7 parted my legs and laid between them, pressing kisses up my inner thighs. My pussy throbbed and clenched around nothing, simply aching for attention. I wailed, leaning my head back against I.C’s shoulder. I needed more.

“T-touch me, Rick.” I moaned, then I felt his mouth on me, sucking my clit and tugging gently at my folds. It occurred to me that he must be tasting I.C's cum, and what's more he didn't seem to mind at all. The arousing thought had my hips rolling into his mouth, my hand moving to fist in his hair. I heard I.C hiss behind me, his own hips jolting upwards at my movement.

There was so much happening; the sound of I.C's rumbling moans right in my ear, his hands working wonders on my breasts, bringing sparks of pleasure to my upper body while Zeta-7 catered to my bottom half. I felt like the luckiest girl in the world having so much attention lavished on my body. I could barely keep my eyes open and my sounds under control.

“You gonna cum on his face, sweetie? On that tongue? Hmm. I wanna see you lose it, baby, I wanna see you ride his face until your legs are shaking. Fuck, you're so hot.” I.C murmured continuously into my ear between quick pants, his hips gyrating behind me and getting my back sticky with precum.

“Ohh I'm gonna cum!” I sighed, stroking both hands through Rick's hair, encouraging him as he tongued my entrance, lapping away at his alternate self’s ejaculate. He hummed quietly between my legs, his hands tracing patterns up and down my inner thighs. Everywhere on my body was alight with tingles, pulsing and spreading through each limb, building to a precipice that I reached when he sucked on my clit again. “Fuck!” I yelled, being thrown back into that magnificent state of solitary bliss, where everything disappeared but the pleasure and I felt like I could float away.

The first thing I saw when I opened my eyes was Zeta-7. He'd moved closer to me, he was kissing my temple as his fingers worked me down from my climax, and he was whispering to me.

“-so special, so pr-pretty… taste so sw-sweet and you m-make me so…” I only caught parts of it through my heavy breaths but it all sounded so nice, I reached for his hips and pulled him flush to me, hinting that I wanted him right then. With a high pitched, desperate whine, he entered me. He was slightly larger than I.C – though I would never mention it out loud – and I wondered if it was the same compared to most other Rick's.

Maybe that's why they hated him so much.

Usually it would sting for just a while when we slept together, despite us taking the time to ensure I was ready, but this time all I felt was warm, smooth bliss when he buried himself deep inside. I clung to him with an arm around the back of his neck, and he was quick to start moving, fucking into me with quick, even thrusts. I was pinned between them both, once again bouncing back and forth at the center of it all and I couldn't think of anywhere I'd rather be. I.C was grinding more ardently, gripping onto my breasts for support as he rubbed the length of his cock up and down the dip in my lower back. It was exactly what I'd fantasised about, and I didn't even have to tell him. His chin was resting on my shoulder and he had a front row view to Rick and I's lovemaking.

It was tight for space on the sofa but that made for a lot of skin on skin contact. I felt friction everywhere, the cling of skin, damp from perspiration, I could feel breaths rolling over me from both men. As far as I was concerned I was at the center of the universe, nothing could beat this. I dropped one hand to I.C's thigh, stroking it up and down while my other arm held Zeta-7 close. I was so wet, a combination of my own arousal and I.C's cum, Rick fucked me with slick, smooth ease and I knew neither of us would last for long. I.C seemed to be the same, if the wet spot on my back was anything to go by.

“Cum inside me. I wanna feel your cock twitching and filling me up, just like I.C did. Please, baby.” I moaned, pressing my forehead into Zeta-7's. A hand reached around me, and I.C combed his fingers through Rick's hair then trailed his hand down his back, following the motion of his body, back and forth.

“I'm gonna blow my load back here if you keep talking like that.” I.C warned, as if that wasn't part of the plan.

“Do it! I like that. Cum all over us both.” I turned my head and he kissed me. With my neck exposed, Zeta-7 sucked on it, no doubt marking me as his; despite sharing me just this once. I moaned helplessly, ravished by them both and loving every second of it. Every stroke of Rick's cock sent magic straight to my core, my vision blurred once again as my peak drew near.

“Y-y-you're so- I can feel you squ-squeezing me and it feels so good. Y-you're close, aren't you?” Zeta-7 breathed, unlatching his mouth from my neck to look at me. I broke I.C and I's kiss so I could nod my head and catch my breath. “Cum. I love the way you feel when you cum with me inside you. N-nothing feels better.” He added, kissing the corner of my mouth once, twice.

“Ugh, fuck.” I.C grunted, the hand still on my breast tightening, along the the one that had made its way back to Zeta-7's hair. “Ohh I'm cumming.” He wailed, his head rolling back.

I felt him spilling, hot spurts hitting my back and making the space between us slicker as he rocked his hips through it. It was too much, and my third orgasm hit, just as intense if not more so than my first two.

“Yesss! Fuck me! Ohh…” I moaned shamelessly, and Rick picked up his speed, altering his position so he could plow into me with more force than he ever used with me ordinarily. He was grunting with his jaw tightly clenched, and his brow was furrowed in concentration. I'd never seen him so riled up, it all suddenly felt very animalistic, and my pussy ached wonderfully with the afterglow of orgasm as he came inside me. I could feel his cum leaking from me as he continued to fuck me past his peak, and his hips stuttered to a stop before he collapsed on top of me, sweaty and out of breath.

I wrapped my arms around his back, hugging him tightly as my body relaxed. I was beginning to feel lethargic, and despite my body telling me I was still aroused and I could go for another round, my brain told me I should stop.

Rick shifted his hips, letting his softening cock slip out of me before sliding down a little on the sofa, resting his head against my chest. The three of us laid there for a while, sticky and covered with bodily fluids, but unwilling to do anything about it. I was slowly returning to my usual self, becoming more and more surprised by how the evening had gone to such a place. Not that I disliked where it had gone, it had just been very unexpected, now that whatever was in that ice cream was beginning to ease its effect.

Zeta-7 was the first to move. He pushed himself up, removing himself from I.C and I's grip, and sat on the other end of the sofa for a while, scrubbing at his face as if he'd just woken up. He glanced back over at us, his eyes darting back and forth between the two of us, wide and slightly startled.

“Oh, um, I should… we should probably shower and th-think about getting some dinner.” He said to me, very quietly. He had a lot of colour in his cheeks, like he always did after sex, but this time it wasn't fading. I nodded, sitting up and away from I.C. The cum on my back was drying and I winced at the sensation.

“You guys can use the shower upstairs. I'll jus-just wash up down here.” I.C said, gesturing to the sink on the other side of the room.

“Are you sure?” I questioned. He nodded and gave me a small smile.

“The family aren't here, by the way, s-so don't worry about bumping into anyone.” He assured me. Christ, that hadn't even crossed my mind, thank god that was the case. I looked back at Zeta-7 and he nodded, rising to his feet.

We showered together mostly in silence. He helped wash me, running soapy hands up and down my back and between my legs. As the water washed away the suds he pulled me into his chest, resting his chin on the top of my head. We stood there for a while, and I didn't know what to say to him because I was unable to gauge his emotion. Did he regret what we'd done? Was he angry with me for wanting to involve someone else? Was he disgusted with me for the way I had behaved?

I.C was sat in the living room when we left the bathroom. He was watching something on TV, but he gave us his full attention when he noticed us.

“We're going to finish our… our date.” I said, realising how ridiculous it sounded to continue calling this a date. Who has a threesome during a date?

“Right. O-of course.” He nodded, standing up and approaching us. The three of us looked at each other for a while, and the whole atmosphere felt… weird. Not uncomfortable, necessarily, just weird. What were you meant to say in these situations?

“Th-thank you for showing us your lab. It was- it was interesting to see where you work on y-your recipes.” Zeta-7 said kindly, offering a smile.

“No worries. Y-you're both welcome back anytime to do it again.” He replied, returning the smile, twice as wide. Though it quickly dropped. “I don't mean- not to, uh… to see the lab again.” He clarified, clearing his throat. I giggled.

Two sets of brown eyes peered over at me.

“Oh? Aren't we going to address what just happened?” I mused.

“I mean, if you wanna debrief, we can-”

“W-we know never to try anything without your permission, next time we come here.” Zeta-7 cut in. “It was a silly thing to do and I can only apologise, I.C. I'm sorry.”

“Apologise?” I.C responded looking utterly dumbfounded. Then he snorted, shaking his head. “You know what? I-I forgive you.” He smirked.

“I hope this doesn't affect your friendship.” I said.

“It won't. What's a little threesome between friends, huh?” He laughed, ruffling Zeta-7's hair playfully. He laughed a little awkwardly, his cheeks reddening in response. “In fact, it's brought us closer together.”

“Well yes, literally I suppose it has…” Zeta-7 sighed, looking down. I.C laughed.

“Don't worry about it, Doof. We had fun, right?”

Rick, rather bashfully, nodded his head.

“Then there's nothing to agonise over. I know this one likes to worry, don't let him give himself an ulcer.” I.C looked to me with a meaningful expression. I nodded. “But I think I'll take you up on your offer for help on this new project. Clearly it's not quite right, i-i-it shouldn't be able to affect anyone who hasn't eaten any, like that.” He turned back to Rick, frowning, deep in thought.

“I'd be happy to help.” Zeta-7 smiled, reaching his hand out. I.C shook it firmly, returning his smile.

“Now. Get lost and find somewhere to have your romantic dinner so I can order takeout in peace.”

He turned and planted himself back in front of the TV. Whether he'd intended it or not, the way he'd said that made me feel a little bad. I shouldn't pity someone for spending time alone, but the idea of him being on his own while Zeta-7 and I had each other… maybe I was being too sentimental, but…

“And by the way, that wasn't meant to make you feel bad. I-I-I don't have enough cash on me to order food for you guys too, so I genuinely need you to get lost. No offence.” He flashed a smirk over his shoulder, as if reading my mind.

Zeta-7 and I shared a look before nodding. He pulled out his portal gun and twisted the dial.

“See you soon, I.C.” He called out, opening up a portal in the living room wall.

“Yeah, don't be a stranger. You too, (y/n), it was nice meeting you.” He replied, chuckling. “I feel like I've known you much longer than a day.” He added, his tone dripping with dark humour.

“I wonder why.” I snorted, shaking my head. “Goodbye, I.C.” I waved at him, even though he wasn't looking.

Rick and I stepped through the portal and arrived outside his house, next to his ship. Neither of us would hear the sigh escaping the other Rick's lips, or see the dejected pout on his face, once the portal closed.

We got into Rick's ship and fastened our seatbelts. “The usual place? They still serve food for the next couple of hours.” I suggested. He was quiet for a while, leaning against the steering wheel and staring forwards.

“Are you- are you alright?” He asked me.

“Hm? Yes. I'm fine. Why?”

“I'm just… I feel bad for you being in the middle of all that.” He admitted, and I stared at him with my eyes wider than saucers.

“Do you think that I didn't like that?” I asked. He shrugged his shoulders.

“It must've been a lot. A-and I don't want you feeling disrespected, not for a second. It was never m-m-my intention to pass you around like- like-” He sighed, giving up. “I think very highly of you, you're precious t-to me. I don't want you thinking that you were just a- a toy or something, f-for our amusement.”

“Rick… none of us were really ourselves back there. Even I.C. When I, um, when I kissed him, he seemed to change. I think he really was affected too, I'm not a scientist and I don't know why, but.” I admitted to him, twiddling my fingers anxiously as I recounted the experience. It was strange talking to my boyfriend about kissing someone else.

“I suspect it has something to do with the exchange of chemicals through bodily fluids.  B-but that doesn't matter right now, what matters is how you feel.” He replied, gnawing on his bottom lip as he watched my face.

“I didn't feel passed around or disrespected. Both of you were considerate of me, and I had a good time. It felt- well, you know how it felt.” I chuckled, and I caught the glimmer of a smile on his face.

“Okay. You're sure?” He questioned, I nodded my head firmly. “Well, I suppose if you're happy, I am happy.” He sighed. He still had a troubled expression on his face, so I leaned over to him and kissed his cheek.

“I am very happy.” I assured him, playing with his hair, still damp from the shower. “And hungry.”

“Alright.” He laughed. “I’ll take the hint. I-I-I will stop fussing and drive us to the restaurant.”

“You're an angel.” I whispered, planting another smooch on his cheek before leaning back in my seat.

“B-be careful what you say to me, I don't think I'm qu-quite right just yet.” He laughed, flushing and starting up the ship.

“Me neither!” I exclaimed, grinning in amusement; I was glad I wasn't the only one with lingering warmth. “Perhaps we'll have to get it all out of our systems after dinner. You know, because it can't be healthy to suppress it.” I said slyly.

“Ohhh, is that so? I s-suppose you could be right.” He chuckled, shaking his head. I smiled and placed my hand on his knee, keeping it there for the whole journey as we fell into comfortable silence.

Fin!

Do let me know what you thought of this one, I worked on it for a long time and I’d love to hear your thoughts! It was a challenge to write Zeta-7 in this kind of a situation, I hope I handled it well. Thank you for reading!

[nerice]

tag game

got tagged by the absolutely lovely @kizunah  💕 to answer these questions and provide new ones for the people i’m tagging

1) who’s one of your favorite characters and why?

lllllllisten all my fav characters are just me picking those i can project oc emotions on so im??! hm. i can barely answer this w/o dragging myself. so the answer is gonna be mina greene from the deepgate codex with which i surprise exactly no one cuz i love a hot lady of questionable moral standing who achieved immortality thru obscure means & carries her surpreme demon warlord puppy around w/ her

please read the deepgate codex

2) last book you read – what did you think of it?

the wise man’s fear by patrick rothfuss!! & um.. i do like and dislike the kingkiller chronicles for a bunch of reasons. i’m not a fan of first person pov but this series made me kind of fall in love w/ it & i love love LOVE the embedded narrative it has. also some self-indulgent oc feels here and there. but at the same time it is Long Unfinished Traditional Fantasy with too many words and too few girls. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

3) do you consider yourself a good decision maker?

i decide which anime to watch next and which book series to start thru random number generator & tells u everything u gotta know abt my decision making skills. jesus take the wheel

4) preferred studying method?

cram last second?? i hate doing it but apparently that’s how my brain works and i get good grades, so..... Do Not Recommend Tho!

5) favorite word from your native language?

im gonna cheat and go with italian, “scoiattolo” (squirrel) bcos fsr that was little me’s fav word and the only part of the entire language i retained after moving to germany lol

6) do you have a problematic character you’d die for?

faye? shit do ocs count?? my general approach to my fav problematic characters is ‘oh pls die’ so idk what to tell ya. 

7) is there something you felt like you’d never be good at, but are somewhat decent at doing now?

drawing....

8) what’s your general temperament like?

i get vry heated vry quickly when discussing things i like/dislike but otherwise im a very chill person

9) something you want to get better at?

digital art.............. How

10) something popular everyone else likes but you don’t?

i don’t...... wanna start shit.. or talk shit....... but yes there is A Many Things

11) before consuming books/movies, do you read reviews, or do you like going in blind?

reviews are bs im here for subjective enjoyment catered to my specific ass tastes so nope. if i can i absolutely wanna go in blind w/ every piece of media i consume

bonus: if you write, what’s the most you’ve ever written in one sitting?

very good very hard question!!!! idk!!! i’ve def written as much as 10k in one sitting before. so somewhere between 10-15k probably. 

THESE QUESTIONS WERE SO GOOD MARIAM ILY!!!!!!  💕💕💕💕 im godawful at comin up with new ones so im gonna pass the same questions on to @cospinol @ispybluesky @leecherish @gogomarinette aaand @ruisninomiya​

the original list is under the cut

who’s one of your favorite characters and why?

last book you read – what did you think of it?

do you consider yourself a good decision maker?

preferred studying method?

favorite word from your native language?

do you have a problematic character you’d die for?

is there something you felt like you’d never be good at, but are somewhat decent at doing now?

what’s your general temperament like?

something you want to get better at?

something popular everyone else likes but you don’t?

before consuming books/movies, do you read reviews, or do you like going in blind?

bonus: if you write, what’s the most you’ve ever written in one sitting?

[rugeon]

The level design of V&A Design/Play/Disrupt

Recently went to the V&A expo on videogames and thought it might be fun to try and think about it’s ‘level design’. I realise its silly to call it that and is more informed by planning an exhibition/ event planning and architecture, but w/e.

[pictured:  how do you Do it?, 2014 - Nina Freeman, Emmett Butler, Decky Coss, and Joni Kittaka]

This is mostly gonna be some simple thoughts on the experience of traversing the space of this exhibition, and how that space is used effectively to create different effects/ experiences, as well as notes on the smarter considerations on how the experience is paced/sequenced.

This warped/truncated/inaccurate/drawn from flawed memory map roughly shows the layout of the V&A expo:

The whole exhibition can be roughly broken up into four fairly distinct parts:

Exhibits of the design of different video games from differently sized studios ~2009 onwards. [blue]

Articles, talking points, video discussions and exhibits of games as part of our broader social context, concerned with violence, gender, sex, sexuality, race, language, protest etc. [orange]

A large video theatre showing some of the communities that form around games. [red]

An arcade showcasing several more experimental games and projects, that is open to free play. [yellow]

DESIGN

When you walk in you are greeted by a huge projector flashing between collages of the various exhibitions and the alternating titles DESIGN, PLAY, DISRUPT.

[pictured slides from Jenny Jiao Hsia’s talk on prototyping to make her game: ‘Consume Me’, 2016]

Seeing this is unavoidable when entering, and it serves as something of a banner to signal the transition into the formal exhibition space. YOU HAVE ENTERED THE WORLD OF THE VIDEO GAMES.

Mapping this first area of the 1. Design section of the exhibit we get something like this:

Note that these numbers are in an arbitrary order of roughly when I encountered them, and are not indicative of density, just general location of possibly several bits of each exhibit. Also this list is not exhaustive, nor is the map strictly accurate, I do not have an eidetic memory, but I do have a notebook and a smartphone.

Design/Play/DIsrupt screen

Large Print Text Binders

‘Journey’ gameplay montage projection

Notebooks, sketches, a headphone + video prototype demo, inspo photos/footage, graph and board of intended player journeys/narrative threads

‘Last of Us’ Dual screen demo showing gameplay and some of the work relevant to make that part of the game happen

Sketches, notebooks, board plotting out story events/setpieces in seasons, film made for atmosphere reference, blue sky concept art, colour scripts

Mocap footage +suit

Matt Lees @jam _sponge describing the anxious, excitable play of ‘Bloodborne’ between 3 screens.

Notebooks, sketches+concept art, level design docs, and SketchUp pics of early levels, headphones to listen to a recording of the soundtrack

Bunch of top designs for ‘Splatoon’

Early Prototype, creature sketches, fashion asset design

Playable prototypes from the making of Consume Me

Notebooks, corkboards, workplace ephemera, unity project demo, headphone + video 40 minute talk on prototypes

Music from ‘Kentucky Route Zero’ / KR0, visual representation of branching dialogue in twine, Margritte’s ‘Spring in the Forest’

Inspirations, typeface considerations, group wiki, twine showcase

Realtime Art Manifesto, Even more notebooks, with sketches and details of designing Tale of Tale’s ‘The Graveyard’

Playable demo of The Graveyard

Bench

Multi-screen montage of generated worlds in ‘No Man’s Sky’

Blueprint tool for spaceships, terrain debug tool, sci-fi inspirations

Visual inspirations

So what are some of the ways we can think about how this expo was laid out? 

For a start it’s fairly linear, there are no branching paths at Design/Play/Disrupt, it’d be a layout ill-suited to somewhere like this where there’s a strong desire for the audience to see all the content and assets (the exhibits) and not miss any pieces that time was spent curating. Thankfully unlike some videogames, this linearity is not gated. There are no attendants fiendishly running up behind you and closing doors as you move from one game to another, people might have missed something, or want to visit an earlier piece while friends are preoccupied with something for a little longer.

Exhibits are visited for the most part in a defined order, with some freedom in the Kentucky Route Zero/Graveyard room as well as the Splatoon/Consume Me room. You are encouraged to experience what is on display for each work and are being guided in a deliberate order, as opposed to set loose in an open hall with no boundaries where some attendees might skip or miss a part of the exhibition.

One thing tying sections you can explore or skip is their loose thematic / tonal linking:

To put it another way, there is a good reason that Bloodborne is next to The Last of Us. Both are triple-A big budget, rated 16+, 18+ action games for blood guts and all the cheery stuff. Consume Me and Splatoon work well next to eachother as the cute aesthetic and playable prototypes hanging from the ceiling work well across from Nintendo’s colourful and playful Splatoon. It would be a bit less natural to have the grotesque and rapacious sounds of Bloodborne echoing within the exact same room as Splatoon. I’m not saying any of these works don’t have some commonality beyond the arbitrary border I’ve drawn, but they fit better together. 

- Plus this open space invites an atmosphere of play after having just been cramped into two games rooms that feature horror elements

[Pictured: Splatoon’s section, as well as Consume Me minigame prototypes open to play, suspended from the ceiling]

This also showcases another thing about this event applicable to level design: the same space can be made appealing to different types of audiences. This is an exhibit about video games. I’ll admit this is just my gut but I’d be willing to bet that this exhibit is more likely to be attended by parents and their children than it would most other exhibits. I don’t know exactly what the V&A’s idea of the ideal attendant is, and that’s probably owed to the fact that this event catered to lots of different levels of assumed knowledge and engagement with videogames. 

Parent’s who might be a little out of touch with mainstream games, are quite likely to have been put off by bringing their kid to something that was entirely wall to wall Bloodborne, Dark Souls and other things as frightening (as much as I personally would have enjoyed that). Standing watching a parent pull their rapt child away from dulcet descriptions of how deadly mistakes are, in the big monster game, the success of the exhibition is apparent; the next room is a bit more targeted towards that kid’s age range (even though they did seem pretty into Bloodborne). 

[The concept art from Bloodborne is such a treat]

It’s no surprise as well that the first game is not The Last of Us, but Journey. More people are playing games now than ever but there remains a fair few people who still don’t really know what’s going on in games. As an exhibition that in part is attempting to show the breadth and depth of games being designed, it makes sense that the first introduction to what games are being made is a game without much in the way of traditional combative interaction. 

To wafflingly reiterate: the sequence of how things were placed matters: The accessibility options: 2. [Large Print Binders] are available at the start. Benches and places to sit are placed later throughout the exhibit (including rather wittily across from The Graveyard; a game where the entire goal is to make an old woman sit on a bench).

Reinforcing this point of how the same space can be made to cater to different people this event was extremely Multimedia. Explanations of parts each games design process written up, sketchbooks, and lots of different drawings, scrawled graphs, charts and plans. Concept art, drawings. Video of prototypes and animation, Sounds of ‘Long Journey Home’ echoing up the hall, and the omnipresent dread of Matt Lees echoing down, as well as headphones to listen to specific parts of the exhibition that might be less suited to how crowded the soundscape is or be for a more narrow audience (I wonder how many of the attendants listened to all ~40 Minutes of Jenny Jiao Hsia’s talk on prototyping. I did. It was good). Just in this section of the exhibit, there were so many different means of engagement, and they all felt very well matched to the story of each games development that they wanted to tell, while still offering different types of engagement. People can be looking at a video display showing how the layers of environmental concept art become important and manifest in The Last of Us, while someone else is poring over sketches of Ellie’s design. 

[Corkboard plotting out events + setpieces across the timeline of The Last of Us]

As an exhibition space, it is made with the fact that multiple people are occupying it at the same time in mind. If something is not available you can engage with something else. And if one type of engagement is not to your tastes there’s a good chance something else will be- not bothered about the wiki used to help the team of KR0 to communicate? Maybe you’ll be more interested in some of Ben Babbit’s sonic improvisations, or the visual inspirations involved in the creation of the game.

There’s more I could talk about wrt this first sections layout of how it winds you around instead of giving you a straightline to the exit, the choice of games playable being fundamentlly simple, an anecdotally sweet image of a child holding the obscenely big original xbox ‘duke controller’  on a pedestal and their dad cradling their hands. But I’ll just leave off this post here for now and maybe continue looking at V&A things and posting about it later.

To be continued..?

[hgfstreamchats]

Demon Knight and Bordello of Blood

thenightetc Hello! Me Night human! And Soundwave -- what an eerie, yet pleasant surprise! thenightetc Wouldn't be October without that video making an appearance. Me Perish the thought. NoodlesAtNight [[Knock Out. He looks forward to being unnerved by human monsters.]] Me That much I can promise. Also this, which apparently happened. thenightetc I don't remember THIS episode. Me Is this what humans normally do after they die? Me Is this your version of the Well? thenightetc Technically, I can't prove that's NOT true. thenightetc So who can really say. Me Close enough to a fact for me.

thenightetc ...That sounded like a remix of the Simpsons theme song for a moment there. Me It did, didn't it? Same composer, apparently. thenightetc Makes sense. thenightetc Looks like SOMEbody had an exciting night! Me Ew. thenightetc So is the director literally the Cryptkeeper? Ahhhh. Me Looks to be the case. thenightetc I kinda forgot about how fourth-wall this got. Me It's very unapologetic about it. NoodlesAtNight [[Tsk. Humans are so careless with fuel.]] Me Starving vehicles would be happy to have that. thenightetc Is that a can of gasoline. Me He looks legit. thenightetc Probably not the devil or anything. Me He has a nice hat. Therefore, trustworthy. thenightetc Man, this guy's not making it out of the episode alive. Me One gets the sense that half of these characters are going to be introduced to the insides of their own faces. NoodlesAtNight [[As long as the cat survives.]] Me The cat steals a car and drives away from this nonsense. NoodlesAtNight [[His name is ROACH?]] [[Nothing good can come of him.]] Me Plot twist, he's just several thousand roaches in a man costume. thenightetc There probably is an episode like that. 😃 NoodlesAtNight [[That is the most horrifying thing you have ever said.]] thenightetc You could stream it next time! Me I do my best. thenightetc How do the cops even know it's him. Or, how DID they know. NoodlesAtNight [[Stranger in a tiny town.]] NoodlesAtNight [[All good relics look like keys.]] NoodlesAtNight [[Or books. Books also.]] thenightetc The world is just opening up for him, huh. Me I wouldn't generalize quite so much. The phase shifter looks like a cleaning drone. NoodlesAtNight [[You choose which relics please you, and he'll choose which ones please him.]] Me Point, point. Ha. NoodlesAtNight [[He sees the fleshling's met Frenzy.]] Me I like the unnecessary panther growl. thenightetc Like I said. Definitely not the devil. NoodlesAtNight [[How unsanitary.]] thenightetc Probably just a minor functionary. thenightetc One of the demons skulking around back at the utility box NoodlesAtNight [[Urgh.]] thenightetc "I'm gonna go out THERE and die" thenightetc Haha. Me He's so charming! Better give it to him. thenightetc Maybe he should hurry up sealing all the windows. It's a motel; there'll be one in every room. NoodlesAtNight [[Dripping it seems inefficient. Uses too much. Why not use a paint brush?]] [[Dip it in, tap it to the window.]] Me Efficient and artsy. NoodlesAtNight [[Lies. Listen not.]] Me I like the elephant in the room, that the Crypt Keeper apparently sat down and wrote this. thenightetc Ew. NoodlesAtNight [[That is package delivery of the wrong sort.]] Me Hah! ThebesAce Hello! Me Hello, Thebes human! Just in time! thenightetc Hi! ThebesAce wow, those are some excellent effects considering NoodlesAtNight [[He hopes she'll get severance pay.]] Me She fought bravely and deserves a hand. NoodlesAtNight [[Oh, very nice. Very nice indeed.]] Me Likewise! NoodlesAtNight [[Of course they're there. What hunter and manipulator wouldn't look for ways into the motel?]] thenightetc "being bait?" thenightetc This episode is so subtle, I just don't know what they're trying to say here. NoodlesAtNight [[All the more reason to use it lightly.]] thenightetc Imagining the Crypt Keeper just offscreen here. Me Getting a little too into his project. NoodlesAtNight [[He would have to be, wouldn't he? How else would he know?]] Me You know, she's looking much better. I think she'll be all right. thenightetc He's going to have a heart attack. thenightetc Wow. Me You know, the first time I saw this, I thought he was tricking him into drinking the blood. I'm annoyed that wasn't the case. NoodlesAtNight [[Of course it is the roach who betrays.]] Me I wish I could enjoy anything as much as this human's enjoying this role. thenightetc *character in comic book looks directly at the camera like they're in The Office* NoodlesAtNight [[Hm. That cannot be good.]] thenightetc Ha. Good for her. NoodlesAtNight [[Dancing with the devil in the pale... spotlight?]] Me Hah. NoodlesAtNight *This sounds like him.* thenightetc What a pathetic display. thenightetc Good for her. Me Just take the whole corpse. Have a fresh supply always on tap. NoodlesAtNight [[Don't human corpses stop producing blood after a while?]] Me That one clearly doesn't. thenightetc Thank god nobody's going to want to question the sole surviver of a massive bloodbath. NoodlesAtNight [[...How long is this arm?]] Me I like his glitter suit. NoodlesAtNight [[He could use a better makeup artist.]] Me There's another one, but I have no idea if anyone's interested in it or if it's any good. Unlike this one, I haven't seen it. thenightetc I could go for another! NoodlesAtNight [[Which one might that be?]] Me Bordello of Blood. thenightetc Sounds tasteful. NoodlesAtNight [[Must cater to a specific kink.]] ThebesAce indeed! Me Very specific. NoodlesAtNight [[He supposes he'll watch.]] thenightetc And I'm sure the fourth-wall breaking parts will be EXTRA tasteful. thenightetc Let's hope the crypt keeper keeps his crypt zipped! If you know what I mean. ThebesAce Yeah, would not like to contemplate his rigor mortis thenightetc Talk about a "little death" thenightetc "More like some kinda... cursed tomb" NoodlesAtNight [[Masochist.]] thenightetc No, TO fuck a stiff. thenightetc Sorry, they just make it so easy. 😃 thenightetc It's okay, it happens to a lot of guys. Me All of this looks like something they should be doing in a place they should be. Day of all the blood. thenightetc Ha! NoodlesAtNight [[Ah! Continuity.]] thenightetc Is that. The same prop. Me His hair is oddly well kept. thenightetc Keep waiting for the mummy to light himself on fire. thenightetc Ah, piercings. That's how you know he's depraved. NoodlesAtNight [[Hah.]] Me Perfectly done eyebrows. What a rebel. thenightetc I think the smart money says he's tonight's corpse. Or, one of 'em. Me One of many. thenightetc "great atmosphere, run by a vampire" thenightetc That's a great marketing strategy. NoodlesAtNight [[Not suspicious in the slightest.]] NoodlesAtNight [[Or an incinerator.]] thenightetc Guess they're gonna meet all those people whose cars were outside. NoodlesAtNight [[There, you see.]] thenightetc It's funny because the opposite is going to happen! Me I don't know if the Vosnian night life was classier than this or if it was just the lack of human flesh being flaunted about. thenightetc "Finish you off, if you know what I mean" "What I mean is I'm gonna kill you!" thenightetc (Imagine that in Stan's voice, btw) Me I'm imagining it and I won't forgive you for that. thenightetc I'm okay with that. NoodlesAtNight [[He's surprised the picture doesn't have piercings.]] thenightetc This funeral's about to get LIT. Me If this movie had a texture, it would be greasy. NoodlesAtNight [[If he could figuratively squint any more, his visor would begin to shrink.]] thenightetc "How DO you keep a straight face?" NoodlesAtNight [][][]The Lord's Shopping Network?[][][] NoodlesAtNight [[Seems like a limited demographic.]] Me They sell Lord and Lord accessories. thenightetc This is just an amazing pitch. NoodlesAtNight *Soft huffing.* thenightetc I can't believe I got to watch this show as a kid. Wow. Me This is a conga line of things. NoodlesAtNight [[Every dancer in it has three left feet.]] Me And it's headed for a sinkhole. ...That's also on fire. thenightetc Coming on a little strong there. thenightetc There will be cake, and then you will be baked. Me There's that conga line! NoodlesAtNight [[His knowledge of Earth food is limited, but he thinks the most appropriate version here is "toast".]] NoodlesAtNight [[Oh no. Not fornication. How terrible.]] thenightetc Ah. And here I thought he was just a regular old con artist. Me I want none of these characters to make it out with their heads intact. NoodlesAtNight [[That should be easy. Their heads aren't intact /now/.]] Me Valid point. thenightetc Hahahah thenightetc Man, how many bodies do they have in that thing It must be like a clown car in there thenightetc How long would it have taken to close it, really. thenightetc ...What. thenightetc Did he not check it beforehand? Me No time for that! NoodlesAtNight [[Hah.]] Me How clever. thenightetc You gotta say it directly to the camera. And wink. Me Well, he got the bad part right. thenightetc "oh hi" thenightetc Wow, the Crypt Keeper sure has some weird fetishes. Exploding vampire nurses and such. Me He strikes me as someone who has every fetish. Me ...You know, I think I like the Crypt Keeper. thenightetc Heh. NoodlesAtNight [[Into exploding vampire nurses, are you?]] Me No, I just admire shamelessness. NoodlesAtNight [[That is fair.]] [[A fantastic song choice.]] Me Oh Pit, yes. NoodlesAtNight *Waving a feeler back and forth* Me Well, that scene just redeemed the entire movie. NoodlesAtNight [[...If it melts a hole through the vampires, how would it not melt a heart into four pieces? Or a slurry.]] Me Your sensible questions are hurting this movie's feelings. NoodlesAtNight [[This movie has no feelings. It would not subject us to it if it did.]] Me Heh. Overload. thenightetc Teehee. The pieces spontaneously rejoin if they're close together, anyway. NoodlesAtNight [[This entire film was a setup for that pun and you will not convince him otherwise.]] Me I believe it. thenightetc Ah. Me And in the interest of going out on our usual light note... NoodlesAtNight [[If she comes from the beach, would this make her the Sand Witch?]] Me Nicely done. thenightetc Heh. NoodlesAtNight [[He doesn't know what came over him. The late hour, perhaps.]] Me And there we have it! It was a glorious moment. NoodlesAtNight [[Thank you for tonight's entertainment, dear Doctor. He will take his leave. His best wishes for Impact, Breakdown, and the menagerie.]] thenightetc Thanks for the stream! Lots of fun, as always. : ) Me And right back to you and yours. My pleasure! Thank you all for coming! thenightetc Goodnight! Me Good night!