#plus all the pictures of him with like Short Short hair. not even medium. what did you do to him. youve butchered him. you butchered my man

[g0dr0t]

trying to find arthur art is hell cause its like a minefield of xreader fic in there

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

Also don't think anyone has said this (thats a joke) but like, art styles aside:

The animation, expressions, movement, everything of ATSV is IMPECCABLE.

Like insanely, ridiculously, almost mind bogglingly good.

[This is a MEDIUM length post]

The main strength is the Emotion -

In terms of animation, the range of emotions Miguel is capable of expressing is like... crazy good. Gwen's emotions ARE UNSPEAKABLY IMPRESSIVE.

LIKE...ANIMATING HER FUCKING BREATHING???? AND BLINKS!! AS AN EMOTIONAL CUE. HELLO???!!

And the movie hinges on this - almost every scene has an emotional cue that HAS to hit. Whether is Jess's looks of hesitation or Peter B.'s looks of horror.

And this may seem like the most ridiculous comparison ever made but like...

The Bee Movie and Across the Spider-Verse came out FIFTEEN YEARS APART.

THE BEE MOVIE...THIS MONSTRASITY that has plagued humankind - was made less than two decades from THIS:

The fact that we progressed that far as a society (pun intended) in that short of a time will never not baffle me.

I genuinely cannot name any other animated movie that:

Has multiple styles throughout the duration

Can seamlessly change styles without the viewer immediately noticing (like Gwen returning to her universe)

Show two or more animation styles on screen at the same time (and no, Roger Rabbit and Space Jam don't count - that's half live action lol)

Just off the top of my head - ATSV shows up to three styles in one scene: I'm mainly thinking of the scene that shows Hobie (customized - style 1), Peter B. (standard - style 2), and Miguel (a light stylized - style 3).

It can be brought to four if you want to count Miles/Gwen, though their style isn't visible.

I can think of a couple scenes that genuinely blew me away in terms of animation -

One being Rio's 'What-EVER?!' because of the little stance correction and head bob she does, because it's such a natural thing to do. And it adds so much to an already perfect line.

It's something someone would genuinely do IRL without even noticing.

Another I LOVE is Pavitr and Hobie roughhousing.

Like, I can't yell about these five seconds of animation more.

It's SO fluid it looks like Motion-Capture and I left the theatre googling is any Mo-Cap was used in the movie (and from what I can tell - no, it's all original animation).

The way Pavitr falls to the side and bumps them - This not only being a natural reaction to Hobie and his weight, but it also LOOKS natural. So much so you can see it affect Hobie's model too. The movement has kinetic energy on both models -

Which is AMAZING CONSIDERING THEY'RE ANIMATED ON LIKE FOUR DIFFERENT TIMES.

In this shot alone, there's the guitar, vest, AND Hobie, all of which have their own animation rules. Plus the outline on his guitar AND him. And then there PAVI too, who's running at a higher frame rate, touching and interacting with Hobie.

So much so that Hobie's model nearly wraps himself around Pavi. Pavi's hair is moving, Hobie's guitar is moving, there's movement in the background - and it looks GREAT.

PLUS THE CAMERA IS MOVING AND GOSTLING. IT'S NOT A STATIC SHOT. The models and camera are moving AS IF THEY'RE REAL when they're not.

That's - My..I CAN EVEN COMPUTE THAT.

But by far, I think the range of expression used on Miguel is like... Chef's kiss.

(of course I was gonna trick you into reading another post about Miguel. Uh-huh that's what's about to happen)

Like... are you kidding me?

NAH DEADASS ARE YOU KIDDING ME?????

The whole later half of the movie hinges on Miguel looking buckwild crazy insane and they NAIL that. And like-

Oh my god what the actual fuck

?????????????????????????? I........ I have nothing to add. After that picture......Nah... LMAOOO

(left: actual photo of Moche watching this happen)

But Anyway chile, This movie is like.. genuinely a modern marvel.

If Marvel gave Tim Gunn 4 billion dollars and five years, whatever live-action rendition he would have made would not even compare to ATSV on any conceivable level - that's how good it is so jot that down.

And like...don't even get me started on Hobie..his design..his representation...girl I will start crying in this Arby's do not play with me

I just felt that needed to be said.

you get what I'm saying yall know what I mean iight coo

Here's a picture of Hobie to cleanse your palette.

Bye.

[yanderehsr]

For the HSR OC request, I chose Puji.

Age: 30

Looks: Puji is a hybrid human and a hedgehog. She has black ears on her head and a small tail. She is short which gives her "cute" looks. Puji has spiky black eyes and medium hair. She wears a white blouse black overalls, garden shoes with the drawing flowers, and a pair of small silver piercings on her ears. (The picked picture does not show it, since it didn't had special ears for hedgehogs).

Background: Puji was born on the planet Downhill. The reason the planet is called like that is because the hedge-people live in the dark underground. Puji has two sisters, Morana (who is the eldest one), and older twin sister Khalida whom she is always close.  

On this planet,  at the age of sixteen every civilian is required to get power. They also get the path depending on their power. For example, Puji got healing power and was chosen by Yaoshi. Unlike in Xianzhou (whom they also had war with), in Downhill, the civilians worships Abundance, since they also believe that eternal life is a "bliss."

The planet also prohibited their civilians from living on the planet, due to "safety." The other characters from another plant also cannot enter the planet, due to their government's lack of trust. Nevertheless, Puji always has a dream to travel around the universe.

Puji's healing power is viewed as important, especiallyat her planet. Once she heals someone or something,  is not only returns to life but raises the life. Even the plants, fruits, and vegetables, that were out of season were healed by her. She also can create flowers from her hand and uses them to heal other characters.

Puji was abused by her parents and was constantly forced to train her powers. The hedge-people who got their power must train a lot and fight or else they lose their power, as well as their eternal life. One day Puji gets into a fights with her dad and kills him in able to protect herself from his attacks. Her mom forced Puji to bring him back to life, but Puji refused.

As her mom kills her, she suddenly dies. Puji believes it's all her fault and escapes from the planet,  by using space ship. However, it was Yaoshi who killed her parents, since they abused her powers and they were bad at worshiping her. Unfortunately,  Puji crashes into Herta's space station. When she wakes up she meets Himeko and agrees to join Astral Express. Puji is not only a trailblazer but also a doctor.

Personality: Puji is a shy, awkward, quiet.  introvert, and anxious bean. She was also popular during high school, due to her "cute" looks. However, Puji never liked that her classmates liked her just for her looks. She always wanted them to like her for who she was. Even though Puji does need to be more confident, she is a smart character and always thinks twice before jumping to the action. Puji also despises crowds.

Cannon: Puji has a crush on Himeko. She loves how genuinely kind and gentle Himeko is. Puji is also intolerant to alcohol and when she is drunk she becomes clingy. Puji is afraid of foxes since they hunt hedgehogs. (Fun fact: foxes eat hedgehogs).

For the prompt can you please choose any fem yandere(s) who is jealous of Himeko, because Puji likes her instead of them. Plus they believe that Himeko does not care about Puji's safety. How would they kidnap her, what kind of yandere they would be, what kind of love language they would show to Puji, and how would they react if Puji wanted to be with Astral Express? You can choose multiple fem characters if you are okay with that. Sorry for the long oc's bio.

The kind of shoes Puji wears.

Alright, Hope you'll enjoy😁

Trigger Warning: Yandere, Obsessive behaviour, Possessive behaviour, Kidnapping, Murder

Topaz: She meets Puji when she tries to get back the money that Belebog owes the IPC, she takes one look at her animal features and immidiatly falls in love, it isn't obsessive yet but it wont take long.

Topaz is greedy, she hates that Puji is part of the Astral Express, she has offered Puji a position as her assistant but was turned down, and why was she turned down, cus apparently Puji has a crush on the navigator of the express.

Topaz can't bear being away from Puji for too long, much less when she knows that Puji has a crush on Himeko, she wants to tear the navigator to pieces, but she calms herself down, she is so close to put Puji into debt, and when she does she will take her away, she'll be Topaz property until she can pay off that debt, and Topaz will make sure that never happens.

"All you have to do is pay back what you owe, if you can't then I'm afraid you'll never see Himeko ever again, don't worry, I'll keep you close for a long long time"

Herta: she saw Puji through the cameras of her station before Himeko even met her... and she didn't care one bit about her, why would she, Herta sees herself above most people, she didn't care about Puji until Puji ran into one of her dolls, Herta thought that maybe she should strike up a conversation, she was a bit curious how she arrived here.

Herta introduces herself, she feels interested in Puji, she gives off a strange aura, she almost never finds herself interested in anyone so she asks Puji multiple questions about herself, it doesn't matter to her that the questions may be a bit personal, she wants to know.

Herta has never felt as jealous as when Puji and Himeko meet, but she reasures herself that Puji will stay here, no one would refuse an offer from her of all people, she wants Puji to live on this station, but when Puji chooses to go with Himeko instead, well she grabs Puji when she is alone and decides to kidnap her, what Herta wants she'll get, no matter what or who it is.

"You aren't leaving me, I've decided that I want to keep you so that's what I'll do"

[shadow-otousan]

Deciphering the years in which Shadowsan grew up in

 Alternative title: Debunking the supposed fact that Shadowsan is 40+ (I’m looking at you, cs wiki)

Since Shadowsan’s flashback in s02e03, this has been on my mind. After some intense image searching, I can finally share the fruits of my research. 

Let’s cut to the chase. 

This is Shadowsan as a child, then known as Suhara. (Also pictured are most likely his playmates.) The style of clothing they wear, which you can see mostly on the other kids, were fashionable as everyday wear for children during the 60s (and possibly earlier during the late 50s). This nostalgic blog in Japanese in which the author talks about their childhood and details the timeline of the decade, also describes the fashion worn by himself and his peers.

The caption (fortunately in English) as follows:

Children of everyday wear of 1965 is this is it !!

The boy on the far right and the two boys on the far left are wearing the style most similar to what we see in the flashback--sweaters worn over their shirts, and shorts that barely stop at the thighs or, if longer, above the knees. We can safely say that Shadowsan spent his childhood at least somewhere in the mid-60s.

Now on to the second decade and this time, we’ll be looking at Shadowsan and his brother. But first, we’ll be focusing on the most conspicuous example for what was considered the style of that decade.

This is Hideo as a young adult. Now the decade in which this took place was easier to figure. It might help that I had a 70s phase in college lol. The type of glasses he wore originated in the late 60s as a reaction to the unattractive and sometimes even downright butt-ugly spectacles of the past decades (except cat eye glasses but even that was a mixed bag). However, this style of eyewear really peaked in popularity during the 70s and it endured somewhat into the 80s.

Glasses became seen as fashionable with their large, thick, and colorful frames as seen in these ads. Tinted lenses, if we’re talking about sunglasses. Now what only stumps me is that I cannot find the exact example for Hideo’s glasses, as I see only one bridge on his frames instead of the more common two (those are the type of glasses Shadowsan buys for himself during the Fashionista Caper showing us that fashion is cyclical, but I digress). Regardless, the shapes are there.

As for his hair, you can simply find it by typing “70年代 アイドル 男性” in google image search. But for the sake of one example:

The only slight difference is that apparently, most of them parted their hair to the right instead of slightly to the left like Hideo does (and Masashi Sada as you can see above. Bonus points for being the few famous people in Japan who wears glasses so now I’m given the theory that the character designers lowkey based Hideo off of him. Highly unlikely, but it’s a nice thought. While we’re here, check out one of his songs like this one). His hairstyle also lasted until the 80s (because any start of the decade will always have holdovers from the previous one) until perms and hairspray made them even crazier. Hideo’s hairstyle can be describe as ‘feathered.’ Hideo’s clothes lack the then ubiquitous bell-bottom pants and wide lapels of the 70s though I’m chalking that up to even Hideo thinking those were silly (bell-bottoms could actually sweep up the dirt if you don’t wear platform shoes..I also tripped on them twice while walking ;w;).

Next, Shadowsan--este, Suhara as a teen.

Because he’s a rebel, it’s a given that his style does NOT reflect the popular fashion of his youth unless you’re in a gang (or trying to look like you’re a part of one). They seem to have one thing in common though: a buzzcut.

This was a photo of what seems to be gang members, taken by Katsumi Watanabe in 1972. The man on the middle right is the closest we have to Suhara’s style, befitting a misfit of Japanese society. On the contrary to medium-length feathered hair and colorful clothes, such rebels would go out of their way to stick out from the norm. Worth noting that the bosozoku fashion--in which elements of American choppers and 50s greasers are combined with Japanese elements (i.e. gakuran--high school uniform for males, hachimaki, sarashi, tokkou-fuku--”special fighting jacket”, etc.)--did not become quite popular until the 80s, so what Suhara wears is more or less a prototype of what will become the stereotypical look of Japanese delinquents (although those styles have actually coexisted too).

Now with all that out of the way. We can estimate as to how old they really are.

If Shadowsan was a 60s kid, that would place his birth years somewhere during the end of the 50s or the very beginning of the 60s, making him 50 plus or early 60s at the time of the show’s setting (2019).

Hideo, meanwhile, I’m just gonna take a wild guess and say he’s 5 to 7 years older (or even 10 considering how much older he looks compared to his brother in the current show), which would place his birth years squarely in the 50s, beggining, mid, or late. In the show’s setting, that would make him either 60 plus or pushing 70 years old. If 10, mid 70s or plus.

Until a concise number is given to us by the CS crew, I will strictly hold on to these conclusions as their more or less true ages. Of course, everyone is free to disagree because, after all, these are only theories and if they were to be debunked in the future, I won’t be surprised. Just a little heartbroken lol Because I’m not a historian of any sort nor am I Japanese, feel free to add on this or correct me on some mistakes I might have made.

And that concludes this post. Class dismissed ;P

(Last minute addendum: I would also like to point out that though it seems that most VILE operatives recruited are young as some argue that any VILE operative student had to be 20, nowhere in the show does it require only a certain group of young people can join. It might be entirely possible that as long as one is an adult (20 or older), one can join VILE. And Shadowsan, from the looks of it, seems to be in his late 30s or early 40s when he was a student going by his facial features. He just used to look really young bc Asian aging is a paradox. You can be older than you look, vice versa, and suddenly look like your age. But hey, like I said, only theories)

Ok, now I’m done~

[thehouseofgrey]

what do you think about magnus in neons??? *eyes emoji*

Funny you should mention 👀

As a teenager I wasn’t allowed to be like,,, emo. Like our parents just wouldn’t let us wear all black. Probably an attempt to keep our mental health from tanking but 🙃🙃🙃. Point being, since I couldn’t wear black, I went the opposite direction. I wore exclusively neons from ages 11-15. It got me bullied a lot. But I don’t care cuz I loved it then and I intend to bring it back into my wardrobe now at first opportunity. All that said,,,

MAGNUS IN NEONS IS SO FUCKING GALAXY BRAIN YOU DONT EVEN UNDERSTAND

Okay okay organizing thoughts. The first thing y’all should know is that we’ve already seen Magnus in a neon. Electric blue is a neon. This is electric blue for reference:

[ Image ID: just the color electric blue]

I’ll put a note here that pure red is also technically a neon but it’s a neon I hate with a burning passion so we will not be acknowledging her further. Magnus rocks red so really it’s rather unfortunate that neon red sucks so fucking much

But there is, I would argue, a much better much sexier sister color to red that looks lovely in neon and would look so good on Magnus I’m getting lightheaded just thinking about it. NEON PINK! Neon pink, I would argue, is the god of all neons. Even if you hate neon green, blue, orange, yellow, purple... I’ve never met someone who hates neon pink. (If you do, no you don’t ❤️ /j) Magnus in pink lipstick or eyeshadow

[Image ID One: a close up of shiny neon pink lipstick on tan white skin

Image ID Two: a close up of a matte neon pink eyeshadow with black eyeliner and false lashes on a heavily airbrushed white woman

End ID]

Like the pink eye shadow with a black dress, pink fishnets AND a pink leather jacket. God sign me the fuck up. Magnus in a bright pink pencil skirt. Good shit. Chefs kiss. Mwah. Pink heels pink heels pink heels. Especially like a pump. Or like a chunky heeled boot. God I’m getting carried away. Okay okay okay.

Right.

Let’s also talk about a underrated babe: neon purple

[Image ID Left: a very skinny white woman with a handful of small tattoos on her arms. She’s wearing a short tight dress that’s purple with blue and green glitter.

Image ID Right: a mannequin in a knee length, holographic purple A line skirt.

End ID]

We never got to see Magnus in purple of any kind which feels like a crime. But neon purple would present such an opportunity for him to play with glitter and shimmery silvers. Neon purple was made for holo silver. You can’t change my mind. I’m right. And neon purple and holo silver were made for Magnus Bane.

Right okay my next points require addressing a bit of an elephant in the room. I love hsj with my whole chest and he makes a magnificent Magnus. But, Magnus would be dark skinned. He’s Indonesian. And there are just some colors, especially bright colors like neons, which look better on darker skin. None of this is up for debate.

That said, Magnus would also rock the fuck out of neon yellow orange or green. Like there’s no color this man couldn’t own. Dark skinned people are out here in real life inventing color all the time. Magnus has had hundreds of years and all the money to perfect this. And neons lend themselves so well to mixing colors and patterns in ways that regular colors, I’m sorry to say, just don’t.

[Image ID: a Japanese teen girl standing in a brightly lit parking lot. She has her hair in two braids which she’s holding, one in each hand. She’s wearing a neon pink baret and a neon pink button up shirt with big red, yellow, green, purple and black flowers. it’s tucked into a bright yellow and white checkered skirt held with a medium sized black and gold belt. She also has on pink socks and pink platform sandals. End ID]

This is what I mean by pattern and color mixing by the way. (And Magnus in a miniskirt? Inspired. Effervescent.) Fashion, makeup, jewelry, and generally self decoration is one of the most fundamental ways humans have always expressed themselves. Magnus knows himself. Knows what fits him. Knows his colors and patterns. I’m sure he could come up with combinations I can’t even dream of. And neons provide an excellent medium for it.

Magnus could inspire even more gender envy in neons tbh. He’s not androgynous in the way of like man plus woman or woman plus man. He’s androgynous in the way of like where you’d never doubt what gender he is even though he’s made gender his bitch, y’know? He’s fully feminine, fully masculine, and fully androgynous all at the same time. Idk what this paragraph is for actually now that I’m at the end of it.

Basically, Magnus is a bit of a peacock. He’s hot, he knows it, he flaunts it. The neon aesthetic just suits the mould of what we already know him to be. Neons is the next evolution of the glitter and matte orange or blue eyeliner.

Don’t let me get started on this shit or we’ll be here all day

[Image ID One: a close up of black and white checkered lipstick. The mouth is hung slightly open so you can see the front teeth.

Image ID Two: a picture of acrylic nails. Some of the nails are painted black with rainbow roses. Some are black with abstract rainbow ribbons. Some are painted rainbow tie dye with black drip lines coming down from the cuticle. The rest are clear acrylic with rainbow splatter lines.

End ID]

Neon Magnus Supremacy.

That is all.

[palmett-hoes]

Do you have any fan casts or strong takes/feelings on the foxes’ appearances? Fandom tends to use the same Pinterest models, which feels wrong to me.

i do in fact! i've actually been meaning to make a post about how i choose to write all of the foxes' ethnicities anyway

but yes i absolutely agree that the typical pinterest model types u generally see on edits is not how i see any of them. nor is reece king or froy gutierrez or lucky blue smith one of my FCs for anyone

for a lot of them i don't necessarily have a single specific FC so much as i have like,, a general impression of features that i will see on various different people, who all may look wildly different from each other or who may not even look how i see the character as a whole but do have a specific feature i associate with them. mostly it boils down to the Energy i get tbh and that's just a Feeling i cant even explain

fun fact im a tiny bit face blind so that might account for some of why i'm so all-over about this

may as well go chronologically. some of them i definitely have more thoughts on than others

1. Dan

ethnicity: Afro Native (Sioux)

features: medium dark skin. buzzcut, killer fade. she often styles it in waves. she's very butch, wears a lot of basketball and cargo shorts, tank tops and flannels and jerseys, hiking boots. skinny but muscular, with a very rectangular body shape. defined jaw. probably like 5'4 or 5'5

FC/Energy: sometimes i get some dan energy out of janelle monae but more butch. lotta dan energy out of samira wiley. lashana lynch

2. Kevin

ethnicity: a lot of things tbd, but he's pretty multi-ethnic. i like the idea of kayleigh being half- or a quarter-japanese in addition to irish because it gives her more of a reason to go to japan for her undergrad. wymack is from d.c. which is a majority black city for its actual residents, but i also like the idea of him being Pasifika/Hawaiian. HOWEVER - and this is pretty important to my read of kevin's character - he's white passing, and has been mostly treated as a white guy who tans his whole life, like occasionally asked if he's italian maybe. learning that his father was a Distinctly Not White Man was a big shock to him.

kristin kreuk, lindsay price, phoebe cates, and marie digby are all half-asian actresses i base kayleigh on

i suppose i base his story partially on broadway actress carol channing, who revealed publically that she was a quarter black when she was like 80 years old. though maybe wentworth miller, a biracial actor who knows his father is black but also doesn't know him, is more accurate to kevin's story. then keanu reeves is a white passing actor with asian ancestry

also none of these people look anything like how i picture kevin lol. kevin is just like,, a guy. handsome ig. but kind of in a CW character kind of way

actually

kevin looks exactly like young jason momoa

3. Andrew

ethnicity: kayin/karen from myanmar

features: fat and muscular, very wide and heavy. this blog is basically all andrew body type refs. medium-olive skin, has a bit of a greyish tinge that makes him look a bit eerie or unhealthy. deep set, droopy eyes; looks so tired. flat face with a low-bridged nose. crooked teeth, especially his canines. natural hair black-ish but he bleaches it light blond. has the beginnings of martial artist punching callouses in his knuckles

FC/Energy: holy shit the characters i feel have Andrew Energy are all over the place. pedro pascal. babe ruth (yes fr). oddjob (harold sakata) from goldfinger. the jinn (mousa kraish) from american gods. gaear grimsrud (peter stormare) from fargo. takeshi kovacs (joel kinnaman) from altered carbon. and i wanna be clear, it's these characters specifically, and generally NOT the actors outside of that specific role. except pedro ❤️

4. Matt

ethnicity: cuban

appearance: matt has more of an Energy than specific features to me rn. that energy is Warm. he has that Warm bro jock dude energy. kind of a marvel hero build, hunky and muscular. very rectangular face. has this haircut:

5. Aaron

i get to cut myself some slack and not go AS in depth about aaron because he and andrew are identical twins

ethnicity: kayin/karen from myanmar

appearance: similar build to andrew, less confident and casual posture and body language. less apathetically murderous and more emotive expressions. better teeth bc his mom took him to the dentist. yes also bleaches his hair

celebrities: probably a lot like the difference between the characters and the actors. andrew is the characters and aaron is how the actors actually look. idk ive never looked at someone and thought 'hey! looks like aaron!'

6. Seth

ethnicity: have been going with half-vietnamese. considering looking into various south asian possibilities like pakistani

appearance: string bean build. that's all i have to offer

7. Allison

ethnicity: allison's very up in the air for me. she and seth are the two foxes i feel fine with being white, but im committing to having no white foxes sooo. i would say i generally see her as either half-middle eastern or chinese

appearance: plus sized and hourglass shaped. heart shaped face. taller, like 5'8 or 5'9. she has a pretty fraught history with her appearance and her parents payed for/pressured her into getting a nose job to have a 'prettier' nose. she also bleaches her hair blonde. she gets it done at a salon tho the twinyards do it in their bathroom

FC/Energy: elle king and nadia aboulhosn are my main inspos for her, esp body type but nadia esp in Vibes

8. Nicky

ethnicity: multi-ethnic. his mother is southern mexican Indigenous, possibly oaxacan. his father is mixed white/kayin

appearance: definitely takes after his mother while his father is white passing. dark brown skin, warm undertones. slightly stocky build. tall ovular head and thin aquiline nose. he's kind of just,, the opposite of the twins ig, so like their facial features look very different, which is a big part of why people don't make the connection between him and the twins alongside the difference in their skin tones, heights, and builds. nicky's build and features are very vertically-oriented, with a tall head, narrow-set eyes, thin nose with a high bridge, etc. the twins are horizontally-orienged, with broad, flat faces, wide-set eyes, wide noses with a low bridge, etc.

FC/Energy: yalitza aparicio, not a guy but one of the few Mexican Indigenous stars in the film industry and i really like her features for nicky. she's oaxacan

9. Renee

ethnicity: Black. african american

appearance: plus sized, circular/apple body shape. round face. dark skin. microlocs to a bit past her chin, bleached white and dyed at the ends. she and allison go to the salon together. femme but plain style, a lot of blouses and long skirts, practical shoes. knuckle callouses. about 5'6

FC/Energy: dominique fishback. tracie thoms, esp in RENT. gabourey sidibe. nicole byer, but not in Energy. brandy, for some reason, probably bc i think she has very serene Energy and is a little bit otherworldly. like if brandy played arwen or galadriel from lotr it would make perfect sense to me, and that's the Renee Energy™️

10. Neil

ethnicity: mixed. Black/Jewish on both sides. his father is polish ashkenazi and afro-brazilian. his mother is Black British and algerian jewish

appearance: very... sharp. like sharp all over. does that make sense? sharp features, sharp face shape, sharp angles to his body. he's got what i vaguely think of as a 'basketball build' not meaning tall but meaning very rangy and angular and lean. all limbs. seth has a similar build. lighter brown skin. he has waardenburg syndrome which is actually where he gets he gets his eye color, and his eyes are very large and widely spaced as well. freckles freckles freckles. freckles everywhere. 4a hair but at least during canon it's not very healthy and thus the curls aren't well-defined. he grows it out long enough to tie back and starts taking better care of it in post-canon. wonky, slightly crooked teeth, with a gap between the fronts

FC/Energy: now neil i actually have a ton for. mostly models which im a lil ashamed of bc i do try to draw more from athletes. alton mason is a main body type ref. mugsy bogues is good to see what i mean about the basketball build without the height. here're the boys: cykeem white, luka sabbat, désiré mia, Leo Hoyte-Egan, dylan hasselbaink, this beautiful stock photo model i've never been able to track down

i think about him every. goddamn. day.

in terms of like,, real ppl and not models: corbin bleu, especially during Jump In. figure skater elladj balde. rayan "ray ray" lopez from mindless behavior. A$AP Rocky a lil bit, maybe i just like his hairstyle idk

two more models i think are important: carissa pinkston and ralph souffrant

[thatsarcasticgemini]

Poltergeist boyfriend

Bill Denbrough x Stanley Uris

When his parents told him that they were moving, Bill expected a new house or a futuristic apartment, but instead he got an old and rusty house. So there he was, big box full of books in hands, looking the house up and down with a sour look in his usually bright eyes. He looked at the window of the left upstairs bedroom, where he saw a figure looking at him. He looked around to find hid mom, but the figure was gone when he looked back. Stupid old house, stupid long road, stupid heavy box. Georgie, on the other hand was more than happy to go inside, running around the porch and urging everyone to move faster. Bill went inside and asked his mom to see his bedroom. She pointed the medium one upstairs, the same room where he saw that figure.

The next day he went to his new highschool. There, he met Eddie, Richie, Ben and Bev. He hit it off with Bev, but there was never gonna be anything between them, as Bev was dating Ben and Bill was very gay. The school was ok: the teachers were kind, the halls were clean and bullying was taken very seriously. Plus it was only five minutes away from home, which meant that Bill could get there in time to say bye to his parents before they left for work. For lunch he had mashed potatoes with chiken, his favourite. While he was eating, he heard a loud thud coming from his bedroom. Licking his fingers of grease, he went upstairs, ready to yell at Georgie for going in his bedroom. But the bedroom was empty. The only thing out of place was the picture of him and Mike, his old friend for the other town. When he picked it up he could swear he saw the same figure behind him in the glass. Placing the picture back, he ran downstairs to finish his meal. Little did he know, that would be the first of many encounters with the supernatural being.

Things started getting weirder and weirder over the next a few weeks. Wednesdays were Alphabet Soup days for the Denbroughs, but they got strange for Bill. Everytime he'd pick a spoon of letters, they would always spell things like: youre cute, i like u, i love u. He'd come home to see drawings of him and a boy on his desk. He blamed Georgie at first, but the young boy denied everything. All the drawings showed Bill either hugging or kissing this curly haired boy. He even saw this boy in his dreams, either looking out the window or playing the piano in the living room. Whenever Bill would open his english notebook he'd be met by short love poems, always signed S.U. But the worse happened when he brought people over.

The first time someone came over, it was boy named Jake, who was Bill's project partner. He only stayed in Bill's bedroom for five minutes, while Bill was making tea, when he cursed loudly and ran out of the house calling Bill nuts. Bill chased after him, confused and hurt, but looking to his bedroom window from the front yard, he saw the curly haired boy dissapear behind the curtains. This happened to everyone who came over to Bill's. It even happened to Eddie. The boy left after 30 minutes, saying someone was watching him and throwing stuff at his head. Bill was desperate, to the point where he begged Beverly to help him. Bev was a witch, so she was more than happy to help him figure the problem out. Her best guess was that a spirit that was bound to the house had taken a liking in Bill and was trying to chase potential partners away.

The plan was for Bill to hold hands with Bev, pretend to be dating so the spirit would give her its worst. That was exactly what happened, but Bev stood her ground. She ignored the yelling in her ear, the things thrown at her and the very scray ghost following her. At some point, Bill saw the ghost and warned Beverly that it was a diffrent one. The usual ghost was a boy with light curly hair and kind brown eyes. Beverly said that this scary ghost was a shape the boy was taking to scare her away. After a couple hours, Bev pulled Bill into the living room.

"Bill, I have to leave. Here you go. Inside this box there’s a ouija board. You have to paly alone, so that the poltergeist will have to join you. I also wrote you instructions on a paper I taped on the back of the box. This being really really likes you, so there’s nothing to worry about. I’m just worried I might anger it by staying longer. You’ll be fine.” and with that she left. Bill took the board and the planchette to his bedroom. Sitting down he read the mantra Bev gave him outloud and looked around.

“I’m alone, supernatural being, so you have to join me. Please join me.” With that, Bill lifted his head to see the curtains move. He was a little freaked out, but he calmed himself down. The scary ghost emerged form the other side of the room, looking around with wild eyes. It passed Bill by, yelling and ran downstairs. Bill was thanking God that neither Bev, nor his parents or Georgie were home to see the scene unfold. The door behind him opened again and Bill saw the boy coming in the room and sitting on the floor, oposite of where he sat. The supernatural being was in its regular form, probably calming down after seeing Bev was gone. It put its hand on the planchette moving it around to spell “Hi Bill”. 

“Hi! Can you please tell me your name?”   

“Stanley Uris. My family lived here 45 years ago.”

“But you’re supposed to be alive today.”

“I am, but I was killed in an accident at school. Two kids locked me in the boiler room as a prank. A teacher found me dead 12 days later. I was burried in the back yard of this house.”

“Why do you harass my friends? Why do you give me poems and drawing?”

“Cause I like you and I dunno how to express it. I chase people away cause I’m afraid you’ll like them more cause they’re alive. Was that girl your girlfriend?”

“She is a friend, I’m gay. I did that to make you respond.”

“I would’ve responded either way. You have nice eyes. And I like your drawings. You’re cute when you are focused.”

“You’re cute now. Is there any way I can make you be alive, sort of. Like in Beetlejuice?”

“I am dead. What’s Beetlejuice?”

“A musical about a demon. If someone said his name three times, he could be touched and seen, it was almost like he was real again.”

“I am not a demon, but I get it. You can make me real, sort of real. By allowing me to come into your world at will. You need black salt and moon water. Your witch friend has them for sure. You also need a picture of me. You can find one in the attic. You can do it tomorrow. I’ll guide you.” and with that, Stan moved the planchette to goodbye and went back to the window, where he vanished. Bill instantly called Bev and asked her for black salt and moonwater. Bev was happy to help again.

     The next day, right after Georgie left to meet up with his friends, Bill dashed to the attic and looked in all the furniture until he found a picture of Stan. It was a picture of him playing the piano. Bill took it, ran to his room to get the board, took the salt and water from his backpack and ran to his bedroom. Stanley responded in less than a second.

“You got everything?”

“Yes, but you need to tell me what to do with them.”

“You need to go to the backyard and take 27 small steps from the back door forward. You’ll be somewhat above my body. You need to sprinkle salt around yourself in a circle, emerge the photo in moonwater and put it in front of your feet. Put some more salt on the picture and say this: I, Bill Denbrough, allow Stanley Uris to come back into this world at free will. I will be the only one to see him. He’ll step in the land of the living and come out of it whenever he wants. That should do it. I’ll be watching you.”

“Will I be able to touch you that way?”

“Yes.”

“Will you be able to leave the house?”

“Yes. I’ll also be able to return to land of the dead if I’ll feel like it.”

“Cool. Ok. Let’s do it.” And with that Bill went in the backyard and did exactly as Stanley had instructed him. At first it seemed like nothing happened, so Bill decided to go back inside. Once inside, he felt a hand on his shoulder while going up the stairs. Turning around he came face to face with Stanley.

“Hi, Bill! Wow you have soft skin. I have soft skin. Your clothes look nice. Mine are kinda old. Your hair is so soft as well. Mine is curlier then yours I don’t really like it that much. What do you think? Is my hair that bad?” Stanley started rambling. Bill just looked at him with wide eyes. He was real. Bill took a step forward, throwing himself in Stanley’s arms. Stanley didn’t respond at first, but hugged back in the end. It was going to be one hell of a ride, teaching Stanley how to be human again, how would his parent’s react, showing Stanley the modern world, but he was ready. After all, Bill would do anything for love.

Hello, Erica here! I just wanted to thank @bi-teen-angst for the headcannons posted their account. Sorry for the bad grammar and for the fact that I am 1 year late with this. I wish everyone the best.

[queenmylovely]

The Best Things Ain’t Free

Summary: Roger Taylor x fem!reader. After meeting through friends, Roger is impressed with your lifestyle and you’re impressed with his prettiness. 

Word Count: 10.9k listen... she’s long

Warnings: cussing, smut (oral sex, fingering, etc.) (18+!! marked with ***)

A/N: This idea has been on my mind for ages because I can’t look at certain pictures of Roger in a fur coat without this thot. PSA that the most fictional part of this fic is reader being rich bc your girl ain’t. Let’s all use our best imagination and enjoy the life of the wealthy for a minute. Please leave feedback in any form whether it be tags, replies, asks, or messages, because I really do love hearing from you!

Masterlist; BLM Resources, Register to Vote (U.S.)

(these are what inspired this entire thing bc look at them!!! pics edited by me)

☆☆☆

Normally, you wouldn’t be one to go to a dingy pub to watch some band play a set. If you wanted to hear good music, you’d go to a concert in a real venue, with box seats and catering. And if you wanted a drink you’d go to the Ivy, Grenadier, Star, or if you really wanted a nice time, the Ritz. But your friend, Kalaya, from your time at Oxford (she had attended on a merit-based scholarship, bless her heart), had insisted that you come.

“They’re one of the best bands I’ve ever heard!” Kalaya gushed, trying to convince you to go.

“Better than the Stones? The Supremes? Janis?” you asked, referencing all of the concerts you had taken her to in uni. “We saw Janis the one and only time she played solo in London, are you telling me this student band is going to match her?”

“I said one of the best bands I’ve ever heard. And it’s not like you’ve never been to the bar before, it’s Angel’s, I took you there after exams junior year, remember?” Kalaya prodded, hoping that since it was at least somewhat familiar, you might be more likely to go.

“Oh yeah, I remember. Someone spilt a drink on me and I stunk like cheap beer for the rest of the night,” you said, wrinkling your nose in annoyance.

“C’mon you can’t condemn a whole pub just because one drunk idiot made a mistake,” Kalaya reasoned.

“Never would’ve happened at the Ritz,” you said with a huff.

Lucky for her, Kalaya never took you as seriously as you wanted to be and she laughed, “Stop being so stuck up, it’s not flattering.”

You stuck your tongue out at her, and she just rolled her eyes.

“Please, I need you to go. I fancy the guitar player and I can’t show up alone, you know I get nervous in crowds on my own,” Kalaya reminded you with her best puppy-dog eyes.

Your face broke out in a grin, “You didn’t say you fancied someone, oh my gosh, of course I’ll go! Tell me more about this guitarist.”

_____

The one caveat you had made Kalaya agree to was new outfits for the show. You would go to a grungy student pub to support your friend, but like hell were you going to dress the same as everyone there. After a few hours traipsing around Oxford Street, you both had completely new, fabulous outfits that were sure to stun, on your dime of course.

When you had first met Kalaya, she hadn’t liked you paying for things for her, but when you insisted that it only made sense for you to do or else you would be doing everything alone, she began to accept it. Plus, you had told her, the money was doing a lot more good being spent on fancy dinners and trips to the sea than sitting in some bank account in Switzerland. Anyway, your parents owned the largest shipping company in England, or something, so it wasn’t like there wasn’t plenty to spare.

“It’ll take about an hour and ten minutes by car, so we should leave about two and a half hours before the concert so we can get there early,” you planned out two days before the concert, during dinner at your shared apartment with Kalaya.

“Car? We can just take the train, it’s practically the same amount of time,” Kalaya replied.

“And get our new outfits all dirty before the show? No way, Chay can take us. I already told him about it and he’s bringing Martie so they can go too,” you explained. Chay (short for Charlie, short for Charles) was your family’s driver and Martie was his wife. They were in their early thirties so they still appreciated new music.

“What if something happens with Brian and I want to stay? Won’t Martie and Chay want to come home?” Kalaya said sheepishly.

“When that happens, we’ll just get rooms at that Inn on the boulevard and wait until morning to bring you home,” you said with a smirk.

Kalaya got her own cheeky smile, “And what about when you inevitably sweep some unknowing pretty boy off his feet? Where will they go without you to get the rooms?”

You hummed, thinking about all the boys that might be at the concert, “They have their expense card, of course.”

_____

The afternoon before the concert, the four of you met at the drive of your parent's house, ready and dressed for the night. You’re in dark wash bell bottoms, an emerald green satin top, and black leather platform boots. Draped over one arm you had your favorite fur coat, a dark brown mink, because although it was August, it got cold late at night, especially in Oxford. Kalaya had chosen a black flowy dress that came to her mid-thigh and made her medium-brown skin richer in comparison, and black suede booties. It would’ve been boring except for the silver and gold thread embroidering it, making it look like a starry night sky. She had told you it would be perfect because Brian studied stars.

Martie and Chay were a little more understated, as was to be expected since they didn’t have to try to catch anyone’s eye. Martie was in an orange floral dress in a similar cut to Kalaya’s, but a few inches longer. The orange of the dress and the yellow and olive green flowers complimented her dark brown skin with its warm undertone. Chay was in black bell bottoms, a dark red button-down with a paisley print, and regular black boots. You told him that he was lucky his skin was still tanned from the summer holiday because his typical paper-white skin combined with the outfit would’ve made him look like a vampire. Chay laughed sarcastically and Martie changed the subject by complimenting you two girls and then turned back to Chay, noticing his large collar was a little crooked and fixing it.

Everyone, including their overnight bags just in case, got into the car and Chay immediately turned the radio up, the four of you singing along the whole way there.

_

Once you got to the bar, the four of you grabbed drinks and sat at a table near the back because it wasn’t crowded yet. The group chatted easily, laughing at each other’s jokes and stories. You were all more like family than anything because Chay’s father was the family driver before him and he and Martie had been together since they were teenagers. Since Kalaya always came to all the family vacations (that Martie and Chay also came to, as “employees;” their only duty being a designated driver), the four of you were used to hanging out and going to clubs and concerts together.

Slowly, the bar started filling up and you turned to Kalaya, “We should probably go to the front now so we can secure a spot.”

Kalaya nodded, “Are you guys coming?”

Martie and Chay looked at each other, communicating silently in that way couples do. Martie answered, “No, we’ll stay here. Don’t wanna be around a bunch of sweaty students.”

“My sentiments exactly,” you said with a roll of your eyes and Kalaya elbowed you. Then you looked at Chay with a sheepish smile, “Can I leave my coat with you?”

“Yes,” Chay huffed with his own eye roll, but he was still smiling. “Now go on, get up there.”

Kalaya and you laughed and waved, hurrying to get a good spot close to the stage. That was one positive of a small venue, being close enough to the band to do some serious damage to your hearing as well as being able to actually see the sweat dripping down their temples and chests once they really got into the music.

The crowd grew around you and you were jostled a couple of times, but once you glared at the people who did it, that seemed to stop. The energy of the crowd grew and grew in anticipation and you heard lots of chatter about how excited they were to see the band. Maybe Kalaya hadn’t oversold them.

It wasn’t long before all of the stage lights went out and a booming voice came from all around, announcing the arrival of, “Your entertainment tonight, Her Majesty, Queen!”

You laughed, appreciating the audacity of the name as someone who liked to be somewhat outrageous yourself. The lights flashed back on and you realized that the band was already onstage; they went right into the first song, drums, guitar, and bass starting strong. You listened to the music, enjoying it already, but were more focused on checking out the band, which was easy because you were only ten feet away from the stage.

The singer was a slim, elegant man with light brown skin and jet black hair. His eyes were a warm brown and when he looked out at the crowd it was as if he was connecting with every person. Round lips and large teeth caught your eye and as you watched them enunciate every syllable, you couldn’t help but think they must make a wonderful smile. He was wearing a black satin jumpsuit embroidered and embellished until it shone in the light. Cheekbones sharp enough to cut and eyeliner just the same kept him on the rock side of glam, any softer and he could’ve been considered disco. And even though the concert had only just started, he was already completely into it; the energy he gave off as he strode about the stage only adding to the crowd’s.

Next you looked at the guitarist, Brian, who Kalaya was already staring at, mouth hanging open in a way that told you she didn’t realize how obvious it was. You gently reached over and tapped her chin, bringing her out of her trance and her eyes widened as she realized what she was doing. She started swaying to the music and looked around the stage in a much more casual way.

Back to the guitarist, as Kalaya had told you he was extremely tall, with some of the longest legs you had ever seen on anyone. With velvet black pants and a flowing white blouse, he was as glam as the singer. He was even more slim than the singer, and with the mound of curls that made up his head he kinda looked like a lollipop, nothing you would ever tell Kalaya. He had pale white skin, a prominent nose, and otherwise delicate features, but your main attention was brought to his hazel eyes that looked at the crowd as if he was surveying them. Overall you were thoroughly impressed with Kalaya’s choice to fancy him.

On the opposite side of the singer was the bassist, made clear by the fact that his guitar only had four strings and a longer neck. His clothing was a little more reserved than the other two, simply a black satin suit with a white satin shirt underneath. His chestnut brown hair was long and wavy, and it framed his also pale white face well. He was pretty relaxed in his playing, like it wasn’t that hard, but watching his hands you could tell the skill it took to stay on beat through some of the most complex rhythms. A soft nose, green-grey eyes that seemed kind, full lips, and a familiar feeling endeared him to you instantly, a smile coming to your face as he smirked when the singer pressed up against him.

Lastly, you turned your attention to the drummer, and just about gasped. Yes, the other three had been beautiful, but none of them were as pretty as him. His hair was shaggy, wavy, and dirty blonde, and heaven knew you loved your blondes. His white skin was lightly tanned which just made his baby blue eyes stand out even more. He was wearing some sort of black blouse but it was completely unbuttoned, leaving his chest that was toned from drumming totally exposed. You couldn’t see much else because of his kit but what you could see, your eyes ate up. As he drummed, his lips stuck out in a pout and his hair swooshed, glinting gold as he played the cymbals.

Kalaya had only been half-joking when she talked about you finding your pretty boy and now you had, your sights completely set on this drummer. Plus you figured that if Kalaya knew Brian, you had an automatic in.

Suddenly, you were making eye contact with the drummer but instead of being surprised or flustered, you started your mission. Biting your lip in a smile, rocking your hips to the rhythm he was playing, and tilting your head to the side, you made it clear you were checking him out. That seemed to spur him on and the drums got louder as he played harder. If he was trying to impress you, it was working, but more because it was a testament to his stamina than to his skill. Besides, you could see that you had done plenty to impress him by subverting his expectations and staring him down instead of swooning as soon as he caught your eye with his.

Not that there was anything wrong with swooning, in fact Kalaya was swooning over Brian at this very second because he had smiled at her, but you liked being the one to cause the swoon. You knew you were attractive and knew other people knew it too. You were confident and knew what you wanted, an energy you liked to radiate when you were around pretty boys.  

The drummer was the one to break eye contact first, looking around the room for a minute as if trying to distract himself. Then he looked back at you and you just smiled and waved at him. By the way his eyes widened and cheeks pinkened further than they already were, you could tell he was a little flustered, and laughed, something you were sure he could see as well. He didn’t seem to be looking away this time, so you did instead, turning your attention to Kalaya to make sure she was doing alright.

“How’s it going, babe? He in love with you yet?” you half-yelled into her ear because the music was so loud.

She rolled her eyes good-naturedly, “More like I’ve just fallen further in love with him. But he has smiled and waved at me a couple times in between songs.”

“See? Don’t be all modest!” you urged.

“Well what about you? I see the eyes you’re making at that pretty boy drummer. He’s just the epitome of your type, huh?” Kalaya shot back.

You sighed happily, “He really is.”

_

About an hour later, the last encore was done and a cheap curtain had separated the band from the rest of the pub as they packed up their instruments. But apparently they would be joining the crowd later on, based on the talk of the people that had been standing around you up front. Not everyone seemed aware of this fact or maybe they just didn’t care, because the crowd thinned by half once the set was over. Quickly making a game plan, you and Kalaya decided to wait by the bar but not at the bar, in the path the band would most likely take from backstage to get a drink.

After waiting for only 10 minutes, you saw a curly head of hair bobbing through a doorway and realized they were on the move. You signaled to Kalaya with your eyes that they were appearing behind her (now out of their stage clothes), not interrupting what she was saying in an effort to remain casual. Once she had realized what you meant, she slowed her words, hoping to get interrupted. The blonde came into view and you flicked your eyes over to him just once, letting him know you knew he was there.

“Kalaya?” Brian asked, tapping her shoulder lightly.

Expertly, Kalaya turned like she was surprised, “Brian!”

They hugged quickly and she pulled back, “You all were amazing, just like last time.”

“Yes, well, I’m glad I actually have a chance to talk to you this time, instead of rushing off to deal with a flat tire on the van,” Brian smiled. Then he looked over to you and Kalaya jumped in.

“This is my friend,” she introduced you. “We went to Oxford together. She already knows all about you.”

Brian looked a little pleased at that, and Kalaya brought a hand to her mouth, realizing her faux pas.

“She means your band. She had to make a hard sell for me to come all the way back to Oxford to see the show,” you explained away what she said even though you all knew that wasn’t what she had meant.

“Well I’m glad you both made it,” Brian said with an easy smile. “Speaking of the band, I’d better introduce them all.”

Brian stepped back so he was in line with the other three and Kalaya turned so she was facing them next to you.

“This here is Freddie, our wonderful singer. Then we have John—”

“You can call me Deaky,” he interjected.

“Deaky then, our fantastic bassist. And finally our resident pretty boy himself, our drummer, Roger,” Brian finished with a bit of a smirk.

You all exchanged pleasantries and as Kalaya was drawn into a conversation with the rest of the band, Roger stepped closer to you.

“Pretty boy, huh?” You asked with a teasing smile. He nodded, about to say something in defense or make a jab at Brian, but you spoke first, “Glad I’m not the only one who thinks so.”

Roger flushed at that, a small smile coming to his face, but he changed the subject, “So you went to Oxford?”

“Yes,” you said slowly.

“Not a big fan?” he asked.

“No, I did really enjoy it here, just kind of small for my taste. I mean, over an hour to get to where anyone big’s playing and never having heard of fine dining? I suppose it was a good change of pace, or at least that’s what my parents say, but I’m glad to be back in the city,” you explained and Roger listened intently.

“So raised in London then?”

“Yes, except for the summers. Then it was Nice or Barcelona. Oh and one year New York,” you knew you were being a little overt with the flaunting of your upbringing, but you could tell that Roger was the type of person to enjoy the best things in life, and his eyes were as big as dinner plates as he listened to you, clearly impressed. “What about you?”

“Oh, I’m just from Truro, not quite as glamorous as all those,” Roger told you and while he wasn’t exactly embarrassed, you could tell he was waiting for your reaction.

“Truro’s in Cornwall, right?” you asked and Roger confirmed with a nod. “Then I’ve been there! Yeah a couple years ago Kalaya and I went on a trip to the sea and took a little detour to Truro, we loved it! Perfect for a little weekend getaway.”

Roger smiled big, your praising of his hometown charming him, “But how is Truro on the way to the sea? Wouldn’t you just go to Brighton or Southend?”

You smiled, laughing at yourself, “Well I got it in my head that I wanted to go to the very western tip of the country, and luckily Kalaya is a good enough sport to go along with my whims.”

“Do you often have these types of whims?” Roger asked and there was more cheek behind the words than in their meanings.

“Well I adore travelling,” you said, a little smirk coming to your face. Then you fixed your gaze to Roger’s eyes, “And my personal philosophy is to do whatever I want, whenever I want, with whoever I want.”

Roger swallowed, his mouth parted, and he blinked a couple times before responding, trying a laugh to cover for his reaction to your words, “A bit hedonistic, no?”

“Hmm, a bit like the pot calling the kettle black, no?” you responded quickly. Not that you actually knew that Roger was similar to you in that way, but watching how he reacted to everything you said made you sure enough to say that.

Scoffing as if that weren’t true, all he could say was, “What?--who?”

“How are the two of you getting on?” the bassist, John-- Deaky, interjected, coming to stand so the three of you made a triangle.

“Well Roger here just called me hedonistic,” you said matter-of-factly, looking at Deaky with wide eyes.

“Ha! You’re one to talk, Rog,” Deaky told him, clapping him on the shoulder and laughing.

Roger just looked at you, surprised that you would’ve brought it up to Deaky. You just stuck your tongue between your teeth and smiled victoriously; you loved to keep boys on their toes, especially ones that looked so cute when they were surprised.

Deaky turned to you, “You look really familiar, have we met before?”

“You know, I was thinking the same thing, but you had shorter hair, right?” you looked at him more closely.

He laughed and nodded, “Yeah, this is pretty new.”

“What university did you go to?” you asked.

“Chelsea college in London, I was in electrical engineering,” Deaky replied.

You exclaimed in recognition, “The scholarship dinner! You got my family’s engineering scholarship, that was like five years ago.”

“That’s right! We hung out during that tour of one of the facilities when our parents were talking endlessly,” he remembered and you laughed along with him.

“Wait, I thought the only private scholarship you got was from that family with the shipping business that are, like, filthy rich,” Roger said and you and John just looked at each other and then at Roger, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Then his eyes went wide, “That’s your family?!”

“Might wanna close your mouth Rog,” Deaky said with a laugh, tapping Roger’s chin as you had Kalaya’s.

A voice came from the bar and you looked to see Brian waving the three of you over. Deaky immediately started walking but you hung back next to Roger.

He seemed to be walking slowly because he was still processing the information, “I kinda thought you were exaggerating about the summer trips. And you weren’t kidding when you said whatever you want whenever you want, were you?”

You reached over and tucked a stray strand of hair away from his face and Roger looked at your hand as it dropped back to your side, “Mm-mm, wasn’t kidding about the whoever, either.”

Roger looked back up at you and you winked before turning to the others and gladly accepting the drink held out to you by Brian.

Chatting in a little group with Brian, Kalaya, and Deaky, you noticed that Freddie and Roger were off to the side but didn’t pay it too much mind. You were more focused on whether this Brian liked your Kalaya as much as she did he, and judging by the way he stared at her with adoration in his eyes as she talked, he did.

Standing apart from the rest of you with Freddie, Roger took a gulp of his drink as he looked at you laughing with the others.

“Fred, man, I can hardly keep up with this girl. We’ve only been talking for like ten minutes and all the things she says! I hardly know whether I wanna be with her or be her,” Roger told Freddie.

“What do you mean?” Freddie said with a confused laugh.

“Well she’s beautiful and funny and smart, sophisticated, has great taste--” “I think you’re confusing her with me,” Freddie interrupted with a sly smile.

“Ha-ha, Fred. Did I mention she’s also loaded?” Roger deadpanned.

“She’s got me there,” Freddie admitted. “Well are you going to do anything about it?

“I would, but she’s kinda intimidating,” Roger said and when Freddie looked confused he elaborated. “Like, she’s been flirting more than me tonight, even when we were onstage.”

“That’s saying something,” Freddie agreed.

“Exactly, so I feel like she’s someone who would want to make the first move,” Roger pointed out. And then a little quieter, “which you know I have absolutely no problem with.”

Freddie laughed loudly, “Well if things don’t work out between you two, I might just have to make her my best friend.”

“Hey, that’s me,” Roger said with a frown.

Patting Roger’s arm, Freddie rolled his eyes and told him, “I know darling, it was a joke.”

Deaky, Kalaya, Brian, and you got up from your seats at the bar, catching their attention, so they walked over to where you were.

��We’re walking the girls out,” Deaky explained because Brian was too busy chatting with Kalaya. Freddie and Roger nodded and then Deaky led the way, cutting through the crowd to the exit. Brian and Kalaya were lock-step behind him, and Freddie, Roger, and you followed up last, in that order.

“Leaving already?” Freddie asked you.

“Yeah, well if we want to get rooms for the night we better head over,” you explained.

“Oh are you staying at the Inn too?” Roger asked, his ears pricking up.

You nodded with a little laugh, “Seeing as it’s the only lodging in town, yes.”

Freddie laughed and Roger smiled sheepishly, thinking of something to say when you put your hand on his arm.

“Hold on a second, I gotta grab our ride,” you said quickly before heading towards the tables in the back.

Freddie and Roger shared a confused look, having assumed that the two of you would call a cab. You were walking back only twenty seconds later, slipping on your fur coat.

Roger gasped softly and gripped Freddie’s arm, “Fuck Fred, I’m in love.”

Freddie laughed, but his surprise-widened eyes were on the coat too, “With her or the coat?”

“Both,” he whispered back as you came up next to them, joined by a man and woman.

“Okay, quick introductions,” you said, realizing that you were standing halfway obstructing the doors. “Freddie, Roger, this is Chay and Martie. Technically Chay’s my family’s driver, but they’re both more like my siblings that I drag along to things like these. Chay and Martie, this is Freddie and Roger, of the band.”

“Yes, we assumed,” Martie said with a laugh, shaking Freddie’s hand first and then switching with her husband.

“Looks like we should head outside,” Chay pointed out, and the five of you exited into the cool night air. “We loved the set, you all were fantastic. And by the way, she did not have to drag us here, we were rather excited to see you guys ourselves.”

“Thank you, that’s very kind,” Freddie said with a warm smile and it was infectious enough that everyone smiled as well.

“Well, shall we go bring ‘round the car, babe?” Martie asked, always good at keeping Chay from getting too distracted.

“Yes, right, nice to meet you,” Chay said, and they all did their goodbyes.

You turned to Freddie and Roger, “Guess I’ll be leaving in a minute. I’m sorry we didn’t get to talk more, Freddie, I feel like we’d have a lot to talk about.”

“Me too dear,” Freddie said warmly. Then he gave you a pointed look, “But don’t worry, I’m sure we’ll be seeing each other again.”

You both knew what he meant, and by the looks of Roger’s flushed face, he did too although he pretended not to hear. It was hard to help the pleased smile that came to your face when you realized Roger must have talked about you to Freddie.

Freddie took a look at Roger and then said to both of you, “I’ll just go say goodbye to Kalaya then.”

He walked away and you took a couple steps toward Roger, until you were only about a foot apart. Roger wasn’t much taller than you, especially in your platforms, but from that distance you had to look up to look him in the eyes. You didn’t say anything, just looked at him and waited until he blushed again and looked down for a second, eyes landing on your coat.

“That coat looks great on you,” he rushed out, tucking a piece of hair behind his hair, which did nothing to calm him as it just reminded him of when you did earlier.

You looked down at your coat too, hands brushing over the soft, brown fur, “You like it?”

“Who wouldn’t?” he said quickly and you chuckled.

“You know Roger,” you stepped closer and put a hand on his arm. “I think we’d have a lot to talk about too. Probably have lots in common. You should call me sometime to figure out all what that is.”

With that, you reached into the inside pocket of your coat and pulled out one of your cards that you always kept handy ‘cause you never knew when a networking opportunity would present itself. You held the card up between your index and middle finger before reaching behind Roger and tucking it into the back pocket of his jeans. You let yourself linger that close to him and drank in his wide eyes, the way his mouth parted and how he seemed to be leaning down closer and closer to you.

“The car’s here y/n!” Kalaya called out to you, pulling both you and Roger out of the moment.

You looked at him once more, touching his arm again and then walking away. Throwing him a smile over your shoulder, you called, “See you later, pretty boy!”

Kalaya and you got into the back of the car and waved through the window to the four boys that were watching you leave. Once they were out of sight you turned to her.

“Good catch interrupting me and Roger then,” you told her.

“Always leave ‘em wanting more, right?” Kalaya said with a grin.

You laughed, “Right, exactly. By the way, things with Brian seemed to be going good.”

“They were, we had a lot of fun talking tonight. I think he likes me,” she said with a hopeful smile.

You nudged her, “I know he likes you. He couldn’t keep his eyes off you all night.”

“Same with Roger and you,” she pointed out.

“Well, I know he likes me too,” you said with a smirk and the whole car laughed. “You know if I were the type of person to get embarrassed, that’d do it.”

_____

A week later, during a giant heat wave that left no one able to do anything but sit inside and swelter, Roger called you around 7:00pm. Because you were lying on your bed with a fan pointed directly at you and you had a phone right next to your bed, it only took one ring for you to answer.

“Hello?”

“Hi, y/n?” you could tell by his voice it was Roger, but you kept that to yourself.

“Yep, who’s this?” you asked pleasantly.

“Roger from, um, Queen,” he said hesitantly.

“Oh, Roger, hello! You don’t have to say ‘from Queen,’ you know, I remember you perfectly,” you told him, sitting up so you were leaning back on your arm. Before he could say something in response, you started again, “So how are you, how are you doing? Have you had any more shows?”

“Good, I’m great. We had two more shows last weekend further north and we’ll have more next week around town--”

“Oh really? I think Kalaya and I would really love to go to another show, we so enjoyed the last,” you interrupted.

“Brilliant, you should definitely come, both of you, I can get you the details,” he returned and you interjected with a quick thanks. “But, what about you? How are you?”

“Ugh I’d be better, but it’s just so hot today,” you complained, flopping back onto the mattress.

“Well what are you wearing?” Roger asked and you grinned.

“Oh, getting a little cheeky are we, pretty boy? Haven’t even gone out and you’re asking what I’m wearing?” you asked mock-incredulously just to make him flustered.

“No--no, I just meant like if you’re hot, like maybe,” Roger was babbling, trying to find the best way to explain what he meant. “Just if you’re wearing layers or something thick or something I just--”

“It’s okay, I’ll tell you,” you said with a giggle. “Let’s see, I’m wearing satin running shorts, that to be honest are too short to run in, and one of those little strappy halter crop tops, you know the kind?”

“Y-yeah,” was all Roger could muster.

“So nothing that’s making me hot. And I’m not even wearing a bra so that’s not making me uncomfortable,” you reasoned as if this were a reasonable conversation.

You could hear his breath quicken over the phone and there was a pause where neither of you said anything.

“Maybe I should just go nude.”

You knew what you were doing, practically torturing the poor boy, but he had been the one to bring up what you were wearing, and it was the truth. But if you were simply answering his question with no impure intentions you would’ve been a lot less descriptive.

Roger made a sound somewhere between a groan and a laugh and then that was it so you sat up and kept going, “That reminds me, I’ve just had an idea. Today seems like a write off because it’s too hot to function, but it’s supposed to be cooler tomorrow, are you doing anything?”

He cleared his throat before he answered, “Um, no, I’m not busy.”

“Great! Kalaya and I were going to go shopping but I guess she’s hanging out with Brian instead. You can come with me and offer advice,” you told him.

“You’d want my advice?” Roger asked, confused.

“Yeah, I’ve seen your clothes both onstage and off. You have great style, Roger,” you affirmed and he smiled at the praise.

“Thanks, so do you. Um, that sounds great,” he replied.

“Okay, do you know the boutique on the corner of 10th and Wilder?” Roger hummed yes. “Good, let’s meet there at 11:30?”

“Perfect, looking forward to it,” he said flirtily.

You smiled, “Me too. Well, I should probably go, Kalaya and I are going swimming tonight at my parents’ to make up for her flaking out tomorrow. I’d invite you along, but even though my parents are out of town, they’d definitely hear about their daughter skinny dipping with some random pretty boy they don’t know. See you tomorrow!”

“I… bye,” Roger said, sounding incredibly sad that he couldn’t stay on or go swimming.

You hung up and then immediately rushed to Kalaya’s room to tell her all about the conversation.

_____

When you walked into the boutique at 11:25am, the clerk, Ayan, waved to you, as you were a frequent patron of the store. You had probably already seen all that there was to see, but thought that Roger’s fresh eyes might see something you hadn’t given much thought to before. There were a couple other customers around, but it was a little slow for a Saturday morning so you went to chat with Ayan about any new arrivals while you waited for Roger to arrive.

They were explaining that the boutique had gotten some fur coats from an estate that were in impeccable condition. The boutique was one of your favorites because it stocked mainly independent designers, consignment, and didn’t turn up its nose at thrifted finds of luxury items. In fact, it was where you had gotten your fur coat a few years before from the estate of a well known West End actress from the forties.

“There’s this one really lovely coyote--” Ayan cut themself off, eyes widening as they looked towards the door. “Don’t look now, but some special type of pretty boy is just about to walk in.”

Thinking only one person could fit that description, you looked, smiling as Roger walked in, scanning the store for you.

“You looked!” Ayan whisper-yelled and you couldn’t help but laugh. The sound drew Roger’s eyes over to you and you waved before turning back to them.

“Don’t worry, he’s meeting me. See you in a while with loads to buy under your commission,” you told them, winking.

“That’s why you’re my favorite customer,” they joked and you chuckled as you walked away.

“Hey, pretty boy,” you said cheerfully as you reached him before leaning in for a kiss on the cheek. He kissed you back and when you pulled back his cheeks were the cute pink that you were getting used to seeing.

“Hey, nice shirt,” he complimented.

You looked down at yourself. You were wearing high waisted medium wash denim shorts and a Hendrix t-shirt tied to the side at your waist.

“Thanks, I got it at his concert I went to,” you explained, smoothing it out.

“Where’d you see him?” Roger asked curiously.

“Royal Albert Hall, in ‘69. Me and Kalaya went together, it was a great show,” you said, remembering how it felt to see him perform.

“No way, I went to that concert too!” Roger exclaimed and you laughed excitedly.

“I wonder if we saw each other at all,” you said, smiling at the thought.

“Uh-uh, I would’ve remembered you perfectly,” Roger told you with a bold smile and this time, you were the one that was flustered.

“Should we start? I’m counting on you to find whatever I’ve overlooked in this store,” you said, changing the subject as you turned towards a rack of clothes.

“Do you have anything specific that you need?” Roger asked distractedly as he flicked through the hangers.

“The only need I have is to have all the best things this store has to offer,” you said airily.

Roger laughed and turned to you, saying teasingly, “Anyone ever tell you that you’re spoilt?”

“They usually stop when I pay them not to,” you said straight-faced, but Roger’s laugh made you break and you laughed together, leaning closer until you were sharing the same air and you placed a hand on his arm to steady yourself.

You were just wearing sandals, so Roger was taller to you than the week before and you actually had to tilt your head up to make eye contact this close. Roger’s laughter-brightened eyes looked at your still smiling lips and you noticed, the shift in mood making your breath quicken and your heart race. Under your fingers, the warm skin of his arm made you want to feel that warmth all over, and you wondered how long it would be until you could.

Then another customer brushed by, mumbling an “excuse me” awkwardly and the two of you were pulled away from a moment yet again. Your hand dropped from his arm and he turned back to the rack. It wasn’t long before your chatter started up again, especially as Roger found things that he liked for you to try on.

When he had made his way through the entire store, he had six things for you. He would have had a lot more but most of what he liked you already had.

First up was a black mesh long sleeve shirt that Roger told you to try on underneath your band shirt. It was longer than your t-shirt and you tucked it into your shorts, so your midriff that was exposed by the gap in between your clothes was covered by the mesh.

You came out of the dressing room, holding your arms out for Roger to see and doing a twirl, smiling widely.

“Do you like it?” he asked, smiling to match.

You nodded enthusiastically, “You know, when I saw this weeks ago I had no idea how to style it, but I love this! Very punk, street fashion, I’m a woman of the people.”

“Oh my gosh, never mind, I’m not sure you deserve to wear that,” Roger reached out and grabbed the sleeve, acting like he was going to pull it off.

“Stop!” you said through laughter. “You’ll stretch it out!”

He let you go and you went back in to try on more. There ended up being two dresses that you didn’t like because of color for one and the sheer amount of ruffles for the other. Then a shirt you realized you had in another color at home and a skirt that was itchy. Finally, there was a denim shirt that you didn’t really like because it was so plain. But you put it on anyway, figuring you’d humor him.

It was medium wash, the same color as your shorts, and it had some flowers embroidered in colorful thread which you supposed were nice, but overall it looked blah.

You stepped out of the dressing room again and Roger saw your not-so-happy face.

“What’s wrong?”

You scrunched up your face, “Don’t like it, it looks weird.”

Roger rolled his eyes with a smile, “That’s because you’re wearing it wrong. C’mere.”

You stepped close to him and he said a soft “may I” to which you nodded. His long fingers unbuttoned the bottom two buttons of the shirt. Then he tied it in a knot, fixing the ends so they laid correctly. His fingers brushed your skin and though they were warm, the feeling made you shiver. Roger was moving his hands so delicately, precisely, and you felt a rush of want go through you.

“And since you’re wearing a t-shirt,” even more carefully, he undid the upper buttons, leaving only the middle two done. Then he turned you around to look in the mirror and immediately your mind was changed. The way Roger styled it emphasized your waist instead of hiding it and now the monotone look worked instead of looking drab.

“How do you feel about it now?” Roger asked with a proud little smile.

“I love it, thank you,” you said, looking at him through the mirror.

Roger stepped past you into the dressing room and grabbed the mesh shirt, “Well here are your two finds.”

He handed the shirt to you, but before he could return his hands to his sides, you grabbed one of them, sliding your fingers along his to his palm and feeling the calluses there from drumming.

Roger watched your hand on his and only looked up when you started talking.

“Did you see anything else you liked?”

“Oh, do you want more than these two things? I can look again,” Roger suggested.

You smiled softly, squeezing his hand, “No, I mean did you see anything you liked for yourself? So I can thank you for helping me with these.”

“You don’t have to,” Roger protested.

“I might be spoiled, but I like to do some spoiling myself. I want to get you something, and this shop is too good for nothing to catch your eye. Anything you liked, nothing’s too much,” you told him, thumb rubbing over the back of his hand.

“Anything?” Roger hesitated.

“Anything, Roger,” you said, using your free hand to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear. That seemed to reassure him.

“I did see this display with this really gorgeous…” he trailed off, still uncertain, looking down.

“Really gorgeous… what?” you prompted.

“… fur coat,” he looked up to see your reaction. You were beaming.

“That’s the one Ayan was telling me about, the coyote one, right? It is gorgeous, they'll be so happy that it’s gonna sell already!” you exclaimed, using your hold on his hand to pull him over to that part of the store.

Roger followed you, a little confused about what you said, but glad that you seemed so happy. You let go of Roger’s hand, set your clothes on the corner of a nearby table, and pulled the coat off the mannequin, handing it to Roger. He pulled it on carefully, pulling the sides so they were equal.

“Here,” you put your hands behind his neck and then collected the hair that had gotten trapped underneath the coat and moved it to where it should be. He smiled his thanks and you smiled back, before turning him around to face the mirror he was standing in front of.

You stepped a little to the side of him and watched him look at himself. He let out a little laugh, the kind that meant “damn, I didn’t think I’d look this good,” and you had to agree.

Then he turned back around to you, “Whaddya think?”

You looked him up and down, the desire you felt earlier only growing, “You look… hot.”

Roger was a little surprised at your outright statement, but that was nothing compared to the surprise he felt when you grabbed the lapels of the coat and used them to pull him to you, kissing him full on the lips without hesitation.

As shocked as he was at the spontaneity, kissing you was something he had been thinking about for a while, so he recovered quickly, kissing you back. He put one hand just above your waist and the other on one of your hands, keeping it there.

But before either of you could deepen the kiss, you heard the sound of heels clacking and pulled back. Roger’s lips followed yours, and you giggled, leaning back towards him. You only planned to give him another peck but his soft lips distracted you for another five seconds or so before you remembered what you were doing.

You pulled back, dropping your hands, except Roger kept the one he had been holding and linked his fingers with yours, smiling at you. He still looked clear-eyed and focused after the kiss, so you decided that you had to get him home quickly so you could remedy that.

“So I was thinking we should go ring up and then go to my place. To drop off my new clothes and… stuff,” you said, a bit of a suggestive emphasis on the last word.

“Let’s,” Roger said, picking your shirt up off the table.

The two of you ended up taking off your new finds, figuring it’d be too hot outside for a fur coat and denim shirt, and then headed to the checkout. Ayan was pleased, but not all too surprised that you were taking home the new fur, even if it was technically going to Roger’s home. Roger, to his credit, didn’t have any more trouble with you paying, but insisted that he carry back all the bags. You agreed with the stipulation that he would still hold your hand, which he did.

You only lived a ten minute walk away, and Roger had taken the underground, so you walked the way home. There was chatting along the way, but it was hard to get too deep into any one topic with the feeling of each other’s hands and the anticipation of what was to come distracting you.

Once you got to your building, you were ushered in by the doorman that tipped his hat and wished you both a good day. Then the lobby manager told you a package had arrived and gave you a little thin rectangular box the size of a book. Finally you got into the elevator and the attendant hit the button for the highest floor, yours.

“It’s from my parents,” you told Roger about the box.

“Are they still travelling?”

“Yeah, they should be in Barcelona right about now,” you replied.

“Must be beautiful there,” Roger mused and you hummed in agreement. Then the elevator dinged and the two of you got off, waving to the attendant as the doors closed. You unlocked one of the two doors that were in the hallway (the other was the stairs), and opened the door, ushering Roger in first since he was carrying things.

You took off your shoes to the right of the entryway, next to a pile of other shoes and Roger did the same. Then you grabbed the garment bag that held Roger’s fur coat and hung it on the coat stand. You also took the paper bag with your shirts and put it on your dining table with the package as Roger followed you the rest of the way into your apartment. As you walked about, putting things where they went, Roger was looking around at your place. You had a dining area that turned into a living room with giant floor to ceiling windows on the walls that looked out over the city. Roger was absorbed by trying to see if he could see his building from here when he heard you calling him.

It took him a minute to figure out where you were; there was a long hallway that led to many doors. But it turned out you were in the first off of the dining room which was the kitchen.

As he came into the room, you looked up at him with a smile, “Here, wash up, I cut us up some peaches, if you like them.”

“Love ‘em,” he replied sweetly as he headed to the sink.

“Do you want anything to drink? I have water, soda, tea…”

“Water’s great,” Roger answered and you got two glasses. “I was looking out the windows, you have quite the view.”

“We’ll have to eat this in my bedroom, you can see Hyde Park from there,” you told him and he grinned excitedly, grabbing the bowl of peaches and then walking behind you, nudging you forward with his knee and you laughed.

“Right so, what are all these doors then? Seems like an awful lot for one flat,” Roger teased and you chuckled.

So you pointed to each as you came to it, “Bathroom, office, guest bedroom that Kalaya uses as a closet, Kalaya’s bedroom with an ensuite, closet that also leads to my room--”

“Wait, like a walk-in closet? Oh I have to see this,” Roger said, heading for the door.

“Later, later, I promise,” you said, grabbing his sleeve to pull him back. “We still have the pièce de résistance, my bedroom.”

With that, you pushed open the door and nudged Roger to walk in. He did, eyes quickly taking in your four-poster bed, vanity, bookshelves, record player and collection, chaise lounge, and finally matching windows to the ones in the living room. He walked over to the chaise which was in front of the windows and set down the bowl on the little side table, looking out the windows. You set down the glasses and stood next to him.

“Do you spend a lot of time here?” he gestured to the chaise.

“Yeah, when I’m home alone. I’ll just sit and watch the city live its life for awhile. It’s like people-watching but on a bigger scale,” you explained and he nodded.

So Roger sat down on the chaise, back against the raised end and legs spread out in front of him. He smiled at you and patted the space between his legs. You sat there, your back against his front, but you tilted yourself to the side so you could face each other more easily.

Roger grabbed the peaches and the two of you fed each other slices as you watched the city. It was a quiet and lovely moment with a growing underpinning of desire as the juices dripped down your chins and you kissed away the excess. Once the peaches were gone, you turned more towards him, catching his lips with yours fully once again. The taste of peach lingered on both of your lips, and the kisses were just as sweet as the fruit, just as soft as its skin.

Bringing your hands to Roger’s face, you swiped your tongue along his lower lip, moving it inside when he opened his mouth. Roger made a soft sound and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer until your chests were flush. Your breaths pushed you even closer and the feeling was intoxicating, all your senses consumed by the warmth of the moment. You tried adjusting to straddle Roger’s legs, but the angle of the chaise wasn’t very easy for that, so you pulled back, laughing lightly.

Roger had been even further into the kiss than you were so he wasn’t exactly sure why you were laughing but smiled all the same. This time, you saw his unfocused eyes and the tilted grin on his face and felt very proud of your work. Standing up, you brought Roger with you, grabbing the belt loops of his jeans to pull him with you as you walked backward towards your bed. Then you spun him around, pulling open one side of the gauzy curtains that were draped over the frame of your bed, and pushing Roger onto the bed. He laughed as he landed, scooting back so you could get on as well, letting the curtain fall back to its original place.

The light filtering through the curtains was hazy and soft, painting both you and Roger in amber light. Roger sat so his back was against your pillows and you made your way up his body, straddling his hips. His hands tentatively rested on your thighs, but he looked around your room once more.

“If this wasn’t already obvious, I really like your-- your decor,” Roger’s voice faltered as you took off your shirt, leaving you only in your bra.

You smiled mischievously, “I thought you would, pretty boy.”

***

Then you reached for his shirt’s hem, pulling it over his head. It left his waves a bit of a mess, so you combed your fingers through his hair. He hummed and closed his eyes as you did. When you were done, you threaded your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck and leaned in for another kiss. The two of you already had a rhythm of push and pull that made it easy to get lost in the kiss. Your free hand smoothed over the tan skin of Roger’s torso, sliding across his pecs and down to his waist, and you felt goosebumps erupt over his skin, smiling into the kiss.

Roger’s hands moved from your thighs, up your torso to your breasts, feeling your nipples harden through your bra and when you moaned as Roger thumbed them, he smiled as well. Your hands went down to Roger’s waistband and you unbuttoned his jeans, pulling down the zipper and starting to shift them down his body. But his hand over one of yours stopped you and you both pulled back from the kiss.

“Can I… eat you out first?” his request wasn’t what you were expecting, but the look of desire in his eyes and the slout pout of his lips sent a bolt of heat to your core and you nodded quickly, switching places with him.

He did take off his pants, tossing them aside, left only in his boxer-briefs. You could see his hard-on, but he was focused on you. Roger unbuttoned and unzipped your shorts, slower than you had his, and pushed them down your legs with your underwear.

Spreading your legs gently, Roger laid between them, turning his head to kiss up the inner thigh of your left leg. His mouth pressed wet kisses into the skin, making your tummy flip and just when he got to the top of that thigh, he switched to the other. Once he was done with both, he pressed kisses over your slit before dragging his tongue up through your folds. You let out a shaky breath as his tongue pressed on your clit, and you tangled your fingers in the hair at the crown of his head.

Roger formed his mouth around your clit and sucked softly, making you moan lowly. He pressed a kiss to your clit then looked up to you with wide eyes and asked, “Is that good?”

The way he asked wasn’t condescending like he already knew the answer, but more eager like he wanted to make sure it was.

So you hummed and nodded, “Yes, Roger, you’re so good, keep going.”

His mouth returned to your clit and he swirled his tongue around it, making you gasp out, “Oh-- yes, Roger, just like that, fuck.”

The praise made him even more set on making you feel good, so he brought a finger to your entrance, and pushed it in slowly. His mouth didn’t slow on your clit, but he was searching with his finger to find your g-spot, knowing he did when your legs twitched. Roger slipped in another finger with the first, immediately working on your g-spot and the feeling was so strong and so good that it was almost too much and your legs tried to close around him.

But Roger just used his free arm to hold you in place. He kept the same rhythm with his fingers and mouth and the pleasure within you just grew and grew. You could feel the tension in your lower stomach tightening with every brush of his fingers inside of you and every circle of his tongue on your clit.

“Oh, I’m close, Roger, fuck,” you managed to get out and Roger moaned against you, making your breathing uneven. “You’re such-- such a, fuck, a good, oh, such a good boy.”

Roger whined against you and you immediately came, the vibrations spreading hot pleasure all over your body as your back arched and you moaned loudly, tightening your grip in Roger’s hair. He kept going, wanting to make you feel as good as possible, partly because he couldn’t believe how hot it was to see you like that.

You were breathing like you had run a mile, but slowly coming down and you loosened your hold on Roger’s hair, combing through it again. Roger’s hum on your clit made you jump a little so you touched the side of his face to get him to stop; he propped himself on his elbows to look at you.

With a playful smileful you asked, “Did you like that, pretty boy?”

He just looked at you confusedly, so you explained, “Well you’re grinding into the mattress so I thought it must’ve been good.”

Roger’s eyes widened as he realized what he had been doing. He stopped, sitting up quickly.

“It’s okay. No need to be embarrassed,” you told him, sitting up and running a thumb over his pink cheek. “I’m glad you felt good too. Now, why don’t you let me make you feel even better, huh?”

He nodded and swallowed, “Yeah.”

You switched spots with him and leaned down for a kiss, running your tongue into Roger’s parted mouth and getting a taste of yourself in return. Reaching behind you, you undid your bra and took it off. Roger’s hands went to your breasts and you bit his lip when he pinched your nipples, moaning together.

You kissed from his lips to his jaw then down his neck, nipping again on his pulse point and where his neck met his shoulder. As you made your way down his chest, you pressed soft kisses basically wherever you could reach, and Roger squirmed a little underneath you, bright blue eyes watching your actions closely. A few kisses to his tummy and above his waistband and then you took off his underwear with his help, his cock hard and flushed red against his stomach.

Settled on your knees between his legs, and putting one hand on his thigh to steady yourself, you grabbed his dick in your other hand and bent down, pressing kisses along the shaft and then peppering them on the head. Roger moaned softly and you started pumping him and tongued his slit.

You sucked on his head, using your tongue to swirl around it and he groaned, looking at you with heavy-lidded eyes. Pulling off, you pressed a couple more kisses to this head and stroked him, “Such a pretty boy and such a pretty cock.”

Roger’s hips bucked and you hid your smile by going down on him again, not giving him any break. You worked your mouth down along with your hand, building a rhythm that was making precum bead on his head, which you happily sucked off.

Looking up at Roger, you saw that his head was tossed back, eyes closed with his lip between his teeth. You lifted your hand from his thigh up, brushing your thumb along his lower lip so he would let it go. As he did, he looked at you, tilting his head forward. His pupils were blown and he looked desperate as he watched you. You got an idea and a shiver ran across your body. You stuck your first two fingers out and slowly pushed them into his mouth, Roger’s lips immediately closing around them and starting to suck.

Both of you moaned; him around your fingers and you around his cock, making his hips buck again. You took him deeper in your mouth, as deep as you could go, gagging twice around his cock before pulling off again. You let the excess spit in your mouth fall onto his dick and used your hand to spread it around, jerking him off faster than before.

Roger was watching you intently, moaning whenever you twisted your wrist. You licked your lips and swallowed, “Your lips look so good around my fingers, Roger. You’re such a pretty boy, all desperate for me.”

He tried to say something that you could barely make out as “please.”

“Shhh, I got you. Do you wanna be a good boy and come for me?” you asked sweetly, lowering your head back towards his cock.

Roger nodded, keeping your fingers in his mouth, so you brought his head back into your mouth and sucked in time with your hand. You could tell Roger was getting close with the way his hips were shifting and you could feel the vibrations of his moans on your fingers stronger. His thighs were tensing so you pulled your fingers from his mouth, gripping his thigh with your wet fingers, and the slight dig of your nails into his skin set him off as he warned you hoarsely, “I’m gonna come-- fuck.”

He came as you jacked his dick off into your mouth, swallowing his cum as quickly as you could. His high moans of your name ignited a burn between your thighs but you focused on the task at hand. You pulled off, stroking him slowly now and using your tongue to lick any leftover spots of cum off his head. As his breath evened, you pressed one more kiss to his head and then sat up and moved to lay next to him.

***

Roger turned towards you and you kissed him quickly. You tangled one leg between his and started brushing his hair away from his still flushed face. One of his hands rested on your waist, tapping out a simple rhythm.

“You’re-- you’re good at that,” he told you with a little smile.

“Thanks, so are you, pretty boy,” you said, smiling when he flushed. “Are you ever not going to blush when I call you that?”

He looked away, then looked back, an unbelieving laugh escaping him, “Probably not.”

“Good,” you laughed, bringing him in for another kiss.

_

Later, after cleaning up, as the two of you were redressing, Roger remembered that he had yet to see your closet.

“You promised,” he reminded teasingly.

“I remember,” you rolled your eyes, but opened the door and led him in. He stepped in slowly, taking in every inch of very organized racks of clothes, shoes, and accessories with his eyes, which was a lot of inches.

“This closet is literally the size of my living room. My clothes would only fill one rack. Oh, I want this amount of nice clothes,” Roger said wistfully, running his hands across the racks.

“You know, I could help with that, for a small price,” you said with a smile.

“Are you thinking… sex? Because I’m already feeling like your sugar baby with the coat immediately turning into us hooking up,” Roger said and you could not tell if he was joking.

A look of amused shock took over your face as your eyes went wide and your jaw dropped, “I was thinking more like you keep helping me with my own shopping so I focus on finding the best things instead of buying everything in the store, thank you very much.”

“Oh,” Roger said with a sheepish smile.

“And excuse you, ‘immediately turning into us hooking up?’ it’s not like I jumped you in the store!” you said, pushing his shoulder.

“Well, you kind of did jump me,” he countered, stepping in front of you and placing his hands on your waist. You scoffed, not touching him. So he took your hands and put them on his shoulders, placing his back on your waist. You pretended to be mad and looked away, not making any move to separate yourself from him.

Roger leaned closer, only a few inches from your face, “I was gonna say that I wouldn't mind being your sugar baby, it’s a pretty sweet deal.”

“Shut up,” you said with a laugh, looking at him, and he did. “It’s a sweet deal for you because you get stuff and sex. I can get sex from anyone, the only payment worth it from you is your sense of style.”

“Well then I’ll happily pay with that,” Roger nodded. He smiled and you rolled your eyes at his absurdity, but let him press his lips to yours in a kiss that made up for it.

★★★

permanent taglist: @riseetothesun @caborhapch @drowseoftaylor @queenlover05 @johndeaconshands  @stardust-galaxies @madamsledge

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[your-one-true-prince]

HEY. I never finished my work and now it's 4:20 am. BUT ANYWAY. You should do the om bros but as cats this time [insert sparkles here]. Kay bye. ily.

Thank you for the request bby I love you. But also go to bed on time before I go over to your house and hit you with a frying pan.

Cats can be tricky. Sure, some breeds tend to have certain traits but for the most part they depend on location, age, family, and past experiences. So instead of doing strictly breed only (which is what I think you're asking for bc of the dog post so sorry about that) I'm going to do headcanons about what I think they'd act like as MC's kitties. I will still put kitty pictures/what I think they'd look like though because you seemed very happy about the dog photos. Just keep in mind they won't all be a certain breed.

Lucifer

Long-haired mix

Polite to MC's guests and tolerates their petting but prefers to avoid them

Would rather sit next to MC while they both do their own thing than to be cuddled

Acts like a momma cat to the other cats and MC. Will occasionally try to groom MC's hair

Will often bat the other cats on the head when he gets annoyed

Very prideful cat (obviously). Walks around like he owns the place

Likes to lay in high places and stare down at people judgingly

Lays on MC's laptop/keyboard to "help" them get work done. Doesn't realize he's stopping the work entirely

Generally the kind of cat people assume is an asshole but is actually sweet to MC

Mammon

He's some kind of short-haired mixed breed. No one is quite sure what he is. Just that he's a trouble-maker

Constantly stealing MC's things. Oh you're laying a sock on your bed? It's his now sorry

Has a stash under a bed somewhere of all the stuff he's stolen

The neighbors hate him because he tries to take their stuff too. Also because he sits on the wall and teases their dog

One time he was showing off and fell over the wall. That's why he's missing his tail

Can and will scream for no reason

The kind of cat that claws at you for petting him and then gets mad you stopped

Leviathan

Another mixed breed. Medium hair

Very skittish cat. Easily startled by loud noises or found hiding under the bed

Won't approach MC for attention but always enjoys receiving it

Hates the outdoors. Will hide from cat carriers and has to be dragged clawing and hissing out the door when it's required

Probably the most playful of all the cats. He will always be down to play with MC, be it with toys or just with them in general

Has to have his own toys. Will not share with the other cats. His toys are one of the only things he will fight other cats over

Will sometimes be missing all day just to show up at the end of the night. MC still doesn't know where he hides

Got stuck in the wall once

Satan

Orange tabby cat. Just because they're known to be assholes (don't come at me I used to have one and I loved him)

The reason the asshole cat stereotype exists

If MC tries to pet him when he's not in the mood they will be clawed

Doesn't ever seek out affection but does enjoy it on occasion

Hated by vets. Just the absolute worst cat to take to the vet. Has to be sedated every single time

Will never let MC clip his nails

Another one to lay on MC's computer to "help" them

Territorial AF. Has attacked strays before

Likes to lay on the couch behind MC's head while they read. Sometimes it looks like he's reading over their shoulder.

No matter how moody he can be he still loves MC

Asmodeus

Alright I know I'm gonna get a lot of disagreement for this one but Asmo is 100% a Sphynx cat and none of you can convince me otherwise

Sphynx cats are very sociable. They are known to show off and always want their owner's attention

Plus, they have no fur so they get cold easily. You know what that means? Sweaters!!

Asmo probably has his own box just for all his outfits. MC can't put it in storage because he needs a new outfit every day.

Asmo is definitely the cat to follow MC around the house, looking for their attention

If MC ever has guests over he's always greeting them and trying to be the center of attention

Has to be spoiled. Mewls loudly when he doesn't get his way

Only the highest quality cat food. Wet stuff or even fresh tuna

Beelzebub

Definitely a Siberian or Maine Coon

Absolutely giant cat. The kind that people post photos of on the internet showing they can barely lift them

He does not care that he's huge, he will be in MC's lap the second they sit down

Relatively quiet but will purr like a monster truck when MC gives him food. Even the neighbors can probably tell when it's feeding time because of the purr

Can't be fed with the other cats because he'll try to eat their food. Satan has clawed at him because of it

Beel is the kind of cat that likes to go on walks. He has his own harness and everything.

Surprisingly agile for his size. MC consistently finds him on top of the fridge or on the cabinets

Generally just a big sweetie

Belphegor

Ragdoll cat. Two reasons: 1) they're known to be lazy and 2) the fur pattern kind of reminds me of his hair idk

Another cat that will claw at you for petting him and then get mad you stopped

Commonly seen cuddled up against Beel or in MC's lap

Claws at Mammon a lot for being noisy and waking him up

Loves kneading MC. Sitting down? Thigh kneading. Laying on the bed? Tummy kneading. Lap already occupied by another cat? Side kneading.

Knocks things over on purpose. When MC scolds him he looks them dead in the eye and does it again

The kind of cat that likes toys but won't get up to play with them. MC has to go to him and even then it's a 50/50 chance he'll play

Let's MC hold him while they sleep but gets annoyed if they shift around

[earlysunsetsoverambrose]

Kodachrome (3/5)

Vincent Sinclair x f!Reader

You headed down to the basement to make sure Vincent hadn’t melted while cooped up in the basement. You wondered how he survived down there with heat like this and being surrounded by melted wax the whole time. You made it down the steps and called out to alert him to your presence.

“Vincent! Are you alright down here? I’m just checking in.”

You learned the hard way that when Vincent was focusing on his work, he didn’t register much else. If you don’t explicitly state your arrival, he won’t hear you and then you’ll end up sneaking up on him. It turns out that when Vincent gets startled, he has a tendency to swing. Luckily, he missed when you snuck up on him by accident, but you damn near lost an eye that day since he was holding a knife. You poked your head around the entryway to see him looking in your direction, aware you were there. He nodded at you before returning to his sketching. Jonesy was on his bed, wagging her tail at the sight of you.

You made your way closer to him, glancing at the drawings strewn all over the walls and floor.

“I just wanted to make sure you’re doing okay. Do you need anything? Water, maybe?” you offered.

“No…thanks.” Vincent murmured in response, not looking up from his drawing.

“Okay.” You sighed. While the twins were polar opposites in a number of ways, they had a blatant disregard for self-care in common. “I do have a question, though. It won’t take long. I don’t want to distract you or anything.”

Vincent sat up from his work and gazed up at you, listening.

“Do you know anything about photography? I noticed a lack of photographs and I figured I’d try to tap into my artistic side. But I’m not sure where to start.” You asked. While in reality you weren’t too concerned with the artistic composition of the pictures you’d be taking for memory’s sake, you thought this might be the best way to engage with Vincent on the subject. He seemed most at ease in the context of artistic sharing and you didn’t want to scare him off by shoving a camera in his face. Bo didn’t care whether you took pictures or not, but you knew it might be a bit more of a touchy subject for Vincent.

You watched as Vincent put his fingers to his chin in contemplation. After a moment, he shook his head in response, but before you could speak again, he held up a hand as he stood from his desk. You took a step back as he began to rummage under his bed. You followed after him, scratching Jonesy’s ears while he continued his search.

“Do you need help?” you asked, but he waved to tell you he didn’t. You saw him pull out a box filled with various books. He dug through it until he found what he was after. He stood back up and moved back to stand in front of you. He held out a book entitled ‘The Art of Photography.’ You took the book from him and examined it. It was a little rough around the edges, but mostly untouched. You flipped through the pages to see brilliant example of photography with what you expected were in depth analyses and explanations on the subject. “This is incredible, Vincent. Do you mind if I borrow this?” Vincent pushed the book in your hands closer towards you.

“Keep it.” He rasped.

“I couldn’t, this is-” Vincent held up his hands to stop you. His mind was made up. “Are you sure?” you asked. He nodded. “You won’t need it?” He shook his head this time. “Well, thank you so much, Vincent. I really appreciate this. And if you change your mind, just let me know, okay.”

Vincent returned to his desk, but didn’t immediately start sketching, rather he continued facing you.

“I take it you never took interest in photography.” You asked. He shook his head, glancing at his drawings and wax figurines. They were the artistic language he understood best. “May I ask why? Is it just because it didn’t appeal to you? Or you don’t think it’s a good medium?” Vincent pondered his response.

“No good at it.” Vincent said with a shrug of his shoulders.

“I’m almost one hundred percent certain that’s not true, but alright.” You teased.

“Like working with my hands.” He added

“I can understand that.” You said. His chosen mediums were wax, drawing, and sometimes painting, after all.

“And…” Vincent started. You listened closely as he mustered up his next words, “Didn’t want my picture taken.”

“No?” you asked. He shook his head as he cast his gaze to the ground.

“Don’t want to look.” He whispered as he raised a hand to his mask. You felt your heart rip at his words.

“Why don’t you like looking at yourself, Vincent?” you asked gently. You had your suspicions, but you wanted to hear it from him.

“…Ugly.” He said simply.

“You’re not ugly, Vincent, not at all - not by a longshot.” You said firmly. He glanced up at you, skepticism clear in his blue eye, “And I’m not saying that to be nice, I’m saying it because it’s true.”

Vincent looked back down, clearly not believing you. You knelt down, forcing him to face you.

“Vincent, I know you won’t believe me, but I sincerely think you’re incredibly handsome. Beautiful, even.” You said softly, with a smile as genuine as your words, “It’s not just your exterior either, you’ve got such a beautiful, wonderful soul and it shows in everything you do. You create masterpieces from of a bit of paper, wax, charcoal, and paint. You amaze me every single day, it’s astonishing. You’re gentle and patient and hardworking. You’re great, Vincent!”

Vincent slowly met your eyes, searching for the truth in your statement. Your stare was unwavering, you only hoped he could find the sincerity in everything you said. You smiled up at him.

“You know I was talking about photography to Bo earlier,” You started, “And he doesn’t care for it either, but I always thought it was a great way to remember every last detail of the moments we don’t want to lose. It’s like putting time in a bottle. It’s a powerful medium that way.” You stood from your place on the ground and Vincent’s gaze followed you up. “I promise I won’t take your picture if you really don’t want me to, Vincent. But I just want to say that it would feel wrong to me, to cut you out. You’re such a huge part of what makes those moments important. You change them. You make them better. And I think you deserve to be a part of the memories too. Without you there, it wouldn’t feel quite the same. But with that said, I’ll respect whatever you want, I swear.”

“Thank you.” Vincent whispered, not breaking from your eyes.

“No problem.” You said simply, thinking nothing of it. Vincent swiftly reached out and took your wrist in firm, gently grasp.

“Thank you, Y/N.” he repeated, hoping you understood he was thanking you not just for respecting his boundaries, but for everything you said.

“You’re welcome, Vincent.” You said with a warm smile. He released your wrist and turned to begin drawing again. After a brief pause you asked, “Do you mind if I stay with you for a little longer. We don’t have to talk and I’ll stay out of your way. I thought maybe I could hang out with Jonesy or dive into my new book?”

Vincent nodded gesturing for you to make yourself at home as he turned back to his work. You thanked him as you moved to sit by Jonesy and made quiet conversation with her as you scratched her ears again. She made herself comfortable with her front paws and head in your lap. Your eyes scanned Vincent’s workshop, having never been down there long enough to take in everything. Your sights landed on a rack of clothes you knew couldn’t be for Vincent. You guessed it was just a general stock of clothes he could pull from to dress the tourists when he was finished encasing them in wax. You moved your eyes up to see some wigs resting on top of the racks. You spotted a short red bob, wavy blond, and finally a long straight black wig. You raised an eyebrow as you thought for a moment the last one looked kind of like Vincent’s hair. It was then a stroke of genius hit you. You looked from the wig to Jonesy, unable to contain your grin,

“Jonesy, there are like a million treats in this for you if you go along with what I’m about to do.” You whispered. Jonesy wagged her tail, happy to be included.

As Vincent was engulfed in his work again, he didn’t notice you shuffling around his studio. It wasn’t until he heard you gasping for air through your relentless laughter that he turned to look at what had you in stitches. There, perched on his bed, he found his dog dressed identically to him. You had managed to dress Jonesy up in one of his sweaters and a spare waist apron of his. To top it all of you had precariously balanced a wig on her head that fell into her eyes just like his did. You even added a nice touch of giving her an old paintbrush to hold in her mouth. You were practically in tears, laughing so hard at your own masterpiece.

“I-I’m sorry, Vincent! I didn’t mean to interrupt!” You struggled to say through gasps for air, “But this is amazing! Look at you two!”

Vincent looked at Jonesy who was completely unbothered by her new look, tail wagging still.

“It hurts! My ribs! I can’t stop! Help!” you almost panicked as tears of laughter rapidly rolled down your face. Vincent held out his hands, worried your legs might give out from your fit. He had to admit, however, seeing you take such joy in something so small and simple, made him happy. There had been a noticeable absence of laughter in Ambrose for so long, but you had filled it since the day you arrived. It was nice. He couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle of his own as you continued to struggle.

“It’s nice. Like it.” Vincent said patting Jonesy on her wigged head.

“It’s like you’ve got a triplet. It’s uncanny!” you said, finally regaining control of yourself. You glanced between the two of them, very proud of yourself. You knew it was a little risky, but you asked, “I know the idea is still fresh, so you can say no. But, can I take a picture of the two of you? Please?”

Vincent glanced at you and back at Jonesy. He did think it was pretty funny, and Jonesy looked so cute. Plus, he was sure he’d never heard you laugh as hard as you did just now; and he had been part of that, like you said. That was worth remembering for a long time. If a picture could make you laugh like that again or even smile, it was worth it to him. He nodded to give you permission. You beamed at him, thanking him over and over as you lifted your camera to capture the moment before it disappeared. With a brief flash, you had another picture for your back pocket.

“Thanks again for everything, Vincent! I’ll get out of your hair now! And I’ll also get Jonesy out of your hair.” You joked as you removed the wig and put it back where you found it. You quickly shimmied her out of her costume, thanking her for her remarkable cooperation. You picked up your new book and headed towards the exit, “Thanks for letting me bother you both! I’ll see you later!”

You saw Vincent wave as you as he sat back at his desk, reaching for a new sheet of paper, inspired by something different now. You wondered if he’d let you show him your pictures, one day. Or if he’d let you see some of the work that he hid from everyone else. You had so much to share with one another and you couldn’t wait to record it all.

[frozen-hearts-club]

The Blue Moon 3

This story has graphic murder scenes

Another slow and painful month passed Conyers by. No one ever come to claim the new victim either. David didn't understand how two young women can go missing and their family not even notice. The girls was healthy enough before their tragedy happened. No drugs was in their system They were well taken care of, their weight was healthy. David could not see how No one could not miss them.

The townspeople always talked in a whisper when David would stop and get his coffee or dinner late at night at the same Chinese restaurant. He could tell they wanted to ask him about the case but he was not the most friendliest person out there. He always have them cold stares.

David spent most his time looking at the two young women's photos in a special conference room set aside just for that case alone. He read their medical reports He looked at their dead and broken bodies on the pictures over and over again. Nothing about the bit marks stood out to him or to the medical officers. David had always figured out his cases. No matter how long it took. No matter if it had a happy ending or a terrible one. David always got the job done. But this was starting to wear him down mentally and physically.

Of course officers did patrol the lake area quite a bit. They were always so scared they would run into the monster responsible for these disgustingly horrible murders. Conyers Police department even had two of their best cops quit their jobs over this case. David knew it was out of fear. They had young daughters the same age as the girls that were killed. The case was just too much for the officers to handle. But David never did mind death. He always welcomed it. He just hated it when innocent people got hurt.

David looked up into the big blue full moon. The forest was casting shadows over his face. David was busy digging another grave. He had ran into trouble earlier that week. The man he was digging the grave for, was a short light skinned man. He had a bad drug problem always breaking and Entering people's home. His brother had worked at the police station and always got him out of trouble. Sweeping all of his dirty deeds under the rug.

David had enough after the third offense and nothing still happened. David knew for sure he was going to make it happen.

A single gun shot to the man's head and he gone.

David never worried about the other officers catching up to him. He felt none of them had the smarts or the guts to actually accuse him of the murders he committed.

Plus being first to the scene usually helped him out in the long run.

:::::BUT YOU GUSSED IT::::

***Ding***

David's phone went off about 7am. This was supposed to be his day off. David rolled over in bed to answer the loud annoying phone.

""David get down to the lake""

David snapped his phone closed quickly. He didn't even need to respond.

David shortly arrived at the at lake. Again the sounds of the rushing waters and officers talking filled his ears.

David quickly walked over to the young woman's body. She was definitely a lot younger than the first two girls. David gussed she was 17 at the most. She was also twisted up beat up with a broken neck. But this one was different. She had a lot more cuts and bite marks. Half of her face had been crushed. A single muddy boot print left the side of her face dented in. She had soft green eyes, long red hair. But something was just so different about this girl. She had a strong smell of ammonia on her. David checked her hand and the number 3 burned into it.

David wondered how long this could go on for.

David finished up his usual work at the crime scene. And quickly made his way back to the office. He was ready to talk to the medical officers in the morgue. They told David the boot print was a size 10. Nothing special about the boot imprint itself. No logos no nothing. Probably half of the hunters who hunted that land had the same brand of boot. The medical officers told him that The killer had to have dyed her hair. They had guessed that the young girl's hair was originally blonde. But the killer obviously likes red heads. A sick obsession. It was the same DNA on the body as the other two girls.

David walked out of the morgue feeling a little more hopeful. He now had a boot size and hopefully one of the drug stores around here sold the red hair dye.

David spent the rest of the day and half the night going from store to store. And nothing no one has sold any red hair dye in the past year. Red was not a very popular hair color in the town. Most stores didn't even sell the red hair dye at all.

David was then at a low lost breaking point.

Who could be killing all these young girls? How could he not notice a killer?He himself was a killer. You would think that he would know one because he is one. But nope. David had went back to the station and went over evidence after evidence, picture after picture. Still nothing.

The next morning plenty of news reporters, worried parents was at the police station. Yelling and demanding that something has to be done. David had never went home that night. He fell asleep in the evidence room at the large table. With the crime scene photos surrounding him. David woke up to hearing stomping boots on the floor.

His boss was talking to a short red haired loud lady. She had a bright gold badge on her hip and issued gun. She didn't wear normal work clothes. She had a simple white T-shirt on and jeans and dark boots. If she didn't have The badge or the gun He would not have known she was a detective.

David thought to his self, REALLY? They are going to send a redhead women into this town? He started blinking deeply at this thought.

David's boss waved him to come over. """This is detective Violet Hopper. She is from Florida. The supposedly Sunshine State. She just transferred in since we are low on officers at the moment. She is going to be your new partner"""

David gave a large frown. He never once had a partner. Why did he have to put up with her? David looked at the young girl. How long has she even been a detective? Was this her first case?

David rolled his eyes hard. He didn't like the idea of this at all. He would have to share his car. He would have to share his space. All for what? It's not like they had anything new to go on anyways.

Davis shot Violet a cold stare. It was obvious that he did not want her there.

Violet was definitely no dummy. She could feel the air thicken around them. She looked up at David and rolled her eyes hard at him as well . He was not going to run her off so easily.

Any other time she would have considered David her type. He had short/ medium black hair that he kept slicked back. Tattoos on both hands. A werid star tattoo on his neck. His eyes was a beautiful light blue, he had light dark circles under his eyes. She could tell he has not been getting much sleep.

But that was still no reason to be rude.

David showed Violet the room set aside with all the evidence. He watched he go through each picture each medical report. She come up with the same thing everyone else did nothing.

David could tell that all the pictures was starting to get to the young new detective. He watched her wipe a few tears away. This definitely should not have been her 1st case to work.

David watched his new partner for the rest of day. She made her way around the office interacting with everyone else in he never could. David didn't like half the people he worked with. Everyone felt to fake, never willing to

reveal their true colors. David didn't like fake smiles and friendships.

Soon it was time to clock out. David found his way over to his partner. She was finishing up some older paper work on this the missing girls. David wanted to start a small conversation with her.

""You figure someone would miss our youngest victim""

Violet looked lost in thought she didn't respond right away. Her fingers slightly ghosting over the keyboard.

""Maybe he gets them from different towns and feels more comfortable killing them here""

David had consider that multiple times. But why Conyers tho? There had to be connection that he missing.

[gashinabts]

You Again (m)

Word: 4.4k

Pairing: Seokjin x Reader, first love, ex-lovers to lovers

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut 

Summary: “...When we broke up, you said it was better this way, I didn’t want to hold you back. You have a bright future, I was only going to make things messy for you,” you give him a sympathetic smile. 

Warnings: Implied smut, AnGSt, Mature language

a/n: my dude, seokjin looking like a snack. This took like a long time to write and hopefully you enjoy it. I have this thing for first loves since I desperately want one. 

  “ I want to marry you,” Seokjin whispers to you, while holding your body closer to him. You look at him crazy since you were both sixteen and way too young to think about marriage. He laughs and kisses your nose, “Not right now, but in the future.”

“ Then I do, you know for future references,” you kiss him on his nose and he whines. You tease him further, kissing him everywhere but his lips. “ You should go Seokjin...before my parents come tell me to eat breakfast.” Then you finally kiss him on his lips. 

“ Mmm...okay,” he gets out of your bed and pulls his shirt on. You walk him to your window and kiss him one last time. “ I love you.”

“ I love you too.”

Seokjin smiles when he wakes up since he dreamed of you. He wonders how you are doing and if your married. What if your not maybe he searched for you and asked you to marry him. He laughs at the thought, and at his own pity, thinking you are still in love with him. Many years passed and your still on his mind. His thoughts are interrupted when he hears ringing from his phone.

“ Good morning, Mom,” he already knows it’s his Mom calling so early in the morning.

“ Ahh, hello, I called my good friend yesterday and guess what?,” she replies excitedly. Seokjin hums and walks towards his closet, browsing different articles of clothing. “ Her son is also single too! What is it with this generation, you should have at least two children right now. This your chance to be looking for a relationship, you’re not an idol anymore and your at stable point right now, and your thirty nine...” he continues to listen her ramble about his love life and finally decides what he wants to wear. “...Are you even listening to me, son?”

“Ahh, yes Mom, I am. You know what you are right, I’m going to get married right now to the first person I see today,” he jokes and his mother lets out a displeased groan.

“ You don’t get it, I just want you to be happy and find someone who will love you and you can love back.” He puts the phone on speaker and dresses himself up.

“ Yes, I understand, but I feel content with my life right now,” he states and grabs his phone while walking to the living room. It’s not a lie, he does feel content with his life, he is well off and is living comfortably. But something in the back of his mind is telling him that he is not happy.

“ If you say so, and can you pick up your father’s medication, it should be by that convenience store by your house.” Seokjin agreed to pick up the medication and says his goodbyes.

—

He decides to take his bike to the store, it’s wonderful weather, the sun is shining bright and the birds are singing. Everything feels good and it’s peaceful, at the same moment his bike trips over a medium size rock and crashes to someone. “ Ahh, you old man! I could’ve died and my Mom would kill me if I died,” the victim is on the floor.

‘Old man’, no one ever called him old, well Jungkook would call him that in a teasingly matter. He looks down at the girl on the floor, she has a bruised knee and it’s bleeding, she has a middle school uniform on. “Oh my...I’m sorry, are you okay? Do you want me to take you to the hospital?,” he parks the bike and offers her a hand.

“ I’m okay, my knee hurts a lot,” she pouts and grabs his hand. She stands up and hisses in pain. “ I’m Seo-ah, the most beautiful girl in my school however you messed up my knee,” she points at her knee as evidenced.

Seokjin scoffs, this girl is quite cocky, he shouldn’t be judging since he’s also like that. “ I’m Seokjin, and I’m still sorry about that, what can I do to make you feel better?”

Seo-ah smirks, “ Old man, I want some ice cream and some ramen.” She points to the convenience store that’s a couple feet away.

“Yah, stop calling me that, I’ve been told that I look very young for my age. And you should at least say please when asking for something.” He continues to walk with her to the store. They enter and she immediately goes to the ramen section, while Seokjin goes to pick up his father’s medicine. Seo-ah brings two ramen and two ice creams to the counter, “One for you and one for me,” she said to him and smiles brightly. After they check out the items, they boil the ramen and sit by the table.

Seo-ah was about to eat the noodles, when she hears Seokjin tsk at her. “Blow the ramen before you eat it, it’s really hot,” he then blows at his own ramen. She rolls her eyes and blows very loudly at her ramen. She quickly finishes her food, and eagerly eats the ice cream.

“ God, this is so good. My Mom gave me money to buy food but I spent it all on makeup,” she sighs. Seokjin gives her a disappointing look, “... what? It wasn’t my fault, there was a good sale going on.”

“ You shouldn’t even be buying makeup, you don’t need it.” Seokjin looks at her face, she has a pretty face, it’s clear and her features are symmetrical. She could pass as a model, if she wanted to. Her parents must be very attractive.

“ You don’t understand, I’m going to high school next year, everyone is going to be wearing makeup. What if my boyfriend finds someone prettier?” She whines and swings her legs back and forward. The ice cream is gone from her hand, and she looks at his ice cream that hasn’t been touched. He gives her his ice cream and she happily cheers.

“ You don’t need to worry about boys until your in college, you should be focusing on your studies. And even if he dumps you for a prettier girl, then he isn’t worth it,” he messily pats her head. She groans and tries to fix her hair. As she does that he notices a familiar thin ring on her finger. 

“You sound just like my Mom, so you didn’t have a girlfriend in high school then?,” she asked curiously while fixing her bangs.

It caught Seokjin off guard, his high school girlfriend wasn’t just his ‘high school girlfriend,’ it was more than that. He remembers when he asked you out during the first year, how you blushed since he asked you out in front of everyone. When they used to sneak little kisses in the library and hold hands under the desk. He remembers sneaking in your room at night and making love to you and talking about the future together. Then he remembers the end of the relationship, when you both decided it was best to break up. He remembers hugging you for the very last time and giving him one last kiss. “No, I didn’t have one, ” he quickly says.

“Now you are lying, I saw your eyes gleam when I asked you that question,” she laughs and pokes at his shoulder. She gets up throws both of their trash away. “ Come on, I need you to take me home.” They both walk outside the store and to the bike.

“You want me to take you by bike! I should just call a cab for you,” he’s about to grab his phone. But she hurriedly takes his phone away and puts it in her backpack.

“No, you can’t do that you need to earn my forgiveness. Feel pain to feel my pain, you know. Plus, it’s fun hanging out with you, old man,” she pats on his seat. He doesn’t know why but he does it, he bikes with her sitting on the back holding onto him. She hums a little and tells him directions where her house is at. He’s profusely sweating when they finally arrive at the house. The house is average looking and there’s small pink flowers blooming in the front yard. She gets off the bike, and points at the house, “ This is me, you wanna come inside, you look tired old man.”

“Uh, I don’t know...I think I should just go.” He looks around the neighborhood and stretches his legs as he gets off the bike. Seokjin looks at Seo-ah’s disappointed face.

“ Just come inside, I’ll give you something to drink, you look a little dehydrated.” She doesn’t wait for a response and grabs his hand, urging him in the house. He looks around and feels a rush of warmth and a comforting scent in the house. “I’m going to get you some water.” She leaves him in the living room, as he goes towards a picture frame on a desk. He squints and sees you, Y/N, his first love. You have short hair and are carrying a baby, your smiling big and your cheeks are lightly touching the baby’s cheek. Then it hits him, your child is Seo-ah, the features are similar, she’s just as beautiful as you, he looks more at the picture and notices you look young. He remembers when you guys broke up in your mid twenties, he is doing math in his head calculating the age you had her. Is Seo-ah his, no way it can’t be, you would’ve told him.  “Ahh, that’s my Mom, isn’t she pretty?” Seo-ah intrudes his math calculations and hands him a cup of ice water.

Seokjin takes the water and places on the desk, “ Seo-ah, if you don’t mind me asking...where’s your father?” Her eyes widened but she quickly recovers and laughs.

“Uh, I don’t know. When I was younger, my Mom used to tell me that he was with the stars. I remember always wishing on a falling star that I would at least see my Dad,” she says and smiles thoughtfully. Seokjin heart drops when he hears her somber voice. He wants to hug her and tell her it’s okay, so he pulls her into a hug. Tears in his eyes as he tries to envision the possible memories he missed of her childhood.

“Uhh, Seokjin are you okay?,” she pulls out of the hug and looks at him questioning. He doesn’t know if he’s okay, he wants to ask you if this is his child. He wants answers and he wants to see you.

“ Yeah. I’m okay,” he smiles at her and finally drinks the water. “ When does your Mother come home, I need to tell her that you spend all your money on makeup,” he jokes with Seo-ah. He looks around at the picture mentally tracing her smile that looks similar to yours.

“ Hey! Old man, you can’t tell my mom that! I told you that in confidentiality, I’m never going to tell you anything anymore,” she huffs and twist her ring on her finger. He notices her doing that gesture and is reminded of you, when he gave you a ring for your birthday, promising he’ll buy you a diamond ring in the future. He also remembers you twisting it when you were at the cafe on the day of the break up.

“ Did your boyfriend gave you that ring?,” he asked subtly.

“ No, this actually my Mom’s, she said that my Dad gave this to her when they were in high school high school. I always used to beg her to let me wear it so I can feel closer to him. Eventually she just gave it to me,” she pulls the ring off and gives it to Seokjin so he can see it for himself. He remembers saving all his money for buying this simple ring and how excited you were to receive it, placing so many kisses on his face as a thank you.

Seokjin and Seo-ah heads turn when they hear the front door open,“ Seo-ah, I’m home! Help me with the grocery bags.” Seokjin knows that voice, he would sometimes dream of it singing him to sleep when he was stressed out. When he turns to look at Seo-ah, he realizes she’s already walking towards the front door, Seokjin feels nervous that your here in the same radius as him. He still has the ring and places it in his pocket, and walks toward the front door too. Seo-ah is leading him to the front door and towards the trunk of the car.

You don’t notice him, your too invested on telling what Seo-ah needs to carry and she walks back to the house with the groceries. You go to carry a gallon of milk until a manly hands stops you. You gasped in surprise and turn to see who it is, “Seokjin?” He looks beautiful as ever, doesn’t look like he has aged at all, he looks like the same man you fell in love with, it feels like a dream. You reach forward and grab him in arms, hugging him tightly and he holds your hips with his hands as if it belongs there. But then you pull quickly, “ What are doing here? Were you in my house? How do you know my Seo-ah?,” your asking question after question. Does he know that he’s her father, did he tell her. 

“ Mom, this is Seokjin he ran me over with his bike, look at my knee,” your daughter pouts at you. You look at her knee and see that it’s still fresh. She’s standing besides Seokjin and they look so much like each other, and you can’t help but smile. 

“ It doesn’t look too bad, put some antibiotics on it and let it breath for awhile. If it gets really infected we’ll go to the doctors...,” you grab the gallon of milk before Seokjin can protest, “...it’s nice meeting you, I’m Y/N.” You tell Seokjin and close the car trunk, walking back inside the house, it’s safe to pretend that you don’t know him. It’s for the best.

 You place the groceries on the table and tell Seo-ah to change so she can help you for dinner. Once she’s out of sight you turn to Seokjin, “You still haven’t answered my question.” 

Seokjin arched his eyebrows and crossed his arms, making him look more intimidating. “ You want to ask me questions,” he asked in disbelief and pulls out your ring out of his pocket showing you, “...tell me why Seo-ah had this and told me that her Dad gave this to her Mom in high school.” You look down from his piercing gaze and he walks up to you closer. He puts one of his hands under your chin making you stare into his eyes. “ Is she my daughter?,” he asked quietly. His eyes are glossy and he’s closer to you than ever.

“ No, she isn’t,” you look away from him. It’s better to lie to him, he is doing better things without you. He became a successful actor and model. This is the reason you broke up, right?

“Y/N, tell me the truth,” he says in desperation. His hands are placed on the counter behind you while you’re trapped in the middle. He deserves to know the truth, he’s the father of your child and the man you’ll always love.

“Yes, she’s your child.” You try to leave but he hugs you and sobs into your shoulder. Your shocked because he’s never cried this much, you feel guilty for causing him this much pain. You place your hands in his hair brushing it back, it feels silky in between your fingers. “It also hurt not telling you too,” you tell him while coddling him.

He pulls away from your touch and pain is etched all over his face, “ But why didn’t you tell me! She’s my daughter too, I miss everything about her, the birth of her, her first steps...her calling me Dad. So tell me Y/N, why didn’t you say anything?” His hands are trying to wipe down the tears that are pouring. 

“ I was scared to tell you! You were just becoming a successful actor and all of a sudden your girlfriend is pregnant. When we broke up, you said it was better this way, I didn’t want to hold you back. You have a bright future, I was only going to make things messy for you,” you give him a sympathetic smile. 

“ I didn’t fucking care that I had a ‘bright future’ due to my modeling or acting. All I cared about was you! I love you, I would’ve dropped my career in a heartbeat if you would’ve told me this.” He stares intently in eyes, waiting for you response. You don’t say anything, tears are also falling from your eyes. Seokjin wipes your tears and kisses your cheeks, hushing you gently to stop crying. “ How many pounds was she?,” he brushes some of your hair back. 

“ Six pounds, she was so small in my arms. I remember feeling scared when carrying her,” you say quietly while leaning into his touch. He smiles and tries to imagine what she looked like as a newborn. 

“I wish I was there to support you, you are such an amazing mother, fuck—so beautiful and strong. Your raising her well, she acts just like you,” he smiles teasingly and brushes his nose against yours.

You laugh and swat his chest, “ Seo-ah acts like you, I swear she has the same personality as you. She claims to be the most prettiest girl in school, hmm sounds familiar Seokjin?” Your hand is brushing the hairs on the nape and he basically purrs when you do this. It’s funny how you still know every inch of his body. His body close to you makes you feel warm, and you want to bask it in forever. 

He leans forward and lips centimeters away from yours, “Well I don’t remember you complaining how cocky I was in bed back then.” He goes to kiss you but you hear Seo-ah’s door opening and you lightly push Seokjin away. He pouts when you do this and go over to pick up the vegetables and tell him to start cutting them up. 

You tie your hair back, and help Seokjin cut the vegetables. He playfully nudges you with his hip and you giggle feeling young again. The simple things that he does drives you crazy, why does he look so handsome cutting vegetables. “Mom, can I hangout with Jinho later?,” Seo-ah ask sweetly. You would typically tell her to do some chores or study for some hours before she can even consider hanging out with her boyfriend but Seokjin is here and you need to talk. 

“No.”

 That didn’t come from and you turn to see it was from Seokjin. He’s firmly standing his ground with his arms crossed over, “ There’s no adult supervision and what happens if you get hurt? You can’t trust boys nowadays he might try something—“ he continues but stops when Seo-ah groans. 

“ Ugh, he’s my boyfriend and respectful, we are just going roller skating. And if anything you’re the only one that hurt me,” she exclaims while pointing to her knee for the fourth time today.  You roll your eyes as they keep bickering at each other and you laugh a little when Seokjin lies that all of his dates were supervised when he was in high school. 

“ Calm down, Seo-ah you could go with Jinho but I expect a clean bathroom and bedroom when you come back home,” you tell her and you hear her and Seokjin whining. “Stop whining, or your going to clean the whole house,” you warn her. She murmurs an okay and washes the dirty plates in the sink. Time passes by with you and Seokjin cooking dinner and Seo-ah talking about her day while she was at school. Seokjin is actively listening and asking questions during her storytelling. You start to feel sad thinking that you should've told Seokjin that you were having his child. He fits right in the picture, he’s making some dad jokes, and Seo-ah is groaning but laughing.

Once your done cooking, Seo-ah places the food on the table and you serve everyone. You can tell Seo-ah is eating faster than normal so she can hurry and go to her date. You and Seokjin start talking to each other, it feels normal. You ask him questions about his friends, Namjoon and Jungkook, and he asks you questions about your job and family. “ Do you two know each other?,” Seo-ah ask. 

“No!,” you say loudly.

“Yes,” he says confidently. Seokjin gives you a look and you shake your head no, pleading him not to say something. Telling your daughter that this man, who she just met today is her father is just too much for a kid to handle. You look at her and she sets her rice down and goes to her room. 

“ Why’d you tell her yes? There’s no way in hell I’m telling her that your her Dad.” you whisper yell at him. You turn your head to see what your daughter is doing in her room, but she’s just going through her drawers.

“ But I do know you...please let me tell her that I am her Dad. I want to at least be in her life,” he ask you gently. You look down, not knowing what’s for the best for Seo-ah. He grabs your hand and rubs comforting circles with his thumb. Seo-ah comes back to the kitchen and you quickly pull your hands out of his, and he gives you a pained expression. Seoh-ah places a picture in the middle of the table, and you turn pale, it’s a picture of you and Seokjin at the beach. You remember asking one of his friends to take a picture of you two, it was after graduating high school and decided to celebrate.

“ I know Seokjin is my father, I stole this picture of him five years ago. He looked so familiar...he would always appear on commercials and dramas. Then I remembered looking at your face, Mom...you would always smile fondly when you saw him on TV or when we passed a billboards of him. Today when I saw my da-- Seokjin, in person, I didn’t want him to just pass right by me, I wanted to talk to him...so I purposely went in front of his bike when he was riding it. I took him home so you guys could see each other,” Seo-ah finished and she went towards you, grabbing your hand softly. You couldn’t believe that she knew who her father was the whole time. Your daughter had tears in her eyes and you wanted to take all the pain away. So you pulled her into a tight hug whispering a sorry. You start peppering kisses around her face to stop her crying, you look towards Seokjin and he gives you a small smile seemingly also wanting to comfort Seo-ah. You whispered her to go comfort Seokjin and she leaves your embraced.

She turns and faces Seokjin, “ Hi Dad.” He looked surprised when she calls him Dad but smiles widely as she attacks him in a hug. “ I’m sorry I called you old man...,” she smiles as he laughs. “ I waited for you for a long time and now your here.”

“ I’m so sorry I was gone for a long time...I knew something from my life was always missing. It was you and your Mother. I promise I’ll always be there for you...would you like that? Would you let me be in your life and you can be in mine?,” he brushes her and smiles happily. 

“ Yes.” She pulls him into a tighter hug and he groans. “Don’t tell me your back hurts old man.” You snort a laugh and can’t help but feel warm watching your daughter and her father hugging. You start to imagine how much easier it would be to had told him, how it would be like if he was there in her earlier stages. 

“ Seo-ah, don’t you have a date to go to?,” you ask her while walking up to them. She looks up to Seokjin for permission and he nods his head, she happily glees and goes to her room. You reach for his large hand and cradle it, “ I’m so sorry, if I could go back in time I would tell you. Then you wouldn’t have to miss everything and Seo-ah would’ve had a better life-” he cuts you off and places his index finger on your lips. Seo-ah reappears in the kitchen and hugs you and Seokjin goodbye. You tell her to be careful and to comeback before nine pm. Once she leaves you and Seokjin go to the couch.

“ Don’t be hard on yourself, and don’t you dare say she would've had a better life. You raised her all by herself and look how amazing she is. I’m here now, that’s all that matters my love,” he cradles your face in his warm hands. You close your eyes, waiting for him to kiss you. The last time you had kissed him was over ten years ago, and oh man how you loved kissing him. You pucker your lips and then feel his plush lips on your forehead. You gasp and open your eyes only to see him leaning back and chucking at you. “ You want me to kiss you, remember I don’t kiss before the first date.” He traces your bottom ip with his thumb.

“ I don’t like you right now,” you pout and turn your head. He tilts your head back to stare at him and he comes closer to your lips, you think he’s going to tease you again but this time you feel his warm lips on yours. It’s small innocent kiss until his tongue traces your bottom lip, asking for entrance. The kiss now feels like a lost lovers kiss and you enjoy the feeling of desperation in the atmosphere. You pull back when things start to get more heavy, “ I thought you don’t kiss before the first date.”

“ I changed my mind, the love of my life is right in front of me, why wouldn’t I kiss her.” He goes back to kiss you once more.

--

“ Mom, I’ll bring Father’s medication tomorrow morning,” he whispers and hears her complaining and asking questions. He looks over at you, where you lay in bed asleep and naked.  You slightly shiver due to the cold and he brings the blanket over your body and you unconsciously smile in the warmth. He caresses your hair and gently places kisses on your cheeks. “ And I’m marrying Y/N and we have a child,” he smiles fondly while looking at you. It’s silent for a while and he thinks his Mom had accidentally hung up. “...Mom?”

“ Your Mom is driving to your place right now, son,” his Father sighs. “ Congratulations, I knew you and Y/N were gonna end up together.”

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Do not repost, translate, or alternate my work in any way, onto any platform. I do not take plagiarism lightly.

[dbzebra]

Surpassing the Strongest

Im back on Marten bs lol

This is something Ive wanted to do for a while now. A 28th World Tournament / End of Z retelling, which focuses on Goten’s plans to follow in his fathers footsteps like Goku originally planned back in the Buu Saga. Ignores DBS obviously.  Anyway this is just a oneshot for now but may possibly make it into a longfic.

Enjoy!!

May, Age 784.

Ten years of peace had passed since Majin Buu's defeat.

The cool spring air blew in from an open window of Orange Star High School. Son Goten was lost in thought as the lecture droned on from in front of him. He couldn't hear what the teacher was saying. Rather, he didn't really care. He wanted to be outside and enjoying the day. Flying around or out on a date.

Ya know, something that was actually fun.

Something, anything but being cooped up in a stuffy building all day on such a nice afternoon. If Goten closed his eyes, he could feel himself soaring through the clouds on the Flying Nimbus, the wind in his hair and the whole world below him. Ever since he learned to fly, it's been his absolute favorite thing to do.

"Man, I wanna go to the beach!" Goten whined to himself and continued daydreaming about the endless possibilities of summer fun when he heard two kids whispering from the back of the classroom that piqued his attention. Super sensitive hearing really came in handy sometimes!

"Did you hear? Mr. Satan won't be participating in the World Martial Arts Tournament next week. He announced his retirement yesterday."

"What, really?! Maybe I should enter then. Now I'll actually stand a chance."

"Noooo! Mr. Satan can't retire!" Another kid chimed in, slamming his fists down on his desk in despair. "He's my hero! The strongest guy in the whole universe!"

"It's true man. I saw it on TV. He's all bald now too. Mr. Buu is gonna sweep with him gone. He's unbeatable next to Mr. Satan!"

"Awww… Yeah, you're right. Buu is unstoppable! He's never even been touched in a fight once!"

Goten snickered to himself. If only they knew the truth. "Speak for yourself. Me and Trunks almost beat him when we were fused together!"

The more Goten thought about it, the more it intrigued him.

He always loved the World Tournament, ever since he was a kid. Growing up, Goten loved hearing stories from his dad, Yamcha and Krillin about their fights from the old days. He collected all tons of World Tournament merchandise over the years, most notably of which were figures of every finalist leading back to the very first Tournament. The premium edition figurine of his father as a teenager during the 23rd Tournament was his most prized possession. He had to send in like one hundred postcards to a sweepstakes to win. The day he got the letter in the mail saying that he won, he almost flipped.

The news of the upcoming Tournament re-ignited a fire in the young Saiyan.

"Maybe I should enter! I'll run it by Mar later..."

__________________________________________________________

The final bell rang as class was let out for the day.

Goten stretched his arms out wide upon walking out the front doors of Orange Star High with an extra pip in his step. It was finally the weekend!

He spotted his girlfriend leaning against one of the pillars at the front gate, sporting her signature twintails. She was waiting for him! He grinned and picked up his pace a little bit. Marron twirled a strand of blonde hair in her fingers as she absent-mindedly watched a capsule-plane go by from above. 

Being a sophomore, sixteen yer old Marron was on the cheer squad and wrote for the school newspaper. Like most girls her age, Marron loved shopping, but her true passion was writing. It all started when she used to read fantasy books and write in her diary as a little girl. She hoped to work for a big fashion designer as a writer when she got older.

"Hey there, gorgeous." Goten said while he snuck up behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders.

Marron flinched in surprise, but lit up when she heard her boyfriend's voice. She swung around and jumped into his arms, planting a kiss on her boyfriend's face. "Goten! It's great to see you!" Marron said and kissed him again, just for good measure. He definitely wasn't going to object.

“You too! So how was class?

“Boring. I’m starting to see why you and Trunks skip all the time.” Marron huffed, and then playfully poked his chest. “I guess being a delinquent like you has its perks~!”

“Told ya!” He said with a cheeky grin, eager to tell her about what happened today. “Anyway, ready to go?”

Marron smiled and grabbed his hand affectionately. A date was just what she needed right now. "Sure! Where are we going~?"

"There's an ice cream stand near the park about three blocks that way." He replied, gesturing over his shoulder with this thumb. "I'm friends with the guy who runs it!"

"Sounds great! It's such a nice day out! And I don't have to be home anytime soon anyway, so we have the whole afternoon to ourselves!" Marron chirped and playfully pulled him along.

After a bit of walking, they reached their destination . It was one of the more popular spots, so there wasn't a surprise there was a line.

"If I don't get something in my stomach soon, I might just eat my own hand!" Goten whined, his stomach growled almost as if it was agreeing.

"I'd pay to see that." Marron laughed.

Soon enough, it was their turn.

"Well well, look who it is! My number one customer!" The man at the stand said. He was an older man, about Goku's height. He had a kind face with short grayish hair. "Welcome back, Goten!"

"Hey Mr. Sherbert!"

"On a hot date?!" Mr. Sherbert said as he winked at the two teens. "You'd better treat her right, you hear?"

"Yeah! I'd never do anything bad. Right Mar?" Goten grinned. Marron blushed a bit from next to him.

"So what can I get for you two kids today?"

Goten already knew what he wanted; he had thought about it on the way over. "You first."

"Hmm..." Marron scanned the options until she found just the right one. I'll take a medium sized scoop of mint on a waffle cone, please." Marron said, eyeing the green-colored ice cream in the picture.

"Comin right up, miss! And how 'bout for you, big guy? The usual?"

"You bet!"

The older man laughed out loud. "I'd expect no less! A triple deluxe cone of vanilla, strawberry and chocolate with rainbow sprinkles, comin' right up!"

"How much do I owe ya?" Goten said, digging into his pocket for his wallet.

"This one's on the house, kid." Mr. Sherbert said, waving off Goten's attempt to hand him money.

Goten and Marron both looked shocked.

"What, really?"

"Yep. Don't worry 'bout it."

"Wow! Thanks a lot!"

"Just make sure you show this nice young lady a fun time on your date, okay?" Mr. Sherbert said with a kind smile, as he and Goten shared a laugh.

"I promise!"

After that, Goten and Marron got their food then took a seat on the grass in the park across the street and ate their snacks together.

"So, tell me. What's the big news?" Marron asked as she finished off her food, feeding off his anticipation. She could tell it was something big- whatever it was. "You've been antsy all afternoon!"

Goten fell backwards onto the grass and put his hands behind his head. "Well, I heard something interesting in class today!"

"You mean you actually paid attention?"

"Nope!" Goten declared without hesitating one bit. 

Marron rolled her eyes with a giggle. She expected that response. 

"It's about the World Martial Arts Tournament."

"Oh yeah!!” Marron exclaimed. “That’s next week, right? What happened?"

"Mr. Satan retired. And I'm considering entering. I’m sure Trunks and my dad will too.”

Marron gasped and clasped her hands together joyfully. "Oh my God, Goten, you totally should!" Marron exclaimed, putting her hands on his knee. "It would be so cool! Plus, it'll be like a little vacation for us!"

"You really think so?"

"Of course! You'll do great!" Marron declared happily. She gently took his large hand in her smaller ones and stared deep into his eyes. "You've been training so hard these past few years. I know that better than anyone. You said you wanted to surpass Goku someday, right? Well this is your biggest chance. I’ll be your cheerleader the whole way!” Marron declared that as if it were a love declaration.  But it didn’t matter what place he came in. To her, Son Goten was already number one. 

Goten liked the sound of that. He sat up and stole a quick kiss from Marron's lips when she wasn't paying attention. He pulled back and saw that the blonde was staring down at her dress, a scarlet-red hue covering her cheeks from ear-to-ear.

“You're the best, Mar. And you're right. I'm entering. And I'm going to win!"

"W-W-Warn me before you do that! I-I-I wasn't ready!" She stammered out, fixing her hair to distract herself from the sudden kiss. It was only a moment, but she felt the love and appreciation he had for her in it.

A sly grin made it's way onto the half-Saiyan's lips. "Okay then. I'm warning you now."

Marron didn't have time to react as she screamed with laughter when he pounced on her a moment later. They fell back onto the grass together and started making out, not caring who saw them.

_____________________________________________________________

It was almost dusk when Goten and Marron parted ways for the night. As the young Saiyan approached his home in the mountains from above, the sky had become a brilliant orange and red hue. It was like a wild flame slowly dying out into the calm darkness of the night. Sunsets were always soothing for him. When he was still a small child, Goten used to watch the sunset and think of his dad, wondering if he saw the same sunset from Other World. 

Goten dropped down onto the grass in front of his house; smoke coming from the chimney. Goten smiled widely. He could smell dinner from here! "Oh boy! My favorite! Nothing beats Mom's cooking!"

“I’m home!” Goten called upon walking in.

“Hey kiddo! Grab a seat, it’s chow time!” Goku waved to his son, already seated at the table.

Chi-Chi placed the last plate on the table and then sat down herself. “Welcome home, honey!”

Goten sat down and together the family of three started eating. Chi-Chi paced herself while the boys ate in typical Son fashion-- as if it were their last meal ever (and seemingly never even came up to breathe). Chi-Chi sighed with a smile. She was used to it by now. 

“Man Chi-Chi, you outdid yourself! This is really great!!” Goku exclaimed and went back for a fifth helping. “Your food is the best in the whole world!”

Chi-Chi touched her cheeks, bashfully smiling. She was even blushing a bit. “Oh, stop teasing, Goku. You're embarrassing me!”

“I’m serious!” Goku continued.

“Um, Mom…” Goten started hesitantly. He scratched the side of his cheek, thinking how to word his next question. “Sorry to ask this so suddenly, but… can I take a week off from school?” He said and then braced himself for the ‘no.’

Without flinching, Chi-Chi put down the tea she was sipping and smiled. “Planning a romantic getaway with your girlfriend~? I don’t mind, but if something happens are you prepared to take responsibility? A girl’s virginity is a special thing, Goten!” 

Goten instantly did a spit take. He hacked and coughed and Goku patted him on the back. Once the teen caught his breath, he went pure red from embarrassment. Or was it from shock? Probably both. 

“What I do with Mar is none of--- W-Wait! There’s no romantic getaway!” Goten practically shouted. 

Talking about that type of stuff with Trunks was one thing, but it was the absolute LAST topic of conversation Son Goten ever in a million years wanted to have with his mother. 

“Oh honey, stop being so dramatic. I’m no fool. I know how much you two love each other, it’s only natural!”

“Mom! Enough! I’m not talking about this with you!”

In the years since Buu, most things didn’t bother the Son matriarch anymore. Chi-Chi let things slide. She even started wearing her hair down or in a ponytail more often than not. And became brazent with her playful teasing. Too brazent for Goten’s own good. First Gohan, now him. Goku almost felt bad for them. Almost. He found it amusing. 

Goten slapped his cheeks and quickly shook off the image before his mind could wander any further to any thoughts that might make him not able to ride the Flying Nimbus anymore. 

“Besides, 18 would kill me, revive me with the Dragon Balls, and then kill me again!!” Goten said, getting a laugh from his parents. They were laughing because they knew he was right. 

“Of course, honey. Now what’s the real reason?” She knew Goten would likely skip anyway. Goten didn’t think she knew, but she did. She was smarter than she looked. But still, she appreciated that he came to them first, whatever the reason was.

“I want to enter the World Tournament.” Goten declared, surprising both of his parents. 

“I’m in too!!” Goku replied with the same confident grin his son had. Goku had a feeling Goten would. “There’s this guy I’ve been keeping an eye on lately. He’s got some insane power within him, more than he realizes. I have a hunch he’ll be entering the Tournament next week.”

Though he didn’t say this aloud, Son Goku had another reason he wanted to enter the Tournament. A lesson that his master had taught him long ago. 

“A hunch?” Chi-Chi asked, somewhat worried. She had gotten used to the peace again. They all had. The last thing she wanted was another creep with an inflated ego dragging her boys into another universal death battle. “Sounds like bad news to me.”

“No need to worry. This guy’s totally pure of heart.” Goku replied, easing his wife’s fears.

“So who is he then?” Goten said, in between heaps of food. “Do we know him?”

Goku flashed his signature wide grin. “Sorry! Not telling. You’ll have to wait and see for yourself!”

Goten slouched back in his seat and frowned. “That’s lame. You’re no fun.”

“We’ll have to train for the Tournament just to be sure! I have a feeling this is gonna be a fun one!”

“Yeah!” 

“I had a feeling this day would come sooner or later.” Chi-Chi said, sighing slightly. It was tough for her seeing her baby boy growing up into a man. He was almost done highschool, in a loving committed relationship, and now following in his father’s footsteps as a fighter. Soon he’d be out of the house and out on his own. The thought almost made her tear up, but she supported him nonetheless. The Son matriarch excused herself from the dinner table to hurry into the hall closet and pulled out a large white box with a bow on it. 

Upon returning, Chi-Chi glanced to Goku for a moment and then handed her son the box. “I know your eighteenth birthday isn’t for a while, but I… we wanted you to have this before your big day. I made it myself.”

Goten raised an eyebrow at the box, shaking it slightly. It didn’t sound like a game or anything like that was inside. Now he was really curious. He carefully lifted the lid off of the box to see a brand new gi. His current one was fine and all, but it was getting a little too small and worn out over the past months of consistent training. 

“Whoa! This is…” He gasped.

It was an orange gi, much like his father had worn for decades. But what made it different from Goku’s was instead of blue, Goten’s new gi had a black undershirt, and matching black belt, wristbands and boots. 

Goten smiled as wide as could be as he lifted the gi out of the box to get a better look at it. “This is great! Thank you so much! I’m gonna go try it on!!” He said and ran to his bedroom to change. 

Goku and Chi-Chi idled about in the meantime, cleaning up from dinner when the teenaged Saiyan returned shortly after. 

Chi-Chi’s eyes lit up like stars while Goku proudly beamed from beside her. 

“Oh, look at you! You look so handsome!” Chi-Chi gushed, fussing all over her son despite his protests. “You look just like your father did when he and I reunited at the Tournament all those years ago! Ahh, those were the days~!”

“Yup! Lookin’ just like his old man!” Goku said. “Except for the hair!”

“Hey! Don’t hate!” Goten whined. “This hairstyle is stylish!”

Goten had recently changed his hairstyle to stand out from his father. Instead of his father’s signature palm-tree hairstyle, Son Goten let his hair grow out. It still shot out in most directions, but was now much longer and shaggier, reached the back of his neck. He liked it a lot more. Even better, Marron said it made him look super cute. So he decided to stick with it!

“Training begins tomorrow!” 

Goten smirked. He couldn’t wait. 

The next day, Son Goku came into Goten’s room bright and early, ready to start. They didn’t have much time to prepare! He found the teen was curled up in a ball, clutching his pillow for dear life. 

“Rise and shine, kiddo!” Goku swung open the curtains, bringing the hot bright rays of sunlight right onto Goten’s face. 

Goten winced and half-opened one eye. “...Dad? It’s ...7 AM! On a Saturday. Come back in like three hours.” Goten grimaced and then pulled the covers over his head, hoping his father would go away. It was too early for this! He was in the middle of an awesome dream too! 

“No way. We’ve only got six days till the tournament! We’re gonna train for three days, and then rest for three days.” Goku said and yanked the covers off the bed entirely. “We’re getting breakfast out on the road, so get up or you’ll miss it!” 

Goten groaned even louder than before, finally sitting up. The teen rubbed his eyes and yawned loudly. His hair shot out in every direction even more so than normal. Under most circumstances he wouldn’t mind early morning training, but his bed was too comfy to leave it right now! If he went back to sleep now, maybe he could continue the dream he was having! “Can’t today be a rest day?”

“Nope. Now be outside in ten minutes or your mother said no dinner for you!” Goku grinned teasingly, knowing that was his son’s weakness.

“Oh come onnn! That’s--. Ugh. Fiiine!” Goten whined. “Cheater.”

After brushing his teeth (still half asleep) Goten threw on his new gi. Knowing how their sparring sessions usually went, he hoped it wouldn’t get destroyed after not even having it a full day. 

He tiredly dragged his feet out to the kitchen where his mother was waiting for him. 

“Never shoulda entered this stupid Tournament…” He mumbled to himself and yawned again. 

Chi-Chi shook her head, laughing. “Oh hush. It’s not that bad. You know how your father gets in times like this.”

“Yeah, yeah. He could’ve at least waited another hour though!” Goten said and then went outside to see his father talking with Gohan as little Pan ran around at their feet.

“Oh, hey Gohan!” Goten said happily. 

“I see Dad’s puttin’ you through the ringer, huh?” Gohan chuckled when he saw his brother drag his feet out onto the grass. “I was down that road plenty of times growing up.” 

Goku had traded his signature orange gi for a blue gi with dark bluish-green pants, black shoes and orange wristbands. He still dearly treasured the Turtle School colors, but wanted something different for a change. 

“Uncle Goten!!” Pan cried happily. The toddler wore a little red gi, a present she got from Goku and Chi-Chi for Christmas the previous winter. Pan jumped into the air and came flying at him like a football player trying to take down the quarterback. 

Goten braced himself for the hug just as Pan slammed into him, laughing. “Hey, squirt!”

“I’m not a squirt, I grew two inches!” 

Pan giggled. She loved her uncle so much. He was like a big kid, but also an adult! Pan didn’t really get how that was possible, but she just wanted to be just like him. He showed her all the funnest games, and always knew all the coolest places to go! Plus whenever he visited he always snuck her candy when Gohan wasn’t looking. 

“Guess what Uncle Goten? Daddy says I can enter the World Toonament!” 

Goten couldn’t help but laugh at her pronunciation of the word tournament. “Wait, what? You’re sure it’s okay if she enters, Gohan?”

Gohan nodded. “When she heard Mr. Satan used to be the Champ, it’s all she wanted to do. Videl and I agreed that since there’s no threats anymore, it wouldn’t be a big deal. There’s no Junior division this time, but we’ll all be there anyway. So no harm done.”

“You’re right about that! Besides, I think she can give Goten a challenge!” Goku said, winking up at Pan. 

Pan tugged on Goten’s pant leg. “Is it true you’re comin’ fishin’ with us?” 

“Sure is, Pan! Come on! You can ride on my shoulders!” Goten said and picked the little one up. She felt so tall!

“Alright, we’re heading off!” Goku said. Pan cheered while Goten smirked and pumped his fists. Now that he was fully awake, he was ready for action.

Gohan trusted his father more than anyone else in the world. He went over to affectionately pat his daughter’s head. “Bye, Panny. Be good for Grandpa and Uncle Goten!”

“Okay Daddy!” 

And with that, the three were off. Gohan watched them go and then went back inside for his morning coffee.

The three followed the dirt path to a pretty meadow nearby. Dew glistened on the blades of grass, as the sun continued making its way over the mountain horizon. A river gently flowed into a waterfall that spilled into a sprawling crystal clear lake.. It brought back a wave of nostalgia for Goku as he could remember the countless times he went here to fish with Grandpa Gohan growing up. 

Goten placed Pan down and stretched as the toddler immediately ran over to the river’s edge and stared in awe. 

"Alright before we start training, whaddya say we get some breakfast? I’m starving!" Goku said, already prepping. 

"Sure! I got it covered! I’ll get us some fish!”

"My favorite!” Goku said. No matter how many times he ate Paozu tuna, it didn’t get old.

In the meantime, Goku gathered firewood and then fired a tiny ki blast to start a fire. Pan helped by throwing sticks to make it bigger. He placed three large wooden stakes over the fire, one for each of them to roast their breakfast on. 

Goten got down to his boxers and dove into the river. It was cold, yet refreshing. If he wasn't fully awake yet, he was now. The teen swam around a bit until some huge fish caught his eye. Common for this area, the Paozu fish were at least five times his size, and normally blue and white in color (but there were other colorations as well). Four of them spotted Goten at once and rushed towards their prey, each with the intent to swallow him whole. 

Goten became motionless, waiting for the right moment. As the first approached, he swam down and kicked it in the side, killing it instantly. The teen then disposed of the other three aquatic attackers in a similar fashion.

Goten swam around and gathered his food. One for each of them and one extra! They could split the last one. 

With their breakfast caught, the three generations of Sons sat around the fire, enjoying the morning together while they ate their breakfast in typical Saiyan fashion. 

Goku burped and rubbed his stomach upon finishing. “Man, that hit the spot! Now it’s time for training!” 

“I wanna train too, Grandpa!” Pan exclaimed. 

Goku ruffled Pan’s hair, making her giggle. “You like flying, right?” He asked, knowing the answer already. 

“Mhmm!” The four-year old gleefully said, raising her little hands into fists. 

“Alright, well how about this? I want you to fly around the world as fast as you can!”

Pan’s little eyes lit up. “Really? Okay! Can Uncle Goten come with me??!”

Goten laughed and knelt down to be on eye level with the toddler. “I’d love to, Panny, but I gotta train! Next time I’ll go with you! And I’ll show you something real cool!” 

“Pinky promise?” She said, holding up her little finger.

“Of course.” Goten grinned and they shook on it.

“Alright, bye Grandpa! Bye Uncle Goten!! I’ll be back soon!!” Pan waved and took off to the east. 

Once Pan was out of sight, the Son boys could truly focus on their training.

“So, what’s on the agenda??” 

"Okay, Goten. First, I need you to power up as high as you can possibly go." Goku folded his arms and smiled confidently. "I know things have been easy in these peace times, but I wanna see the progress you've made. You've been training primarily with Trunks, right?"

Goten nodded. "Yeah. At first it was pretty casual but these past two years or so we've really gotten serious."

Goku had full faith in his son. Though Goten was suppressing his energy, Goku could feel the sheer amount of power he had within him. In his fight with Buu, even as a child, Goten showed glimpses having more potential than even Gohan. At only seven years old, he became a Super Saiyan just by sparring for fun. And when fused together, Gotenks was one of the strongest fighters in the entire universe.

"...Alright, then. Here goes!" Goten smirked. He then took a deep breath and let out a mighty roar as his power skyrocketed. "HRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

A wild golden aura erupted around the teenager's body while lighting violently sparked around him. Goten's muscles bulged somewhat while his shaggy hair stood completely upright, becoming sharp and jagged. First, Goten's eyes turned to an emerald green. Then, his dark black hair became the signature golden-yellow. The lightning increased in intensity as Goten didn't stop there and kept powering up until a burst of light shot from the teens body.

There stood Son Goten in a fully-powered Super Saiyan 2 state. The splitting image of his father. His facial features were relaxed and he was in complete control of his energy; a far cry from ten years ago when he had gotten carried away at the Tournament.

"How's this?" Goten asked, smirking slightly. “At first, it took a lot of rage to transform, like I had to picture Majin Buu hurting Mar or Mom again. But it’s easy now!”

"Amazing, Goten! Wow! I'm so proud of you!" Goku beamed with pride at how far his son has come. At only seventeen years old, Son Goten had mastered Super Saiyan 2. Goku wouldn't be surprised if he was on the edge of unlocking Super Saiyan 3!

"Me and Trunks are just about equals."

Equals?! They were equals? If that really was the case, Goku could truly put his worries about leaving the earth to the next generation to rest. "No wonder You got so strong so fast!"

"How would you compare us to Majin Buu? Like a ballpark."

"You mean the evil one? Hard to say exactly, but you're definitely stronger than Vegeta and I were at the time. If both of you attacked together at full power, you could have possibly beaten him before he split good from evil and lost most of his power. But you know more than anyone how unpredictable Buu can be. Even though he's good now, you have to be careful. If you get matched up against him, you can't afford many mistakes against a guy like that.”

Goten pumped his fists happily. "Right! Thanks, Dad! So, what now?"

"Power down to normal. Goku said and slipped into a fighting stance. "Let's have a quick spar. This time, no transforming.”

"Huh? Are you sure? But you'll kick my ass!"

"I wouldn't be so sure about that. I'm gettin' old ya know! Now come on.” 

Goten nodded and after a deep breath, his hair and eyes returned to their normal black color. He clenched his fists and then slipped into a fighting stance. “Just watch the gi, okay? It’s brand new, and I was hopin’ to surprise Mar with it.”

Goku smirked. “Sure. I’ll let you have the first move.”

“You’ll regret that!!” Goten instantly burst forward, appearing as only a blur. He swung a volley of powerful kicks directly at his father's face.

Goku smirked as dodged with ease but Goten was relentless. Kick after kick he didn't stop. That continued until Goku grabbed Goten by the leg, and prepared to counter. "Got ya."

"Not so fast!" With his other leg, Goten swung but that too was caught. Goten squirmed and fought to break loose, but Goku’s grip only tightened. Growling, Goten spread his arms wide, unleashing an Explosive Wave at point blank range. 

Goku was hit dead on and lost his grip, staggering back somewhat as Goten landed. "OWW! Good one! That actually hurt! But I'm not even getting started yet!" 

Goku vanished from sight and reappeared behind his son. Goten swerved around just in time to see his father pulling his fist back, ready to strike. 

However the blow went right through his son as if it were an illusion. 

“An afterimage...” Goku said, smirking.

Two copies of Goten reappeared to Goku’s side. Then, the real Goten appeared from above and swung a ferocious kick at Goku, but that too was nothing but an illusion. 

“W-What?!” Goten exclaimed and jumped backwards, searching around for his father’s energy.

“I invented that move! Ya gotta be better than that!!” Goku said from a few yards away, smiling mischievously with his arms crossed. 

Goten ran towards Goku again, but this time Goku vanished completely. The teen flipped backwards just as Goku came into sight, narrowly dodging the counter. Goten burst forward and immediately slammed Goku in the back of  the head, this time hitting finally it’s mark. 

Goku was sent careening down towards the ground, but he caught himself and safely landed on his own two feet. He winced, rubbing his head where Goten hit him. “He’s tougher than I remember!”

Goten continued his assault, flying down towards his father and firing multiple energy waves at Goku.

Goku deflected the blasts away from himself, sending the blasts far away from the fight to explode in the distance. Goten charged a bigger blast in his left hand, firing it directly forward. Goku stayed absolutely still, waiting for Goten's blast. At the last moment, Goten curved the blast up and it exploded into multiple blasts that shot in every direction, wildly zig-zagging around without any sense of direction or course. 

Goku watched each blast intensely, waiting for the right moment. 

“He’s distracted!” Goten blasted forwards, head first, at full force, slamming directly into Goku’s back. 

Pulling his arms back into the signature pose, Goten his hands together. “KAAAAA… MEEEEE…” The blue energy began to build as Goten’s ki spiked. “HAAAAA… MEEEEE…”

Goku recovered and came to a sliding halt on the grassy terrain. The Saiyan hadn’t felt this excited in years. Goku smirked and raised his power level to match Goten’s. Just then, Goten vanished. 

Goku’s eyes widened and crossed his arms over his face, just as Goten appeared in front of him.

“HAAAAAAAAAA!!!!”

The blast hit Goku dead on, creating a super massive explosion that could be felt all the way at the Son house from far away. 

Goten jumped backwards to gain distance. The teen hovered there, his senses on full awareness, waiting for his father to emerge from the smoke. A palm-tree hairstyle and bluish-green gi appeared through the smoke soon enough, completely unharmed. He was smiling! 

“I see you’ve finally mastered the Instant Transmission. Great work!” Goku grinned, folding his arms. 

The Instant Transmission technique. Goten had asked his father to teach him the attack about two years ago when he started his training. Right around the time he started dating Marron. Goten motives were as clear as day.

“Yeah! Thanks again!” Goten said.

“You won’t fool me twice with that move though. Come on, let’s keep going!”

“You bet.”

They rushed each other at the same time and collided. A powerful yet invisible tremor shook the area as their fists met. The father and son duo crashed blow for blow as they rose higher in the air. Their attacks grew more intense the higher they went.

Eventually they disappeared, and could only be seen by the tremors echoing throughout the grassy training grounds. 

At first, Goten traded blows evenly with his dad, countering each blow with ease. But as their struggle continued, Goku slowly raised his power and started overwhelming his father. He managed to land a crushing blow to the gut, making Goten falter. Goku went to punch him but Goten phased out of the way, reappearing some significant distance away and hid his energy singal. 

“Now’s my chance!”

Goten got into position and powered up to full. In an instant he pulled his hands back, charged two blue blasts of ki in his hands and fired. The beam exploded in a marvelous blue light, hitting its target dead on. “Gotcha.”

Goten waited for movement. But when the smoke cleared and Goku was gone! The teen growled when he saw his father simply dusting off his gi on the grass below. 

“Dammit! He’s not even hurt!” 

To Goku’s own surprise, he was just a bit out of breath.  ”If I’m not careful, he actually may get the advantage. He’s even further along in his training than I originally thought.” He smirked and then raised his hands close to the center of his face with his fingers spread out toward his eyes. “This was fun, Goten, but you’re not winning this fight.”

Goten braced himself and shut his eyes. “Oh crap!”

“SOLAR FLARE!”

A blinding white light exploded from the Saiyan father’s body as if a second sun was right there on the battlefield with them, covering everything in sight. 

Despite being temporarily blind, Goten’s other senses kicked into high gear. He felt where Goku was going to appear and attempted to counter, but missed every attack. Goku simply side-stepped or caught everything Goten threw at him. 

Goku smirked, reappearing right behind his son. "Come on! Focus! You're better than that, Goten!" He said right before flipping behind Goten and kneeing his son right in the back.

Goten was flown forward as he grunted from the impact of the hard hit, trying to regain control of his body as his sight finally began returning to him. 

Goku pursued his son, pounding him into the ground causing cracks and the ground itself to rise up from the impact. Goku then grabbed his son by the legs and threw him into the air. Goku flew straight up, stopping above Goten. He threw a punch at Goten but Goten managed to duck, countering with a jab to the gut.

Goku vanished and kicked his son upwards, and with a flare his energy unleashed a monstrous kiai that had Goten flying backwards, unable to recover. 

A boot connected with the boy’s face and he was sent shooting towards the ground yet again. 

“Try and stop this one!!” Goku cried and unleashed a volley of rapid-fire blasts. Goten’s head was still spinning from the kick, so he didn’t have time to block the dozens of golden Ki spheres that crashed into his body one after another seemingly without end. 

Finally, Goku built up one last, super-large energy ball for the final attack. 

Goten had just enough time to land on his feet and catch the ball of ki. He grunted as he felt himself being pushed back, but with a flare of his aura--almost turning Super Saiyan until he remebered the rule, managed to send it flying away. A massive explosion echoed from afar where the impact was. 

Goku floated above him with his hands on his hips, smiling proudly. 

Goten heaved and huffed, now feeling exhausted as if he sweat from his brow.  He really could have kept going, but decided against it and shook his head. “I’m done for now. You win....” He said and plopped down on the grass.

The fight was over. Goku grinned and flashed dual victory signs. “You did amazing, Goten. Really had me there!” 

“One of these days, I swear, the shoe is gonna be on the other foot!” Goten declared in between heavy breaths. At least his gi didn’t get ruined. 

“And I think that day will be sooner rather than later.” Goku smiled and sat down next to Goten on the grass as they waited for Panny to come back. 

Only six days remain until the 28th World Martial Arts Tournament begins!

[harryandmolly]

Complicit // 1

summary: Shawn is under more pressure than he’s ever known. He craves release and comfort, the simplicity of sex. He gets more than he bargained for.

warnings: language, NSFW, me writing Niall’s accent

WC: 6.7k

-----------

“So… are we talking like, full on whips and chains and nipple clamps and shit?”

Shawn’s eyebrows are lost somewhere in his hairline, but at least it’s more life in his eyes than Niall’s seen in a while. Niall tries not to go pink at Shawn’s assumption, but he’s still not that good at talking about all this.

“No, no, mate. I mean, some of ‘em do that. I think, I mean, based on what you pay for it, they’ll do whatever you want.”

Both guys go quiet and squirm a little uncomfortably. They’re sitting in Shawn’s living room in his $3 million bachelor pad, furnished very tastefully and expensively, talking about hiring sex workers. It doesn’t look or feel great.

Niall sighs. “It’s not like Pretty Woman. These girls don’t even charge by the hour. They’re escorts, not hookers. They’re educated and articulate and the kind o’ woman you could have on your arm at any industry schmoozing event and no one would bat an eye. That’s the whole point.”

Shawn nods thoughtfully. He’s heard of agencies like this, obviously. He’s been around the industry long enough to know guys like him, and producers and managers and agents and other high-powered men, aren’t driving down Hollywood Boulevard looking for $200 an hour streetwalkers. But that doesn’t mean Shawn’s ever remotely considered utilizing a service like this.

“But… they’re dominatrixes?”

Niall tips his head back and forth, squinting as he looks for the words. “They’re dommes. ‘S a bit different. La Splendeur is the name o’ the agency. They hire women that boss you around a bit, in some form or an udder. I mean, have you ever tried that?”

Shawn flushes a little and scrolls through his relatively short sexual history. “... sort of? Like, she’s on top?”

Niall sighs and closes his eyes with a wise smile. He has much to learn.

“‘S just a suggestion. La Splendeur is the best of the best. Super discreet. Beautiful. Interesting girls. And it’s better stress relief than I’ve found anywhere else.”

“Including golf?” Shawn quips.

Niall barks a laugh. “Including golf. I’ll leave you the number and you can decide. I really like Karina, but it might be weird knowin’ we’ve both had our hands in that cookie jar. Up to you, mate. Totally up to you.”

+

Shawn has never been so anxious about a phone call in his life. He goes through his phone and turns off location services first, suddenly paranoid that they could somehow track his device and be able to broadcast this for the whole internet. Plus, he’s busy with pre-festival run promo, so he’s forced to make the call in the middle of the day. 

He goes to great lengths not to be heard, very publicly excusing himself to the bathroom and then running off to a quiet conference room down a hallway that was deserted. He shuts himself inside, stands in the corner by the window and dials, hands shaking.

The voice on the phone is smooth and easy, probably used to dealing with nervous wrecks like him all the time. She explains how it works -- the rates, the wire transfer, the security, the booking. Selecting his date comes down to an emailed photo portfolio, password encrypted and accompanied by a very stern warning not to share it with anyone, even potential referrals. Shawn supposes that makes sense -- they don’t want these photos getting passed around without the safety net of knowing that in return, the agency has the client’s private email address.

He’s twitchy all day before he can get home to his laptop, kick off his Saint Laurent chelsea boots, and pick his date.

‘Date’ is how he’s trying to think about it. Niall encouraged that, too. Shawn texted to let him know that he’d made the call (less than 24 hours after Niall had made the suggestion). Niall was over the moon, reminding him that it’s supposed to be fun and he shouldn’t feel weird about calling. It’s like a guaranteed great first date, just… a really expensive one.

Shawn opens the email to a PDF of professional and truly stunning photos. Each girl has a short bio and a series of shots that really don’t feel at all like advertisement for sex. He takes note of Karina, Niall’s favorite, a short and curvy Filipino girl who apparently excels at tennis, loves to sail and has an MBA. Her photos are gorgeous -- her on a beach wearing a tasteful cover-up and a flower in her hair with just enough cleavage to catch a guy’s attention, standing beside a tall window in a snug dress and heels, and grinning on a tennis court, a cute candid.

In total, there are about 25 women on La Splendeur’s roster of sorts, more than Shawn expected. They’re incredibly diverse in terms of race, shape and size, all accomplished and learned and surprisingly non-threatening, given the niche service they provide. Only one had him scrolling back up to look at her again and again.

Penny, 26, has a master’s degree in criminal psychology, is fluent in four languages, is an excellent skier and has a German shepherd named Pamela. Her photos show her lying barefoot in a cocktail dress on a lounge chair with a look in her eyes that says she already knows everything about you, looking over her shoulder to laugh at the camera during golden hour from above the Hollywood sign, and his personal favorite, a black and white close up headshot. She doesn’t look to be wearing a stitch of makeup. Her hair is wet and slung over and around her face like it’s in the wind. Her lips are parted, her eyes are dark, and Shawn has to meet her immediately. 

Penny. Penny. Penny.

God, he can’t fucking wait. He’s so keyed up he actually grins at the change he gets from a barista at Commissary because she gives him back two cents.

His instructions are clear and concise. He is to get himself to the Chateau Marmont and head into the bar, where he will give his name. Someone will escort him up to his suite for the evening, where he will be greeted by security, who will confirm the receipt of the wire transfer and wait until his date arrives. Check out time is 11:30am the next morning.

The big guy who lets him into the room seems friendly enough, but Shawn is sure his every move is being watched by a hawk. Even with rich and famous clientele, agencies can’t afford to take risks with their employees. At least he doesn’t feel like a nervous kid being scrutinized by his prom date’s dad while he waits. In fact, the guy, Gus, he says, sees him shaking like a leaf and murmurs that the mini bar is fully stocked. He excuses himself to wait outside.

Shawn pours himself a glass of bourbon on the rocks and looks around. He’s never been in a room at the Chateau. It’s a bit odd -- almost too comfortable to be a hotel. There’s a full kitchen and vintage furniture that looks like it belongs in a warm, comfortable apartment rather than the stoic uniformity of a hotel.

He’s rattling ice in his glass anxiously and staring out at the lights of West Hollywood when the door opens. He’s just distracted enough not to stand immediately when she walks in, and he realizes a little late that it’s rude, so he scrambles to be upright and almost drops his fucking crystal glass.

She’s smiling warmly at him like they’re old family friends. It’s not clinical or superficial or forced. It’s a real smile, and it’s so beautiful. She’s so beautiful.

I mean, wow.

She’s medium height, 5’7” probably, but taller in her spiky heels. Her hair is lighter than he saw in the pictures, probably from the summer sun. Her olive skin is gorgeously bronzed. Her brown eyes are darker than his, like espresso. Her eyes are wide set and framed by well tamed thick brows. Her lips are full and European. Italian, he’d guess.

So why is her name Penny?

Shawn almost rolls his eyes at himself. He doesn’t know why that’s sticking in his head now, of all moments. Gus gives her a nod and shuts the door. As she approaches, graceful and quiet even in her heels, Shawn blinks, staring at the door.

“Is… uh, does he stand outside the whole time?”

Penny smiles again and cocks her head, shaking it. “No, no. He’s my driver, not my guard dog.”

Shawn gives a weak chuckle and it sounds pathetic to his own ears. At the mention of dogs, his mind springs to Pamela the German shepherd. He wonders if she’s real or a line in a bio to make Penny sound quirky and likeable. He watches her lift her sheath of thick hair over one shoulder and reach for the glass of bourbon in his hand to take a sip. He decides he doesn’t care.

“Please, have a seat,” she suggests, gesturing to the sofa. He blinks too much and plunks himself down, clearing his throat.

She lowers herself beside him, facing him with her arm stretched along the back of the couch toward him. She folds her ankles and for a second Shawn thinks about the scene in The Princess Diaries when Mia falls out of her chair trying to pull the same move. Penny emulates Queen Clarisse instead. Shawn tenses against his own will. He can feel himself shutting down.

Penny takes another sip of his drink and eyes him carefully from over the glass. She’s been doing this long enough to know when a guy is locking up in front of her eyes. 

It’s like Operation. You have to move slow and careful, or you get zapped. He could be the kind of guy that would respond well to her dropping her hand to his knee while they talk, or it could send him springing across the room. Penny follows her instincts and instead flicks her heels until her multi-thousand dollar shoes clunk onto the hardwood below her. She curls up her feet beside her and tilts her head to rest against her fist.

“How long are you in LA for?”

It’s one of her favorite safe questions. It offers potential to discuss work if he wants to go there, but is vague enough to offer him an out if he wants it.

“Uh, for another couple weeks. I’ve got some meetings and events and stuff and then I think I’m bouncing around. New York, maybe. I don’t know my schedule as well as I probably should.”

Well, at least he’s talking. She hands him back his glass with a wink.

“Schedule schmedule.”

Shawn smiles. It’s tentative still, but sweet. She made the right move by taking off a layer of the untouchable glamour.

It’s her move again. She considers the board, eyes her options, keeps her fingers delicate on the tweezers.

“I listened to your music this week.”

It’s a risky shot, like going for the funny bone. She already knows, can tell by the way he carries himself, that he’s here to work something out of his system. This appointment isn’t about satisfying a rakish curiosity or an ego thing, or worse, a sex addiction. He needs something from her -- comfort, release. If it’s his music that’s driving him to need her, mentioning it off the bat like this could do some damage to the trust she’s working to build. She holds her breath.

He lights up.

“Oh, cool. All of it?”

She wiggles her naturally shaped eyebrows. “Right down to “Something Big.””

Shawn winces playfully and laughs. It sounds real this time. “Yikes.”

“No, it was cute,” she insists, her fingers stretching out along the back of the couch to nudge at his very solid arm. He goes a little pink.

“Do you have a favorite?”

Shawn doesn’t mean to put her on the spot. For all he knows, she just googled his albums to have something to say. But he asks anyway, despite himself, because he’d like to know which, if any, of his songs caught the attention of a woman like her.

“I like “Particular Taste.” It came on in my car the other day while I was on Mulholland. It’s a damn good car song.”

Shawn feels himself get a little smug. “Thanks. I like that one, too.”

They’re watching each other quietly, feeling the tension build. Penny wets her lips and leans in, getting ready to speak again.

“So how long have you been doing this?” Shawn blurts. His eyes go a little comically wide before he course corrects and inspects his nearly empty glass.

Penny is startled, but tucks some hair behind her ear and regroups. “Almost five years.”

“Wow. That’s… wow.”

Penny shares a wise sort of smile that reminds Shawn uncomfortably of Emily. “It’s nice work if you can get it.”

“Right,” Shawn croaks, glancing away.

Penny feels the gentle sting of having nicked the board just a bit with her tweezers. She reaches out the arm against the couch and lets her fingertips skim his lush curls. His chest shudders and his eyes dart toward the window. He raises his shaky hand with the empty glass to his lips for something to do.

Penny drops her other hand to his knee, giving it a gentle squeeze. 

“Hey,” she murmurs, all honey, “Would you like me to refill that?”

Shawn looks down at his drink and shakes his head. “N-no, that’s ok.”

Penny swipes her tongue over the front of her teeth and decides to toss her playbook aside the way she does on rare occasions.

She scoots in, cups his cheek in her hand and focuses his eyes on hers. His jaw twitches under her fingers.

“What do you want, Shawn?”

He blinks quickly, startled that she said something, confronted him with the actual situation they’re dealing with.

“I’m… I don’t know. Can… can we just talk for a while?”

She eases back a little, drops her hands in her lap. “Of course. About anything in particular?”

Shawn bites the inside of his cheek, then says, “How did you get into… escorting?”

He emphasizes the last word as a question, unsure if he’s using the right terminology. She nods reassuringly.

“Well, around the time I was graduating from college, I met a girl at a party who recruited me, for lack of a better term. She told me about the money, the tips, the security, the gifts. Sounded pretty good to a 20-year-old without a post-grad plan.”

Shawn’s eyebrows lift. “You graduated college at 20?”

She shrugs. “I skipped the 4th grade and AP tested out of most of my freshman year.”

He’s impressed. And intimidated. He fights the instinct to curl him up into himself. He doesn’t want to feel small beside her. He wants to feel impressive, too.

“That’s pretty cool. Do you do this full time?”

Penny laughs. It’s light and airy and maybe just a little… restrained somehow.

“Yes. You’re very curious about my line of work.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be-- I mean, I just… Sorry--”

She stops him from stumbling all over himself by planting a hand around his wrist.

“It’s ok. I’m just not used to being asked. Most people… they don’t want to be reminded that they’re paying for it.”

As soon as she says it, she hears the mistake in her words. Fucking amateur bullshit, she scolds herself, watching him cave in. His eyes drop to his feet and his chest rises and falls a little harder.

“Hey,” she prompts gently, keeping her hands off this time for fear of sending him flying, “Don’t shut down on me.”

He looks back at her blankly. “Don’t…?”

She presses her tongue out to smooth along her lower lip. “I’m here to help make you feel good, Shawn. I’m excellent at knowing how best to do that, but I think I’m gonna need an assist from you this time. So just… don’t think, don’t act, don’t react, just feel it. And tell me what you want.”

“I want to cuddle.”

He says it so suddenly he surprises himself. Without missing a beat, Penny nods, formulating a new gameplan in her head. She bites her lip and reaches for his twitchy hand in his lap.

“Ok. I can do that. I just want to get comfy first, ok?”

Before he can wonder out loud what she’s going to change into and how she got clothes in here without him seeing, she leans in and presses her lips to his delicately. His frazzled brain lights up like the 4th of July, sending thoughts flying like out of control fireworks. He kisses back after a second or two, firm but chaste. He murmurs subtly into her mouth.

Small victories.

When Penny walks out of the bathroom five minutes later, her makeup is wiped clean, leaving her face a little shiny and flushed. She’s in touchably soft clingy leggings and a Lululemon hoodie, looking like an athleisure ad. She’s still barefoot, her white painted toes winking up at him before she drops onto the bed and waves him over. He makes to climb up next to her and she hisses, gesturing to him with a wave of her hand.

“I took off my armor, Mendes, you need to do the same.”

Shawn swallows and smiles shyly. He kicks off his shoes, balls up his socks and drops his jeans into a heap by the bed. In his taut navy t-shirt and custom printed Calvin Klein boxer briefs, he settles in beside her, mirroring her position on his side.

“Ok, cards on the table, I think. Bad breakup? Tour anxiety? Voice struggles?”

Shawn’s chest rises and falls heavily with a deep, unrestrained sigh. There’s no reason to hide from her. She doesn’t know him. She doesn’t have expectations. She’s a safe space.

He stares down at the curve of her hip as he speaks. He tells the story from what he thinks is the beginning -- Emily’s first mention of the idea of the PR relationship with Bex. He explains the strategy and the trajectory, that they expect to be in and out of the public eye throughout the summer festival run and will not-so-quietly break up just around the time his album releases in the fall and Bex heads out on tour for her brand new EP.

Penny nods along while he speaks, pursing her lips and shifting slightly closer to him. She’s not working consciously, not timing the seconds between movements like she sometimes does, like she did even just on the couch a few minutes ago. But as he talks, she feels the tension start to drip off him and release to the point where she has no hesitation in slipping her fingers into the tight, short curls at the back of his neck while she runs her toes up and down the back of his calf.

He seems comforted by being able to touch her, too. He rests a hand in the dip of her waist and it wanders slightly up her ribcage and upper arm, twisting his long pale fingers in her hair. He watches it curl and bend for him. He can’t remember the last time he played with a woman’s hair like this.

When his cursory explanation ends, he closes his eyes and rests his head on his folded arm. Penny’s fingers tug gently at the nape of his neck for his attention.

“Sounds like a lot.”

Shawn’s chest stutters. His eyes well. He turns his face into the pillow, embarrassed by the hair trigger of his emotional reaction.

“S-sorry, I just… fuck. I don’t know why I’m--”

He cuts himself off with a final unintended whimper of defeat, a nice bookend on a chunk of shame he can hang onto and revisit in his head when he needs it the least.

His eyes are snapped shut. The tears on his lashes start to wick into the expensive fabric of the pillowcase beneath his head. He’s waiting for her -- he doesn’t know what for. He’s waiting for her to leave him there to cry it out, get back in her expensive shoes and clack away from his misery. He’s waiting for her to shove a hand down his boxers and give him what she thinks he paid for. He’s waiting for her to hate him like he hates himself right now.

Slowly, timidly, he opens his eyes. She’s there, blinking at him, face as placid and reassuring as he’s seen since she got here. She doesn’t look ready to run. She doesn’t look at him like the pitiful creature he’s acting like. She slides her long fingers up further to cradle the back of his head and make his wet eyes flutter.

“Would you like to hear what I think?”

Shawn pauses, then nods.

Penny wets her lips. “I think maybe you’re not very good at compartmentalizing yet.”

Shawn frowns slightly and starts turning circles on her lower back with the pad of his thumb, nodding at her to continue.

“This relationship stunt doesn’t define you as a man or as an artist. It’s publicity, the same way appearing on GMA is publicity. It’s not as honest, maybe. I can see that’s part of what bothers you. I can understand that. But this is a means to an end. You’re not using Bex; she’s aware of what she’s involved in. She benefits, too.

“So instead of letting this become something that bothers you in quiet moments, makes you question what this makes you look like or even who this means you’re becoming, you need to accept that this is a part of your job and it’s not who you are.”

Shawn blinks dumbly. He’s been trying to convince himself of this for a while, but he’s never come close to sounding as soothing and confident as she does right now. This woman listened to him yammer for seven minutes about his stupid pop star problems without rolling her eyes or waving off his concerns.

Thank god he’s paying her to be here or he swears he’d already be half in love with her.

Shawn closes his eyes and nuzzles his cheek against the pillow. “Can I kiss you?”

“Yes you may.”

He opens his eyes and watches her, settled by the distinct sensation that she’s allowing him to proceed as he’s comfortable. At the same time, he’s deliciously unnerved by something lurking behind her eyes, like she’s deciding how long to give him before she takes over. He hopes it won’t be long.

Shawn cups a large palm around her cheek, marveling at the silkiness of her hair in his fingers as he leans in, brushing his lips over hers. He hears himself murmur gently at the slick warmth of her lip balm. It tastes like rose water and coconut. 

He eases back after a moment, his head spinning.

“Jesus Christ, that’s incredible.”

Her long, dark lashes lift and lower lazily, casting shadows on her cheeks in the lamplight. “Kissing me?”

He shakes his head, marveling with a gentle groan, “Yes. Why does kissing you feel like the best thing that’s happened to me in months?”

“It’s simple. It’s stable. It’s honest.”

She says it like she didn’t have to think about it. She’s unwavering and direct and he knows she’s probably really good at all this because of who she is and what she does but he doesn’t think he cares right now if it’s not genuine. It feels too fucking good.

He smirks. “Do you have an answer for everything?”

Her full lips spread in a lazy grin. “Yes.”

“Thank god,” Shawn mutters just before pressing his lips back to hers.

Shawn has no idea what to expect. It’s been what’s had him on a knife’s edge since he booked this appointment. His curiosity has been his friend while zoning out in meetings, standing in security lines at airports, stripped down to his boxers in front of a team of people while trying on show clothes. An experience like this to look forward to was an intense enough distraction from his anxiety.

And now, lying in a bed next to her with her perfect tongue tangled with his and her soft hands roaming his body hungrily, but with purpose, his mind races -- what will this be like? What will this feel like? Is it really as good as Niall says?

She pulls back suddenly, her lips leaving his with a wet smack. His hips rut against her stomach in response.

“Time for you to stop thinking,” she rasps. Shawn squirms at the fucked-out quality of her voice. Is it at all possible that he’s got her as worked up as she has him? He’s already throbbing for her in his briefs, which he knows she can feel against her thigh.

He brushes his nose against hers a little desperately, silently begging for more. Even with his eyes closed, he can tell she’s smiling when she cups his cheek and rolls their bodies so she’s lying slotted up against him in every way that makes him crazy.

“You like kissing, huh?” she breathes. It’s not teasing, not really. It’s curious and gentle. He can feel the way she takes note of the things that have him panting a little harder, pressing into her more insistently. It makes him feel important and a little bashful. He nods anyway, lifting the corner of his mouth.

“You’re a good kisser, Shawn,” she sighs into his mouth, dropping her weight into her hips and sliding her hands up his chest to rest over his pecs.

If her tongue wasn’t teasing his lower lip, he’d be grinning like an asshole.

His hands are growing frantic. They can’t decide where they like better -- her supernaturally soft hair, coursing up and down her spine, or resting on the toned swell of her ass. So they wander, getting grabbier as they go, until she pulls away again with a long lick of her wet lips.

“What are you going to do to me?”

He hears himself ask it over the rushing of blood in his ears. He can tell by the way she smiles down at him that he looks horrified at his own question. She pushes some curls off his forehead and looks him over, slowly, carefully, admiringly. Shawn is on fire beneath her, but she doesn’t seem to mind.

As if in slow motion, she tucks a hand under his neck. The motion fixes his manic, desperate eyes on hers. His breathing slows. His heart drops into his gut. His jaw tightens.

“Anything I want.”

Her voice is hot and sharp. Shawn’s face screws up like his body is physically overwhelmed by the idea of all the pleasure she can offer him. His eyes snap shut and the groan he releases is inhumanly loud.

When he can force himself to look back up at her, Penny has straddled his hips and works on lifting her hoodie up and over a black bra that he’s sure only a woman like Penny could wear… like that.

Her breasts are full and soft, as evenly tanned as the rest of her, from what he can see, which is not enough. He gets a flash of a vision of her lying on the chaise on the balcony outside their Chateau suite without a stitch on her, sipping a mimosa and smiling when she catches him admiring her. He grunts and reaches for her, needing to take and touch and taste.

His hands are pinned beside his head before he gets far. He gasps. His eyes blur with her quick movement until they can refocus and realize she’s holding him down, her breasts a breath away from his mouth.

“Fuck,” he grunts.

“Listen to me.”

It’s clear and stable and calm like a beacon in a storm. Shawn juts his chin up defiantly, licking his lips.

“You don’t touch me until I tell you to. If you do, you don’t touch me at all, not for the rest of the night. Do you understand?”

Shawn’s fingers curl into fists beside his head. His body aches, straining for the control she’s sapping from him. He’s not used to willingly giving it up, not anywhere, not for anyone.

“Take a deep breath,” she advises, feeling him struggle with the release of it, of the reins he’s held for so long his hands are fucking raw. His whole body feels raw looking up at her.

He does as he’s told. Her eyes are nearly black in the low light. He feels his shoulders soften and the squeezing of his heart start to slow, just a bit.

“You’re gonna have to walk me through this,” he grunts, shaking his head, “I-- I’m… for so…”

“I know,” she soothes, not to placate him, not to baby him. She wants him to know she understands. He feels it in the way she looks at him, the way she massages her fingers around his wrists. 

He’s ok. He’s safe. He’s safe with her. It hits him all at once like a brick over the head. He swallows.

“I’m here to take care of you. I want to make you feel as good as I possibly can.”

He nods again.

She moves slowly, gracefully, like a lithe and dangerous predator. She pushes her leggings down her hips, sliding them off her feet until they’re forgotten in a pool at the end of the bed. His shirt and boxers join them, leaving his cock aching and leaking from the tip on his lower belly. He lies beside her, as instructed, with his arms over his head, grasping a pillow in his needy fingers.

She just… touches him. 

He thought at first she was just going for a slow tease, would wrap her warm fingers around his cock after thirty seconds or so to get him somewhere, but that doesn’t seem to be the plan. He’s flat beside her, legs slightly spread, tensing and relaxing with each brush of her fingertips.

Before long, he realizes what she’s doing and it stuns him into holding his breath for so long that the gasp he releases when he remembers he needs oxygen makes her jump a little.

She’s studying him. She wants to know every inch of his body, wants to see how every subtle touch affects him. She is reading him like an instruction manual. Her eyes flicker, narrowing and darting and taking it all in. She can see every goosebump, every subtle lift of his hips, every intake of breath, every clench of muscle and little smile when she finds somewhere ticklish. By the time her scan seems complete, he’s panting, shaking, vibrating with need, and he knows she knows his body better than he does now.

And she gets to decide what to do with it.

From beside him, keeping her eyes on his, Penny reaches back and unclasps her architecturally stunning bra, draws the straps down her arms, and drops it off the side of the bed, revealing what Shawn had suspected to be the most perfect pair of breasts of all time. He was right.

“God, you’re gorgeous,” he hisses, pressing his head back into the pillow to keep from lunging at her stiff brown nipples. He’s rewarded for his compliment with a sweeping hand down his stomach, her fingertips just skimming the line of pubic hair that reaches down from his navel. His hips roll up in response.

Penny turns. Shawn watches her hair swing low against her back like a pendulum, entranced before he realizes she’s standing and bending over to shed her black lace cheeky panties. He remains still, his head turned toward her as she bares herself, until she turns back and faces him and he chokes on air.

He’s seen beautiful women naked. Plenty of them. Really, he has. He knows somewhere in his addled mind that it’s the performance of it that has him so fucking high strung that he almost coughs up a lung when he sees Penny without clothes, that he really, legitimately feels like he’s going to have a heart attack just from looking at her. 

But he’s never been so goddamn hard in his life.

She takes a step toward the bed and lifts her leg to climb up next to him. He realizes with a jolt as he watches her legs separate that she’s soaking fucking wet. The insides of her thighs are slick. Shawn presses his heels into the bed to ground himself.

You can’t fake that.

Without a word, she positions herself on top of him, her strong legs on either side of his hips, her hands sunken between pillows by his head. Their eyes are locked. Shawn’s cock shifts against his stomach impatiently. Penny lifts a corner of her soft wet mouth. Shawn chokes on a whimpering sound he’s never heard himself make before. She drops her hips and he hears himself gasp.

“Oh!” he cries, throwing his head back as his hips thrust up to meet her. He vaguely feels the warmth of her lips on his chest, but he’s busy trying to fight back his orgasm that, with just the pressure, warmth and wetness of her pussy resting against his length, is roaring up in his abdomen.

“J-jesus… fuck…” he hisses, rolling his head to the side, sure if he looks down at her pretty face he’ll be coming like a freight train before she even has the chance to really do anything.

“You’ve never felt anything like this before,” she tells him smoothly. It doesn’t smack of arrogance or condescension. It’s simple fact. They both know it.

He shakes his head no, panting breath into the pillowcase.

“You never knew it could be like this.”

Again, he’s agreeing.

“I want you to remember this, what this feels like with me in your lap, wet for you, showing you how this can feel with me. I want you to look at me. Don’t take your eyes off me, Shawn.”

Another purring whimper escapes his throat. Slowly, he peels his sweaty cheek from the pillow and blinks down at her. There’s something feral that’s taken the place of what he saw in her before -- the white painted toes, the cozy hoodie, the gentle giggles. This part he sees now is going to swallow him whole. He’s going to let it, with pleasure.

Penny rolls her hips from left to right, swinging back again easily, with the rhythm of a dancer. The sound their bodies make is absolutely obscene. He grits his teeth through a hiss, watching her eyes flutter.

“You feel… incredible,” she pants slightly, establishing a slow, aching pace that makes Shawn’s brows draw together and his knuckles whiten against the pillow.

“I don’t know how long I can--”

“Don’t worry about that. I’ll tell you when you can come.”

She says it easily, like he’s in no danger of losing his fucking mind and spurting all over her stomach in probably only a few seconds. He realizes with a shiver it’s because she knows, for certain, without a shadow of a doubt, that he won’t come until she tells him.

“You’re so nice and hard for me, fuck. Touching you got me so wet. Can you hear us?”

Shawn is quaking, clinging to sanity, as her slick folds hug his cock, grinding harder with each pass of her hips. He doesn’t trust himself to speak anymore. He has no idea what could come out of his mouth at this point. He just nods eagerly, begging his eyes to stay open so he can obey her.

“Can you feel the way the head of your cock is rubbing my clit?” she nearly squeaks, sounding genuinely as close to orgasm as he is. His eyes go wide. His stupid mouth opens.

“Are-- are you gonna come like this?”

Holding her quick rocking pace, Penny springs up, snapping at his lower lip like a snake. He freezes, whining, and very nearly loses control of his tensed arms.

“Fuck yeah, I am,” she moans, and it’s the only warning he gets before her whole body goes tight atop him and she gushes all over his cock and thighs.

“Holy fuck, holy fucking shit,” Shawn gasps, rolling his hips to cradle her as she stutters through it, mewling and humming against his chest. He watches her eyes squeeze shut and open again slowly, looking up at him like she forgot he was there.

In the stillness, the room is so quiet, it’s loud. Shawn feels every cell in his body screaming, begging.

Penny licks her lips and shifts, getting ready to bear down. “You can come now.”

His hips take off at a sprint with her permission. She keeps up easily, using her weight in her knees to drive herself back against his every stroke, egged on by the wet slap of their skin and the glazed look in his eyes.

“Penny, I’m coming,” he warns her, because he feels like he should and he doesn’t know quite why other than he thinks she craves her permission for everything now. She squeezes her swollen lower lip under her row of straight white teeth and watches curiously, doubling down on the stroking of her hips.

“Shit! Oh fuck!” Shawn screams, hips roiling and rioting beneath hers as he comes hard, spurting against her swollen folds and between their clenching stomachs. His vision goes white. He can’t hear himself if he keeps talking, or yelling, and he can’t hear her if she’s trying to soothe him through it. It’s several seconds before he crash lands to feel her peeling her body off his and sees her shifting back over his thighs.

He doesn’t have time, or the mental capacity, to speak before she reaches between her legs and swipes a hand through her wetness and his. Her palm is slick, glistening in the low light. She reaches for his tired cock and gives it a squeeze.

“I want one more.”

His eyes bulge. “What?”

“One more, Shawn. Come again for me. You’ve been waiting for this for a week, I know you have it in you. Now fuck my fist and come for me.”

Shawn’s jaw drops as she pulses her fingers again. Despite everything he thought he knew about his own body, he feels himself already starting to harden in her palm again. He groans loudly, pulls his shaky legs so his feet plant below him, and starts lifting his hips.

“Ohmygod. Oh… oh my god,” he pants, eyes wild as they fix on her in disbelief. How did she know? How does she have this much power over him already? How does he make sure she never gives it back?

“Yes,” she praises, looking ravenous as his hips pick up speed and he grows fully hard in the clench of her fist, “Fuck, you’re so fucking good for me.”

His head tips back. He mewls a noise of overwhelmed pleasure and fucks his hips up even harder.

“Jesus Christ, I’m gonna fucking come again!” he shouts, pupils blowing out as he comes up on his forearms and bucks his entire lower body, quaking as he hurtles toward a second orgasm.

Penny lurches forward, swallowing the scream she knows is building in his chest with a searing kiss. His abdomen clenches as he bursts for her again, drenching her fist and his belly. It’s shorter and rockier than the first orgasm, sending him falling back to the bed totally limp and sated in only a few seconds. Penny mercifully releases him from her fist, using her other hand to smooth through his hair.

She’s concerned for a minute that she broke him. He just keeps staring at her, blinking too slowly, not speaking. She presses little kisses over his face, partially to encourage him, and maybe a little bit to distract herself from trying to make him come again because holy shit, she loved that.

“Never done that before,” he mumbles finally, his eyes sliding shut, like he’s finally secure enough to close them and believe she’ll still be sitting there when he does.

She nods, though he can’t see her. On her own wiggly legs, she manages to stand and get a wet washcloth from the bathroom. When she returns to wipe him off, he’s blinking at her curiously.

“Can I touch you now?”

She grins. “Yes you may.”

Shawn smiles gently. His eyes slide shut. He lifts a heavy palm to her thigh, rubbing her soft bronzed skin in a tender gesture of thanks. 

Penny tosses the cloth aside and folds up against him, manipulating his arm around her as she lies against his chest.

“Wanna see you again,” he whispers. She bobs her head.

“Anytime you want.”

He presses his face into her hair, inhaling expensive salon shampoo and exhaling at least three months’ worth of stress. He’s asleep in under ten minutes. She decides to let him rest and behaves herself enough not to wake him up for round two (or three, technically) for at least an hour.

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This is gonna be a wild one, guys. If you’re so inclined, the link to buy me a Ko-fi is in my bio!

Taglist: @smallerinfinities @the-claire-bitch-project @achinglyshawn @infiniteshawn @mendesoft @singanddreamanyway @alone-in-madness @abigfatmess @shawnitsmutual @awkwardfangirl2014 @september-lace @grittyisaho @sinplisticshawn @rollingxstone @yslsaint @randi-eve @fallmoreinlove @heyits-claire @itrocksmysocks @parkerspicedlatte @simpledomain @abeautiful-and-cloudy-day @thecurlsofgod @magcon7280 @bensbuttercup @tnhmblive @greedydevil

[mythiica]

A-Z NSFW headcanons for Kiro from Love and Producer / Mr. Love Queen’s Choice please :))

Title: A-Z NSFW AlphabetFandom: Mr. Love Queen’s ChoiceCharacter: KiroGenre: HONHONHONWarnings: MUCHO HONHONHONKinks: all of themIntended Gender Audience: Female Audience Word Count: 1379 wordsPOV: second personOther comments: WOW okay this was fun af to write – some things are pretty short, but others might have more detail! 

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Wants cuddles and will give you massages, even if you don’t ask for it

Depending on how tired you are, he will draw a romantic bath for the two of your to share 

The bath would be complete with candles and epsom salts 

Kiro praises you continuously and gives you many kisses as well

Ready to offer you something from his collection of snacks (somehow hidden under the bed?)

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s

He takes pride in his hair, how fluffy it is, and deep down he likes to see the blond bouncing as he fucks you because it is a measure of how hard he’s going 

Kiro knows that he looks cute, but he’s got a devilish side as well when he can show off

Safe to say that Kiro really can’t pick a favorite body part of yours because he loves all of you

Perhaps he is impartial to your soft lips, especially when they are slightly swollen from sucking on… well you know what

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically…)

Gets all giddy when he cums on your chest, it probably makes him hard again to see the white dribbling down your chest

He’s got natural charm, but likes it when you ask him to cum on you

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Has fantasized about taking you on set props 

Like a throne he had for a music video: plus and red, he wanted to lay you over his lap and finger you as you grinded against the velvet 

Considered doing it, but decided it probably wasn’t sanitary (and would leave stains) 

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

He might seem like he doesn’t have experience, but he knows his way around certain toys 😏 

Kiro has had sex before, a few attempts here and there, but he is often busy with work anyways 

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

You sitting on the edge of the bed, legs spread, him thrusting into you as you lean back

He likes it when you wrap your legs around him and hold him close 

Anything that allows him to see your face is amazing, but will occasionally opt for doggy style

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

Goofy boy or serious daddy, sometimes there is no inbetween 

He will crack a joke if there is a not-so-sexy sound

Expect tickle fights to turn into sex, and sometimes visa verse

When he does get serious, he’s in The Zone™

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

Ultra groomed and matching! 

Has made jokes about dying it different colors though (please no, Kiro)

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…) 

Kiro considers sex to be really intimate with you 

He pushes everything else out of his mind, whether it is something about work or the future, he wants to be in the moment and share it with you

The romantic aspect can be super heightened, but he sees “casual” sex (no fanciness added) to be just as special as going full out with special things 

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

Has become the master of getting off quickly because his day is scheduled to the minute 

Quite enjoys getting off in the shower: any mess is cleaned up quickly, temperature play is fun to do, and feels twice as awake after doing it

Won’t really take the risk of doing anything where he films unless he can’t resist 

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Cosplay: especially if it’s one of his favorite characters or you’re wearing something of his, very much a turn on and he likes it

Kiro indulges in buying cheap cosplay outfits and dramatically rips them apart to expose your body

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

Bed - feels the most ‘at home’ and comfortable because he can focus on you and you alone; also considers how loud its creaking as a measure of his strength 

Occasionally his dressing room (if you convince him) 

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Motivated by you

Not much else to say that Kiro loves you and fantasizes about you often, so any opportunity to do the do with you is something that will motivate him to finish his other work faster

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Would never want to do something you are not comfortable with

The first few times the two of you are intimate, Kiro is constantly making sure that you feel alright and are not in pain

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

Is down to give or receive, but has a special place in his kinky heart for giving 

Kiro may be known for singing, but hearing your voice when you cry in pleasure because of what he’s doing– it makes him so happy (and hard) 

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

Depending on what type of sex it is, Kiro can go fast and hard or slow and sensual

If you’re particularly into one or the other, just ask! Kiro is understanding and will give you what you want

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Impartial per say

If the mood is set, but there is not a lot of time, Kiro would not be opposed to having a quickie

Usually happens in his dressing room or a nearby closet

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

Probably too shy to do something ultra risky publicly

If it’s experimenting with toys or different positions, Kiro will be very excited to try things!

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

Depending on what he did that day, Kiro can give up to 2/3 rounds of oral, or a full out session where he uses all of his energy

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Kiro has a few toys that he knows how to use on himself, but he wants to learn how to use them on you

Wouldn’t mind you using it on him, but might ask for it in moderation

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

When Kiro gets into his Serious mode, he can be very unfair and tease you a lot

Teasing can be in the form of edging or simple dirty talk teasing

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

Vocal baby

Whether he is subbing or domming, topping or bottoming, Kiro tends to make a lot of noise

Depending on what is happening, Kiro can moan, groan, mewl, pant – it’s a colorful array of sounds, all showing the pleasure he is experiencing 

He likes showing off vocally because it’s a measure of the pleasure he’s feeling

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

Kind of enjoys it when you roll condoms onto him (more so than him putting them on himself)

Makes him get all giddy like oh yes we are doing this

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

Picture-esque cock, pretty pale but with a blushing tip 

Not super veiny, but slightly above average length + slim

Has a pretty pronounced (and sensitive) ridge

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Medium to high sex drive but you can boost it by doing something that turns him on

Would consider it a treat to spend a fully day just having sex on and off 

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards) 

Probably takes a while to fall asleep usually, but of course it depends what happens during a session

If he worked all day and then made love to you, expect him to pass out quickly (without meaning to) but he will 100% nuzzle against your touch even in his sleep

[therainroguefanfiction]

⁂ Blue Skies (Woozi/Jihoon Lee)

Genre: Supernatural, Crack, Fluff, Crossover, Romance ☁

Word Count: 2,598 ☁

Pairing: Reader x Jihoon ☁

World: Seventeen & NCT ☁

Prompt: “I’m too pale for this.”

Author’s Note: This was heavily inspired by a story that @prettywordsyouleft​ told me as well as that one episode of Bleach where they go a beach trip. This fic is dedicated to Sem and Chelle♥

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It was the beginning of June, a time for building bonds and having fun. On one particularly hot day, you found yourself at the beach alongside a large group of friends and your lovely boyfriend. The day started out pretty normal.

Around noon, your boyfriend called you up and announced that Seventeen would be going to the beach in an hour. He didn’t sound pleased at this at all, thinking of a thousand and one ways he’d rather spend the day. Jihoon was a workaholic by nature and he’d prefer sitting in the studio working on a new song rather than sitting on the hot sand. Although you preferred summer over winter, you weren’t fond of being burnt to a crisp under the sun, but if all your friends were going, you knew you’d regret not meeting up with them. It had been a few days since you last saw your boyfriend and several weeks since you had seen your good friends, Chelle and Sem.

Thirty minutes after his phone call, a van pulled up in front of your house, driven by one of Seventeen’s managers. You knew it was only one of several vehicles considering the size of the group. Minghao was sitting up front with Mingyu and Seungkwan taking the second row of seats. Vernon and Jihoon were in the back, leaving a spot for you between them.

After getting assaulted with hugs by Seungkwan and Minghao, you settled into your seat and their manager started toward the beach. Even with the A/C on, the van was warm, but you briefly wondered if the two bodies on either side of you had anything to do with that.

Jihoon shifted, resting his head on your shoulder as his hand found yours, fingers lacing together. With a smile, you pecked his forehead.

A bright flash filled your vision as Seungkwan snapped a picture of you both, cooing like he was watching a novella. Jihoon glared at him but muttered under his breath for him to forward the picture.

“We’re here!” The van pulled into the packed parking lot and you felt yourself frowning. There were so many people there that you were starting to feel anxious.

Jihoon squeezed your hand, his voice soft and reassuring. “It’s okay, I’m here.”

Having such an amazing man by your side was certainly helpful, but it didn’t erase the anxiety completely. Something just felt off and your momma had always taught you to listen to your gut.

You helped the boys carry their items as they searched for the rest of the group, weaving in between families and groups of teenagers. They were at the far end of the beach, which was a bit less crowded but still decently filled with people.

The sky was as blue as the water, not a single cloud around to stop the sun from beating down upon the earth. You could feel the rays penetrating your skin. ’I’m far too pale for this,’ you thought, resisting the urge to sigh as you rubbed your arms.

Jihoon plopped down onto the towel as soon as you placed it over the sand, arms folded behind his head as he closed his eyes. You chuckled at him, pecking his cheek. He may not be happy about being away from work, but at least he could use this time to get some rest.

Chelle and Sem pulled you into a hug when they saw you, happy to catch up over the happenings of the past few weeks. It always felt refreshing talking to them. They energized you and helped you relax despite the stressful environment of being around so many strangers.

Hoshi came up behind Chelle, his arm around her waist as he greeted you with a smile. You didn’t miss how her cheeks dusted with pink. “Who’s up for some volleyball?”

“Sorry, I’m waiting to enter the sandcastle contest. It’s starting soon.” Sem declined the offer.

“I’m just un-athletic.” You shrugged, sticking your tongue out at Jihoon when he laughed.

You parted ways with them, promising to meet up later in the evening. “I’m thirsty, wanna come with me to get something?”

In response, he held his arms out, wanting you to pull him to his feet. Jihoon wasn’t the thinnest person in the world, but his short stature and slim body meant he wasn’t very heavy. Or perhaps you were just stronger than average.

You pulled him up with ease and he thanked you with a smile, lacing your hands together as you walked towards the drink bar. The seating area was covered by a roof to block the sun, but there were no walls, leaving it open. The actual bar where the drinks are made was a small shack made of dark oak wood.

“Can you get me some lemonade? I’ll grab us a table.” Jihoon offered and you nodded, watching as he picked a table at the front, right next to the support beam.

Most of the customers ordered their drinks and returned to their groups, but several decided to hang out under the roof, allowing the area to buzz lightly with conversation and laughter. The customer in front of you got her order and you stepped forward, pulling out some cash from your wallet.

“Can I take your order?”

Why did that voice sound so familiar? You looked up, meeting the soft brown eyes of the one and only Mark Lee. He smiled brightly when he realized it was you.

“Ah, hello Y/N!”

“Mark? What are you doing here?”

“The owner’s son didn’t show up for his shift and he desperately needed someone to fill in. I was happy to help, plus I get free watermelon!”

You chuckled at his excitement. “I meant why you’re here at the beach.”

“Doyoung hyung wanted to see Sem, so he begged our manager until he finally agreed. The rest of NCT is here too, somewhere.”

The older woman behind you cleared her throat rudely, glaring at the both of you.

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. “I’ll keep an eye out for them. I’d like to order a lemonade and a coke, please. Both medium.”

He took the money with a smile, not affected by the woman’s rudeness. “Coming right up!”

You stepped to the side as you waited for your drinks, catching Jihoon’s gaze as he scanned the room. He smiled at you softly and you felt your heart skip a beat.

Throughout your years of life, you had dated many different people, always on the search for your own true love. You were a hopeless romantic and just wanted to find your soulmate, but none of the relationships ever lasted more than a few weeks. They just weren’t the right fit for you, despite how lovely they actually were.

You were twenty years old when you first found Seventeen on YouTube and you instantly fell in love. Their songs never failed to make you smile and you loved how talented and hard-working the members were. They had great chemistry that warmed your heart and drowned you in feels. It was easy to choose your bias in the group – from day one, Jihoon had caught your eye, demanding your attention. You’d always have to watch their music videos multiple times because you’d find yourself focused solely on him and not the content itself. He was gorgeous, his personality was great, he was hardworking, talented and clearly cared deeply for the other members.

In your eyes, he was absolutely perfect.

A year and a half later, you learned that Chelle was dating Soonyoung, one of Seventeen’s many members. Knowing about your crush on the short boy, she offered to introduce you to the group, to which you nervously but excitedly said yes.

It had been like a fairytale, honestly. As soon as you entered the room, your eyes snapped to him without having to search. His gaze met yours and it felt like everyone else vanished. The room had gone silent and he was the only thing you could focus on.

Jihoon had always been the type of person that didn’t believe in love at first sight. When it came to soul mates, he neither believed nor disbelieved in it – he simply never gave it any thought. But on that day, he learned that he had been very much wrong. The rest is history.

Even after nearly two years of being together, you still felt like you were falling in love with him all over again every time your eyes met or when he smiled at you so softly. If you were dreaming, you never wanted to wake up.

“Y/N~” A cold drink was pressed against your cheek and you startled, whipping around to face a grinning Haechan as he leaned over the counter.

You returned the smile as you took the two plastic cups. “Couldn’t resist helping, huh?”

“What can I say, I’m an angel~”

“I need two pink lemonades and a sweet tea!”

“On it!” Haechan called, sending you a wink before getting back to work.

You went to sit across from Jihoon but he gently grabbed your arm, guiding you onto the metal chair beside him.

“The only good thing about this trip is I get to be with you.” He murmured into your ear, pressing his soft lips below your jawline.

Butterflies erupted in your belly and you couldn’t stop the giggle that escaped your throat. “Things have been so busy lately, we haven’t had much time together.”

He hummed when your fingers slid through his blonde hair, gently caressing his scalp. “We could always go somewhere a little more private.”

“Like where?” You breathed out. “Everywhere is crowded.”

His hand rested on your thigh, hot breath fanning across your neck as he spoke in a low baritone. “I’m sure I can find a place.”

Before you could respond, a terrified scream pierced through the air, making both of you tense up. “What the hell was that?”

Jihoon stood, eyes narrowing at the expanse of beach. “I don’t know.”

More screams filled the air as people started to run away from the opposite end of the beach. Dread filled you as you realized something important – that’s the direction Soonyoung and Chelle had gone! Without a second of hesitation, you bolted in the direction of the screams, ignoring Jihoon’s frantic calls.

What you found made your eyes widen in shock.

Close to shore yet not quite on land was a giant octopus, towering over you. Its tentacles were swinging wildly through the air, smashing against the sand as they attempted to grab the last of the fleeing beachgoers.

“Y/N!” A terrified yell of your name and your eyes snapped up, landing on Chelle. One of the tentacles was wrapped tightly around her body, swinging her through the air. Another had latched tightly onto Soonyoung, holding him upside down as he beat it with his fist. “Run away! It’s dangerous!”

Your eyes darted around the beach, looking for something you could use as a weapon. Jihoon finally caught up to you, taking a second to catch his breath.

“Here,” he held out his hand, revealing a sheathed sword.

“Where did you – ”

“That’s not important. We have to help them.” He met your eyes and his determination and courage transferred to you. You nodded, pulling the blade from its sheath and steeling your resolve. A tentacle launched towards you but you managed to sidestep it, using the momentum to leap onto it. With a war cry fit for an anime, you stabbed the sword into its flesh before taking off, forcing the blade to split the tentacle in two.

The beast roared in pain, the swings getting more aggressive and harder to dodge. It swung around, slamming into the metal and forcing you backward, your bare feet digging into the hot sand. You struggled, using all of your might to push back, but the tentacle didn’t move an inch – you were stuck in a deadlock.

Jihoon cried out as he ran towards you, slicing through the tentacle before it could break your defenses. The sword he held was identical to your own.

“I… I don’t think I’m strong enough to defeat it, Jihoon.”

He set the blade down, gently cupping your face. “You’re stronger than you could ever imagine, love.” He leaned in to kiss you but he violently jerked away by the monster.

“Jihoon!” Your eyes jumped between your three friends as they struggled against their binds. You didn’t know what to do. Were you strong enough?

’You must believe in yourself, Y/N!’

“Sem?”

A corporeal Sem appeared beside you, smiling as her hand rested over your own which was gripping the blade tightly. “I will lend you my power, but it’s useless if you don’t believe in yourself.”

You took a deep breath, closing your eyes tightly, ’I can do this. I WILL do this. I’ll defeat this beast and rescue my friends!’

Sem’s body broke into particles that the sword absorbed. Your body started to glow the same ethereal blue that hers had and you felt your power level rising. You could feel it, the energy coursing through your veins. With one final yell, you took off at full speed, leaping into the air with the sword raised above your head.

“LET MY FRIENDS GO!!” You screamed, bringing the sword down with all your might. The blade sliced the creature down the middle and it jiggled for a few seconds before expanding. It’s skin burst, sending green goo flying everywhere. The tentacles exploded one by one, sending your friends falling to the Earth below.

Jihoon did a flip, landing on his feet. Soonyoung tried to mimic it but belly-flopped the sand, Chelle falling on top of him. Sem materialized out of the sword, rushing to check on her best friend.

With a relieved sigh, you fell to the ground, looking up at the blue sky. Jihoon plopped down beside you before throwing his body over yours. You would have chuckled if not for the foul-smelling goo that covered you both.

“I’m so proud of you, baby girl.” He whispered, his lips ghosting over yours. “I knew you could do it.”

Your cheeks tinted, fingers curling around the hem of his swim trunks. “I couldn’t have done it without you guys. All of you gave me the strength I needed.”

He smirked, rubbing his thumb across your cheek. “In that case, I think I deserve a reward, don’t you?”

You leaned up to press your lips against his but he pulled back, suddenly chuckling in an evil manner. “Umm, Jihoon, what’s wro – ”

His eyes started to glow a neon green as his laughter grew in volume.

“Get away from him!” Sem cried. “He’s been infected!”

Before you could react, his hand covered your eyes and everything went black.

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With a yelp, you sprung up in bed, breathing heavily as you frantically patted yourself down – there was no trace of the green goo.

Jihoon groaned from beside you, still half asleep. “What’s wrong?”

“I… I had a weird dream…” You muttered, resting a hand on your sweaty forehead.

He reached up, throwing his arm across your chest and pulling you back down against the satin sheets. His face nuzzled in your neck, his leg swinging over your own. “I told you not to watch anime before bed.”

“Right…” Although your body relaxed, you couldn’t help but wonder why the dream had felt so vivid, so real.

Little did you know, Sem and Chelle had experienced the exact same dream.

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