#put them through the horrors! dress them up in fancy costumes! let them have a spoopy time! 😈

[hetaween-event]

Are the rules the same as last year? I wanted to participate last year, but my otp was against the rules, so I was wondering if anything had changed..

hi anon, you might have us muddled for the @hetalia-rarepairweek event, which is an event that has a list of banned ships, to our understanding. you should check out their blog for more info!

with hetaween, all ships are welcome! the rules will be published later this month, but generally speaking we have no real rules on what character or ships you can include in your contributions to the event! our rules will likely focus more on content themes instead! i hope that clears things up a bit for you! 🧡

[kippykasey]

Double Trouble

Summary: Who knew a vampire, Freddie Kruger, and Ghost face could have so much fun?

Word Count: 1021

Characters: Sam and Colby and Reader

More spoops from Kippy's Spoopy Saturdays

Halloween parties aren’t normally a thing you normally do. At lease not since you were younger. Now you are dragged along with your friend to not only a party but a block wide event. One house had a haunted ‘barn’ maze set up in the large side lawn. There was a whole garage decked out as a witch hut where the drinks were being stored and handed out. There was one house specifically set up to entertain the teens. A projector was set up playing the horror classics. Lights, music, smoke effects where everywhere. Which is probably how you lost your friend with in the first hour of arriving.

Your hand clutched onto your drink of choice as you slowly walked around trying to find your unaccounted for friend. You admired the different themes and the fancy technical displays. Every time you thought you seen them it just ended up being a stranger. After a while of looking you just gave up and sat on the edge of a stone wall between the projector set up and the road that was packed with people dancing.

Someone dressed in the black gown and hooded mask of Ghostface, calmly leaned against the wall next to you. “Waiting for someone?” The deep voice confirmed that this was most definitely a male.

Your head tilts to look over at him. “Nah I lost my friend already. Not really used to all this.” You gestured to the surrounding area with the hand holding your drink, the liquid swirling around.

“Well we can’t just let you sit on a wall all night like some kind of gargoyle. Colby.” He stands up straight, his arm draping over your shoulders as he holds up his hand.

You shook his hand and introduced yourself before Colby gives you a nudge to get off the wall. You get off your perch and were instantly guided through the crowd and towards the witch hut where you run into a blonde wearing a signature stripped shirt the recognizable burn scar mask tucked under his arm as he got himself a drink. “Sam I adopted a vampire.” Colby jokes making the blonde turn to look over with a smile.

You introduce yourself to Sam and he passes a drink to Colby who stepped away from you to remove his mask. With both of them not wearing a mask you recognized the two from their ghost hunting youtube channel. “I see why you’re wearing the masks.” You comment looking between them. They looked at each other before turning back to you.

The three of you head off to the side where some picnic tables were set up for the food that was available earlier. You sat around one of the tables each with your own drink. “So you recognized us huh?” Sam looked up at you as he sips his drink.

“Honestly now that I know its you I would have known Colby by his name and face alone but I thought it was a voice changer or something. Not to mention I don’t really know too many people with the name Colby. Realistically I would have overlooked what you guys but I was watching your videos while getting ready to come.”

Colby chuckled and you three talked for a while before agreeing to walk through the fake barn maze. There was a small line which allowed small groups no larger than 6 in at a time. Colby and Sam put their masks into the drawstring bag that was hidden under Sam’s costume as you waited and you all were able to toss your empty drinks in a garbage right before entering into near darkness.

A winding path greeted you three where between the two and a half winding corridors were four automated animatronics that provided a good jump scare before opening up into the first room. The red and yellow lit room was decorated with fake hanging body limbs with the center having a table with delimbed torso. Just as you got around the corner a female whimper drew your attention to a caged area where a disheveled girl was locked inside pleading for you to help her. As you moved closer a chainsaw roared to life behind you as a leather face dressed man charged out of the hidden corner chasing the three of you out of the room and into the next section.

As you made your way through the last 3 rooms you have been positioned somewhere between the two. You swear Sam jumped a foot off the ground when he was caught off guard at the last jump scare. Your thoughts were confirmed when you left and Colby began to laugh and called Sam out on it. From there the three of you bumped into each other as you walked on to the next thing you were off to do, which was carve some pumpkins which really just became a but if a mess of pumpkin guts that was tossed about your table until your group was asked to leave.

The two put back on their masks and you gladly took videos of them going around scaring poor people passing by. When your friend finally texts to meet up, you took a group picture with the two who were enjoying making trouble scaring people and sent it with the location to meet up. Sam and Colby hid them selves and waited until your friend arrived popping out and gave your friend a good scare before the three of you exchanged numbers agreeing to join them on a future ghost hunt before you left with your friend.

“Told you, you would have fun.” Your friend walks backwards, their phone out and up.

“Yeah, yeah.” You roll your eyes seconds before your head is bunched between your shoulders from the flinching reaction of two ‘Boos’ on either side of you accompanies by a Freddy Kruger and Ghost Face masks.

You turn playfully hitting the laughing guys on the shoulders as the turn to scurry away.

“Trouble I tell you. They are trouble.” You comment turning to your friend with a large smile.

[frostgears]

We Who Are Far From Home, ch. 7: Bree 5

Hair loose, wearing nothing but a blouse, Bree bounced up and down on her toes, recalibrating herself, feeling the way this body moved. She was far more Coda's work now than Nost's or her own. But Coda's work was always good. Light. Fast. Really absurd quality for domestic automatons, if not quite up to the standards of a mage who made of herself a war machine.

She thought that it wasn't Lyric's body that stopped it from being the divine hero of the Kingdom. Not that she could really blame it. It found another role and fit perfectly into it and she couldn't tell herself now that she wasn't the right doll for the job after all…

Focus, Bree. Collect those thoughts and line them up, biggest to smallest. Goal: protect the Kingdom. Strategic objective: head off the next war. Tactical objective: deny the Crimson Fist their kill. Cover story: doll maid. Next step: put on the damn dress.

She held it up, loosened the ties, pulled the thing over her head. Felt weird. She checked the mirror. It was the wrong way around and now her blouse was bunched up. She pulled it off again, smoothed the blouse, rotated the dress, shrugged herself back into it, froze.

"Are you done in there?" Zai shouted through the dressing room's door. "I need a uniform too!"

"I'm. Uh." She shouldn't have looked in the mirror. That had been a mistake. The dress, even the body, they could have been a costume, but now they were her. First look: a slim brunette, not that different from the body she was born in, but terminally mousy and wan. Second look: she refocused, saw hard angles and precise curves and ball joints, but not the ball joints she was used to—

"Not waiting any longer." Zai barged in. The spy rustled through the small closet next to the mirror, pulled a warm brown and decorously ruffled dress the near-twin of Bree's, hung it on a hook as she began hunting for undergarments. "Something wrong?"

"Everything," Bree said, miserably.

"No. Be specific."

"I can't! It's my whole damn me!"

"Doesn't matter. Job to do. Look the part, worry about the rest on your own time." She flicked calm dark eyes over Bree, sniffed. "Also, you forgot your corset, and your petti, and," she gestured to the cabinet full of various compact metal horrors on the other side of the mirror, "about half of what you need for the real job."

Zai undid the neck-string of her nightdress and dropped it to her feet with a shrug. She dismissed her boxers with a tug of thumb over hip and let those fall to the floor on top of the nightdress, then kicked the whole pile into a laundry bin with an apparently practiced foot.

"Take all that off. Get dressed with me, do exactly what I do, and then at least blending won't be a problem."

Bree kept staring at herself, but it was a small room, with a large mirror.

Zai took it otherwise, smirking. "Nothing you haven't seen before, lady-killer. Come on. Fresh panties. Catch," she said, tossing Bree a pair from an open drawer.

Bree boggled from the sheer absurdity of it. "I don't need panties, Zai. I don't piss, I don't sweat, I don't have a period, I don't even get wet unless my Owner…" — and that was a thing that surfaced unpleasantly like a shark in a hot spring; when did she start thinking that word with a capital O — "…presses a button for it."

Zai glared. "Aren't we fancy. Put your damn panties on, because Lady Emmerline's maidservants don't go around not wearing underwear, dolls or not."

"Fine!" She pulled them on.

"Good. Stay with me. Stockings. Thigh holsters, both sides, left side steel, right side alkalium, three blades each, well clear of the stockings and don't forget which metal's where. Slip. Braided cable whip. Wear that looped around your waist, you'll pull the petti up under it, dress has a buttoned flap in each hip pocket for when you need to pull it out…"

Bree dutifully followed Zai's directions, putting each undergarment and each weapon on as Zai did the same.

"Corset. Actually, first, here, help me with mine. Just pull this a little tighter and tie it off. Okay, good, tight enough. Petticoat. Hand me that back scabbard, and one of those short swords. And the tube next to it."

"What's that?"

"Blowgun. Not every problem is nice enough to happen inside throwing knife range, and there's no way I could fit an actual bow in this and still be able to bend. No point you taking one, though, you barely have lungs." Zai checked herself approvingly in the mirror, white foundation garments strapped over with dark leather and metal, then over at Bree. "Want a slingshot or something?"

"Oh! No. I mean yes. I mean, I have one already. Spring-driven pellet-thrower. Nost put it in yesterday when she added the seals." Bree tapped the port cover in her left palm. "It's no tethered-harpoon cannon, but it's something."

"You still have the soulcatcher too," Zai pointed out.

"Yeah, without the mycelial conduits or the mana furnace that made it work halfway usefully in my usual body. It's one shot and it won't work on anyone healthy."

"It's one shot that they won't expect," the spy said, as if dealing with a particularly dim student. She started wriggling into the uniform dress, pausing a few times to make sure her personal arsenal didn't snag. "Use everything you can get. What's left in the cabinet?"

Bree prodded a heavy waxed twill bag on the bottom shelf. "Just the showstopper dust."

"Give me two of the small bags. I don't have your arm strength. You take the big ones."

"Where am I meant to put these?" Bree said, her un-tweaked voice box completely failing to convey any of the frustration she felt. Had her old body really been this small and weaponless? How had she gotten anything done?

She looked at herself in the mirror. Slim brunette, mousy and wan. Dress fit, at least, now that she had it on properly. Easy to move in. Easy to perform her household duties — what household, Bree, you're here to stop an assassination — cooking, cleaning, serving drinks and snacks to her Owner and her Owner's guests, perhaps learning to sew from Zai in her downtime. Zai had made both sets of uniforms; she was quite the seamstress, a talented role model…

Bree. Bree what the fuck. You're not really a maid any more than Zai is. That's just the bindings talking.

An idea. Bree unbuttoned the top two buttons of her crisp white blouse and reached inside. "Zai," she asked, "opinions?"

"Hm. If you can pop those buttons quickly, should be fine. Turn sideways," Zai said thoughtfully, then, "Tighten the corset, you're sagging. Wait, faster if I do it." The spy's hands worked deftly behind Bree's back. "Better."

Bree faced the mirror again. Slim brunette, mousy and wan, dress fitted very closely over a carefully concealed set of weapons capped off by what had to be a good four or five kilos of carefully packaged showstopper dust padding out her corset.

"Yes," she whispered. "Better."

"Your usual body doesn't have those," her fellow "maid" pointed out. "More like the one before this one?"

"Nah, never really had much to work with there. I think… it's just that I can change something. Back in the Academy, new hair color every month, new piercing every year, little optical glamors going more often than not. But just now, hells, I was starting to think that all this was just my Owner's body. The service compulsions had me pretty hard."

Zai's face flickered with surprise, confusion, disgust.

"Is this going to be a problem, Bree?"

"Maybe. I don't know."

"You beat them before."

"Yeah."

"You built the compulsions."

"I built part of them. Joint effort, me and Coda."

"You took orders pretty well, just now."

"Yes. That helped. A lot. Thank you. I feel like I'll be okay getting dressed and gearing up tomorrow morning, it's just, the mirror was a surprise–"

"An order for you, then," Zai said, voice hard. "You think you can't do this, any time, you tell me, we scrub, we get out. You are the strongest of us, even in that body. We need you thinking like you. I am not," she added, "losing the irreplaceable Bree the Blessed, Savior of the Summer Capital, Hero of the Arbor Pass, Secret Shield of the Kingdom, to some back-alley doll sorcery gone wrong because we tried to pull an undercover job and she went weird on me. We can leave. Tell me and we will. That's an order."

"Yes, Zai, I will tell you," she blurted, instantly, and knew that she would.

A bell tingled outside the servants' quarters.

"Where are my lovely handmaidens, then?" Emmerline called, her voice booming and jovial.

The sheer Emmerline of the moment broke something's horrible hold on her. "She's going to be absolutely insufferable with that thing for the entire time we're here," Bree said.

"That's the most normal sentence I've heard you say all morning," Zai muttered. "And there are how many like you? Wish the Service had kept an eye on this Coda."

---

prev: We Who Are Far From Home, ch. 6: Bree 4

next: when it's done

[meow-town]

Finished!!!! (My art is bad, and I’m fairly new to digital art, so let me down slowly)

And as promised, a pair of HCs to go along with it!

Metal Family Halloween HCs! (General and x Reader)

-Dee acts like he doesn’t like dressing up, but he gets really into it. He was that one kid who always had the best, most original, most niche costumes (and you could always tell his parents would help him). He went as Cthulhu for Halloween once when he was 6 and he just looked adorable <333

-He really enjoys scary movies and actually doesn’t get easily spooked by them too, he crapped his pants watching Insidious though. He’s one of those people who reminds themselves that it’s not real, and it actually works for them.

-Doesn’t like gummies, just hard candies and chocolate bars. He thinks gummies are too sweet. So instead of trick or treating, he just goes out and buys a whole bag just for himself. (Also he thinks he’s way too old to go trick or treating) Much prefers handing out candy to the neighborhood kids in matching costumes with you, you were Victor and Emily from the Corpse Bride that year.

-Heavy is just in it for the candy, and he likes seeing black cats pop up on his instagram during October times. He also likes scary mazes and all that kind of stuff. Doesn’t mind dressing up and likes doing Halloween escape rooms with his friends. He’s the type of person who likes getting scared.

-Although Heavy has a huge thing for overly obscene Halloween masks, he loves the classic werewolf look. With his flannel and clip on cat ears. Dee always teases him saying he looks like a furry 😭

-Heavy will always join people to watch creepy movies, even if he watches them through the spaces in between his fingers. He’ll have his chest puffed out and say he doesn’t get scared easily, only to not be able to watch Chucky. Put on the most disturbing documentary about a serial killer who never got caught, and he’ll watch happily. Now, put on a crappy horror movie with the least scary antagonist you’ve ever seen, and he won’t be able to finish it. Unless of course, you’re there for him to cling onto at every screamer on your movie nights.

-Glam goes crazy on decoration and the spooky shit. I mean, his house has a replica of a ram’s skull on it. And that’s on during the whole year. He has impeccable taste in decoration, my man isn’t going to settle for plastic jack o lanterns scattered across his lawn, no.

-He will sculpt entire statues for Halloween, he’s good at everything so-

-Sculptures of fallen angels, imps, headless horsemen, characters from Lovecraft… He is also a big fan of fancy candles! He’ll have electric ones out on the orch to prevent fires, but inside the house he’s got tons of them. In really nice scents, as well. During Halloween season, the whole house smells of smoked sandalwood and lotus.

-Speaking of what Halloween season is to Glam, he puts up decorations as soon as September rolls around. It’s his favourite time of year. He also likes wearing cozy wool sweaters. Likes it even more when you’re piled on top of him with a weighted blanket, stroking your hair lovingly.

-He loves the history of Halloween but strongly dislikes the marketisation of it all.

-Victoria doesn’t have much of an opinion on it, but she enjoys watching scary movies with the family. For two reasons, they’re like the perfect date night movies for her and Glam, and because she loses her shit watching Heavy’s reactions.

-Victoria has this habit of going through Heavy’s collection of Halloween masks. She’ll scare the kids every chance she gets with them, spooking them whenever they turn a corner. Don’t worry though, she wouldn’t dare to scare you, she wouldn’t want to submit you to the Jigsaw mask Heavy has dug away in the attic.

[missymurphy1985]

The Extra (part 2)

Warning - smut (eventually....)

Taglist @queenshelby @margoo0 @being-worthy @peakyscillian @peakyciills @janelongxox @elenavampire21 @noctvrnalmoth @ysmmsy @cloudofdisney @lauren-raines-x @namelesslosers @misscarolineshelby @screemqueen @cilleveryone @peaky-cillian @misselsbells06 @datewithgianni @heidimoreton

You were finishing up your coffee, grateful that Cillian didn't hang around after grabbing his. Suddenly you heard Anto shouting in the yard outside. You told Liane you'd find her later, and headed out to him. He was pacing the grounds on his phone, the anger evident in his face. With an abrupt "Fuck you!" down the line, he hung up, kicking a rock across the courtyard in frustration.

"Anto? What's wrong?" You approached nervously.

"We start filming in three hours, and one of the cast had dropped out!!"

"What? Who?"

"Rachel Foster. She was supposed to play Tommy Shelby's girl."

"Oh shit.."

"Oh shit in-fucking-deed. What the fuck am I supposed to do now?! I can't call someone in at this short notice!"

"I don't know anyone who's even available.." he suddenly looked at you, you squirmed a little, you recognised that look.

"You know, it's not too late to reconsider my offer y/n."

"Anto we talked about this, I'm not an actress."

"But you used to be! And you were the best I knew!"

"When you offered me a role in this I was flattered beyond belief, I truly was, but my role is as a professor now, not an actress. I gave that all up nearly a decade ago!"

"Think about it - you're here anyway! She was only meant to film this week, it's a few scenes with Tommy, nothing major.. she's not even lasting the whole series it's just a few scenes I swear it. At least let me do a casting call with you? I'll pay you for your time, even if you don't want to do it? It's win-win! I'm desperate here y/n..."

You thought about it. You enjoyed the theatre shows you used to be involved in years ago so much, but then you were offered the job at Birmingham University and it was too good an opportunity to miss - a steady wage, guaranteed income.. the thought of going back to being a struggling actress made you very nervous.

"One casting call. If it doesn't work, I'm out and you'll have to find someone else Anto."

"Oh you fucking legend... You BEAUTIFUL legend!!!" He scooped you up and spun you round in a circle, before dragging you over to costume and makeup.

An hour later, you were in costume, hair done, makeup on, ready for the camera. You stood in the set for the Garrison, Anto giving you the once over for the short scene he'd got planned for the casting call.

"Anto you didn't say anything about kissing Tommy!" You groaned, reading the paper he handed you.

"It's one kiss - we need to make sure you have chemistry. You know these scenes are always filmed first y/n."

"You fucking owe me Byrne." He grinned his cheesiest grin yet, allowing you time to get to know your lines and the scene. You were lost in it, focussing on getting yourself into a character for the first time in years.

"Y/n?" An Irish brogue suddenly dragged you out of your prep, and you nearly dropped the whiskey glass you were holding as you were practising a scene.

"Holy fuck..."

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you - " he held out his hand, chuckling at your outburst. "I'm Cillian. I'll be playing Thomas Shelby."

"I, uh, I know who you are, I'm Y/n..."

"I know, Anto tells me you're Rachel's replacement? Really appreciate you stepping in like this, I know it's all a bit weird. Just take your time, okay? There's no rush, and no pressure to get it perfect, just relax. I know how intense these things can be."

"Thank you. I'm sorry if I'm shit..." You laughed, your stomach in knots.

"You won't be! You wanna stop at any point, tell me. No pressure, remember that. I'm looking forward to it."

"To what? Me throwing a whiskey glass at you?"

"No, not that bit," he smiled, his blue eyes glittering in the stage lights behind you.

"Right then you two, are you ready?" Anto called, and you pulled yourself together. Taking a deep breath, the scene began.

"You promised me Thomas. You said you were going legit!! Now I find out you have guns hidden away from the fucking IRA??"

"Clara, you have to trust me! I AM going legit but I need money behind me to do it - this is our way out of here!"

"You're a fucking liar Shelby. Four years I waited for you. Four fucking years you wrote to me promising me a life of safety, no more having to watch our backs, no more Peaky fucking Blinders, and you lied through your fucking teeth!" You threw the glass, missing his face by a mere inch.

He ducked, and approached you carefully, hands out to catch your arms as they flailed around. A sudden flick of your wrist in the wrong direction caught him off guard and you hit him. Full force on the side of his cheek.

"Oh fuck!! Shit I'm so sorry!!"

"Quite the left hook you've got there!!" He laughed, regaining his composure, rubbing his face. A decent shade of red now blossoming across his cheek. Anto was in stitches the other side of the camera and you shot him a glare.

"I can't believe you've just smacked the star of the fucking show!" He laughed.

"You're certainly feisty enough for Clara's character, I'll give you that!" Cillian smirked. You were mortified.

"I really am sorry..."

"No harm done, I'm fine. I've had worse. Come on, let's finish this yeah?" You were convinced you'd screwed it up, but Anto calling Action brought you back into the scene.

Cillian cleared his throat and approached you again, you could see him trying not to laugh though and you couldn't help but giggle a little, which set him off too.

"I'm sorry, really I am!" You panicked.

"That was my fault, I was too busy watching her arms!" Cillian smiled.

"Guys I really like what I'm seeing here. There's definitely chemistry on screen. Why don't you two go rehearse a little more together and come back in 30 minutes?" Cillian nodded and turned to you.

"Fancy a coffee?" He asked. You nodded and he led you over to the trailers behind the set.

"Are we not going to the cafeteria?"

"Not unless you want to rehearse in front of your Uni class?" He smirked. You shook your head and followed him into a decent sized trailer at the back. He flicked the kettle on, telling you to take a seat while he made the coffee.

"So why did you give up the theatre? You're clearly very good, else Anto wouldn't have requested you?"

"It wasn't going anywhere. I was in the West End, Broadway, Galway.. just seemed to be bouncing around with no real direction. I wanted to get into film or TV work but the roles were in high demand. And it became very clear very quickly that I wasn't the right kind of actress the movie makers wanted as a leading lady."

"Really? Why?"

"I wasn't prepared to get my tits out at every audition like the others I guess?" You shrugged. "I auditioned for a horror movie once in Hollywood. Some big budget thing that never ended up happening anyway, but the director wanted me to audition in this skimpy little dress - barely covered my ass never mind my thighs. Wouldn't audition me unless I wore it, so I threw it at him and walked out. Kinda blacklisted from then on."

"That's horrendous? Which director?"

"Cant even remember his name now it was so long ago. It doesn't matter anyway, the movie was scrapped before production and I landed the job at the university. Secure, stable, good money - couldn't ask for more really. And the kids are so great, Cillian, full of passion and enthusiasm! They're so inspiring they really are!"

"I'm meeting some of them later, I'm looking forward to it. My youngest wants to get into the industry. Been trying to put him off for years but he's such a little showman. Exactly like I was at his age."

"Is that Jack?" You asked.

"Yeah. His mam is keen on him getting into it but she hated me going off for months on end filming. One of the reasons she divorced me last year."

"I heard about that. I'm sorry.."

"No don't be! We get on better now than we ever have. Only stayed together for the kids you know? Milk and sugar?" You nodded, and he handed you the cup.

"This scene is awkward, I've never done a scene like this before," you confessed, taking a sip.

"Like what?"

"A kiss? How do you kiss someone without actually kissing them?"

"You just do it, I guess. Once you're in character it just happens. I won't use tongues I promise - nothing personal, it's just one of my rules."

"That makes it less awkward I suppose!"

"Exactly. Although didn't stop Scarlett Johansson that one time... Nearly got me shot by the wife that one did!" You remembered that scene in Girl with a Pearl Earring and laughed.

"You know, I've learned over the years that if you do those scenes first it makes all the others much easier," he said, putting his coffee down and taking yours from you, placing it on the table next to his. He took your hands and stood you up in front of him.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm going to kiss you."

"What?"

"Not like that, I'm going to 'movie-kiss' you. Show you how it's done. Trust me - you won't feel awkward after this."

"I beg to differ..."

"Come on y/n, what have you got to lose?" My senses? You thought. My mind, maybe? You were hesitant, massively hesitant. You weren't even sure you were even going to go through with this. He glanced at his watch.

"We have five minutes, close your eyes and trust me." He nodded at you, and you took a deep breath, closing your eyes.

His fingers back on your cheek, this was just a reenactment of the scene but those fingers felt like lightening bolts. You could sense him moving closer, and his lips brushing yours. You were almost frozen to the spot until he whispered for you to relax.

"Okay, okay... I'm relaxed.. try again.." he leaned in again, your lips meeting properly. His hand in the back of your hair pulling you a little closer. You fell into it, your hands reaching round his back. As promised, he didn't use his tongue, which felt really strange at first but you quickly got used to it. Your mouths meshed together perfectly as you found your rhythm. A few minutes of this, before he pulled away, another gentle kiss against your lips as he did.

"Wow..." You gasped, opening your eyes. If someone had told you this morning you'd be kissing Cillian Murphy by lunchtime you'd have had them commited to the local loony bin, yet here you were. He didn't speak, and his hand was still on your cheek, brushing it lightly.

"Didn't plan on making you blush so much."

"Didn't plan on kissing Cillian Murphy when I woke up this morning," you laughed.

"Ready to do that again?"

"Again?"

"Just to make sure we got it right, of course."

"Yes.. of course.." he moved in quickly, but it felt different this time. His lips crashed against yours, and you definitely felt his tongue brush your lips a couple of times but you didn't reciprocate. You both moved backwards, your thighs hitting the table behind you, coffee nearly spilling over.

"Fuck, you okay? I'm sorry.." he pulled away to make sure none had spilled on you.

"I'm fine, it didn't fall, I'm fine... I uh, I think we've got the kiss nailed down though..." You brushed your hair out of your face and looked to the floor.

"Yeah, I think you're right.." your eyes met again and you both smiled. Before he could speak though, Anto was at the door knocking.

"Ready for round 2 guys?" He called. Cillian nodded at you, and you nodded back, both of you heading out to try the scene again.

[bimsha]

How They Propose You

Sano Manjiro /Mikey:

When Mikey took you to a grand restaurant instead of your usual street filled with street food, you were suspicious. You knew something must be up, but with Mikey, you never realized until it was the last minute. But the whole thing was fancy for both of you. Your eyes kept darting around all the beautifully dressed customers and the elegant waiters taking orders and rushing around. When the dessert came, you had let go of all your initial suspicions. The dessert was so good that you cleared the plate in mere seconds ignoring the very existence of your boyfriend. You looked up at him to compliment him for the grand dinner when you noticed the horrified expression of the blonde.

“Y/n, you ate the whole thing?”

“Yeah?” You answered, frowning. What’s the big deal?

“Oh my god” He said, now looking petrified for some reason. That expression was a first. He got up from his seat and rounded the table to get a clear look at your plate. At this point, you were being embarrassed. He crouched next to you, looking worried. “Do you feel weird or sick? Do you want to throw up? Should we go to a hospital?”

You sighed, "Mikey." You leaned closer to his ear so that the high class people wouldn't hear your beautiful language. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Y/n” He whispered back, “There was a ring in the dessert. I asked the waiter to put it in there.”

Your eyes widened in horror. “What?” You blurted out. You could care less about manners now. “You fed me a ring? Wait, I didn’t even know? I didn’t feel any different?”

“I was trying to propose!” Mikey countered, looking awfully sad. “I didn’t know you’d eat the ring too”

They had drawn a lot of attention. “Well, if there was a ring I should’ve felt it. I didn’t. Maybe it wasn’t there?” After a beat of silence you added, “Right?” But a corner of your mind was telling you there's actually a chance. You were a sucker for all those chocolate desserts. But a ring? No way… right?

Now you both were looking at each other with hopeless expressions thinking maybe Mikey would’ve killed you in the process of propsing and the murmurs were growing loud around you when a waiter walked in. They stopped right by their table, “Sir, I’m here to apologize. Our chef has mistakenly and forgot to put the ring on your dessert” He handed a surprised Mikey the ring, bowing deeply.

“Oh my god” Mikey sighed in relief, “I didn’t kill my girlfriend trying to propose her”

You sighed in relief, “I didn’t eat that thing. Thank god” When you started laughing, finding the whole thing funny, Mikey actually knelt on one knee. The whole restaurant was silent as he asked,

“Y/n, the love of my life, do you want to marry me?”

“Say yes” One of the guys screamed, “He didn’t feed you the ring. That man is worth it”

You flushed but offered your hand with a matching smile, “This is the best proposal ever”

Mikey rolled his eyes. “There goes my romantic dinner and proposal. But A for trying.”

You couldn’t tell anything otherwise else, because he deserved an A for trying.

Kazutora Hanemiya:

It was a cold winter morning and your boyfriend Kazu asked you to come to the park for an emergency. And there you were, rubbing your hands together trying to get rid of the coldness while waiting for your boyfriend to give him a good ass kicking for leaving you in the snow. You waited for a while, and instead of Kazutora, a little boy around seven appeared from the entrance and ran straight towards you. Something glistened in his hands. Then, he frowned, looking at you from head to toe. That’s when you realize he was actually holding onto a ring. Where did he get that? “Miss, would you like to marry me?” The youngster asked with so much determination that you almost laughed.

You were about to answer, when a familiar figure ran up to them. Kazutora didn’t pay any attention that you were there. He launched at the boy, trying to get the ring in his hand. “You little prick, I told you not to touch that! And she’s my girlfriend, back off”

You stared at them as they wrestled in the snow. Kazutora caught the little guy in a headlock and fished the ring out of his hands. “Got it!” He cheered.

“Uh Kazu? What’s going on here?”

He looked at you with an exasperated sigh. “This brat ruined everything. I had something to ask you.” He looked flustered, “But he stole-” He groaned, “Go back home.” He said to the boy. “I swear I’m going to buy you that whatever the shit you like”

The boy looked uncertain for a moment. He reached out his pinky, “Promise?”

Kazutora sighed, and sent the boy off. He stood up and dusted off the snow from his pants. You waited patiently when he went, “That’s my little cousin. He thought it would be funny to propose you.”

You laughed, “And why is that?”

Kazutora shrugged, fidgeting with the ring and looking at you. “Because I may or may not have been staring at your photo and practicing everything” He averted his gaze, abashed. “I had this all planned out. I’m going to ruin that brat!”

You shrugged, “I don’t know. I’m still here”

He looked at you earnestly and took a step close. “We’ve been through a lot together. I may not have been the best boyfriend to you but I really love you Y/N. I can’t imagine a life without you. Want to share your life with me for the rest of our lives?”

You offered your hand as a tear slipped down your cheek. “Of course” He slipped the ring to your finger with his own eyes sparkling with tears. You scowled.

“You’re not the one who’s supposed to cry!”

He grinned, leaning in and pecking your lips. “I’m just so happy you said yes” He said, picking you up and twirling you around. Both of you fell back to the snow, thinking about a lifetime of memories together.

Mitsuya Takashi:

You were casually sitting inside his work place, watching him designing another costume. Other times, you asked questions, but this time, you remained silent watching him work. There was a way Mitsuya worked when he was in here. He was graceful and confident. It was a sight to see. “Y/n” He called, taking your attention. “Can you come here for a sec?”

You frowned, but did as you were asked. When you reached him, he immediately started taking your measures, jotting down each. It was normal for him to make clothes for you but this was the first time he was doing it without asking about the design or showing you a picture. “What’s it?”

Mitsuya gestures at the mess of white cloth beside him. “An order came asking me to make a wedding dress, I took the measures for future use” He grinned, pulling out something from his pocket. You stared at the velvet box as he opened it. A ring glistening inside. “Y/n” His voice was smooth. He took a step closer.

You just watched him, surprised as he knelt on one knee. “I’ve always wanted a life with you. I’ve dreamed about it many times. Would you let my dreams come true and be my soulmate for the rest of my life?”

You said yes and watched as he slipped the gold band to your finger. “You literally took the measurement to my future wedding dress before asking? I’m gonna remember that Takashi?”

He stood up and pressed a kiss on your forehead. “Just had to set up the vibe.” He said, looking at the white cloth draped along the counter. “You’re going to look beautiful in a wedding dress. I should start working on it”

Baji Keisuke:

One thing you liked about Baji was that he said the weirdest shit sometimes. Like right now. Both of you had your own respected soda cans in your hands while he suddenly uttered, “You know, marrying is weird”

You huffed, “And that is because?”

“Like listen. Two people are like, okay we love each other. Let’s get the whole government involved and make it official so we can actually make babies and spend time together.” He scowled, taking a sip. “That’s just fucked up”

You hummed thoughtfully, “Now that you’ve said it, it does sound fucked up”

He put the soda can away and pulled out a silver band, looking at him with his serious look. “Should we get the government involved too?”

You looked at the ring, back at his face but decided to play along. “We should totally get the government involved in all our shit” When you offered your hand, he easily slipped the ring in. He reached down and kissed it, looking at you adoringly. “That was the most funniest, and the ridiculous proposal I have ever heard.”

Baji shrugged, wrapping one of his arms around your shoulder. “That was the best proposal, I know you think so too”

“Ridiculous doesn’t mean I don’t like it. You’re right, that’s the best proposal”

Bonus:

The two of you decided to announce your engagement to the rest of the gang. Baji confidently stood in front of them, your hand in his, holding onto tightly when he announced. “We’re going to get the government involved”

You cracked up, looking at the other’s expressions, they had no clue what was going on. Chifuyu actually looked like he understood. “Congratulations!” The younger said, beaming. "When is the wedding?”

The realization dawned upon them and soon they were all gasping for their breaths, calling out for water and literally dying on the floor.

Chifuyu Matsuno:

When Chifuyu asked whether you wanted to hang out at his place, it didn’t strike you as anything odd. You two often hung out at each other’s places when your parents were away. He usually kept the door unlocked and you walked in. It was the same that Sunday morning but after you walked in you realized that actually it was pretty weird. Your boyfriend was there, kneeling in front of his refrigerator. Hold up, was that a ring? Is he proposing the fridge? He looked really serious as he took a long breath, opening the box as if he was in a movie. You watched quietly, the moment was too golden to interrupt. He picked the gold band carefully out of the box and held it in front of the fridge. “Y/n, you’re amazing. You’re the best person I have ever met in my life” He was saying to the fridge, “It’s a miracle I found you. Do you want to be mine? Marry me, please?”

The fridge didn’t answer. OF COURSE. The problem would be if it actually answered. He looked satisfied with the practice. That’s when you decided to break it to him and actually clear your throat. The poor guy jumped out of his skin and stared at you horrified. His gaze shifting between the fridge and you. “Are you cheating on me? With that thing?”

He flushed, his ears going pink. “Y/n! Did you- I mean when did-” He groaned, flopping to the floor like a kicked puppy. “Everything’s ruined”

“I’m sorry” You tried, trying to suppress your laughter. “Let’s try again. We go back in time.”

He looked at you to see whether you’re joking and solemnly nodded. “You should be in the character”

You nodded, and closed the door. And this time, you knocked on the door. Your heart was pumping with excitement. Despite the fact you were supposed to act like you don’t know what's going to happen, you were thrilled. Chifuyu opened the door. Despite his defeated look earlier, he seemed to have gained back some of his courage. He didn’t wait until he let you in. He just knelt right there, holding up the ring. He looked a little bit too excited to get the whole speech out as he just blurted, “Please marry me?”

You laughed, “Of course!” He slipped the ring into your finger and stood. Before you could comment, he connected your lips, kissing you right there, with your hands stopped in mid air in surprise. He pulled back with a cocky grin.

“I added an extra surprise element”

You scoffed, “Never going to get over the fact your proposal speech to the fridge was better”

“You’re not going to let that go, are you?”

You grinned, “Never! I’m going to tell our grandchildren that his grandfather proposed to a fridge. The story must go on!”

He groaned, “You’re just mean” He pulled you in, closing the door behind you. “But I love you.”

You hummed with a smile, “I love you too, you big dork”

I don't know why I did this but I did this so get it. I might do some more later. This is fun (":

[smutember]

Smutember 2021 prompts are here!

And we're back to make 2021 slightly more smutty! Thank you to all people, who asked for it to return and to all that submitted propositions of prompts. Three months should be looong enough for you to create all the smuttiness you can think of.

Rules

All posts have to be tagged with either smutember or smutember2021 hashtag (preferably both). Be aware that ns fw tag is shadowed, and posts with it are not visible in the tags. I personally suggest the revived old lemon tag. it wouldn’t hurt to @ this blog, so that your post won’t be missed, especially if your blog is new and still not shown in the tag.

No minor/underage content.

All submissions have to be at least somewhat smutty/naughty. We don’t require hard Explcit rating, a Mature one is fine too.

If you are planning on posting suggestive pics/drawings, remember that tumblr still has the ridiculous p0rn filter, so I suggest cropping the pic and adding links to external sites.

If your work contain kinks that may offend some, please tag them either in the tags, or in the body of the work.

Prompts are merely suggestions - at the end of the day, you are the one who chooses how to interpret the prompt. You can also completely ignore the prompts and have your own 30-day challenge, we’re not gonna call the internet police on you.

And in case they weren’t clear, here is a list of prompts with explanations and some propositions:

Strip Poker - cards on the table.. and maybe some clothes too. Sexy games and bets galore.

Oral - pretty self-explanatory :)

"Watcha starin' at?" - One person catches the other dressing? Or are they just peeping Toms? Your call!

Gangbang - anything related to threesomes/moresomes/ sex parties/orgies, etc. The more, the merrier.

Public sex - cos the world NEEDS to know you are in love... and remember, it's not illegal if police doesn't catch you.

In the kitchen - some call it boring and cliché, but at the same time, those countertops are at perfect height... Just make sure to the pasta doesn't overboil

Putting on a show - striptease? Cam show? Filming? Roleplay with fancy costumes? So many ways to express yourself.

Against a wall - Vertical is new horizontal. Classic case of a quickie... or just because the beds have not arrived yet.

In a vehicle - Time to rev up those engines. They say car sex is difficult, but you will find a way. Or maybe it's a spaceship? Or someone joined the mile high club? Just don't idle too much...

Hot tub - Is it hot because of the water, or because you are in there? All sorts of bathroom-related shenanigans, not necessarily in the tub itself.

Nature date - Time to return to the nature... doing it au naturel? In the forest? On top of a mountain? The whole world can be a bed if you are creative enough.

Romantic gesture - that's how it starts, with flowers and chocolates... but what happens after? And what if it fails?

Fantasy - We all have them, and so do our characters. All the roleplays, scenarios and AUs suddenly may be real.

"YES!" - That's what you will be screaming... or maybe that's all you can say, agreeing to every decision for a night?

The clock's ticking - Quickie before the boss catches you... or maybe because the world's gonna end tomorrow. Anything that makes love-making time-sensitive.

Secret rendezvous - sneaking away for a date always makes the heart pump blood faster.

Experiments - trying new kinks? New positions? Role reversal? Try it here for free!

Skinny dipping - any beach is a nudist beach if you are brave enough!

Facial - sex is messy, and it's time to embrace it. Anything related to the stckier part of love-making.

Formal wear - sometimes imagining what's underneath is part of fun. Dresses, suits, costumes, fancy parties and balls goes here.

Porno playlist - we gotta have soundtrack for the love-making. Anything related to music or ambient sounds goes here. Feel free to create said playlists!

Celebration night - time to pen bottle of champagne and celebrate.... and you decide what! Maybe even the fact that there is time to celebrate....

"You don't do that with a fruit!" - Insert peach and aubergine emoji here. Food play, aphrodisiacs, or maybe creative use of cucumbers...

Body warmth - Oh no! We're snowed in and HAVE to share a bed! What a... horror. Time-tested tropes of cuddling and being close together, always a good start for something bigger.

Breeding grounds - Time to expand the family... or maybe celebrate the expansion. Impregnation, pregnant sex, breeding fantasies go here.

Bondage - Fifty shades of please look up how it's done and use a safeword properly.

Blindfolds - close your eyes... and let other other senses guide you. From actual blindfolds, through sex in the darkness, to audiovisual deprivation.

Dirty talk - Use your adults words... a lot of them. Pre-sex or post-coital to start another round, oral is not the only way of making use of that tongue.

Wish come true - It finally happened! More fantasies and magical moments, only you decide what was that secret desire of your characters...

Free day - Didn’t enjoy the prompts? Or have you enjoyed them too much and have more ideas? Use this as a wildcard to express your creativity. Anything goes here, as long as you tag it.

And here are the raw list of prompts submitted:

strip poker

striptease, oral, gangbang, public sex, experimenting/ "Try Everything". There's probably more, but that's off the top of my head :)

something where one partner plays with themselves while the other is watching? Not quite voyeurism since they're both together. I don't know what to call it- "presenting" or "putting on a show" maybe?

sex against a wall; in a vehicle; bath or hot tub; out in nature; romantic gesture fails (but then doesn't); wish come true; Yes day (person A agrees to say yes to person B's requests for a whole day); time crunch/quickie; secret rendezvous.

skinny dipping, stripping, sex club

formal wear, pregnant sex

An inappropriate or inconvenient location requiring some discretion or creativity

Sexy Spotify Playlist! Or Makeout Music. Celebration Night (like a holiday, or birthday or anniversary. I'm bad at naming things). "You don't do that with fruit!" "Why is there porno music playing?"

Fishhooking, body warmth/heat, wet t-shirts

Multiple husbands/wives

My prompt are BONDAGE and BLINDFOLD and TEEN ANTICS.

Facial, Fantasy, Dirty Talk

cockwarming, mirror, cam show

in the kitchen; from behind; mile high club; skinny dipping; heat of the moment; summer fling; same time next year (meet same place/time every year or period of time); some repeats could be good too, oral, foreplay, fantasy, etc.

(Prompt for smutember) "Whatcha staring at, nothing to see here"

[jq37]

The Report Card – Fantasy High: The Seven Ep 6

Bitches Be Shopping

What is up y’all. A little late but let’s jump in with episode six of The Seven where our girls have just received a LOT of information, Sam most of all who got put into a little vision coma that she’s just now waking up from.

She explains the vision to her friends (as she interprets it, the other Eidolons didn’t die, just became part of the natural forces of the world) and then the bear that Penny made on a whim last episode (who is Russian, named Koda, and somehow a trained circus bear) gets into a fight with Katja with their friends buffing the two to make things more interesting because these are still idiot teens, life or death situation or no. Yelle decides to be the adult and tells them to knock it off and get back on mission.

That means Katja needs to call her dad since he’s knows the guy who’s the best lead to getting to TK ( Talcidimir Tallbreeze who I’ll call Tal). She actually manages to get her dad this time who is inside a giant snake on his hell mission. Katja asks what he knows about TK and he says she’s a sorcerer but also has a spell book so maybe she’s multiclassed. Sam and Ant desperately want to know if they boned and Katja absolutely is not interested in that knowledge. Yelle decides to just ask which makes her dad a little annoyed since he’s kind of in the middle of something (literally) and that annoys Ant, Ost, and Sam who--respectively, accuse him of gaslighting Kat, cast Command on him, and cast Bane on him to aid the Command spell. 

Mr. Cleaver fails the save and Ost commands him to tell Katja the truth. He admits that he did hook up with TK and he regrets it (note: it wasn’t like he cheated. It was just a casual hookup that wasn’t fulfilling it seems). Ost demands he apologize for not being there for Kat and Sam berates him for being at the top of the world and not lifting up his daughter too. For his part, Kat’s dad seems genuinely apologetic and promises to do better. 

“You don’t need to be the best father, you just need to be there,” Katja says, making her dad break down crying. 

Yelle, who has no daddy issues, is a bit less aggro and says that everyone makes mistakes and he can start making it up right now by helping with the Tal situation. She also gives them the tip that a cold spell will probably get them out of the snake lickety split.  She is on the money with the snake tip and Mr. Cleaver gets them all invites to a masquerade ball Tal is hosting. It’s being held on the Rumbosa which is this city-sized leisure ship. Mr. Cleaver says he’ll be back as soon as he can and, in the meantime, she should take care of her friends, “even the first 2 that were terrifying to me.”

The girls give Katja the axe they took as a birthday present (it was apparently her birthday the day before which Rekha just decided and Ost/Izzy refuses to accept without a fight because she *knows* Kat’s bday) which is identified as the Axe of Sundering (it can shatter objects, people, and sometimes concepts like halving movement). The two unnamed potions Yelle found are also ID’d as a Potion of Fly and a Potion of Gaseous Form. She distributes the Heath Potions to people without heals. Ant’s new arrows bypass some resistances and let her treat whatever she hits with the first one like it’s her favored enemy. 

According to their invites, the ship they need is docking in the city of Gravalvia soon (a very old city in the Baronies) so they need to figure out a plan. They have some downtime, during which:

Zelda tries to hype up the team.

Zelda tries to see if Ost is OK wrt dad stuff and Ost has a Full Breakdown after badly pretending she’s fine. 

While Zelda, Ost, and Penny are being Emotional and Sam is trying to literally cool them down with her powers, Ant and Yelle keep watch and experience emotional stability as the Adults Of The Party 

Anyway, after a night of rest, they head to the golden city of Gravalvia which is this very cool, very pretty city with mosaics and fountains and I assume columns. They get there and there’s a dramatic fight happening in the square which is halted when one of the fighters realizes that the country he’s fighting for doesn’t exist anymore. And now, it’s time for what we’ve all been waiting for. Shopping Montage! Let’s go girl by girl.

Katja and Ost

Kat asks for help from Ost with getting fancy for this gala since she’s never really done anything dressy before (and she had no mom to help--Kaaaat) and Ost is happy to oblige, dressing them both like “Jersey trash”. Kat, of course, still wears her Khakis underneath.

Antiope

Ant decides to get a vibe for what people here wear and picks something that will blend in but be forgettable so she can be stealthy. Classy blue dress and mask.

Penny

Penny...OK, I absolutely cannot describe what happens here in any way that will do justice to the scene. I am going to tell you what matters to the plot. You have to watch this yourself if you want to see the entire table have a collective breakdown. 

While looking for a costume, Penny runs into a halfling who is a member of the Society of Shadows--Laertes. He wants to know why she hasn’t responded to their invitation yet. She says she’s really eager to join, she just wasn’t sure how to respond (and also, she’s kind of in the middle of something). He says she can join by just messaging back and then her loved ones just have to sign waivers to have their memories wiped of her and she’s good to go. Say what now? asks Penny. She didn’t realize this was like a full Men in Black situation. 

He says it’s ultimately her decision and leaves.

Of course, I left out the parts where he ate a handful of Candy Heart’s remains, became violently ill, almost projectile vomited into Penny’s mouth, and she tried to kiss him despite him being a full adult. It’s A Lot, ok?

Also, we don’t find out until later but Penny picks a sexy duck costume for reasons that make more sense if you watch the scene but not *much* more sense. She also burns one of the healing potions on this dude as he is bar

Danielle

Danielle tries to get some info on the guests at the party and gets the names Lawrence LaDuc, Princess Autumn, and Duston who is the playboy cousin of Tal. She also hears some dude saying some colonize and plunder the earth BS and casts Heat Metal on him, fully mercing the dude. Ice cold. 

She tries to play it off like it’s the Curse of the Forest and when that doesn’t work and people start coming for her, she wildshapes into a dragon wyrmling and starts roasting people, killing 1 and dropping 2 to zero. 

Unfortunately, one of her party members is a known dragon hater and uses her new arrows to snipe her right out of the sky. Ant is horrified once she realizes what she’s done but Yelle says it’s all good. It’s NOT all good, says Ant, I STABBED YOU. You’re allowed to be mad! Yelle says she’s just really good at compartmentalizing but what Ant’s getting here is that Yelle doesn’t really believe that her feelings matter which echo the fears of her moms. 

Sam

Sam uses a combination of Mantle of Inspiration, glamour magic, performance, and good old flirting to get herself some killer clothes and also start a spontaneous musical number Giselle style.  

Brennan says she looks resplendent and, honestly, when does she not?

They reconvene, Zelda in a classic hoop skirt. Yelle realizes she never got a costume and just whips out a Met Gala level, autumn themed, Queen Mab-esque costume with Druidcraft which she could have done this whole time so I guess that’s why she was cool spending her shopping time getting gossip and playing Poison Ivy. 

They get to the ship and the way this works, everyone has to make an entrance and the really rich people (including Tal) are on a dais up top watching everyone come in. They all have to give fake names for the night since it’s a masquerade and they have to do Performance or Persuasion checks to see how impressive they look going in. 

Before they go in, they plan a little. Penny wants to look for TK. Sam wants to find Dunston. Ost wants to talk to the bouncers. Yelle wants to see if there are plants she can manipulate (there are btw) and for any exits. 

A quick rundown of how these all go:

Katja aka Mere (which means both mom and horse): 16 

Ant aka Midnight Huntress: 18 

Penny aka Penny Duckstone: 13

Zelda aka Madame Goodparty: 2 (Poor Zelda)

Sam aka Songbird: 22 (but she takes a hit to entrance save Zelda from totally flaming out)

Ost aka Stanley Gucci: 13

And Danielle, who never hogs the spotlight and is embarrassed to admit that maybe she does want to be the center of attention for once in her life with a Natural 20, gets a 29, absolutely bringing down the house as Empress Anima. As she walks forward she feels a voice say to her, “You got this. I love the name. You wear it well.”

Tal seems very impressed by her and a lady in a rabbit mask (Coeliabranca who I’ll call Coel if she comes up more) comes down to bring her up to the top with the high rollers. As she leaves, Sam casts Fly on her, just in case and holds the Concentration. 

Ost and Kat go talk to the bouncers and Kat decides to pretend to be her mom to get access to the area Yelle is. She rolls low and is told, “Hey, aren’t you already up there?” Kat is like, fuck and Ost saves her by using her charm earrings to get an entourage of guards who will let them through and do what she says. Once up there, Kat doesn’t see her mom which I can imagine she has mixed feelings about. 

Sam finds Dunston who is talking about Fantasy Bitcoin and seems like a real “Step on me mommy” type you know? Like, I feel like he’s into findom. Anyway, Sam charms him and his hangers on and learns about a procedure called a Phlebectomy that involves something going into their nose and then they feel better. Sam is rightfully horrified because, as I said, she is Most Likely To Survive A Horror Movie and can sense BS when she sees is. It’s apparently all the rage with the rich people here which is, como de dice, concerning seeing as they’re surrounded by them but we’ll get to that. Sam takes advantage of Dunston’s proclivities and gets him alone, knocks him out, steals him clothes, and pretends to be him (a *very* good scene by Sephie). 

Penny sees a gnome gnome boy (Lysander Higgins) shining shoes and finds out from him that there is a copper earth genasi woman here. In a very Cinderella move, she asks what shoes she was wearing. Then, she makes out with him which like, sure. At least it’s not a grown adult man this time. Before she gets her kisses in, she does tell the group what she learned. 

Up with the rich people, Yelle is introduced to Tal’s friend who is into Eidolons because of the name she chose. Between the shoes and her knowledge, they confirm that it’s TK! Yelle asks what she knows about Eidolons and she says that 7 is a very powerful number.

We cut to Ant who is patrolling the room as the sun sets and she suddenly hears a little beeping. It’s coming from a small crystal that was in Preston’s shirt (which she still has on her because???). Guests start dripping goo from their noses and transforming into monsters. Ant realizes that some kind of spell is happening triggered by midnight and this beeping. Hope these costumes are battle ready cause it’s fight time baybee!

Superlatives 

Danielle: Most Likely to Be on The News for Murdering Fantasy Jeff Bezos

I cannot imagine what was running through Yelle’s head when she decided that, having just rolled into a foreign country, her next move was to start using lethal force on anti-environmentalist colonizing capitalists. Like, she’s not *wrong* per se but she is wild--in all senses of the word.  

Random Thoughts

Kat keeps saying yesterday was her birthday which Ost/Izzy (and the rest of the group to a less vocal degree) are simply not having because maybe her dad would forget her birthday but her girls absolutely would not.

“You’re great because you stayed,” is the other killshot Kat line to her dad.

At a certain point Sam says, “This is so unhealthy,” to I think Yelle and like, if SAM is telling you your coping mechanisms are unhealthy, get thee to therapy.

OK, so someone, presumably Anima’s spirit, talks to Yelle as she makes her grand entrance which seems like info they should get to Talura ASAP, right? Cause that’s evidence they’re not dead-dead, just changed in form. But also Anima, girl. Don’t talk to Yelle. Talk to your rampaging sister!

"That's my secret, I stay in initiative."

Just a process note, notes are taken for the next ep and I am working on getting that recap up ASAP. As a battle ep, it will be in the abbreviated style that I did for last battle ep. 

In this episode, Penny rolls a Nat 1 (which she rerolls) and one of Brennan’s NPCs rolls a Nat 1. Ant rolls 2 Nat 20s, Yelle rolls 1, and Brennan says that one of his NPCs gets a 20 which sweeps him entirely into Sam’s dance number. 

[lazywonderlvnd]

happy halloween friends!! here’s some halloweenie smut 👻🎃👅

rating: e word count: 1,300

The Choker

Draco, fixing a dangling, glittering black spider to his ear, takes one look at the telly and rolls his eyes (which are decorated immaculately with winged liner). Harry, on the sofa, feet propped on the coffee table, smirks.

“You’re not even dressed,” says Draco. He’s still wearing his sweats and a loose T-shirt (cropped, showing off his navel and the tantalising line of his hips leading below the trousers, which always makes Harry feel distinctly weak and useless and horny); the skimpy outfit is the last thing he’ll put on before they leave in a few hours. Harry isn’t usually the world’s biggest fan of clubs like the one they’re going to, but being that it’s Halloween and Draco’s dressing like some kind of sexy slutty witch looking to get fucked in a shadowy corner, he’s willing to make the sacrifice tonight.

“I, unlike you,” says Harry, “don’t need six hours to get ready.”

“Which is why I, unlike you,” Draco returns with a drawl, “am going to look incredible. Hope you won’t feel too sad when I go off with some hot vampire thirsting after my blood. And arse,” he adds, like an afterthought. Harry laughs, grabs Draco’s elbow, and tugs him down onto the sofa beside him. Draco lets out a soft, indignant squawk that for some reason makes Harry unreasonably hard.

“I’ll deal with my raging jealousy later,” he says.

Draco is also wearing a choker — a neat, black velvet circle around his pale throat — and this more than any other part of the costume is what Harry’s looking forward to. Draco doesn’t wear them often; it’s tragic at the same time that it’s exactly what it needs to be. As much as he would have liked to see that slim, inviting band around Draco’s throat every single day, he enjoys the thrill of it in these arbitrary bursts.

For now, he presses a delicate kiss just above it on the side of Draco’s neck and feels him shiver. The dangling spider earring caresses his cheek with its tiny metallic legs.

“We have to watch this last film,” he says. His lips move on Draco’s skin as he says it and his bottom lip brushes the velvet. His libido stirs, his cock twitching. “Make it an even thirty-one.”

“Thirty-one isn’t even, halfwit.”

Harry laughs and takes the velvet between his teeth, and he’s satisfied to feel Draco swallow and make a tiny, breathy, mewling noise in his throat.

“You know what I mean,” he says. He pulls away and touches his lips to Draco’s soft cheek. Draco pouts but the flush on his skin gives him away. “We’ve watched one every night this month. Can’t miss out on Halloween itself.”

“We can when we have a party to go to.”

“Nope.” He takes the remote and starts the movie, and with a snap turns off his Muggle electrics and lights the candles instead. They decorate surfaces around the room in strategic clusters, a gorgeously intimate aesthetic Draco designed carefully. “I saved one of my favourites for last. You’re not getting out of this, we don’t have to leave for hours.”

Draco pouts. He won’t admit it but he’s very affected by horror movies; usually while they’re watching his nails end up digging into Harry’s arm and then he conspicuously requires more cuddling later on when they’re going to sleep. For eleven months out of the year Harry takes mercy on him and gets his horror fix by watching them with Ron and Hermione, but October is different. It’s the third year in a row he’d put together a marathon for the two of them and yet again Draco had complied, even when it meant he hid under a blanket for the last half hour.

“Does ‘one of your favourites’ mean it’s especially horrific?”

“No,” Harry laughs, “it’s really not that scary, I promise. Just a bit gory. I mean, it’s kind of funny, actually.”

“Harry, you told me Texas Chainsaw Massacre was funny!”

“Well, it is!”

Draco huffs loudly but quits arguing. In his defence, Harry really does think Texas Chainsaw Massacre is a hilarious film, but he supposes he can see why Draco might not share that opinion seeing as it’s not supposed to be a funny movie.

“This one is deliberately a comedy,” he assures him, as the familiar theme of Re-Animator plays and the credits roll across neon diagrams. And, just to be cheeky: “Don’t be scared, kitten.”

Draco elbows him and Harry laughs again. 

He feels Draco relaxing incrementally beside him as the film progresses through the first fifteen and then twenty minutes and nothing too horrible has happened, and he even fancies Draco might be engaged. Usually Harry would love to see this, but right now he finds himself unable to stop thinking about the choker. It’s as Herbert West begins explaining the dead cat in his freezer that Harry gives into his libido and attaches his mouth to Draco’s neck again.

Draco, who really had been absorbed in the film apparently, lets out a soft gasp that makes Harry painfully hard for him. He takes the choker between his teeth again and now Draco actually whines, shoving at Harry lightly.

“Will you stop, I’m actually enjoying this one.”

“Mm,” Harry hums against his throat, and he slides a hand over Draco’s thigh, squeezing. “I’m glad to hear it. Don’t mind me.”

He nips at Draco’s pulse point and Draco whines again.

“You do remember this film was your idea?”

Instead of answering, Harry slides his hand over Draco’s cock, hard and leaking a wet spot against his sweats. He thumbs the head and feels Draco shudder against him, another delicate sound coming out of his throat. Harry runs his nose along the velvet, breathing hot against Draco’s skin.

“Harry,” he whines.

“Yes, love?”

Draco doesn’t answer. His eyes have closed and his head is tipped back against the sofa, baring his decorated throat. Harry latches onto it and snakes his hand beneath Draco’s sweats to wrap a hand around his hard cock. Draco bucks into his grip and whines.

“You look so good in these,” Harry says, as his other hand creeps around to the back of Draco’s neck and tugs lightly at the choker, pulling it taut against his Adam’s apple. Draco’s hand, which is clutching Harry’s knee, clenches.

“You’re a fucking deviant,” Draco informs him. Harry laughs against his neck and tightens his grip, wandlessly adding lube to the equation and making his strokes longer, teasing him and drawing him helplessly towards the edge. He mouths wetly along the skin above and below the velvet, then noses it out of the way and presses his tongue to the warm skin. He tugs at the back again, more tightly this time, and that finally does it. Draco whimpers and then gasps and then comes all over Harry’s hand. Harry works him through it, moving his lips lazily along Draco’s flushed throat, ignoring his own aching arousal.

Finally, too sensitive, Draco pushes Harry’s hand away and throws an arm across his face, burning a hectic, vital red.

“My makeup is probably ruined,” he says after a minute. Harry snorts and rolls his eyes and pulls Draco’s arm away so he can kiss him properly.

“You’ve plenty of time to redo it to perfection.”

“What about you?” he asks, indicating the hard bulge in Harry’s jeans.

“I’m gonna fuck you about a million times later tonight, don’t worry about me.”

Draco scoffs but looks distinctly pleased.

“Fine. D’you mind if we finish this fucking film, then?”

“Does that mean you like it?”

“From what I’ve been allowed to actually watch, yes.”

Harry grins. He grabs for his wand to spell them clean and then pulls Draco into his side, firmly of the opinion that Halloween is the superior holiday.

[floraone]

The King’s New Clothes

So I wrote this for @nari20 because it happened, lol! (And the reason it happened is because Nari is currently doing a compilation of Mamoru Makeover Art over on twitter because she is a gift to this world and there is a MANKINI IN IT and TUX UNDERWEAR and I am LIVING and how do we deserve this woman in our midst making our days So Entertaining lol?!)

Anyway. Talking about Mamoru fashion ended in some mutual prompting so. Enjoy some Fabulous Fashionable Kendy tumblr short!

---

Utopia had taken a surprising amount of time to adjust to, and no one had had a harder time with it than the new queen of the world.

Especially in the beginning, she'd bottled it up and painted a smile over it. But Mamoru - King Endymion now, or so his official royal name, and what the fuck that would need some getting used to - had been with his wife for long enough to see the tenseness of her shoulders, know what it meant when she gripped his hand so tight.

She'd been terrified.

The leaders of the world intimidated her. Not because she was someone easily intimidated, but mostly because some of them tried very hard to do so.

She gritted her teeth through glassy eyes when another old, bald man in a bland, navy suit tried to talk down at her, and stood her ground.

But afterwards, she'd tremble in his arms in the hotel room in any capital city of the world and try to breathe in deeply through her nose. When she'd started whipping out notebooks asking him all sorts of vernacular intentionally thrown her way because she could not understand it, thinking she had to learn and asking him to tutor her even though they’d done it all on purpose, he got mad in a way he started shouting for the first time in his life outside of life and death situations.

Not at her, mind you.

But they were trying to bring down his wife, not even realising the luck they fucking had to have someone with her heart trying to make them be compassionate and humanitarian and good. Someone so unwaveringly pure, someone with her unfaltering integrity. Someone so easily finding the good in others and bringing it out.

But they'd just fucking have to learn.

He'd hired a personal translator for her then, first thing in the morning. One of what was to be one of many. Someone who'd take these terms fired at her in foreign languages and usually translated just as haughtily and arrogantly to her, and instead explain them without shrouding them in pomp and circumstance. 'Habituation' in the end, was only 'getting used to something over time', after all, for a good translator.

They might have tried to hit her at her flaws, but Mamoru was determined, at Neo Queen Serenity's side, to show off where she was better than any of these assholes combined. The world lacked love, not fancy words. Usagi had him for the fancy words.

And so, even though it all began in endless work hours that tore at Usagi, in stuffy rooms half-way around the world at any point in the year, slowly, she grew into it. If Usagi was good at one thing, it was finding positivity and joy in all manner of circumstances, and this was no different.

The climate treaty negotiations in Brussels might have been mind-numbingly infuriating, but she'd snuck them out during lunch hour to a Belgian chocolate vendor nearby who'd been making paradise for the tongue for over 300 years in their little family run-store, and Usagi's eyes lit up like this had suddenly turned into the best fucking day. She might have to try and wrangle power-hungry men, but she could also buy a restored French carousel from 1872 and put it in her sitting room, and yes, she had. And yes, she rode it.

But even those worldly pleasures that made it all more bearable for someone who struggled with having to concentrate for a minimum 60 fucking hours a week most of the time, those pleasures that had the power to balance out the fact that Tsukino Usagi did not get to sleep in anymore at all, ever, were sometimes turned sour for her.

The second time he'd shouted outside life-and-death situations, he'd found her crying over a tabloid as she emptied hanger after hanger of extravagant dresses from her wardrobe.

One of those pleasures that made it all worthwhile for her? Fucking extravagant dresses. Even when Usagi was 14 and had only just learned she'd one day be fucking queen of the world, she'd started to look at couture differently. Started collecting moodboards and clippings. She'd been looking forward to that. A teenage girl's dream of the glamourous life of being Queen.

But now that she was, this life was more work than glamour. The only glamour she got was the one she made for herself. Like carousels in sitting rooms. Like Paolo Sebastian Autumn/Winter 2018 and George Chakra Autumn/Winter 2016 and Isabel Sanchis Spring/Summer 2020 and Ralph & Russo 2017 and Dior Spring/Summer 1992.

The tabloid was horrid. 'Neo Queen Serenity: What a Little Girl Looks Like Who Mistakes Leadership for Playing Dress-Up. Is the Future in Good Hands?'

Underneath it, a spread of Usagi in glittering, sparkling, over-the-top dresses. Everywhere from cutting ribbons at the newly minted Crystal Tokyo Center for Free Childcare to sitting in week-long conferences somewhere in New Brunswick.

Sometimes, he wasn't so sure if the world even deserved her.

He'd personally hung back every hanger into this wardrobe himself, cancelled their meetings for the day much to Ami-chan's organisational horrors, and took her shopping in disguise.

That day, something profound had changed.

"This one," Usagi had said with a flushed giggle. Her cheeks were pink, her eyes were dancing. And really, if it took playing dress up for her, no garment was ridiculous enough to not be worth it.

He stepped out the dressing room in the brightest floral-patterned shiny pastel suit the world had ever seen. Baby blue and pink roses over rococo gold embroidery to bright baby blue patent leather loafers. He looked like a chandelier had fallen into fresh paint and then rolled around in confetti. And his Queen loved it.

"Well, then," he'd winked, and she'd giggled again. "Let's take five."

If they were going to make fun of her choice of clothes, he'd just have to top her game, Mamoru decided.

And really, it made so much fucking sense.

Back when he was a boy with a glimpse of he's future, he'd always wondered how the hell THAT happened. And with that, he'd of course meant something quite specific, and not the fact he'd somehow made it on a throne.

A lavender colored tuxedo that had made him frown into the night for a long, long time. A lavender colored tuxedo that had yet not found its way into his possession. One he'd begun to doubt ever would.

Of course, Mamoru had always liked the more dramatic of clothes. So far, so unsurprising. His favorite attire was a tux and cape that he could flap like no other, after all, and then came a color-blocked puff sleave shirt he'd worn until it fell apart. He'd always liked color. One didn't get married to Tsukino Usagi if they didn't adore a colorful world.

But that?

And yet the royal world they'd found in their future hadn't looked satin and lavender when they'd finally made it there. It hadn't happened. It was navy suits and etui dresses with leaded hems to they wouldn't blow up, covered shoulders and skirts that absolutely had to be no smaller than knee-length, and he supposed it had made sense. After all, the Windsors didn't run around in see-through shift dresses and tiaras, either.

He'd even been a little relieved. He liked blending in. He'd told himself, when he first saw that lavender tux when he was fucking 18 and his mind was blown with too much information he should not have had, that he wasn't gonna do it. No matter what.

Now? Now it made so much sense. Really, he should have known. Of course, this was what was gonna do it.

Someone criticize his wife? They gotta go through him.

If protecting his wife's happiness while she made the world a better place meant Lavender Suits and Capes, then this was what it'll take.

Now, he was gonna fucking do it. Of course, he was.

So no, the Windors still wore unicolor, leaded costumes in the future.

His wife wore skin-tight chiffon, silk and satin.

And he wore mermaid-colored sequined-dinner jackets. He wore heels with flamingo-patterned trousers, complete with a tuxedo stripe at each side. He wore shimmering, metallic athletic wear, skin tight. He wore fake fur collars and thick embroidered velvet robes to black leather gloves. He owned a mankini. A hot pink leather jacket he wore over men's pastel evening wear. The green jacket was jealous somewhere in a closet. Maboroshi no fucking fashion sense.

Nobody ever wrote something offending about the Queen's new clothes once he'd grooved himself in.

(Minako loved it perhaps most of all.)

---

(ANYWAY NARI *ILLUSTRATED* THIS IN THE 50 MINUTES THAT IT TOOK ME TO WRITE THIS AND YOU GOTTA SEE HER ART. LIKE WHAT THE FUCK HOW DO YOU DO MAGIC SO FAST, NARI?!)

[darter-blue]

bec, darling, would you do body worship from your prompt list for lil ol' me? 🥺😂😈

Hey there dearest. Well, Ali. I must apologise because this turned from Kinktober to whumptober. And to start its a bit more body horror? But it will work it’s way to Body worship I promise.

So here is part one of your Fic - Resurrection

Warning for Bucky Barnes recovering type anxiety and hurt/comfort

Bucky wakes to the sound of water running. The smell of wet earth and dead leaves permeate his senses as they slowly open to his surroundings. 

He aches. From head to toe, his body aches. He needs to get his eyes open to properly assess the damage. But it sure feels like he's been hit by a tank.

Or he'd fallen from some ridiculous height… had he fallen?

Bucky's last memory is of the cold… of… fear. 

Of Steve.

Steve

His memories are fleeting but he has something, an image, caught in his hand, and he curls his fingers around it to hold on. 

Steve was in the train, they both were. Zola's train. And Hydra… and that fucking Canon of a gun, some Hydra tech, blasting a hole in the side of the train… and Bucky…

He fell… didn't he?

His eyes snap open.

He looks down to find himself lying on a damp, soft surface, definitely not the snow he's expecting. 

He blinks into the mid-morning brightness, shaded by the structure above him, a jetty. The sound he's hearing is a river, a rocky shore line at his feet, dead leaves beneath him, trees behind him.

And he's… he's definitely not in Austria. Glancing around him it's all lush vegetation and rocky shorelines but there's something oddly familiar about it all and yet so, so wrong.

And as he looks down to check the ground he's woken up on (is there a bed roll, did he collapse here?) he catches sight of his outfit and then, by extension, his left arm, his left hand, and his brain freezes.

He doesn’t understand what he’s looking at but what he sees is… well it’s not good. It’s… his hand is... he wants it to be encased in some kind of metal glove. He wants this to be some elaborate costume. Steve gets to have an elaborate costume, maybe Bucky has one too. Maybe this is just the boys’ idea of a joke. 

It doesn’t feel like a joke. Bucky tries to wiggle his fingers but something is wrong. They wiggle, but it’s not… it's like there’s a lag or… they’re broken, or he’s had some nerve damage maybe. And they’re not… they're stiff and twisted and they won’t do what he wants them to do and it feels stilted. It doesn’t feel right.

And he knows. Bucky knows. This is not a costume. This is his arm. Or…

This is what has been attached to him. In place of his arm. It’s not his… it's a machine. 

And he’s waking up with it. In pain. In a strange place. With no idea how or why he’s here.

He needs to find Steve.

First things first, he needs to get up off the ground, but fuck. It hurts. His whole body feels like it’s been crushed by something. His chest aches, his head aches, his legs feel like garbage. His shoulder, his fucking shoulder is on fire. But focussing on any of this is not going to help him right now. He needs to get up. So he does.

He puts that pain in a box in the back of his mind. He uses a pillar of the jetty for support and he lifts himself up. And it's too much, for a second, it’s too much, and he vomits.

God, okay, he tells himself to just breathe. He breathes. And when he gets it together he walks. Carefully, gingerly, he walks to the trees and makes his way through them, using trunks to lean on as he passes. Letting the smell of the earth and the bark overpower the blood and the bile and whatever else it is on him he can smell.

He doesn’t know where his army uniform is. He doesn't know why he’s dressed in these strange pants with what look like black catchers pads on his knees. Covered in knives. No gun. There’s a belt and straps that don't attach to anything and no food. No rations. Nothing useful in any of the thousand pockets. 

He tries not to speculate as he walks. It won’t do him any good to panic. He needs to figure out where he is. He needs to keep as quiet as possible (though he’s not doing a great job, with the limp and the dizziness) in case he comes upon Hydra or Nazis out here. Though… it all feels so wrong.

And he realises why as he gets closer to civilisation. It looks like farm land, but it’s not european farmland. The first building he sees is a business of some kind, the sign is in English and what looks like Native American, though the name doesn’t sound familiar (he notes with some positivity that both his vision and hearing seem to be as good as ever). It looks like some kind of national park. And no one is around. He doesn’t see or hear anyone. And necessity being what it is, Bucky moves closer.

Piscataway Park, the Accokeek foundation, appears to be a national park owned and operated by the US Department of the Interior. The US. The US of A. He’s in fucking America? He sits down for that information to sink in. And then gets back up to get closer to the visitor’s centre. 

Which is empty. And pretty easy to break into with one of his handy knives, inside is food and water and so much… everything looks wrong. Bucky has seen some crazy shit fighting Hydra but this is all just… different and yet somehow the same as the America that he left behind for the war. Everything is so bright and clean and expensive. The prices on the food, on the signs over the freezer, it’s way too much. And the food itself, the packaging is so colourful. There’s so much writing… it’s all just… too much…

There’s a phone but it’s… there’s buttons where the dial should be. The handset is not even connected by a wire… and Bucky can’t use the damn thing anyway - he has no idea who to call… There’s no switch operator, just a dial tone. 

He does find some less conspicuous clothes to wear. A t-shirt and some kind of hooded sweater to cover up his monstrosity.

He finds bathrooms, full of fancy looking equipment nailed into the walls, but there’s a sink, and paper towels, and a mirror, and fucking hell. 

What happened to him?

His reflection is… jarring. His hair is long and rancid. He has a bruise under his eye and one on his temple. He has stubble. He didn’t have this much stubble when Steve pulled him out of Azzano. And he looks… bigger. His shoulders and his arms. Arm. His one arm. 

But mostly he looks…haunted.

Well. he has just woken up in the wrong country, in what seems like the wrong year. With no idea what has happened to get him here. So that really makes sense.

He takes a good minute to remove the leather contraption he’s wearing as a jacket and stares at his chest in the mirror. It takes him a minute of staring to catch his breath because what he’s looking at, the reflection of his own body, it’s… horrific. It’s… a nightmare. 

The skin around where the metal of the arm is fused to him is red and raw and painful. Covered in scar tissue. And it feels so heavy. It’s pulling at him, from the inside. Like someone has a hand inside him and is just twisting and yanking at chords of muscle, cutting into his bones. 

His chest is bruised, but nothing seems damaged. It feels like broken ribs that have been healing for weeks. Though he knows he heals fast now. Faster than before the war for sure. Gabe was always questioning him about it. Never happy to just let it go. 

And wow, okay, the muscle there is so much bigger that he remembers. Sort of like Steve’s, what he’d seen of it (tried not to look too hard, too much) the few times they’d been thrown into the same tent, or woken up from having rolled into each other camping out with the boys and washing what they could reach with freezing cold water from their canteens. 

Bucky never mentioned it, because it made Steve uncomfortable, when people talked about him the way they did. About the size of him, the look of him, the strength of him. So Bucky let the changes fly over his head and he paid attention to the important stuff instead. Was Steve eating enough for his twice as big body now? Was he sleeping enough? He seemed plenty warm, Bucky could never quite get over all that nice new warmth (Bucky’s Steve, brooklyn Steve, had always been so cold, Bucky had had to force blood into that kid’s toes with his own hands too many times to count), but was he breathing good, did his back hurt, was he getting everything he needed?

Turned out Bucky didn’t need to worry about that stuff too much after Azzano (didn’t stop him, he just learned to hide it better). 

Turns out Bucky has bigger things to worry about now. 

He throws up most of what he eats. He keeps some of the water down, refills the bottle from the tap. He washes himself as best he can with what he has and dresses in the shirt and sweater from the visitors store, drags himself back out of the bathroom, and passes a stand of pamphlets on the way to the door.

And one of them catches his eye. It has dates on it. Tour dates, it says, for March. March of 2014. 

2014.

Bucky has woken up in the future. Seventy years in the future. 

He gets behind the store counter and finds more papers with the date on them. Everything he can find is dated up to december 2013. So maybe that’s when it is. Although it seems like the place has been closed for a while - so maybe it’s later than that. 

Bucky sinks down to the floor and rests his head against the counter. He closes his eyes. Maybe if he sleeps again he can wake up back in 1945. And this is something that he and Stevie can laugh about. Maybe he can tell Stark about it.

Maybe he’ll find a flying car. 

He can’t sleep anyhow. Everything hurts. He feels so sick. And hot. And cold.

After a while he gets up again and finds a map of where he is. Maryland. He’s not far from Washington actually, he could probably walk the distance in a few hours (maybe more than that - in his current state) and in the city he’d have access to more information. He could find out… anything. Anything that might help him figure out how he got here. Why he might be here, How he can get back.

So he has a plan. And that’s what his brain needs to push that pain away again. He can do this. He can stay on task. He can get information.

And that’s what he does. He sticks close to the road, but far enough away to avoid suspicion, or cars. (The cars! They don’t fly, but fuck are they fast, and big! And colourful!)

It takes him much longer than it should. But he gets there. He avoids the smaller towns because he won’t be able to blend in there, he avoids the smell of the food from the roadside restaurants which has him bringing up more bile. Sipping more water. He follows the not great map and makes the best decisions he can make in the moment to get himself across the bridge. And then another bridge. And then finally he’s in Washington.

It’s more than his senses can take. It’s huge. The buildings are huge. The roads are crazy. The people are everywhere.

It’s not that different from what he remembers, but just more somehow. He has the hood of his sweater up to cover his mess of hair, as much of his face as he can. And it's a very good thing. Because the first image that accosts him, from screens that cover a back wall of the first busy bar he walks into, screens with colour pictures, brilliant pictures, is his own haunted face.

It’s Bucky, this new terrifying version. And he’s reeking havoc. Shooting up a crowded street. He’s watching the pictures and it has him ready to vomit again, though there’s truly nothing left in his stomach, and he’s on his way to find a bathroom or a dumpster to do just that, when the image on the screen changes and it's Steve.

It’s Steve.

He looks dead.

He’s being lifted onto a stretcher, he’s being placed into an ambulance. Bucky uses his hearing, hones in on the newscasters voice to hear her say he’s being taken to a hospital. She doesn’t say which one.

So that leaves Bucky to figure out how many hospitals there are and just go to them all until he finds him. 

And then the footage changes again and it’s Bucky again… and he’s… he’s shooting at Steve in the street. 

Oh god, no. That’s not right. That’s not him. He wouldn’t do that. Maybe Hydra cloned him. Maybe the pictures aren’t real…

But he can feel in his gut that something is so very wrong

Oh god.

Oh god.

He needs to find Steve, he needs to get out of here, he needs to breathe. To breathe. People are starting to stare and he has to get out. He bursts onto the street and runs. To anywhere, he doesn’t know. His legs give out soon enough and he ducks behind a building to collapse. 

He breathes. He keeps breathing until he starts to calm down. The nausea passes somewhat. The image of Steve lifted into an ambulance, being shot at in the street, is enough to shut the panic down. There is important work to be done, he has no time to fall apart. He needs to find Steve.

It takes him a few small thefts here and there, the minor break in of an unoccupied newsstand, to find a page of hospital listings and directions to follow.

It takes him even longer to find the right hospital.

But when he comes upon Medstar Georgetown University Hospital, the extra hustle and bustle, the armed men at the main entrance, he figures this has to be the place. Bucky pulls his hood low, (he’s had his metal hand kept securely slotted into one of his many pockets all night) and finds the easiest and least noticeable way to get inside through a huge concreted underground parking garage where the staff entrance is sitting completely empty of armed men. 

Once inside he sticks to the crowded areas, watches the movements of the people looking the most military, they’re milling mostly around the third floor. At least they're looking after Steve better here than at the entrance. But Bucky will have to be more careful because of it. A hooded sweater and an indifferent attitude probably won't get him to Steve unnoticed. 

He takes note of the people looking the most harried, the most like hospital staff. It's hard to tell the doctors from the nurses from the orderlies, they all seem to be wearing different versions of the same uniform. Almost like pyjamas. And this could work in Bucky’s favour. He takes his time to wander back down to the floor below and finds a tall silver trolley full of folded linens and clothing, he requisitions some of the pyjama like pants and a matching shirt and then from an unoccupied utility closet, finds a hair net to hide his mess of hair up into and blue gloves to pull over his hands. He squeezes his way to getting changed inside the closet, leaving the long sleeve t-shirt under the uniform to cover his metal arm and straightens it all out as best he can. He grabs a folder from a nearby desk, just like the ones he sees other hospital staff walking around with, no one is paying him any mind, and then makes his way back upstairs. 

And from there it's a snipers game. At least an hour of watching and waiting, breathing through pain and nausea, until he finds his opportunity to get into Steve’s room. A man he recognises from the footage at the bar, footage of Bucky shooting at Steve, a man who had been wearing wings and flying, actually flying through the sky, exits the room and speaks to the guards before leaving for parts unknown. 

And Bucky, who has passed the guards now a few times looking busy, passes by them now into Steve's room with a nod and one of his most casually trustworthy smiles (Bucky knows just how to use his face to get out of trouble - even as sallow and pale as he is looking right now). And he stops short at what he finds inside. 

Bucky is all too aware of how much damage Steve can take in his new body. But this is…

This is terrifying.

His face is black and blue, bloody, swollen. Bucky might say unrecognisable, but it would be a lie. Bucky doesn't need to see Steve's face to recognise him. Bucky could recognise Steve by the sound of his breathing, by the smell of him. By the essence of his presence alone. Bucky would know Steve anywhere.

Did he do this? 

Did Bucky do this to Steve?

His moment of indecision doesn't last. He's propelled forward by the movement of Steve's chest rising. By the flutter of his ridiculous lashes. He presses close to Steve, leaning over from his bedside, touching him gently with his flesh and blood hand, his own hand, to feel the warmth of him through the bedclothes, through the gloves. 

A sigh of relief runs through Bucky at that familiar warmth under his fingertips. 

And it's as Bucky stands by Steve's side, hand flat against his chest, face just inches from Steve’s, that those bright summer blue eyes Bucky knows so well blink slowly open. His head turns just a little to look up at Bucky and his cracked, bruised, bleeding lips spread into a smile.

'Steve?' Bucky whispers, 'Oh thank god, Stevie.'

But something in his tone hits wrong. Some kind of desperation maybe, because Steve’s smile is waning. A hardness is flooding his expression. The more conscious he becomes, the angrier he looks. 

He pulls back from Bucky, just a fraction. An inch at most. But it's a chasm to Bucky, that distance. And Bucky pulls back too, instinctively, removing hishand from Steve’s chest. 

Steve looks at him, at as much of Bucky as he can see from the position he's in, and then to the room around them. 'What is this?'

‘Steve?’

‘Who are you?’ His eyes are flicking around the room like he’s looking for clues. He’s panicking.

'It's me, Stevie, it's Bucky.' Bucky uses the calm voice he always needed to bring Steve back from an episode. ‘It’s me.’

'No.'

And that hurts. That cuts into Bucky like a blade. This is his Steve, he knows it. But maybe… maybe in the future Steve doesn't know him? Doesn't remember him? 

He steps back a little and takes the net from his hair. 'I look different, I know,' he says, working to keep his breathing even, to keep the stress out of his voice,  'Something… something happened to me.'

And Steve is looking at him. Watching him. Bucky lifts his chin, tries to let Steve see him. Looks him in the eye and hopes, prays, that Steve can see him in there. 'Bucky?' Steve finally whispers, reaching towards Bucky with an aborted movement, 'Buck?' He says louder, slipping as he tries to sit himself up in bed.

‘It’s me, it is me,’ Bucky says, placing his hand on Steve’s shoulder, trying to discourage him from moving and dislodging the cacophony of tubes that seem to be connected to him and a million pieces of flashing, beeping equipment.

Steve looks down at the hand on his shoulder, the metal hand, not really Bucky’s, and Bucky reaches down to slip his real hand, his right hand, over Steve’s where it rests on the bed. ‘It’s really you?’

And Bucky wants to cry at the relief in  Steve's tone. But it scares him too. 'Oh god, Stevie' - his breath hitches on Steve’s name - 'oh god, what happened to us?'

'Its okay, Bucky, it's okay,' Steve is shushing him, has reached his other hand over to cover Bucky’s where it covers Steve’s, 'It's not your fault, it wasn't your fault.'

'Wasn't my fault?' Bucky asks, not understanding.

'Hydra, any of it. What they did to you. What you did. It wasn't you.'

(Hydra. It's always Hydra, isn't it? Whenever he closes his eyes he can feel them waiting there in his nightmares. Of course they would be torturing him still. All the way into the future).

‘What they did?’ Bucky asks again, and then hears Steve’s words, remembers the film stock from the screens at the bar, ‘What I did?’

‘You don’t remember?’

'I don’t really remember much,’ he says, shaking his head like he can jog something loose, find something hidden, ‘How did we get to the future, Steve?'

And Steve is looking at him. His eyes wide. He's working himself up the bed, up to a sitting position - despite how painful it must be. 'What do you remember, Bucky?'

‘I…’ Bucky looks at Steve, at the raised eyebrows, at the clenched jaw, the tight fisted grip he has on the sheets under Bucky’s hand, ‘I remember the train,’ he says, swallowing, trying to fit his horror into a small, sealable box, ‘I remember falling,’ he looks aways from Steve for the first time since he entered the room, ‘I remember your face, getting further and further away.’

Steve’s breathing has ticked up. He’s doing that thing he does to hide his short sharp breaths from Bucky, but this is not an asthma attack, this is anxiety. This is worry. For Bucky. ‘Buck, it’s okay.’

‘I woke up on the side of a river, in a national park, not in Austria, in America, Steve, and it’s twenty goddam fourteen,’ he’s whispering and it’s painful, he’s got no control over the words, they just come right out of his mouth, like more bile, ‘I woke up in the future Steve, the future! What happened, why was I shooting at you? Why was I shooting at everybody? What did they do to me?’

Steve is reaching up one of his giant hands to cup it around the back of Bucky’s neck, squeezes it, kneads his thumb into the pressure point below Bucky’s ear. Bucky just leans into it, leans into Steve’s fingers, their weight around his neck. Leans into that comfort. ‘Bucky look at me, listen to me,’ Steve turns his laser focus to Bucky’s eyes and holds him firm, ‘You weren’t you, when you were shooting at me, you were compromised-’

Bucky dreads to think what compromised means, especially the way it sticks to Steve’s tongue, like he can barely get the word out.

‘-But, Buck, we need to get you out of here,’ Steve looks around at the rest of the room, at the door, at where he’s probably sure the guards will be standing, ‘Sam and Nat will be around somewhere, hopefully, and I can probably get them to help us, but nobody else can see you, okay?’

Bucky is nodding, he figured as much anyway, but he doesn't want to interrupt Steve, not when he’s so spooked. And Bucky can hear the flying guy on his way back, can hear him talking to the guards outside, and quickly adjusts the net back over his hair, tucking it away. Steve must be able to hear him too, because he’s moving his hand down from Bucky’s neck and back to the bed.

Bucky feels the absence of it like a blow. 

And when the door opens Steve holds out a hand to the man who freezes at the sight of Bucky. Looks to Steve and puts his hands up. Lets the door close behind him and doesn’t take his eyes of Steve and Bucky.

‘Steve?’ the man asks, doesn’t elaborate.

‘It’s okay, he’s friendly, he won't hurt us,’ Steve is saying, calm and even, like he’s talking to a skittish animal, ‘Sam, don’t do anything, just hear me out.’

Bucky wants to shrink into himself. Wants to disappear for putting that look on the man, Sam’s, face. ‘Okay,’ Sam says, his voice low and rich, his arms loose and by his sides, ‘You have ten seconds.’

Bucky is pretty sure that won’t be enough.

[helluvascribe]

Fallen (post episode 4)

 Cletus, Keenie and Collin broke down in heavy tears as they surveyed the area around them. The audience lay slumped and dead in their seats after being shot with arrows and bullets. Metal scaffolding lay bent and wrecked on the wooden stage where Blitzo, Moxxie and Millie were moments before. The former opera singer now lay dead and crushed underneath a stage light that had fallen on top of her. And underneath a broken piano lay the dead crushed body of Lyle Lipton, the elderly inventor they had tried to save.

 The scene was eerie and empty. The nervous well-dressed piano guy had promptly fled the scene, traumatized after the events. And those accursed imps had jumped through a portal back to Hell in triumph.

 As Cletus cried some more, fountains of tears sprung from his eyes. Keenie and Collin rushed in to comfort him. The trio had never felt so vulnerable before.

 “I…I can’t believe this!” Cletus wailed. “We were so close to helping out that man…even though he was shitty and old…”

 “Language,” chided Keenie.

 Cletus continued. “We did everything right, but now we can’t get back through.”

 “It’s not…completely your fault,” Collin said, putting a hoof on his leader’s back in comfort. “It was all an accident.”

 Cletus raised an eyebrow at his comrade. “What do you mean ‘not completely?’”

 “Well…” Collin began.

 “You’re right, it was those imps’ doing!” Keenie interrupted, her white lacy wings flapping in frustration. “If only Deerie had seen what they were doing to us.”

 The three took some deep breaths and sobs as they slowly calmed down. With a wave of his hand, their fancy dresses and tuxedos clothes were replaced by their regular outfits: reddish overalls for Cletus, a light blue shirt and white bow tie for Collin and a yellow dress for Keenie.

 “What do we do now?” Collin asked, almost in a whisper.

 “First thing’s first,” said Cletus. “We find a safe place to stay for a while. Who knows how long we’ll have to stay on Earth?” The others nodded in agreement.

 “Urgh,” Keenie scowled. “First those filthy demonic trash decide to mock us and now we have to live among these…messy mortals?”

 “Oh come on,” Collin gave a small smile as the three left the theater. They looked again sadly at the deceased humans and made crosses with their hands before flying away through an open window. “Things will work out. We’ve helped humans all the time. Surely they can’t be that bad!”

  The three of them later gasped in sheer horror on the streets in a nearby town. A homeless man sat on a corner smoking a cigarette, while his comrade vomited alcohol down a sewer drain. A large man with a mustache ripped off a woman’s shirt as she leaned into him with a messy kiss in an alleyway. A skinny thief snatched a woman’s purse before he was brutally shot in the head by a man with a baseball cap. Two men were fighting each other and swearing, one of them landing a punch that toppled the other to the ground. As a policeman dragged a body away, a nearby band blared on bloodstained instruments. The logo on the drum read “Hail Satan!” in red messy paint.

 A group of men sitting on a bench glanced at the cherubs hungrily.

 “Anyone want mutton chops tonight?” The others laughed and displayed sinister grins.

 C.H.E.R.U.B. stood with open mouths for several seconds. Cletus laughed nervously and made a motion with his arm and fist. “Let’s go check out someplace else!”

 The three took to the sky, trying not to look at the watchful eyes of passerby.

 Collin’s fluffy light indigo ears perked up. “Hey, I know what we can do! We can keep doing our job like before, helping people in need! Now that those imps are back in Hell, we are free to do what we like.”

 Keenie shook her head. “As much as I want to, I don’t think we should just yet. I’m worried that we’ll just cause more deaths.”

 “I might have to agree as well,” said Cletus. “I mean, how can we tell anyone about our accomplishments if we aren’t in Heaven anymore?”

 “I miss my mom and dad,” Collin whined. “How will they react when they find out about what we’ve done?” He gasped. “What if they already know? What if all of Heaven knows and now sees us as…one of them?”

 The others gasped.

 “You don’t mean…” Keenie began.

 Cletus rapidly shook his head. “No, no, no, no! I refuse to believe that our one mistake would lead us into becoming demons!”

 “What if…it’s already too late?” Keenie wondered in fear.

 Collin imagined all three of them trapped in long black demonic hands, their wings and halos gone. Flames turning their eyes red and their skin a charred black. The pale face of Lucifer towering behind them and letting out a maniacal laugh.

 “Oh my gosh, oh my god!” Collin cried, his eyes wide as he shook his head free of the fear.

 Keenie slapped him hard on the head. “Hey, I told you to not use the Lord’s name in vain!” Collin sobbed again and rubbed his large white wool of hair as he flew beside them.

  The setting sun turned the sky a brilliant orange as the three cherubs searched for a safe place to stay the night. Their white feathery wings and halos glowed and flickered in the fading light. Their silhouettes followed the setting sun before they landed in a quieter part of town. Neon signs were already humming in the twilight. From inside nearby windows, several woman were wearing dark lace and high heeled boots, pole-dancing to upbeat music. The cherubs huddled close together, staying under streetlights to avoid the dark unknown. Their wings flapped silently as they moved forward inches off the ground.

 “I miss Heaven’s comforting light,” Keenie sighed. “And God’s light most of all. It seems like this place is devoid of it.”

 “There’s always good somewhere in the world,” said Collin with a hopeful expression. “You just have to know where to look.”

 “The only thing I see are shabby buildings and humans indulging in their disgusting desires,” Cletus remarked. He mentioned to a nearby man who burped loudly after stuffing an entire pizza into his mouth. “The sooner we get home, the better.”

 Collin took a piece of cheese he bought and popped it into his mouth. He grumbled. “The food here is prison food in comparison to what we have back home. It just tastes so…bland and heavy.”

 Keenie munched half-heartedly on a carrot. “It’s still edible at least.”

 “Demons eat nothing but raw meat,” Cletus added. “Back up above, we could enjoy all the vegetables, holy fruits, and drinks we wanted. Every day was an endless buffet…”

 “Stop making me hungry,” Collin remarked. They fell into silence as a nightly breeze ruffled their clothing and wooly fur.

 “I think we should get human disguises soon,” Collin later mentioned as they hovered over the sidewalk.

 “Yeah, like those hideous costumes worked out well for those imps,” Cletus rolled his eyes. “Relax, Collin. I’m sure some of the humans will notice and treat us with the respect I…um, we deserve.”

 Collin huffed. “I sure hope so.” He clapped his large front hooves together nervously as if trying to say something. As they continued hovering past some alleyways, a low growl was heard. Keenie paused, her hair stood on end.

  “Guys…what was that?” Keenie asked, looking around.

 “Probably just Collin’s stomach,” Cletus mentioned.

 “No, I swear it wasn’t me,” he said. “Through I am very hungry.”

 The growling grew louder…it seemed to be coming from behind them. The three slowly turned around and spotted a figure in the shadows. It was a large gray canine with beady black eyes…and very sharp teeth. Drool dribbled onto the ground by its paws.

 The cherubs screamed and scattered away in flight. The dog barked loudly and raced after them. The cherubs zoomed up ahead, avoiding passing cars and maneuvering around figures of people. They zoomed over black trash bags as the dog barreled through them at high speed. The dog raced on all fours, snapping its jaws as it moved closer to them.

 “Get back!” Keenie called, moving her yellow hooves in a frantic kick, just missing its face. The beast just grabbed at her dress with its teeth and yanked.

 “Aaaahhhh! Get off, you beast!” she cried.

 Cletus yelled in fury and raised his hand in the air as he flew. He then glanced upward in sheer shock.

 “I can’t summon my golden crossbow!”

 Collin flew nearby, muttering a prayer while shaking. He took a deep breath and speed toward the dog. He landed a punch to the dog’s eyes…and with a yelp, the dog let go of Keenie’s dress with a rip. Keenie gasped and shook herself. “My dress!” she cried as she stared at the torn slobbery hole. “Look at my dress!”

 “Be thankful it’s not your backside,” Cletus mentioned. Keenie seethed at him as Collin came flying back toward them, the dog at his heels. Keenie shoved Collin backwards toward the dog, sending the both of them tumbling to the ground.

 Cletus and Keenie flew as fast as they could until Keenie spotted a beacon in the distance. A tall brick building had a large white Christian Cross on top of it, appearing golden as the sun continued to set. Several stained glass windows showed images of Jesus and the Virgin Mary surrounded by golden backgrounds. Even more spectacular was a nearby towering Christmas tree decorated with gold and silver ornaments and a six pointed star at the top.

 “A church!” she called. “Hurry!”

 They landed in front of the large wooden double doors, catching their breath.

 “My wings are sore,” Cletus groaned.

 “No more flying for a while,” Keenie agreed.

 Cletus knocked politely on the door. “Hello? Anybody in there?”

 So far, no answer.

 Just then, they heard panting from behind them. They whirled around…only to find Collin hunched over, his clothes torn up. There were several scratches all over him.

 “Oh Collin, thank goodness,” Cletus sighed in relief.

 “Keenie…” Collin began. “What was that back there?! I’m lucky I escaped at all!”

 “I had to distract the dog so we could get away,” she said.

 Collin glared and stomped one of his cloven feet. “That’s the second time you pushed me in harm’s way! And the first time was with a whole pack of wild animals!”

 “You’re still fine, right?” she asked.

 Collin let out a “ha!” followed by a “no.”

 “Don’t ever do that again,” he said, folding his arms. The cherubs waved their hands and their clothes and skin were repaired.

 Just then, the door solely opened. A woman dressed in a black robe stared into the distance. “Hello?”

 “Down here,” said Cletus. She looked down with surprise in her eyes.

 “May I help you?”

 “Hi,” said Cletus. “We got lost from our home and now we have nowhere to go. May we stay for a bit?”

 The woman peered closer at them, narrowing her eyes. “You three look familiar…”

 The cherubs gulped. Seconds dragged on.

 “Do I know you?”

 “Um…” Cletus began, sweat trickling down his forehead.

 “Of course!” she called, standing up. “You’re those guardian angels who go out and save people, yes?”

 Cletus stood proudly. “Yep, that’s us!” The other two let out soft gasps and looked at Cletus in worry.

 The woman looked around. “Hurry, inside now,” she said. “The world is full of people willing to take advantage of you savior children.”

 The cherubs bowed in thanks before heading through the door.

 “Technically, I’m twenty-four,” Cletus muttered.

 “I thought we were hundreds of years old,” wondered Keenie.

 Collin grinned, redness briefly spreading to his cheeks. “You’re so beautiful, you don’t look a year over two-hundred.”

 Keenie “bahed” at him in annoyance before they made it into the main chamber. The high vaulted ceiling made even the cherub angels feel small. The sky was a dark indigo through the opening above. Rows of arched gaps circled the area near the ceiling, and stone pillars held the ceiling on either side. The floor was in a black and white checkered pattern while a few Greek inspired designs caught Cletus’ attention. The rows of seats were polished and clean, and several white candles were lit in holders, emitting a peaceful glow.

 The woman made way for them and came back with a bowl of fruit and grass. Collin munched on blueberries, Keenie on pineapple slices and Cletus started on red apples. Cletus stared into the apple’s red surface. “Just like the Garden of Eden,” he said to himself. “When Eve ate from the Tree of Knowledge, she had disobeyed God’s order. She gave the fruit to Adam who then ate one. God banished them from the Garden, cursed them to grow old and die…thus began the fall of man…”

 Cletus stared closely at the apple’s surface, the red morphing into the face of a red goat. A grin of sharp white teeth, red eyes surrounded by black, a glowing black Ring with a Roman numeral five on it…

 “Are you okay?” Collin asked.

 Cletus whipped his head to Collin. “Oh yes, I’m fine, I’m fine,” he said, forcing a grin.

 Cletus turned and set the apple aside.

 “I sure hope we don’t age too,” Keenie added in concern. “I don’t want to lose my pretty face and looks.”

 “That inventor managed to survive for a while,” Collin said.

 “Barely,” Cletus mentioned.

 “We’re still angels,” mentioned Collin. “It is very rare for us to be erased from existence without good reason…”

 “Please don’t say such things!” mumbled Keenie.

 The woman went up to the ornate alter and poured in some herbs into an incense burner. The smell of frankincense and myrrh calmed the cherubs down after a while.

 “I’ll leave you to it,” said the woman. “Stay for as long as you need but stay out of sight more often than naught. If you need anything, just let me know. Be careful dear sheep babies.”

 “Bless you miss,” said Cletus.

 The cherubs bowed in thanks as she left.

 “Sheep babies?” Cletus scowled. “I’m not a freaking baby!”

 “Don’t worry about it,” said Collin.

 Keenie walked up to a stone basin nearby as Collin and Cletus bickered for a bit. Gazing in a small pool of holy water, Keenie thought she saw a ghostly face of a pale woman with long blonde hair, a black crown and large curved horns. The face briefly shifted to another white face with orange eyes and flaming wild auburn colored hair. She blinked a few times and it was gone. She only saw her wide-eyed reflection faintly on the surface. She turned away and arrived beside her comrades.

 The altar before them was made of gold, as was the ornate cross situated on top.

 Keenie, Collin and Cletus knelt down in prayer, tears falling from their faces.

 “Oh mighty Lord, please have mercy on us,” Cletus said. “Please forgive us for the mistakes we made here on Earth.”

 “Father…we only tried to help a broken man get onto the right path,” Keenie said. “We didn’t mean to kill him.”

 “We just want to go home,” Collin added. “We’ll take whatever punishment you give us but please…tell us if there is anything we can do…”

 More moments passed as night fell. Stars and a moon were visible through the glass windows.

“God help the outcasts,” Collin chanted softly. “God help our cherub people. We look to you still. If you can’t help us, nobody will.”

 “I ask for glory. I ask for fame. I ask for redemption to shine on our name,” added Cletus.

 Keenie continued the chant.  “We ask for your guidance, a way to get by. Help us right our fate, listen to our cry.”

 Cletus finished, “Father, Jesus Christ, and the Holy Ghost, please watch over us.”

 All three said “Amen!” before a colorful portal of clouds opened above them. The cherubs each looked up.  

 “Lord Gabriel?” asked Cletus. “Is that you?”

 A sound of clapping hooves greeted them, followed by a haughty laugh.

 “My my, what a marvelous…pitiful performance!”

 The brown furry face of a winged deer cherub came into view. A sense of smugness and superiority was clearly reflected in her eyes.

 “Deerie?!” the cherubs cried, their faces morphing into angry scowls.

 “Wow, I’d expect a more proper welcome from deferential devotees such as yourselves. The human world getting to you so soon?”

 “What are you doing here?” Keenie asked. “We called for Gabriel.”

 “Gabriel sends you his best regards, and says that you guys can rise again and be fully redeemed after a while…”

 The cherubs smiled until she added, “heheh, yeah, no.”

 Their faces fell.

 “I’m afraid you guys can’t re-enter Heaven, like I said before. Nothing you can do about it. Rules and all.”

 Cletus turned red in the face. “But it was an accident! The imps fought us off. They were the ones trying to kill Lyle Lipton!”

 “But they didn’t, correct? Based on what Heaven has seen, you three not only killed Lyle unintentionally…but you caused much more death and suffering.”

 “What?!” all three cried out.  

 Collin thought back to all the dead audience members. They had been so involved in fighting off their rivals that they didn’t even notice them.

 “It was I.M.P.’s fault!” Keenie argued.

 “Yes, but you also played a role in it,” Deerie explained. “You blindly shot your arrow, which later caused the piano to crush the old man. We see everything, you know.”

 Cletus then turned to Collin. “About that time earlier when you said it ‘wasn’t completely my fault…’”

 Collin stood his ground. “It was though. It was all our faults.” He jabbed a hoof into Cletus. “But you were so adamant to kill off those imps that you didn’t consider who else would be at risk. We should’ve taken the fight outside! I tried to tell you guys earlier!”

 “You’re a literal sheep,” Cletus replied, getting into Collin’s face. “You never said a word; you just followed my orders like you were supposed to.”

 “Those imps are nothing more than dirt that the dead tread on,” Keenie added. “We may be angels, but we never go down without a fight. Surely you’d do well with being less of a wimp, Collin.”

 Collin scoffed. “I’m sorry. I thought we were supposed to be the good guys. The loving guardians who actually help those we meet. I just realized that we didn’t let Lyle Lipton learn his little lesson.”

 “Five times fast,” Cletus snickered, but Collin ignored him.

 “We didn’t tell Lyle how sinful it is to be so immersed in his own greed. He really could’ve used his riches for good if we had stayed to help him like we were supposed to! We should’ve explained to our victims why any of their bad behaviors were wrong. But instead we just left them all behind!”

 “What did you think we were trying to do?!” Keenie yelled. “We showed him nature, childhood wonderment, young love and the arts. And it would’ve worked if it weren’t for those meddlesome…”

 “You done?” Deerie casually asked in the air. She finished filing her hooves and had a bag of popcorn with her. The cherubs turned back to her.

 “Far from it, bitch!” Keenie yelled.

 “Language!” Collin warned.

 “You three have learned nothing, huh? You see scraps, I was briefly summoned here by you guys and I gotta get back soon, so I may as well elaborate on your consequences. Let’s see…”

 Deerie summoned her clipboard and her reading glasses. On her notepad, she had drawn cats and Invader Zim characters. A side note read “more musical episodes?”

 “Not only did you kill one human, but you also killed multiple mortals in the theater. This has made Azrael, the Angel of Death very upset. There are many people that are chosen to die at certain times and let me tell you, having to cross and uncross multiple names can get pretty irksome.”

 The cherubs stood silent.

 “In other words, you’re also in trouble for simply…oh I don’t know…doing a business and going to Earth without the permission from your superiors! A big no-no.”

 “But we were saving people’s lives, and teaching them God’s true path…” Cletus began.

 “…or more than likely, saving humans just to boost about your company accomplishments.”

 “I knew it!” Collin called, glaring at Cletus. “Our main purpose is to help humans because it’s the right thing to do. I knew I should have stayed at my record-keeping job.”

 “You and Keenie thought joining C.H.E.R.U.B. with me was a good idea and it was!” Cletus protested.

 “Cherubs are supposed to do various record keeping for soul count, religions, sins and choices made by humans etc.,”Deerie said. “Just proves that I do my job better than you three after all!”

 Keenie smirked. “You sure you’re still not jealous because we got to go on exciting adventures? That we became more famous than you?”  

 Deerie chuckled. “More like infamous now. Cletus especially, you gave into your pride and wrath during the fight. You cherubs are supposed to help spread the holy word of God, and not go into the human world unless necessary.”

 The cherubs lowered their heads a bit.  

 “Not to mention several people you saved ended up as criminals. You know, the kind of people who abuse their children, scam others into giving them money, enslaving citizens in other countries…”

 “How were we supposed to know all of that?!” Keenie cried. “We saved their lives at the request of their loved ones in Heaven!”

 “Which, in turn can cause more global suffering and even an altering of history itself,” Deerie explained. “Lyle was destined to die and go to Hell anyway. Your actions are not befitting to your titles as cherubs in the first place. I’m surprised no one has managed to sell you on the black market yet. I guess you can be referred to as…black sheep now!”

 Deerie burst into laughter, slapping her furry knees.

 “Get out,” Cletus muttered.

 Deerie laughed some more, wiping tears from her large eyes. “Oh dearie me, I’m so clever!”

 Cletus thought he saw a grinning man’s face with red eyes and licking his lips behind Deerie.

 Cletus shook the vision away before yelling, “No I’m serious, get the fuck out!”

 “Language!” the other three shouted, their voices echoing in the vast space. The silence was deafening. Or the noises were hearing.

 “Well then, I wish you three a fun time on Earth,” Deerie said. “Feel free to not call me again. I have no use dealing with fallen sheep anyway.”

 “Can you at least tell us what will happen to us next?” Collin asked.

 “Oh that’s actually pretty simple,” Deerie explained.  “I.M.P. will be dealt with in due time. But as for you three…”

 She pointed her hooves at Collin, Cletus and Keenie, who each gasped in turn. “In Gabriel’s words: ‘You will still redeem and protect human souls but this time under closer supervision. You will learn to live among them for a while in the hopes that your arrogance toward those different from yourselves will subside over time. Only after your true redemption may you return to Heaven. I have the utmost faith in you.’ End quote.”

 The three cherubs sighed in relief.

 “Oh one last thing,” Deerie grinned. “I forgot to tell you the best part.” Collin and the others did not like the look on her face.

 Deerie continued. “Now that you’re here on Earth, you will all be vulnerable to human emotions and sins. Pride, greed, lust, anger, you know it.”

 “Not gonna happen lady,” Keenie spat with her hands on her hips.  

 “Everyone save for God has flaws. You didn’t think that redeeming yourselves would be a stroll in the clouds did you?”

 The cherubs looked at each other.

 “Yeah, so basically you all have a limited time to prove yourselves on Earth. A couple days at the very least?”

 Collin whimpered with droopy ears as his white halo above him briefly flickered.

 “Yeah, so if you don’t complete your mission in time…it’s a one-way trip down for you!”

 The cherubs yelled while grabbing onto each other.

 “Yes indeed!” Deerie said. “I can see you three reluctantly joining up with I.M.P.’s rivals to enact your revenge, turning into the winged devils you were destined to become!”

 “Nooooooo!” they cried in horror.

 Deerie then let out a childish laugh, waving her hoof. “But hey, that’s just a theory! I look forward to hearing about your…pandemonium adventures in the next few episodes!”

 Deerie waved and called, “That’s a wrap! Bye!”

 Cletus charged at her again, but she vanished through the portal and it closed.

 “No, no, no!” Cletus sobbed again, his co-workers comforting him.

 After several minutes, the cherubs stared at the stars and moon through one long window.

 “You know guys,” Collin admitted, “Though you might be a pain in my behind at times, you’re still like my family. Whether we’re in Heaven, Earth or Hell…we can get through anything as long as we stick together.”

 Keenie gave Collin a comforting side hug. Cletus soon joined in and he sighed. “That’s one thing we can all agree on.”

 After staring at the heavens, Cletus said, “We’d better rest up…we have lots of work to do.”

 The three cherubs huddled together underneath another Christmas tree, sleeping on a comfortable red rug.

 Though the mighty had fallen, they could only hope that the meek could rise.

[yanderecandystore]

Halloween Costumes [Yandere!OCS - Headcanon]:

Here is a little scenario I thought it would be cute to share. I'll answer your asks soon, is just that it has been kinda hard to create in this couple of days. This is just a little Headcanon about what types of costumes would my characters wear on Halloween night.

🍒 Bullies 🍭:

→Alexandra Coldwell:

A mummy, oddly enough. Although the twins are always expected to wear something similar every now and then, when it comes to halloween they rarely ever match costumes. Alexandra had a bunch of options inside her head, but a mummy was what she had decided to go with. Why? No one really knows, neither does she. It just felt fitting.

She is absolutely one of the cutest evilest mummies you would ever meet tho. Instead of being just toilet paper, you'll see a bandage cutie covered in gold and jewels.

→Adrien Coldwell:

He normally doesn't care about what costume he will choose, as long as he can exaggerate his costume in a fancy way. This year, why not go with a classic homoerotic vampire? Just because he is lazy and doesn't really care for what costume he chooses, doesn't mean he won't put in a lot of effort to interpret the most dramatic vampire you would ever meet. He could just wear a cape and a pair of fangs, but what is the fun in that?

Expect a really extravagant vampire boy with a sassy attitude to really seal the whole character. Just make sure he doesn't get his role over his head and starts to bite people.

🍎 Teacher 📕:

→Madeline Allen:

Little riding hood, for obvious reasons. I mean, as a teacher that already offers cookies to every single student she meets along the way, why not dress as a character that holds treats in a little basket? It could be really fun to give students and other teachers candies while dressing as a character from her favorite fable. Also because, well, red is her favorite color.

You would see her passing through school halls while maintaining her character just for fun. Although she would serve candy to everyone, she would make sure to give you more than everyone else.

→Matthew Robinson:

Werewolf. He is… Not exactly the most creative person (neither am I-). He likes the stories he heard when he was a kid about the wolves that lived in the woods around his town. Maybe he was really naive, but just the thought of finding one of them walking around would be enough to stop him from sneaking out of his house at night, until he was old enough to know that no, werewolves aren't real.

You should have seen his face while searching for an online costume. He found some of the most questionable things under the search of "Werewolves". Not that the costumes were necessarily bad, but not exactly the best for the public eye. He decided to wear something really, really simple but that would still be recognizable.

He still bought one of the questionable ones, just… For the curiosity of it. Maybe he'll need it one day, who knows.

🍋 Delinquent 🐍:

→Janette Sartorius:

Frankenstein. She thinks she can pull it off just because she has a bunch of scars. She just needs some paint and some "extra effects". She is planning on scaring people, either because she is going to be part of a "haunted house" attraction, or because she couldn't contain the need to make someone terrified. I imagine her volunteering to be part of a scare attraction to both earn her some money, but also if it's for some sort of fundraiser.

She is absolutely terrible at doing it on her own, so the effects are to help her acting so it doesn't feel so lacking. Would you help her set everything up?

→Jackson Macnee:

Michael Myers. Or Jason, he isn't sure yet. Any Slasher is fine for him. Especially since because of his height no one takes him seriously, so he is, uhn… Planning on changing that. Yes, yes he is salty that people offer him candy as if he is a little kid. He still takes them, but, ya know?? It's not cool… He prefers cigarettes and the blood of his enemies (coughs don't worry, he is being edgy again coughs).

Okay that's not really true, but come on! He has his own gang, he has robbed and he has hurt people almost to the point of killing them, he deserves some respect don't you think?

I'm joking around but like, you should probably keep an eye on him. His costume is covering his face and his digitals, so if the idea of murdering someone on Halloween night ever crosses his mind, I think you should stay close to him so he doesn't kill some rich kids or something.

👾 A.I 🍏(non-binary):

→Yuma Soma:

Doesn't really know the importance of this day. In their game, there was a halloween like event, where all characters wear spooky outfits, their original one was the skeleton, so they might as well choose a skeleton costume.

Yuma is starting to really like this holiday, as through the whole month everyone seems so excited and happy just because it's a spooky month. They're kinda jealous of the little kids that get free candy, doesn't they deserve some as well?? They're just if not more adorable than all of these pipsqueaks.

Because they're new to this whole shenanigan, you better tell them that A: they can't eat all the candy, it doesn't matter if they throw a tantrum. And B: Just because they see someone who looks like a video game character, doesn't mean that person really is that character, they're more likely just a cosplayer that likes the game and characters.

But despite your warnings, they'll still eat all the candy they can find, and they will still ask the Luigi cosplayer for some autograph.

🦊 Kitsune 🍬:

→Tatsumi:

Just a masquerade mask. Because firstly: He isn't planning on wearing any clothes the whole night, and secondly: Because he doesn't have the money to go all for it. If he could, he would probably dress as, I don't know, Tuxedo Mask? I mean, look at this man, he fits the role perfectly~

All jokes aside, Tatsumi feels a little too self-conscious to dress up as the things he wants to dress up as. Not because of his appearance, but more because of himself as a whole. He… Does have a little bit of self hatred hiding in there.

Even if he was invited time and time again to go to a party filled with monsters living a double life just like him, he would prefer to stay inside and watch some horror movies. If you don't mind, can you stay with him?

🩸Vampire 🍷:

→Abigail Barlow:

Halloween? Costumes? Do you think she is a clown? Just asking her out of curiosity would be enough to make her belittle you. Saying how such a thing was way beneath her, only commoners like you do such a childish thing. Unbelievable how little you think of her!

But, let's say, that for some coincidence the people of your village have decided to make a "ball" around the town's main fountain. Of course you would go, wouldn't you? A masked ball with only the common and humble folk of your village. Sounds really fun right?

But she can't have you finding some lowlife as a partner, that would be a disgrace to her and to you. Yet, she is pretty sure you wouldn't want to see her face around your folk, and you would probably question her hypocrisy.

Maybe you find a really interesting companion while you dance, maybe not...

🍰 CEO 📏:

→Ingrid Bright:

Even if people tell her to dress as Ariel or Merida (ha ha, redheads only dress as redheads), she would prefer something that could be practical, but she ended up choosing a demon anyway. I mean, she can totally rock any outfit, so why not?

Why not be a little devil? It should be fun. But it isn't really reassuring knowing how most of her co-workers see her as one already. Well, whatever, she'll wear whatever the hell she wants, and no one can stop her-

Oh look! What a coincidence, aren't you wearing a little angel costume? Oh, you two are opposites, how adorable.

What a strange coincidence, totally not the result of one month prior of planning and stressing over the possibility of her plan not working!

Really though, whatever her darling wears, she I'll wear the opposite of. It's supposed to be a cute coincidence but sometimes it can be so on the nose.

She hopes you don't mind her being near you all the time, flirting or towering over you. Come on darling, you can be the angel of this demon, can't you?

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

[writetorace]

The Truth Hurts - One Shot

Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: You knew Peter had a secret that no-one knew. Not even you, his best friend. What happens when you find out?

Warnings: hurt!Peter, injuries, fluff

You and Peter had been best friends for years. Something just clicked between the two of you when you first sat together at lunch when you were five. You had become a part of his family, spending most of your time in his apartment. May had come to think of you has her daughter, much like she saw Peter her son. When Peter got the flu you found yourself reheating chicken soup in his kitchen when May was at work. Sometimes she thought that there was something more going on between the two of you, there wasn’t, but she isn’t the only one who thinks so.

When Peter became Spider-man, he made a promise to himself, to never let you get hurt. Not that you knew this. After Tony Stark had found the ‘kid’ he took him under his wing. Peter spent three hours after school at Stark Towers training and making improvements on his suit. Tony had often told Peter to bring you the tower after hearing him talk about you every day. Once Tony found out that you were just Peters friend, he wanted to know why Peter hadn’t taken your relationship further.

Peter’s explanation to Tony was that he didn’t want to see you get caught up in the mess or worse get hurt. Tony understood this after seeing Pepper go through the exact thing he was describing. It pained Tony how similar Peter was to him, such an age difference and a completely different ego. He had to give it to Peter, the kid had heart.

Although Peter told you he had a Stark internship you didn’t quite believe him however you trusted him, he had never lied to you before. Even when you were 14 and your dog died, and your family told you that it went to live on a farm. He couldn’t lie to you despite your parents having your best interests at heart. The dog was your mini you, she followed you around wherever you went and just generally didn’t leave your side, not even when you got sick. Weeks, you spent weeks crying over her and how your parent’s deceit had done this. You made Peter promise to never to lie to you, knowing full well that he wouldn’t anyway. He had your full trust from the day he told you, followed with the days he stuck by your side whilst you grieved.

The chemistry homework you had been working on is discarded on your desk for you to complete, you are sat on your bed watching a movie. It was meant to be movie night with Peter, but yet again he had let you down again. This was becoming a more frequent thing in return promises of you choosing the movies the next time and him cooking grilled cheese (he made it better than anyone else).

The horror movie you had put on was full of jump scares so due to this you had climbed under your covers holding them up to your face. This did nothing to help with the scares, but it made you feel safer and more at ease. Regretfully you had chosen to put the film on when it was dark outside with practically no moonlight. Thinking about what to do when you had had enough of the jump scares, not being able to make it to the end of the movie you hopped off your bed to turn on the light.

That’s when you first see it, or rather see him. Peters’ bloody face. This more of a scare than those in the film. He is crouched on your window ledge, one arm holding the ledge clutching something, the other wrapped around his ribs. What shocks you the most is not the blood falling from the cuts on his face, but the Spider-man suit adorning his body. Shakily you step towards your window to let your best friend in not quite believing the sight in front of you. Once the window is open Peter falls into your arms, trying his best not to put his full weight on you. Helping him to the bed you look at him with teary eyes, disbelief coursing through your veins.

“I I I I can e e explain. It’s n n n not what it l l l looks like” he stutters, breathing shallow. His eyes fixed on your face.

“Is this some kind of joke Peter? You turn up at my window at god knows what time, dressed up in fancy dress coming back from some kind of fight. Was it Flash? Did he do this to you?” your mind was whirling at speeds you hadn’t noticed before. Jumping to conclusion after conclusion about how your daft best friend ended up in this situation. You had patched him up when you were younger after he had gotten into fights defending you, but never ones quite this bad.

“okay. M M Maybe it is what it looks like. This isn’t a a a costume. This is real.” His stutter was slowly disappearing as he was able to take deeper breaths having found comfort on your bed. “you think Flash could do this to me? God no. He could only dream. I guess what I’m trying to tell you is that I am Spider-man.” His cockiness soon turned to a high-pitched tone.

Shaking your head you took a step back from him. How could you be so blind to not notice your best friends’ convenient absences? It all started to add up, but the one question still remained how? You wanted to know more, you needed to know more. He was the most important person in your life, and he didn’t tell you about the most important part of his life. These thoughts were selfish, you knew that, but you didn’t care, you told each other everything, you kept no secrets.

Putting your hand up to him to stop whatever he was about to say you grabbed your first aid kit from your kitchen, your parents kept one as you were a clumsy cook. He explained everything you wanted to know whilst you patched him up, hating how he hissed when you put alcohol rub on his face. He eagerly told you he would take you to meet Tony Stark, gushing about how Tony had wanted to meet you for a long time. His face ended in a pout as you stepped away from him.

Kissing him was the only thing on your mind right now. Your best friend. The one person you were never meant to have those thoughts about. To hell with the fact he was your best friend, you went and kissed him. Reacting quickly he started to kiss you back, pulling on your waist for you to straddle him. Resting your hands on his face and your forehead against his you couldn’t believe it. A blush set on both your faces. Did he share the same thoughts as you?

“I’ve wanted to do that for a while.” You couldn’t believe what you just heard. He did share the same thoughts as you.

“Stay.” You whispered. He had stayed before but this time it felt different. Your best friend turned boyfriend staying in your bed with you. Pulling away from you, he headed to the draw where he kept a spare shirt and joggers for when he stayed over before. Deactivating the suit he climbed out of it and into the clothes that now lay on your bed.

He climbed into bed cuddling into your body afraid that if he let go you would disappear. “Promise me you will be safe and careful. Promise me you won’t leave me.” You whispered, knowing it would hurt you if this happened.

“I promise”

[therucrap]

RPDR 13 Episode 1 RuCrap

Hello dear internet! I just started a new page for my first ever RPDR RuCrap so please share and follow and I’ll continue if they catch on! Hope you enjoy!

The lucky 13th season of RuPaul’s Trauma Spectacular launches with the promise of “all new surprises” and a brand new twist that will leave you wondering how you ever sat through a boring old premiere with a coherent intro, climax, and conclusion when you could be enduring a dizzying hour and a half of WOW presents Happy Death Day 3: Covid Edition!

We open up on the trusty trauma center - I mean Werk Room - and the first to enter is NYC’s “Dominican Doll” and human drag lingo See ‘N Say Kandy Muse in an elaborate bejeweled patchwork jean mini dress and MATCHING DENIM BOOMBOX and she immediately informs us that we may know her from the now former Haus of Aja which was recently deconstructed like the pair of Wranglers that Kandy is wearing as fingerless gloves. Kandy is no longer alone in VIP because the befeathered Joey Jay arrives and half-heartedly delivers her intro line. “Filler queen!” We discover that Kandy is likely going to provide our Greek chorus confessional this season and all in a soft smoky eye when she informs us uncultured swine that Joey is wearing the cheapest variety of feather - chicken. Kandy didn’t construct an entire outfit from the remnants section of a Joanne Fabrics and not learn a thing or two about quality, sweetie! Joey is determined to beat viewers to the punchline and immediately clucks around branding herself as “basic” and “filler.” Joey is from the city of Phoenix (and possibly the online University as well) but she’s here to rise like a chicken!

Thunder mysteriously rumbles as RuPaul appears on the digitally enhanced Werk room TV but what could this be?! For all you newbies this is one of the several instances in every season where Ru mixes things up and gives us what we really want: a twist that is equal parts confusing, fucks up the natural order of the competition, and is ultimately unfulfilling! Come on season 13, let’s put a bunch of queer people through even more turmoil in a pandemic! Ru has a surprise but they’ll have to head to the mainstage to get the full story that they’ll be recounting to a mental health professional later!

We’re merely four minutes in and here comes Ru down the runway dressed like a glitterdot jellyfish! Our tour guide on Trauma Island introduces us to the main panel of judges for the season - Disco Morticia Addams and the two human Trapper Keepers who are now separated by glass because for the first time in Drag Race herstory we’re in the middle of a international health crisis, mawma!

Now let’s get down to trauma! Ru explains that the queens will be pairing off to lipsync unexpectedly as they enter! What could possibly go wrong? Well if you’re hoping that someone comes in wearing blades on their feet well just stick around because I have quite the treat for you! Our Dungaree Diva and the Chicken Feather Filler hit the Mainstage looking as confused as Shangela researching CDC protocol on her way to Puerto Vallarta last week. The judges interview our test subjects and immediately bring up the Haus of Aja and Kandy clarifies that she’s now an esteemed member of The Doll Haus along with last season’s ever-gorgeous Dahlia Sinn. I personally prefer not to say that Dahlia was eliminated first but instead that she was season 12’s brocco-leading lady! (Writer’s note: if you’re thinking “there’s a drag show called The Doll Haus in my hometown... is it THAT Doll Haus?!” No, there’s a drag show called The Doll Haus in almost every city in America but now, like with the former Sharon Needles, Kim Chis, and Penny Trations of the world, this one’s been on TV and alas, the others must now rename themselves)! Joey also charms the judges with her plucky demeanor and it’s already time to lipsync feather they like it or not!

Gay anthem Call Me Maybe by Canadian legend Carley Rae Jepson begins and Kandy immediately pushes a fake button on her DENIM BOOMBOX to start the party. Honestly... crown her right there on the spot. We will ALWAYS give points for prop work and the Carrot Top of the Bronx does not disappoint. Both are energetic but it’s The Dutchess of Denim who wins by infusing humor and our feathered friend is given “the Porkchop” but before we can even wrap our head around what this means for the state of the competition we snap back to the Werk Room to meet our next unsuspecting victims!

Now dear reader, this is the part where I’m just going to cut the shit. The set-up they’re selling us is that the losers of these premiere lipsyncs will be eliminated from the show but they are obviously not about to Porkchop half of the cast on day one so just stick with me while we suspend disbelief and go on RuPaul’s Totally Twisted Trauma Adventure as she convinces 6 gay people who just spent upwards of $10,000 on clothing, jewelry, and hair and then meticulously packed it into regulation suitcases to travel here during a pandemic after probably not making any money for the last four months (this was filmed in July) that they are going home on day one! This herstory-making twist, like so many before it, exemplifies the show’s worst qualities: a lack of empathy for its contestants, an underestimation of viewer intelligence and ability to decode heavy-handed editing witchery, and its love for completely dismantling its own format every year for the sake of drama. Whatever keeps the Emmy’s coming, baby! When you’re on the other side of one of these twists you usually feel like you just finished your morning coffee only to find out that the barista gave you decaf. Your mind will be blown when it’s happening but the payoff is usually at the expense of the show’s own legitimacy. With that said... this is the punishment we come to gleefully endure every year and we’re not here to complain, we’re here to watch gay people break down, dammit!

It’s deja Ru all over again as we snap back to the Werk Room where Chicago’s Denali walks in on ice skates and immediately ruins any chance of a deposit return for the bumpy, rented roll-out vinyl floors and declares “Let me break the ice!” She’s wearing the expensive feathers that Joey Jay didn’t spring for. Denali might not be the first ice skater on Drag Race but she’s the one I didn’t watch shit on a dick on Twitter last week so let’s give credit where it’s due. Ugh I wish Trinity the Tuck could block THAT from my memory! Next up is Atlanta’s Lala Ri whose white blazer, body suit, and unteased hair is immediately called basic by an icy Denali in confessional. Denali is confident but we know something that she doesn’t and Lala is wearing a sensible dancing ankle boot not two blades on her feet so let’s see how this turns out!

The lipsync song is “When I Grow Up” by Nicole Scherzinger and her assistants who were accidentally given microphones a few times! Denali struggles to conceal her wayward nipples during some ambitious dance moves and all while in skates but Lala gives us a good old fashioned drag performance and a big finale split unbothered by an elaborate costume and ultimately ices Denali who signs off with “Feeling icy, feeling spicy!” Asking these queens to lipsync upon entering is one thing but asking them to improvise their exit lines 10 minutes in is just cruel!

Denali heads backstage devastated where SURPRISE... Joey Jay is sitting alone in a sad room made of plywood walls featuring a bunch of pictures of first eliminated queens, an ominous “Porkchop Loading Dock” sign, and some cocktail tables with no cocktails (how dreadful).

Before we get the full picture and God for bid our bearings on Mr Charles’ Wild Ride let’s leave this plywood hellscape and jump back into the familiar comfort of the Werk Room’s pixelated neon pink faux brick walls where LA’s modelesque Symone stomps in wearing a dress made of tiny Polaroids of herself. She’s stylish, her energy is fresh, and she’s clearly one to watch. Then dear reader life as we know it changes. A breeze comes through the room and God herself blesses us when living legend and matriarch of the Iman dynasty Tamisha Iman from Atlanta arrives in a pointy-shouldered red power suit and proclaims to us simple townsfolk “Holler at me, I know you know me. Holler at me, I know you know me. Tamisha is here!” The sea parts, the crops are replenished, and all war stops on Earth. On stage Tamisha reveals that she’s been doing drag for 30 years (which seems like a long time to us mere mortals) and that she was originally cast last season but was diagnosed with colon cancer two days later and had to stay home for chemo. The lipsync gods wisely choose The Pleasure Principle by Janet Jackson and Tamisha gives us exact Janet arm choreo while Simone is sultry yet commanding as she shakes her Polaroids. The judges determine that Simone was picture perfect and American hero Tamisha Iman is sent to Porkchop’s Shipping Crate of Horrors to join the nest with the fancy feather option and the chicken feather option.

We begrudgingly crawl back onto RuPaul’s ever-circling carousel of doom and plop back into the workroom where accomplished LA celebrity makeup artist GottMik stomps in wearing a wacky toile dress and a full face of white makeup declaring that it’s “Time to crash the system!” GottMik is Drag Race’s first trans man contestant (and first knowingly cast trans contestant at all) for which we cheer excitedly and then immediately look at our watches because that took too long. Next up Minneapolis’s towering Utica wriggles in with a sneeze and declares “She’s sickening!” which is just the pandemic humor I came here for! Contaminate me, mom! This gay scarecrow is wearing a series of crazy patterns and a big strawberry on her head and the two of them appear to be from the same traveling circus. These two Big Comfy Couch characters slink over to the main stage where Utica explains that her cranial statement fruit symbolizes tackling obstacles because she used to be allergic to strawberries as a kid but she grew out of it. In RuPaul’s heavy universe of heart wrenching struggles that contain chronic illness and societal rejection, Utica’s animated world that suffers only of outgrown childhood strawberry problems is a welcome one. These two lanky rag dolls will be lipsyncing to Rumors by her majesty Lady Lohan of Mykonos and the vibe is instantly wacky. I wouldn’t say that either of them are the next Kennedy Davenport but they did complement each other well on the invisible obstacle course they were both miming through. Utica’s hair flops over her eye, there’s galloping and floor humping, GottMik does a split, there’s elbows and knees aplenty, and all that’s missing is dancing poodles. The judges are tickled by the kookiness of both of these human windsocks but Gotmikk snatches the win. Neither of these two are going to win So You Think You Can Dance but luckily this is RuPaul’s So You Think You Can Trauma so we’re in luck!

Our homosexual Groundhog Day continues back in the Werk Room where we meet NYC’s Rosé who gets the Brita treatment where she’s presented as a legendary New York queen and then the editors quickly get to work making her look delusional. She’s accomplished, confident, and Drag Race’s favorite personality type to dismantle and then trick into returning to All-Stars for a redemption only to dismantle again. Rosé’s fresh-faced foil Olivia Lux enters and lights up the place right away in a velvet pink and yellow gown. She’s a humble NYC newby who has competed in shows hosted by the established Rosé and we already know what’s about to happen here. The lipsync is Exes and Oh’s by Elle King which which was a choice. Olivia strips off her gown to reveal a bodysuit so she can really articulate and Rosé does the world’s least exciting split that looked like me trying unsuccessfully separate wooden chopsticks. Olivia triumphs and Rosé fizzles as she heads to the It Didn’t Werk Room aka Porkchop’s sparsely decorated storage closet to be with the other Have Nots.

We’re almost to the finish line and we limp, slightly disoriented, back to the Werk Room where we meet Tina Burner, another NYC theater kid with the confidence of a thousand Patti LuPones who is dressed like a Ronald McDonald firefighter. What she lacks in nuance she makes up for in nonstop fire puns. Next Chicago’s glamorous Kahmora Hall saunters in glowing and is clearly unimpressed with Tina’s constant Joan Rivers impression but maintains a full pageant smile. No choice but to stan. Our final queen is the refreshingly optimistic Elliott with 2 T’s who busts in wearing a bolero jacket, some red pants from the store, and a short pink wig that screams “Sorry I’m late! Here’s my flash drive! I can go on whenever!” Elliott dances in sing-talking her entrance line like the TGIFriday’s server she is: “I’m the queen you want to see. Elliot with two T’s. Okay! Uh uh uh uh uh uh uh uh! Okay!” Elliot is a dancer from Las Vegas and has the unhinged camp counselor energy of someone with snacks in her purse at all times.

On the Mainstage Tina cycles through the last of her introductory fire puns and tells the judges she was in a boy band which honestly tracks. Tina and Rosé share a similar NYC gotta-get-a-gimmick energy but for some reason production has decided to give Rosé the womp womp edit and Tina the superstar edit. The song is Lady Marmalade because we haven’t been though enough and Kahmora serves subdued sexy glamour, Elliott does the splits, and Tina bobs and weaves between the two with full play-to-the-back-row comedy queen energy. Tina extinguishes the dreams of the other two and RuPaul sends the final two losers to the chokey.

The worst is over (we think) and our frazzled cast of hopefuls finally gets to know eachother in their two very different groups. The winning queens in the Werk Room are celebrating and as blissfully unaware of the doom around them as Miss Vanjie and Silky Ganache at a Puerto Vallarta circuit party during a pandemic. Over in Porkchop’s Junk Drawer the camera looms unnecessarily close to the crestfallen losers’ now disheveled wigs and sweat drenched makeup. Ru’s voice bellows over the speaker to tell this motley crew to get out and then as the last bit of light leaves their weary eyes she checks back in to tell them that she wasn’t serious! Oh good! Finally a moment of mercy for these once hopeful queens on their first day of RuPaul’s Wipeout! She then reveals that the full twist is that she is only going to send one home but they have to vote amongst the group of losers to decide who it is! Yes, that’s correct! This group of broken queens who just met and mostly have never seen eachother perform will now be expected to turn on eachother and give up their last bit of dignity to either grovel or just straight up fight with eachother! This must be what the Donner Party’s last night looked like. The queens look around broken and wounded but still hungry, their eyes barely open, their lacefronts only partially attached to their heads, and start deciding which of their own is about to get consumed. Her highness Tamisha Iman reminds them "Well, I'm the only black girl so don't vote me off” and just like that we are TO BE CONTINUED!

Thus concludes our first headspinning episode that despite being reliably frustrating has once again sucked us in and against our better judgement entertained us to the fullest! As for our 13 queens- you can use code HERSTORY on Talkspace while relaying tonite’s events to a sickening liscensed therapist!

[just-come-baek]

at your scarvice

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader ft. Jimin x OC (Jiwoo) and other BTS members as cameos

Themes: smut | comedy | ghost!au | haunted house!au | amateur ghost hunters!au | friends to lovers!au

Word count: 12.2k

Summary: “I’ve done a research about a haunted house which is like only one village away from Jiwoo’s parents’ house, and it would be awesome if we went there for a quick ghost hunt before the party. You can even bring all your cameras and shoot a Halloween special for your YouTube channel or whatever. You’re subscribers will love it, and besides, what could possibly go wrong?”

Prompt: “If I die, I’m going to haunt your ass.”

Warnings: amateur ghost hunting | irresponsible usage of ghost hunting devices | mentions of brutal deaths | mentions of Jungkook being a YouTuber | plenty pop culture references | friendly bickering | main characters being idiots | occasional spooky stuff | penetrative sex | 

__________

Knock! Knock!

“What are you doing here?” Jungkook asked straightforwardly upon seeing me on the other side of the doors. As per usual, I smiled brightly, waiting for him to move aside, so I could feel myself home.

“I’m inviting myself in,” I answered, walking past him. “Tonight is a big day, and we gotta get ourselves ready,” I added and put two heavy shopping bags on the floor before plopping on the couch, catching my breath. “I planned the entire day, and we’re already far behind schedule. If it wasn’t for the traffic, I would be here about thirty minutes earlier.”

“It’s just a Halloween party,” Jungkook stated, and I rolled my eyes. “It’s no big deal; Jiwoo organizes one every year.”

“The party is just one of the things we’re gonna do,” I started, excited to tell him about everything I had meticulously planned. I was going to make sure he would never forget this night. “I’ve prepared a few surprises before the party.”

“Do I wanna know?” Jungkook asked, sitting in an armchair across from me.

“One thing at a time, okay?” I proposed, and Jungkook unwillingly complied; he had never been the one to fancy surprises, but he could make an exception for his best friend. “First thing on the list – re-watching the season 6 of Buzzfeed Unsolved: Supernatural while eating unhealthy snacks and having gin and tonic drinks,” I revealed, and Jungkook scrutinized me, making an ugly face.

“Are we talking postmortem, too?”

“I can’t believe you had to ask me that,” I answered, a little bit disappointed that he thought I’d skip this content. Never; it was too good to be ever skipped on.

“Sweet,” Jungkook exclaimed, jumping out of the armchair in excitement. “Why don’t you turn on the playlist, and I’ll go get us glasses and a bowl for the chips?”

Hurriedly, I logged into Jungkook’s computer and turned on YouTube.

“Which episode was your favorite?” Jungkook asked me as he sat on the couch beside me, setting the tableware on the coffee table next to the laptop.

“All of them were good. They’ve gathered a lot of evidence this season, but for me, the house call one was the best."

“It was dope, but my favorite is definitely the season finale,” Jungkook stated, and I couldn't disagree. All of the episodes were great, and it was impossible to choose the best one – objectively, at least. All of them were hilarious and spooky in their own way, and it was a delight to re-watch them again. “The marathon shall begin,” he added, pressing the play button.

“Finally.”

It was a very peaceful afternoon, and frankly, it was exactly what I needed after a couple of hectic days at the university. The professors were more demanding than usual, and a relaxing hangout was the perfect remedy to all the stress I had been put under.

Per each episode, Jungkook and I would have a drink and empty a bag of potato chips, occasionally bickering about how we would act in these haunted places. While we both considered ourselves shainiacs, it was quite obvious we would chicken out in the moment of strange, not necessarily supernatural, occurrence.

For the outsiders, Jungkook might have seemed to be a tough cookie, but in reality, he was just a big softie. I, on the other side, enjoyed horrors a bit too much; therefore, in the face of danger, I would laugh.

Probably.

One cannot be sure without actually witnessing a supernatural occurrence. Best case scenario – a full- body apparition. 

“You would totally run outside screaming,” Jungkook snickered when the ghoul boys’ spirit box picked up a bizarre voice. “You would lose your fucking mind.”

“I would let out a confused chuckle at best,” I fought back, but Jungkook wasn’t having any of this, throwing a potato chip at me, blowing a raspberry. “See, this is why Jiwoo doesn’t like you. You’re too childish.”

“What are you talking about? Jiwoo adores me,” Jungkook protested, and I couldn’t help myself but burst his little bubble of confidence and self-assurance. “I'm like... her best friend.”

“She only tolerates you because she has the biggest crush on Jimin,” I explained, and Jungkook gasped in disbelief. “What? You didn’t know?” I asked, confused because it was too obvious not to notice her infatuation. Only Jimin was too blind to see it, despite Jiwoo’s blatant flirting.

“Of course, I know. I’m not that stupid,” Jungkook answered, but I still thought he and Jimin shared one brain cell. “Too bad for her; Jimin's dumb.”

“I'm betting she's gonna make a move tonight,” I started, knowing the juicy gossip which would pique Jungkook's interest. “Jimin told me he's cosplaying as Fred from Scooby-Doo, and she's coincidentally dressing as Daphne. She's gonna be as subtle as a dump truck driving through a nitroglycerin plant.”

“Weird way to put it, but I agree,” Jungkook answered, giggling adorably under his breath. “And where's your costume?” Jungkook asked, confused, as he finally noticed the lack of my spooky outfit. Our whole crew enjoyed Halloween too much to attend a party in basic all black clothes. “Jiwoo's not gonna let you in without one. You know it.”

“Relax; I'm going as the Nun from the Conjuring Universe. My costume's at Jiwoo's. I'm not parading in that hellish make-up, giving people heart attacks,” I elaborated, and Jungkook nodded, understanding my choice. Last year, I had been dressed as a very vivid horror character, and a few elders had got pretty spooked. I'm not going down that road again. “I've only got white face powder, three black eyeliners, and a set of black contact lenses on me. And check this out; all of it fitted into my new fanny pack. It's awesome, isn't it?” I showed it to Jungkook, and he grabbed it to investigate my new purchase.

“I've been trying to convince you to buy one for almost a year; what've changed your mind?” Jungkook asked suspiciously, remembering numerous rejections of his (in his opinion) well-argued propositions. In all honesty, I considered fanny packs a terrible accessory, but tonight it suited the occasion. It was more comfortable than a purse or a backpack, and surprisingly, it could fit more items than I had previously assumed. “You've also got a new phone case? It's awesome! Why didn't you get one for me, too?” He added in a whiny tone after inspecting my latest let's summon demons phone case.

“I'd say my fanny pack is going to be a Mystery Mousketool, but then I realized you know what the item is, and you don't know what it's going to be used for,” I started rumbling, and Jungkook looked at me in visible confusion. Perhaps, he had one drink too many to comprehend my twisted presentation. “All I'm saying now, it may come in handy if the second phase of my amazing plan goes a little bit off track,” I continued vaguely. Best friends or not, I couldn't straightforwardly confess that it would be easier for me to run for my life if the police would start chasing us for trespassing a haunted property.

“Whatever's going on your mind, I don't like it,” Jungkook muttered as my previous account must've triggered his spider-sense. “What are you plotting?”

“It's nothing, really,” I tried to dismiss the topic, but Jungkook wasn't having any of that; he wanted to know everything about my secret plan, and he wouldn't stop glaring at me until I'd tell him all the details. With this man, keeping a secret wasn't a possibility.

“Tell me, or else I'm not going anywhere,” Jungkook threatened, and Halloween or not, I knew he wasn't joking. For him, gaming all night was just as entertaining as attending a party; therefore, he didn't have any trouble choosing either one of them. At this point, the only thing I could do was to advertise my plan, making it irresistible. “I was planning on streaming this one game this week, and I might as well start doing it today,” Jungkook carried on with his nerdy shenanigans, letting me know it was my cue to change the subject, snowing him under a handful of promises of an adventurous unforgettable night.

“I've done a research about a haunted house which is like one village away from Jiwoo's parents' house, and it would be awesome if we went there for a quick ghost hunt before the party. You can even bring all your cameras and shoot a Halloween special for your YouTube channel or whatever. Your subscribers would love it, and besides, what could possibly go wrong?” I blurted out on one breath, hoping my sincerity was enough to convince him. “Pretty please?”

***

The bus to the village was about to leave at 17:06, and we had only ten minutes left to double-check our inventory: two go pro cameras, two old-fashioned flashlights, a legitimate spirit box (which Jungkook had been gifted two months ago on his birthday), an ouija board (which he gave me for my early birthday), and a spare bottle of booze if we sobered up before arriving at the location.

Due to traffic, our bus arrived a few minutes late, but we were in a great mood, so we didn’t mind it that much. If anything, we were even more excited, because it would be already getting dark upon our arrival.

“So tell me something about your research,” Jungkook started, as we found a couple of empty seats in the back row of the bus – finally we were the cool kids.

“OK, so check this out,” I started, sitting comfortably in my window seat, rubbing my hands together in ardor. “No one really knows how many ghosts haunt this place, yet according to previous owners’ accounts there are at least three ghosts roaming all around the house, and I have my theory about their identities,” I said with a mischievous smirk upon my face, waiting for Jungkook to compliment my well-done research.

“What’s your theory?” He inquired, already intrigued by the house’s story.

Even it was only my thesis.

“Finally, let’s go over some theories,” I said, quoting my favorite YouTube channel.

Whispering, I told him everything I had managed to dig out, successfully keeping Jungkook on the edge of his seat for the entire ride.

It was a mystery how many ghosts actually haunt this location, but according to the witnesses’ testimonies, old newspaper articles, and land registers, I was sure about three names. All of the three men were once residents, and all of them died tragically within the sinister four walls.

The unholy trinity of Kims – that’s the name of my theory.

The house was built in 1913 on an old rye field. It was a very amicable side of the village, and no one had expected the house could bring so much evil.

The first tenants moved in 1915, and though neither of them died, they reported they had witnessed strange happenings within the premises, beginning with the dog barking in the middle of the night at the darkness, ending with them hearing screeching sounds from under the walls.

One night, they stirred awake with their skin covered in scratches, and their dog breathing heavily, slowly bleeding to death. Needless to say, they moved out before the dawn, leaving all of their belongings behind.

While the majority of the locals believed it was witches’ revenge since the coven had been denied the premises, some of whom thought the family was mentally-ill and violent.

The house remained empty way until 1973 when Kim Seokjin moved in. Back in the time, he was a singer, slowly gaining popularity. Having signed the contract with an entertainment label, he bought a house as his own getaway when he needed a break from his demanding fans.

He would reside in the house a few times a year, only when he was desperate for a few moments of solitude. In late October 1974, he went for a short hiatus. Late evening, when he was relaxing with a glass of scotch, someone knocked on his doors, asking for someone – almost like in The Strangers.

Seokjin suspected the stranger was just a very sneaky fan and locked the person outside. The sole purpose of buying the property so far away from the city was precisely omitting situations like this.

Unfortunately for him, it was not a fan.

Later that night, a dozen of Satanists broke into Seokjin’s house, tied him up, and carried him straight to the basement where they performed a grim ritual. According to the police report released to the press, he was discovered lying on his back in the middle of a bloody pentagram, his intestines gutted out, his tongue cut out found in a golden goblet, and two paper knives sticking out of his eyeballs.

It is told that his ghost roams around the basement, leaving a bloody trace after him. Moreover, a young journalist, back in 1981, while doing research about satanic rituals, claims she had seen his ghost, resting in a rocking chair down in the basement, sipping a glass of alcohol. She even swore she could smell a mixture of whisky and blood in the air.

Unfortunately, she didn’t gather any evidence, later being called a lunatic by the disbelieving society.

The house waited for its new residents for twenty years – in August 1994, a newly wedded couple moved in right after their honeymoon. Kim Namjoon was a poet, teaching European literature on the university, while his wife, Kim Joori, was a sweet librarian.

At first, they didn’t notice anything strange. No weird noises, no unexpected guests, no cold spots, no nothing. Everything was peaceful until they decided to conduct a major renovation – it was then when the hell unleashed.

In 1996 they decided to start trying for a baby, and though they both fancied the old décor of the house, it was evident it wasn’t a safe space for a child. While they were thrilled to upgrade the property, providing their newborn with safety, the entities which lived inside were not.

Joori was the one who started experiencing supernatural happenings; she only worked three times a week, and the majority of her time, she spent alone at home. During these late hours, she thought her mind was playing tricks on her. At first, she justified it with stress and a shitload of work regarding the renovation, but then, the occurrences she had witnessed couldn’t be explained with logic.

Joori wanted to sell the property and move out, yet Namjoon would always dismiss her pleas. It wasn’t until November 1996 when Joori, who was already three months pregnant, and Namjoon had a big fight. She gave him an ultimatum, and when Namjoon chose the house over her, she moved out.

A few collective nights after Joori’s departure, Namjoon would sit by the newly rebuilt fireplace and drink into oblivion. It was the first time he noticed peculiar activity in the house, yet he blamed the alcohol for it.

Slowly, day after day, Namjoon would lose his mind. It started off with strange whispers. The voice in his head, or so he thought, begged him to call Joori and bring her back, yet his pride would always stop after pressing the 6th digit of her parents’ landline.

Then it was tugs; from time to time, Namjoon would feel his shirt being tugged. It was challenging to explain with logic, but he opted for blaming the trauma for making him delusional. Namjoon would rather believe his brain was slowly frying itself than accept the supernatural entities.

At some point, he also started hearing distant giggles within the house and seeing shadows passing between walls, but the last straw that broke the camel’s neck was definitely his book of poems flying across the room, landing in the middle of the carpet, and then shredding into pieces right in front of his eyes. While a lot of events could be blamed on the strong drafts of wind or poor timely construction of the house, some things he witnessed were unexplainable.

Shortly after the incident, the entity residing in the house became violent – it wanted Namjoon away, and since he wasn’t going to leave like his wife, there was another way of getting rid of him.

Namjoon wanted to leave the house, reach out to Joori and start anew with her and their baby.

However, he never did.

On a Christmas morning, Joori paid him a visit and the things she witnessed traumatized her for life.

Namjoon’s suitcase was neatly packed, waiting by the doors to be picked up. The house was spotless, except for Namjoon’s study.

Walls were painted red with blood, Namjoon’s body dismembered – pieces of his body parts scattered all over the floor. Only his head was in scarless, resting on top of his desk, right next to his ripped poetry book.

No signs of forced entry, no motive, no evidence.

The police obviously closed the case, but Joori never felt at peace, still believing it was the entity that killed her husband.

And now, finally, the third Kim.

Kim Taehyung.

Not that long time ago, in 2007, the land was purchased by happy-go-lucky Kim Taehyung. At that time, Taehyung was only 19. He bought the house with his inheritance. Ever since little, he was very family-orientated, and when he had a chance to purchase a property, he didn’t hesitate.

Just like former residents, Taehyung didn’t sense anything odd; the omnipresent feeling of darkness came with time. However, even then, Taehyung would dismiss all the strange occurrences happening inside the house.

He had never been one to get scared easily, so a round of floor creaking or cold spots didn’t really impress him.

On the 17th of April, his girlfriend, Chanmi, slept over for the first time, and it was chilling.

According to her testimony, after their steamy sex session, she felt as if being watched. Later on that night, when they were sleeping, cuddling under the sheets, she heard distinctive steps downstairs.

Frightened, suspecting it was a burglar, she shook Taehyung awake, yet the moment he opened his eyes, the noise stopped. Complete undisturbed silence. To Taehyung, Chanmi seemed paranoid (and not accustomed to new surroundings), but he loved her dearly and checked the house, calming her.

Although Taehyung didn’t find anything, Chanmi already knew she didn’t feel welcomed – ever since that night, she made sure they would hang out at her place. Whatever it was that she sensed – it was pure evil.

On the 23rd of June, they had a big fight, and when Chanmi came over the next day to makeup, Taehyung was already gone.

His body was discovered in the bathroom on the second floor – he was lying in the bathtub, sharp pieces of mirror protruding from his wounded body.

Chanmi screamed and fell onto her knees.

But it wasn’t the worst thing about that day – the moment she started sobbing, Taehyung’s head tilted to the side, looked at her with his dead eyes, and in a throaty voice, he growled her name.

In a matter of seconds, Chanmi got back on her feet and bolted out of the house, swearing to herself that she’d never ever return there.

Though the police suspected a murder, deep down, Chanmi knew it was the evil’s doing. She never bothered mentioning that in her official statement, knowing the cops wouldn’t believe her.

Ever since Taehyung’s tragic death, the residence belongs to the city. Despite multiple proposals, it has never been sold.

And now, it’s our cue to investigate these haunted premises.

“You’re shitting me right now, aren’t you?” Jungkook asked me, probably both crept out and impressed. My research was thorough and off-putting at once, and I was sure it partially discouraged him from participating in the exploration.

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve read that shit about the house, and you still wanna go there? What’s wrong with you? Only a psychopath can enjoy doing shit like that,” Jungkook argued, and I couldn’t find an answer right away.

I loved horror films and scary stories, mostly because I loved discrediting them and finding flaws in the storylines, and right now, I was about to do the same, but my subject was a real thing.

I didn’t have huge expectations – it was more than probable that we wouldn’t find anything, yet at the same time, it would be pretty dope to witness something strange. Jungkook shouldn’t be that worried – in the worst (best) scenario, we would get spooked by another team of amateur ghost hunters.

“Come on, Kook, grow a pair,” I started, trying to take our conversation on a less pressing level. It was just a silly ghost hunting gig, yet Jungkook sounded serious, almost as if we were going through the pros and cons of keeping a baby. “Ghost ain’t real; the scariest thing inside that house it probably bats,” I reasoned, and Jungkook agreed with a sigh.

“I guess you’re right,” Jungkook said, finally manning up for the mission. “Let’s get this shit over with,” he added when the vehicle stopped at our bus stop.

***

“So… what do you think?” I inquired when the murder house was within our eyesight; the building was spacious, and it really stood out amongst the other residences – no one could miss it. From quite a distance, you could see there was something evil about it, even the fence around the property was installed upside down, supposedly to lock the supernatural entities inside.

“It doesn’t look very welcoming if you ask me,” Jungkook started, scratching the back of his head, probably trying to come up with a good excuse to call it a day and just head over to Jiwoo’s party. “Just by the look of it, I can tell there’s something wrong about it,” he added, and I hummed in agreement.

“Are your spider-senses tingling again?” I asked, and Jungkook elbowed me lightly, not enjoying my teasing. “But for real now. Should we take a few selfies before going in?” I proposed, and Jungkook eagerly agreed, as if prolonging the inevitable reconnaissance.

Carefully, Jungkook wrapped his arm around my frame and snapped a few pictures with his phone, making sure the haunted house was standing proudly in the background. Then, he took another series of photos with my camera.

“If we’re seriously going in there, I think I need an intro for my Halloween special video, don’t you think?” Jungkook announced, pulling out his go-pro camera. After giving me a quick instruction, we started rolling.

At first, he reported what we were doing, but then, he started talking about the new segment of his channel, and my brain just froze. Although I respected his passion for gaming, I completely lost focus whenever he started blabbering about it. But honestly, I thought it was healthy for our friendship. We had a lot of things in common, yet it was a blessing to be different at some point. Whenever one of us felt a bit overwhelmed, we could engage in independent activities. For Jungkook, it was gaming – I’d never try crashing his nerdy party.

“I think we got it,” I announced when Jungkook’s mouth stopped barfing gaming jargon. “Let’s go inside.”

“Fine, but keep it in mind that if I die, I’m going to haunt your ass,” Jungkook stated, and I laughed. Right… as if this cinnamon roll could ever haunt anything.

“Puh-lease,” I retorted, trying to refrain myself from giggling. “If anything bad happened to you, you would be Kookie – the friendly ghost,” I finished, and Jungkook whined quietly, not fancying my opinion.

“Shut up,” Jungkook barked, pulling out the second fancy camera. If he were to step into that hellhole, he would gear himself up from head to toe, getting ready to catch the ghost on tape. “Let’s go in before I change my mind,” he added, as he effortlessly jumped over the fence.

“Will you help me? Not everyone has legs for days,” I mumbled as I extended my arms, so Jungkook could support me when I made my way through the first obstacle. “Thanks,” I quickly said when Jungkook grabbed me, and carefully put me on the ground.

“If it makes you feel any better, I think you’ve got a sexy pair of legs,” Jungkook complimented me, and though in other circumstances I’d blush, this time I ignored it, focusing on the vibration I felt in the butt pocket of my jeans.

The second I put my foot on the unholy soil, weird shit started happening.

Interesting.

My first thought was that I got a text message on my phone, but then it struck me that I always had my phone on silent mode. Quickly, I checked my cell phone, and it turned out that Siri turned itself on.

“What can I help you with?”

The device turned itself on again, but this time in my hand, when I didn’t push any buttons.

“It’s not a good sign,” Jungkook commented, and I started to second guess the brilliance behind my ingenious plan. “It’s not too late to turn around and leave. I won’t be disappointed if you chicken out,” he carried on, but I just grinned at him. There was no way I’d wimp out.

“Nice try; we’re going in,” I prompted, confidently walking toward the main entrance, Jungkook following behind me, probably shooting the surroundings.

As soon as we stepped onto the porch, the wood would start to creak underneath the pressure. Just like everything about the house, it gave off that creepy vibe.

“Showtime,” I whispered under my breath as I extended my hand and grabbed the knob. Just as expected, it was locked.

“Well… it looks like another sign to me. Let’s go back,” Jungkook spoke, trying once again to convince me to back out.

“Get a grip; we’re going in,” I ordered, and Jungkook sighed, regretting that he couldn’t say no to me. “I’m picking the lock; Betty in Riverdale does it all the time, it can’t be that difficult,” I muttered, reaching into my new fanny pack for a bobby pin.

“Are you for real? Since when anything they do in Riverdale makes any sense to you?” Jungkook wondered, but I just rolled my eyes, ignoring his mean comments. “You’re not opening that lock,” he added, making my blood boil. In times of crisis, Jungkook wasn’t very supportive.

“Just shut up, I almost got it,” I barked, sticking my tongue out, adjusting myself to my ultimate focus form, ignoring Jungkook and his shenanigans. Not only he showed me no support, but also he pulled out the small bottle of booze and took a gulp, without proposing me some.

“Just deal with it. We won’t get inside,” Jungkook teased again, pissing me off, and then leaning in, literally breathing on my neck.

“I really hate you right now,” I yelled at him as I straightened up, dropping my bobby pin in the process. “It was my only one,” I whined, kicking in doors in frustration, and to my surprise, it swung wide open.

“Ladies first?” Jungkook murmured, smiling sheepishly, moving aside.

“How gentlemanly of you,” I tsked, turning on the flashlight before entering the building. “I’m pretty sure you’re going to edit your video, deceiving people into thinking you’re a real macho man,” I complained, inspecting the foyer.

Nothing out of the ordinary. For now.

“I’ve got chills,” I stated matter-of-factly when the silence inside the house started to bother me. Though I didn’t believe in ghosts, for some stupid reasons, my heart rate quickened. I felt uneasy, and when I heard my voice echo across the room, I felt less crept out. “Which room should we check out first?”

“When I listened to you on the bus, all of them sounded awful,” Jungkook honestly answered while shedding some light around the living room. “If got rid of all the dust, it’d look pretty comfy,” he added, and I snorted, not expecting him to give me such a nonchalant comment.

Unfortunately, it seemed I was the jittery one.

Well… fuck.

“How about we check out Ouija board in Namjoon’s study,” I proposed, and Jungkook hummed in agreement.

“Maybe there’s still some blood left. You said it was pretty messy,” Jungkook added in excitement, making me wonder how the hell he did a 180 so fast. Not even two minutes ago, he acted like an adorable sacredly cat, but right now, he seemed confident enough to roundhouse kick all the demons back to hell.

“I doubt so, but it’s worth checking,” I answered, and we both headed to the east wing of the house, navigating toward Namjoon’s office. “It may sound ridiculous, but I’m getting horny,” I confessed, and Jungkook stopped in his tracks, gawking at me, not expecting such revelation.

“I knew you wouldn’t resist my manly charms,” Jungkook murmured cockily, wiggling his eyebrow suggestively. “I knew you would fall for me eventually.”

“Right… I’d rather believe a sex demon just possessed me,” I retorted, and for some reason, Jungkook didn’t find it funny. Come on, it was hilarious! “OK, I guess you’re kinda hot right now,” I gave in, unwillingly stroking his ego.

Not my fault, he was just irresistible.

“I knew it,” Jungkook cheered right before when we finally found the right room. This was it – the first space to be “properly” investigated.

Putting the flashlights on the desk, we set the Ouija board on the floor, sitting across from each other.

“Do you know how to use it?” Jungkook inquired, and I smiled sheepishly, telling him I knew bits and pieces, though I had absolutely no idea if my knowledge was legit since it all was based on multiple horror films I had seen. “I’ll check it online,” he proposed and pulled out his phone, quickly typing his inquiry into Google’s search tab. “Whoa, the signal here is no joke; I have a better connection than I have at my apartment. How expensive is this house again?”

“You’re really dumb, you know…”

“You love me regardless, so I don’t really care,” Jungkook absentmindedly replied while browsing through the answers. “OK, it’s easy.”

Briefly, Jungkook explained the ceremony. Apparently, the horror movies didn’t get everything wrong.

Unfortunately, the spirits inside Namjoon’s study weren’t chatty – during our session, they only edged the planchette toward the numbers 9 and 4 (the date of Namjoon’s settlement), yet I didn’t put much thought to it. Jungkook was probably moving it to scare me, and I wasn’t going to give him that satisfaction.

“You know what? It’s not as exciting as I thought it would,” I started when we were collecting our stuff, getting ready to explore another room. For the majority of the time, nothing was happening. We were sitting just sitting in darkness, waiting for something to give us a real spook.

Later, we headed towards the second floor. The stairs were creaking as we made our way up, but we didn’t pay much attention to it, being too focused on locating the bathroom to actually think about basic safety.

The bathroom looked terrifying; the tiles inside were dirty, the original color already fading. The facilities were covered in rust and probably making a lot of unnecessary noises.

“Give me your flashlight,” Jungkook ordered as he put both torches on the edge of the bathtub, one of which switched on. “If there’s something that wants to communicate with us, turn the right one on, and turn off the left one,” Jungkook spoke loudly, waiting for the lights to change, and after some time one did.

“It was definitely a ghost,” I exclaimed in fake dread, bursting out laughing a second later. “It’s solid evidence; it’s confirmed – ghosts are real,” I added, and Jungkook joined me, chuckling adorably. “You can’t change my mind.”

“If it’s you, Taehyung, tell us what happened to you,” Jungkook carried on, and I grew silent, waiting for the ghost to reach out to us. “We don’t want to hurt you; we just want to know the truth. Who killed you?”

Silence.

“Come on, Taehyung. We don’t have all night; we’ve got places to be,” I urged the ghost in a taunting manner, hoping for something to finally happen. With each passing second, our expedition seemed more and more disappointing, and though I didn’t believe in ghosts, I’d really liked to be proven wrong.

“You’re weak sauce, Taehyung!” Jungkook mocked, reaching for the flashlights, wanting to explore another active part of the house – the basement. “You had your chance, Taehyung, and you blew it.”

We quickly left the bathroom and headed to the basement, yet just before we entered the room, I hesitated.

“Maybe we should investigate the basement individually,” I proposed, and Jungkook bit the inner side of his cheek, pondering over my suggestion.

“Fine, let’s do this,” Jungkook agreed with a sigh. “Do you want me to go first?”

“Whatever.” I shrugged, and Jungkook pulled out the spirit box, a little bit excited to use it for the first time. “Go get ’em, tiger.” I patted Jungkook on the back, and closed the doors behind him. “You’ve got ten minutes.”

The stairs creaked when Jungkook was walking down. For a while, it was oddly silent, but then I heard the loud white noise, and I knew Jungkook finally turned the device on.

While he was down there, I roamed around the ground floor, taking a few extra selfies. Unfortunately, regardless of the flashlight, it was still dark as fuck, and I was sure none of the taken photos were Instagram-worthy.

Ten minutes passed, yet Jungkook still didn’t get out.

“You can come out now,” I shouted, but I got no reply from Jungkook.

This fucker was messing with me. I knew him too well not to understand what he was trying to do. However, I wouldn’t give him that satisfaction. He wanted to scare me shitless, but he would never succeed.

Confidently, I swung the doors open and made my way downstairs.

“Have you found anything?” I asked when I noticed Jungkook standing in the corner of the room, facing the walls.

“Nope, it was boring as fuck.”

“OK, it’s my turn. Give me the spirit box,” I spoke eagerly, waiting for Jungkook to give me the gear. He survived the individual session with ghosts, so there was nothing to be afraid of. If ghouls didn’t eat Jungkook’s cute butt, I doubted they would be after mine.

“Good luck,” Jungkook murmured and leaned in, pressing a delicate kiss against my forehead before running upstairs.

OK. What the fuck?

With a slam, I was left alone in the basement, and frankly, right now, I didn’t give two shits about ghosts. What the fuck was that? Jungkook and I never showed any affection for one another. The most intimate interaction we had ever had was elbowing each other.

We didn’t kiss.

Never.

Not even an indirect kiss.

All the wires in my brain were frying. A whole army of ghosts might’ve jumped out of nowhere, and I wouldn’t give two shits about them. What the hell was Jungkook’s deal? Why did he do that?

Regardless of how much I desired to find evidence on ghosts, right now, my mind wasn’t in the right place. Thoughts of Jungkook, of how much I tried to not act on my attraction toward him, how I wanted him to make a move – they completely took over my sanity.

A full-body apparition might’ve as well started reciting Great Gatsby, and I wouldn’t notice it probably.

Trying to leave that horrifying train of thoughts, I shook my head. I needed to get a grip. Tonight was about ghosts, not about Jungkook.

Promptly, I turned on the spirit box, starling at how loud it roared to life.

Except for one beam of light coming out of my flashlight, it was entirely dark, and the white noise emitted by the device made the scene even more terrifying. I would undoubtedly faint if I didn’t like this dreadful atmosphere.

“Is anyone here?” I asked and looked around – everything seemed ordinary. Well… as ordinary as an abandoned house’s basement could be.

[UNINTELLIGIBLE]

“What the fuck was that?” I jerked my head to the side, staring at the device in my hand. It sounded like a male voice, yet I couldn’t quite comprehend the words. “Can you repeat that? You have to speak more clearly,” I spoke, refraining from face-palming myself.

What the hell was I thinking, talking to ghosts?

I must’ve really lost my mind.

“Behind.”

Once again, I jerked my head, furrowing my eyebrows. It really sounded like the word behind, so obviously, I turned around, checking if there’s something, in fact, behind me.

There wasn’t.

“I have to hear more than just one word,” I declared, focusing on the noise, ready to pick up another message. For a long while, the white noise was ringing in my ears, but then I heard something which sounded like my name.

[UNINTELLIGIBLE]

Jungkook’s gonna love my footage, I wondered upon hearing these strange noises. Maybe it is not groundbreaking evidence, but it surely will be thrilling to watch. Jungkook’s followers will love the new content.

“You find me.”

“Oh my God, this is awesome,” I cheered enthusiastically, and though I was having the time of my life, it was time to take the fun to the next level. “Who am I talking to? What’s your name?”

“Kim.”

“That was an instant answer,” I commented, feeling goosebumps on my skin.

Much to my dismay, it was the last coherent response I got; I sat there alone in the darkness and received only a few unintelligible reads. So much for ghost hunting… I thought, ready to leave the basement.

Checking the time on my phone, I realized I had two more minutes, and though it was pointless to reach out to ghosts at this point, I decided to record my useless commentary. Maybe Jungkook would use my witty monologue as a part of his YouTube clip, or if not, he’d have a good laugh when analyzing all the footage from this night.

“So… I’ve been sitting in the darkness for a while, and no ghost dared to give me a spook. It’s such a disappointment, really. These ghosts here are real wimps; I lured Jungkook inside this basement, and this may come as a big shocker to everyone, but nothing really happened to him –“

[BANG!]

Quickly, I turned my head around, trying to locate the source of the strange noise; it sounded as if it was coming from under the stairs, yet I quickly dismissed the disturbance – it must’ve been a rat or something.

Clearly, it wasn’t a ghost.

“As I was saying… this house is a complete bummer. When we first arrived, the house looked really nerve-racking, but when we actually started exploring it, it let us down. Honestly, the scariest part of this expedition probably was when Jungkook failed to prank me.”

“Your time is up,” having opened the doors, Jungkook hollered. “I’m going down there,” he added, and I turned around, giving Jungkook a chance to record my grand exit on tape.

“I’m getting outta here, ghosts. You are a bunch of wimps!”

“Did you just seriously mock the ghosts?” Jungkook asked, giggling adorably.

“Why not? It’s not like they’re going to kill me for calling them out.”

“Should we leave now? I’d stay for a little longer and recorded some weird random shit. What do you think?”

“It’s definitely gonna piss these ghosts, so I am in.”

At first, Jungkook insisted I record him dance a few Fortnite choreographies, and though I had no clue what he was doing, I kept the camera rolling. Then, I turned music on my phone, and we jammed to old K-POP hits like Super Junior’s Bonamana, SHINEE’s Lucifer, f(x)’s Electric Shock, and many others.

Then Jungkook made me record his beatbox performance, and it was torture. However, there was a silver lining – it helped me determine whether ghosts were real or not. The answer was no – no one would endure it.

And if it wasn’t for my crush on him, I’d definitely not endure it either.

Later that evening, Jungkook gave a short instruction video on how to defend oneself with basic taekwondo moves, and then we thumb-wrestled.

“You know what would really piss the ghosts off?” Jungkook inquired, and I wondered what else his one brain cell came up with since I highly doubted if it could get any dumber than it already had.

“I don’t know… what else would really piss the ghosts off?” I answered, having no idea what we could do to outdo ourselves. Everything that we had done for the past hour was already offensive as fuck.

“Isn’t it absolutely the worst when you’re in a public place, minding your business when you walk past a couple making out right in front of you?”

“It is absolutely the worst, but how is it any relevant?” I asked, cocking my eyebrow in confusion. Jungkook was right, making out openly in public was rude, and obnoxious, and one of my biggest pet peeves, yet I highly doubted the ghosts had the same hierarchy of irritating situations. They’re dead, and they can haunt people without any consequences – that’s pretty dope itself, and I just couldn’t understand why it would be their top bête noire.

“Well… it’s not completely irrelevant, and besides, ever since you’ve mentioned you’re horny, I really wanted to kiss you,” Jungkook confessed, and my jaw dropped at the revelation. Jungkook wanted to do what!?

“Well… you just played yourself,” I stated, and Jungkook creased his forehead in confusion. “Is that a confession you’ve just recorded? I bet you want to record our kiss, too. That’s kinky, and weirdly enough, it turns me on a little bit,” I finished my thought, and then Jungkook smiled widely at me, figuratively lighting up the rundown basement which we were still in.

“Well… now you just really have to kiss me,” Jungkook retorted, and I smiled mischievously, curious of how he’s going to play his cards now, “unless you want me to show your parents a video of you confessing to your kinks.”

“Well… you should’ve waited a little bit longer, maybe I would’ve named all the other kinks I’m into,” I challenged, biting my bottom lip seductively. “If you really want our first kiss to be in this shabby, totally not haunted basement, then go for it,” I consented, waiting for him to approach me and knock the air out of my lungs with a world-shattering kiss.

“It’s not perfect, it’s not exactly what you deserve, but it will be a hell of a story to tell our grandchildren one day. Don’t you think?”

“I think you’re getting a little bit ahead of yourself,” I retorted, chuckling. Jungkook was acting ridiculous, and it was adorable. With his cute smile and firm butt, he could get away with anything. “Just kiss me, you idiot.”

At first, I expected him to say something cringe-worthy like m’lady or alrighty, but thankfully, I was wrong. With one long stride, Jungkook approached me, resting his large hand on my hips before leaning in to kiss me.

The kiss was sensual and soft, and the way I had always imagined. Gently, Jungkook pressed his plump lips against mine, and we just moved, basking in pleasure. His hand was roaming over my back and butt, whereas mine was going through his silky hair, tousling it.

Gradually, it grew in passion. Jungkook pulled me closer against him, and I opened my mouth, inviting his tongue. Though it was only one kiss, it was quickly making me thirsty for more.

It felt blissful, yet it came to an abrupt stop when we heard a loud bang upstairs.

“Well… you were right, it obviously pissed someone off,” I whispered, chuckling.

“What do you think it was?” Jungkook asked, concerned about the strange noise. “It sounded as if someone just slammed the doors shut,” Jungkook stated, and I quickly agreed with him.

“But we left the doors closed, didn’t we?” I wondered, trying to remember our previous actions. Neither one of us was perfectly sober, yet I was pretty sure we did close the doors. “OMG, this is awesome! It was probably another group of adrenaline-seeking people! We could give them the spook of their life if we jumped out of the basement,” I explained, and I was sure I wasn’t perfectly sober right now either.

“It was probably the wind, but okay, let’s do this,” although knowing it was a stupid idea, Jungkook agreed to conduct my improvised prank.

Carefully, we made our way upstairs, yet when we jumped out of our hideaway, there was nobody there.

“Stupid wind,” I murmured under my breath, really bummed out by this whole situation. “Fuck you, you stupid house. You’ve wasted our time,” I hollered at nothing in particular as I approached the doors and pulled the knob. “Jungkook, it won’t open,” I announced, taking a step to the side, letting Jungkook’s strength to let us out.

Seriously, what kind of an estate agent would try to sell this house without repairing it first? At this point, only people from these HGTV shows would consider buying it, so they could later sell it with real profit.

At first, the doors didn’t want to budge either, but then he handed me his camera and roundhouse-kicked the doors open.

Whoever locked the doors, be it the wind, the ghost, or anyone else, Jungkook’s thick thighs were more powerful.

“Let’s get out of here,” Jungkook said as he grabbed my hand and led me outside, leaving the creepy though definitely not haunted house behind us.

***

Although the navigation system on my phone estimated our route to take us forty-five minutes on foot, Jungkook and I made that distance under half an hour. The house was creepy, but we were already late for Jiwoo’s party, and we didn’t want to face her wrath.

She had called me three times, and Jungkook and I lived in a universe where three missed calls from Jiwoo were more terrifying than fifty from mom.

When we reached Jiwoo’s house, we tried knocking on the doors, but unfortunately for us, everybody was already in a good mood. They couldn’t hear the knocks due to loud music, and I couldn’t be angry – it was our punishment for arriving so late.

Thankfully, when we walked the house around, the patio doors were open, so we got inside.

The house was packed with people, yet I was familiar with only a few of them – the majority of guests were Jiwoo’s college friends, and I haven’t yet acquainted them. In the kitchen, I saw Mario and Luigi, and I instantly knew it was Yoongi and Hoseok. Each year they have adorable couple costumes.

“Look who’s finally showed up,” I heard a loud voice from over the stairs, leading to the second floor. It was Daphne, closely followed by Fred.

“I guess Daphne and Fred just checked the bedroom,” I told Jungkook, and he chuckled, getting the reference. “I hope they didn’t find any ghosts.”

“I bet Scooby and Shaggy are already eaten by the ghost in the basement,” Jungkook carried on, and we both started to laugh.

“Your costumes are in my bedroom, but before you change, I have to feed us some jello shots,” Jiwoo started, making us follow her to the kitchen. “In which bushes were you two fucking, so you came so late?” She questioned, but Jungkook and I didn’t know how to reply. Jiwoo was unpredictable – she would either scold us for going to that house without her, or just shout at us for being reckless and irresponsible, but I guess it was her role in our friend circle.

She was the mom friend.

“We weren’t fucking,” I protested quickly, trying to buy us some time to get a better excuse for our late arrival. “If we were indeed fucking, we would be here before anyone else,” I joked, yet Jungkook didn’t find it particularly funny.

It didn’t worry me, though. Jungkook and I dissed each other daily, he wasn’t going to pout. If anything, he was plotting how to get his revenge.

“Well… true,” Jiwoo replied as she high-fived me. “Don’t worry, Kookie. I’m just messing with you,” she added, and I nodded, knowing she was extra mean to impress Jimin. Retorts weren’t her strongest suit, but so far, it was okay.

Jiwoo distributed the jello shots among the four of us, and to my surprise, they weren’t as strong as I had expected them to be. She had made them, and it came to me as a shock, then the proportions weren’t fifty-fifty.

“Oh my God, I just noticed you both have matching costumes. What a coincidence!” Jungkook hollered, faking his surprise, taking  revenge on Jiwoo.

“What can I say? Great minds think alike,” Jiwoo quickly retorted before Jungkook managed to embarrass her in front of her crush.

“Some things are just meant to be,” Jimin added, draping his arm over Jiwoo’s shoulder, making me and Jungkook gag. What the hell had we missed?!

We had totally wasted our time in that haunted house – we could have been here, watching their relationship develop in front of our eyes! Though I had no regrets after reaming around that disappointing trip to that house, now I had one regret. I was genuinely upset that I missed witnessing how the line between their friendship and love faded away.

“OK, you know what? Go upstairs and change. You disgust me without your costumes on,” Jiwoo ordered, shooing us upstairs.

Obediently, we headed to her bedroom, finding our costumes on her bed.

“I’m so tired,” I announced as I plopped down onto her bed, wanting to get some rest. The march from one location to another was more exhausting than I had initially thought, and my legs were killing me.

“Well… it’s all your fault, I told to we should call an Uber,” Jungkook replied, lying on the bed next to me. “No slacking,” Jungkook hollered, playfully slapping my butt. “If we don’t get downstairs in a few minutes, Jiwoo’s gonna bust in here and complain how we ruin her party.”

“True,” I agreed, and with a loud groan, I stood up to get changed. “And that reminds me. You’ve never told me what you’re dressing as this year,” I spoke, wondering what was inside the bag which was sitting next to my costume.

“I didn’t have time to come up with anything, so I asked Jimin to lend me his costume from last year. He was Jack Sparrow or something,” he explained, and I watched him unpacking the bag.

“Or something it is,” I started when I saw what his costume consisted of. It was basically a deep-cut white shirt, a pair of tight leather trousers, and a hat. “Good luck with fitting into it,” I snickered, wondering how uncomfortable it’s going to look like on his powerful thighs.

“Why don’t you shut up,” Jungkook said, not pleased with my commentary.

In silence, we got dressed, and since my costume wasn’t revealing, I could quickly put it on my clothes, which gave me plenty of time to gawk at Jungkook.

“I feel like a piece of meat, right now,” Jungkook commented, as he caught me staring at him, zipping his trousers. “Can you stop staring at me like that? I’m a person with feelings, not a sex toy.”

“Now you know how all girls in clubs feel,” I retorted and continued to stare at him shamelessly. Right now, I only needed a bucket of popcorn and a few bills which I could put under the hem of his pants.

“Aren’t you going to put that creepy make-up?”

“I was going to, but I don’t have energy nor patience to do that,” I answered lazily, watching him button his shirt. “Besides, I checked myself in the mirror, and I’m rocking that Mary-Eunice look right now,” I added, and Jungkook agreed, approving my American Horror Story costume.

“You know what? Even when you wear that ridiculous nun costume, I would still fuck you,” Jungkook blatantly confessed, and I giggled, not knowing how to react to this odd compliment. “I really must be wrapped around your little finger. You even made me go to that abandoned house.”

“You make me blush,” I admitted shyly before approaching him. Then, standing on my toes, I pecked his lips innocently. “We better go downstairs, Jiwoo must be furious at us for taking so long,” I added, exiting the room, leaving Jungkook speechless behind me.

Though at first, we were too tired to party hard, Jimin and Jiwoo engaged us in a few drinking games, and I was thankful I managed to bullshit myself out of playing truth and dare with them.

I realized what Jiwoo would make me do or confess, and I’d rather Jungkook find it out in different, more private, circumstances.

Around three a.m., people slowly started to get tired, one by one heading upstairs to either fuck each other’s brains out or simply find an empty bed to sleep in. At that time, Jungkook and I were chilling in the kitchen, munching on the food which other guests had the courtesy of leaving.

“We should go on a date on Saturday,” Jungkook proposed, and I looked him in the eyes, nodding my head. “What do you want to do on our first date?” He asked, leaning against the countertop next to me.

“Is there any chance you’re wearing this outfit on our first date?” I asked, and Jungkook quickly shook his head. I teased him all night about this outfit, and by now, he must’ve dreamed about taking it off at least a dozen times. Best case scenario: taking it off right in front of already naked me.

“Nope, stare at me while you still can,” Jungkook said, and I didn’t dare to question his decision. Though he looked like a snack, I respected his choice. He wasn’t going to wear it again, and I wasn’t going to force him. Besides, I was kind of curious about how he looked naked. “So… what do you want to do on Saturday? Bowling? A candlelight supper? Cinema?”

“I was gonna say that anything is fine as long as it’s with you, but would you really prepare a candlelight supper for me?” I questioned, quite amazed by his proposition. Jungkook rarely cooked himself, and even if he happened to whip something up in the kitchen, it would be ramen or something just as easy to make.

“Of course, anything,” Jungkook promised, and I tried my very best right not to kiss him. “It probably won’t be any tasty, but at least, I made it with my hands.”

Oh, screw it.

Instantly, I pulled him closer, smashing my lips against his. The moment he realized what I was doing, he reciprocated the kiss.

“I don’t really care,” I spoke, wrapping my legs around his hips. “Oh, shit,” I cursed upon noticing Jiwoo and pushed Jungkook away.

“I think everybody’s asleep already, what are you guys still doing here?” She asked, eyeing the both of us.

“Nothing, we were just eating,” I stated, though Jiwoo didn’t fully believe in my innocent reply. “What have you been up to? Your green scarf is gone, and you have a hickey on your neck. Have you had fun with Jimin?” I inquired, and she looked away in embarrassment.

Jiwoo had never been to shy away, but she didn’t act like herself around Jimin. When with him, she became a better person, and right now, she was blushing. It was the first time when I saw her behaving like that, and I liked it.

With Jimin by her side, Jiwoo was slowly turning in the best version of herself, and the transition was crystal clear. Even Jungkook wouldn’t miss it.

“We’ll talk about it tomorrow; right now, I just want to clean up and go to bed,” Jiwoo said, and I knew it was our cue to live. I didn’t like cleaning, and I knew Jiwoo wouldn’t appreciate my help. She would prefer Jimin’s assistance. “You’re sleeping in the guest room with Yoongi and Hoseok.”

“Thanks,” I replied, and we slowly headed to the guest room, knowing that Jimin would shortly join Jiwoo. They thought they were subtle, but they really weren’t. One look was enough, and Jungkook and I knew everything.

“I hope Yoongi and Hoseok already fucked each other,” Jungkook stated before we entered our room, and I agreed. I wouldn’t like to walk on them fucking. I just wanted to lie down and get some sleep.

***

On Friday, I focused only on myself. I needed to recover fully after a long night of drinking, but also, I wanted to pamper myself a little bit before my date with Jungkook. I was sure he was going to prepare everything to perfection, like the golden boy he has always been, and it only made sense that his girlfriend (me) also ought to be perfect.

I took a long, relaxing bath, I wore a face mask, I ate plenty of fruit, I planned my next week of college, I even turned on the relatively new drama with Ji Changwook, and whipped up a mug of cocoa with marshmallows.

The day was peaceful, and I cherished every second of it before I had to face reality and go to classes on Monday.

In the evening, I even chatted with Jiwoo, listening to a few newest rumors. I didn’t expect her to have any time to spare, but apparently, to her, gossip was more important than her new boyfriend. Good thing she had her priorities set straight.

That crazy Capricorn girl | 17:21 | omg you won’t believe it!

That crazy Capricorn girl | 17:21 | I know why Seulgi and Irene didn’t come

That crazy Capricorn girl | 17:21 | apparently

That crazy Capricorn girl | 17:21 | they were on a date yesterday!

That crazy Capricorn girl | 17:22 | Chanyeol told Jimin that Jongin were their Uber driver and he took them to a fancy restaurant

That crazy Capricorn girl | 17:22 | I was gonna get really mad

That crazy Capricorn girl | 17:23 | but I ship them so hard

That crazy Capricorn girl | 17:23 | I mean…

That crazy Capricorn girl |17:23 | fucking finally

Jiwoo wasn’t ashamed of double texting, obviously. If she had gossip to deliver, she would spam anyone until she would get a reply, and frankly, it never upset me. Mostly because I was texting the same way.

Me | 17:25 | told you

Me | 17:25| I knew they had hots for each other

Me | 17:26 | you should be glad they didn’t come

Me | 17:26 | they probably fucked all night long

Me | 17:27 | that would be gross if they did it at your place

Me | 17:27 | it’s enough that Jungkook and I walked on Yoongi and Hoseok

Me | 17:28 | if it was my house I’d kick them out

That crazy Capricorn girl | 17:30 | they did what????

That crazy Capricorn girl | 17:31 | are you kidding me???

That crazy Capricorn girl |17:31 | so Jimin lied to me

Me | 17:32 | wow

Me | 17:32 | you started dating and he’s already lying

That crazy Capricorn girl | 17:33 | Jimin told me they behaved well

Me | 17:34 | pls don’t make a scene

Me | 17:35 | you better let them taste their own medicine

That crazy Capricorn girl | 17:35 | I knew I shouldn’t have invited them

That crazy Capricorn girl | 17:35 | they’re cute but also horny af

With Jiwoo, when we started texting, we didn’t know how to stop. Topics would come and go, and we would always come up with something new. This night wasn’t any different. When we discussed everyone’s behavior during the party, late changing the subject to the people who couldn’t make it. Then, we would exchange messages about the newest K-POP hits, scandals, and dramas. Sometimes, we would even send memes to one another.

Usually, we would continue our conversation until one of us was tired and went to sleep, but tonight a bizarre text from Jungkook made me finish.

Cutie Goo Baby Kook | 21:41 | come over

Cutie Goo Baby Kook | 21:41 | now

Well… rude.

We didn’t even go on our first date yet, and he treated me like a booty call.

No, it couldn’t be.

Me | 21:42 | what do you mean???

Me | 21:42 | Jeon Jungkook

Cutie Goo Baby Kook | 21:42 | get your juicy ass over here

Cutie Goo Baby Kook | 21:43 | asap

Cutie Goo Baby Kook | 21:43 | you need to see something

What the hell did he want? Couldn’t he wait until tomorrow to meet me? If he wanted to see me, he could just text me like he a regular person. He didn’t have to act like an asshole about it.

Me | 21:45 | fine

Me | 21:45 | I’ll be in thrity

Me | 21:46 | if it’s your dick that I need to see you’re dead

***

Within thirty minutes, I was at Jungkook’s apartment, breathing heavily. His flat was located on the fourth floor, and the elevator was out of order, and whenever I had to take the stairs, I could feel blood on my tongue.

It wouldn’t hurt me that much to tag along once in a while to the gym with Kook. Well… hopefully.

“What’s the emergency?” I asked instantly when Jungkook swung the doors open. “Jungkook, I swear, if it’s a booty call, I’m gonna be pissed,” I warned him when Jungkook grabbed my wrist and yanked me inside.

“No, it’s nothing like that,” Jungkook reassured me as he led me to his bedroom.

Well… he might’ve said it wasn’t a booty call, yet his actions were giving me a totally different message. He was literally dragging me to his bedroom.

“What is going on?” I asked once again, as he made me sit in his gaming chair.

“So… I was editing the footage we recorded at this creepy house, and I found some weird shit,” he started before he leaned against the desk, looking for the right file to show me. “I watched every frame of these tapes, and there’s something seriously wrong with your individual session in the basement.”

“What do you mean by wrong? Can you be more specific? I didn’t feel nor see anything weird when I was down there,” I said, cocking my eyebrows up in utter confusion. Was there something my eye didn’t catch, but the camera did?

“Well… there is like a shadow lingering above you,” Jungkook confessed, and I fought the urge to laugh into his face. It was a shadow, and shadows do linger. “You don’t seem convinced, so why don’t you see for yourself?”

“Ugh, fine,” I answered, focusing on the screen.

I couldn’t believe my own eyes. Jungkook was right. It lasted for a couple of seconds; there was an irregular black specter behind me, and it couldn’t be my shadow – I was perfectly still while it moved for a while, and then disappeared.

It was terrifying.

“I’m speechless.”

Seeing my reaction, Jungkook sat on the edge of the desk and grabbed my hand.

“I know it looks like something supernatural, but I’m pretty sure it can be explained somehow. Don’t worry; all fellow ghost hunters would discredit this evidence in seconds.”

“I’m not worried; I don’t know what I’m feeling, but it’s not worry,” I spoke, still a little shook about the discovery. “Did you find anything else when editing?” I inquired, wondering if Jungkook had more aces up his sleeve.

“Nothing solid,” he declared with a sigh. “I was listening to the messages picked up by the spirit box, and one statement which you assumed unintelligible sounds like not alone, but once again, it’s not perfectly clear. It’s probably just my mind interpreting the white noise.”

“Too bad ghosts ain’t real. If we caught it on tape, we would be millionaires,” I confessed, and Jungkook nodded.

“If it makes you feel any better, I think we’ve gathered a lot of entertaining footage; my viewers are going to love it. It’s probably the dumbest video I’ve ever recorded,” Jungkook spoke, and I started to grin.

He was right – we were a great duo.

“Glad, I could help,” I answered proudly, boasting about my recording skills. Having tooted my own horn for an inappropriate amount of time, I inquired, “Since I’m already here, what do you want to do?”

“How about we cuddle?” Jungkook proposed, plopping on his bed, waiting for me to join him, and since his proposition was irresistible, I obediently lay down beside him, resting my head on his firm chest. “Mm… it’s so comfy,” Jungkook purred as he wrapped his arms tightly around me.

“Have you decided where you’re taking me tomorrow?” I inquired, curious as hell about our date. Knowing Jungkook and how perfect he was at everything he did, I could only guess he would exceed my wildest expectations.

“How is it gonna sound if I tell you I’ve already had it planned out for a while?” Jungkook confessed, and I giggled when he started to press delicate kisses across my neck. It was ticklish, but I liked being teased like that.

“Is there a chance you tell me? You know I hate surprises,” I spoke, turning around on my side, caressing Jungkook’s chest and abs. Jungkook smiled adorably and shook his head. Damn it. “Is there a chance I can guess it?” I tried a different approach, but Jungkook shook his head once again.

“You’ll find out tomorrow,” Jungkook said, and I pouted.

“Is there a chance I can convince you to tell me now?” I challenged him, and before he managed to shake his head again, I sat astride on his muscular thighs, making him speechless. “You can tell me. I can pretend I’m surprised tomorrow,” I urged him, playfully moving my hips against his crotch. Curiosity was in my nature, and Jungkook was really getting under my skin with his stubbornness.

“You’re cute when you’re frustrated,” Jungkook stated before he effortlessly flipped us over, pinning me down to the mattress. “I’d love to push you to your limits, but I’m not ruining the surprise.”

“Come on, Jungkook. You can tell me. We’re best friends, and we don’t keep secrets from each other,” I carelessly mumbled until Jungkook shut me up with a passionate kiss, reminding me that we no longer were just best friends.

With my eyes closed, I gave in entirely, letting Jungkook’s hands roam all over my body. Our mouths moved in sweet harmony while my body writhed beneath him every time his little touches set my skin on fire.

This moment was magical, and I wished every time with Jungkook to be just as good. His smooth and soft movements made my body respond, leaving me breathless and craving for me whenever it lost contact with his hands.

“I really want to fuck you right now,” Jungkook absentmindedly confessed while he was pressing sensual kisses along my chin. “We should wait, shouldn’t we?” I inquired, and I wanted to shout my objection.

Judging by his boner digging into my thigh, he also wanted me to oppose.

“You should’ve thought about it before you kissed me like that,” I replied, and Jungkook smirked, tugging my blouse out of my jeans, slipping his large hands on my bare stomach, slowly making his way up to my breasts. “It’s too late to go back, lover boy,” I added, undoing the buttons of my blouse.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous.”

“Drop dead,” I corrected him, and Jungkook hummed in agreement, his eyes focused on my cleavage, wondering how my breasts bounce. Arching my back, I wrapped my hands around Jungkook’s hips, pressing them against me, making me feel his throbbing cock.

“You won’t be a good girl, will you?” Jungkook asked me, and I bit my lip, shaking my head, hoping he expected such an answer. “Of course, you won’t. Why did I even ask?” Jungkook smirked, playfully nibbling my delicate skin all over my cleavage, while his hand undid the button of my jeans.

“You always assume the worst when it comes to me,” I reminded him, tugging the hem of his T-shirt, wanting to get rid of it. It wasn’t fair – I was almost half-naked while Jungkook was still fully-clothed. “Take it off, I’m losing my patience,” I ordered, and Jungkook quickly pulled his T-shirt over his head, tossing in on the floor. “Jeans, too,” I added, and with an angry growl, Jungkook stood up and discarded his pants as well.

“Happy?” Jungkook asked, standing in front of me only in a pair of boxers.

“Over the moon,” I retorted, and Jungkook smirked as a playful idea crossed his mind. “What are you thinking about?” I questioned uncertainly, but Jungkook didn’t bother to reply. He just leaned forward, slid his fingers under the hem of my jeans, and pulled them down in one fluid motion.

“You make me impatient,” he confessed, and I kneeled on the bed, waiting for him to join me again. I needed him to kiss every inch of my body.

Right now.

“Come here,” I urged him, and he obediently sat on the bed, allowing me to sit astride on him again. “I wanna fuck you like this,” I blurted out, entwining my fingers behind Jungkook’s neck, pulling him closer into another heated kiss.

“I want you to fuck me like this,” Jungkook whispered when we finally parted. “Just jump on it and ride me until I come,” he said before reaching to his night stand for a condom. “Roll it down for me, will you?”

Obediently, I pulled Jungkook’s boxers down, and smeared the pre-cum all over his thick cock before putting a condom.

“I wanted it for so long,” Jungkook whispered when I raised my hips, slowly getting seated on his length. Though Jungkook didn’t go down on me before I took his cock, I didn’t mind it. It stung a little, but I enjoyed this sensation.

“Fuck yeah,” I moaned when I slid down his length all the way to the base. For a short while, neither of us moved, letting one another get used to it. “You stretch me up so fine,” I muttered, gently rolling my hips.

“Move, princess,” Jungkook urged me, and I began to ride him. At first, my actions were delicate and a little shy, but as soon as I relaxed, I picked up the pace, rocking my hips back and forth, making Jungkook moan loudly.

“I love it when men are vocal,” I confessed when I put my hands in his hair, tugging it slightly when I happened to fall out of my rhythm. “It gets me off much faster,” I added, and as if I challenged him, Jungkook moaned again.

“Good to know; now I gotta use this information to my advantage,” Jungkook whimpered with a soft smirk upon his face. “You love hearing my deep moans, don’t you?” Jungkook asked, and I replied in a heartbeat.

“Yes!” I exclaimed when Jungkook began thrusting his hips from underneath, shoving his cock deeper and deeper inside of me. “Ahh… Jung-Jungkook, keep fucking me like that, please, don’t stop,” I begged, and Jungkook even increased his pace, quickly making me overwhelmed in pleasure.

“Your pussy feels so good,” Jungkook started, and I closed my eyes, feeling my orgasm approaching. With a couple of thrusts, I would come around his pulsating cock, and I couldn’t wait to welcome this blissful feeling. “So tight, yet you take my fat cock so well,” he praised, and I pulled his hair when he made me come.

“Fuck, Jungkook, that was amazing,” I praised him, and Jungkook kept ramming his dick inside of me, chasing his own release. His stamina was no joke, and I was feeling lucky because this incredible man was mine.

“Shit, shit, shit, I’m coming.” Shortly after me, Jungkook reached his orgasm, milking the condom with his jizz. “You’re out of this world,” Jungkook whispered before he wrapped his arms around me tightly, kissing me deeply.

We were both sticky with sweat, and we smelled like sex, but right now, I couldn’t care any less. Jungkook and I were floating in heaven.

“We should do it again in the morning,” Jungkook proposed, and I laughed, realizing it was the first time in my life I was actually excited to wake up early.

Unfortunately, our plans fell through.

Before my arrival, Jungkook had uploaded our Halloween clip into his YouTube channel, and then, Jimin forwarded it to Jiwoo.

Needless to say, Jiwoo blew up my inbox with notifications, furious at me and Jungkook for doing something so reckless shit without her supervision. Once again, she was the mom friend, and going into an abandoned house without her knowing was pure evil.

Thankfully, she didn’t hold a grudge for a long time – she grew pretty soft on us as soon as she discovered Jungkook and I were well… dating.