#sigh…at least we can make cool concepts in our heads

[feather-reblogs]

GGs Team Past!

I was kinda hoping for a cool futuristic game with more lore on deep cut (also a supplement for Order losing Splat 2 FinalFest) but the Great Turf War??? Maybe?????

Anyways, I had a great time with you all! Until the next fest :D

[moonstruckme]

you’re carrying the poly!marauders girlies out here on tumbler rn with all of these writings of yours! could i request some aftercare with the marauders where they’re rly sweet and gentle with a tired reader plz? if not i get it i love your fics <3

Haha thanks lovely! I wouldn't even know about the concept of poly!marauders if not for all the spectacular fics I've read on here, so happy to further the cause. And of course you can! :)

cw: an itty bitty portion of this is smutty and there's definitely plenty implied, so mdni (?) just to be safe

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 863 words

You collapse onto James’ chest, your skin hot and sweaty where it meets his. The only sound in the room is panting, Sirius and Remus having finished just a minute before the two of you.��

“Let’s just go to sleep here,” you mumble into James’ neck, at the peak of contentment with his dick softening inside you and his hand coming up to cup the back of your head. His chuckle rumbles through you as he kisses your cheek, your shoulder. You don’t think you’ve ever been so tired. 

“Wish we could, but I don’t think that’s gonna work, m’love,” he murmurs in reply, and sure enough, you hear the shifting of sheets as Sirius and Remus recover. 

You let your eyes slip shut anyways, hoping to get whatever rest you can and maybe a little in denial. You’re barely conscious of the quiet footfalls of your boyfriends as they approach, but you notice when a cool hand moves the sweat-damp hair from your face. 

“Tired, love?” Comes Remus’ gentlest tone. 

“Mhm.” 

“Aw, Prongs, you’ve really tuckered our poor angel out.” Sirius’ voice is teasing, and you feel James shift as he leans up for a kiss. Normally you’d be envious and raise your head for a kiss of your own, but you can’t muster the energy. “C’mon, sweetheart, let’s go get cleaned up.” 

You sigh, and it sounds as whiny and exhausted as you feel. You’ll worry about your dignity tomorrow. “You go. M’gonna sleep here.” 

There’s a beat of silence, and you can practically feel Sirius’ sympathetic pout, probably making his case to Remus on your behalf. Then there are hands on your hips, and James’ cock slips out of you as you’re lifted off the bed. 

“You don’t want to sleep in all that, honey,” Remus says, setting you on your feet. Your legs tremble underneath you, thoroughly worn out after the ride you’ve had on James just a minute before. “It won’t take long, and then we can all go to bed after.” 

Sirius has disappeared into the bathroom, and James gets out of bed once he spots the tremor in your knees. “I got you, angel,” he says chivalrously, taking a good portion of your weight with an arm under your shoulders. “Seems like the least I can do.” He winks. The two of you follow Remus into the bathroom, and you’re reminded of how grateful you are that James comes from money, because he’s the only one with a shower big enough to fit all of you. 

SIrius is already inside and James passes you off to him, going to fetch towels. The hot water doesn’t lessen your drowsiness, and Sirius has to brace himself against the wall as you melt against him. “Easy, sweetheart,” he laughs. “We’re not all athletes made of pure muscle.” 

“Sorry,” you say sheepishly, moving to lean on the wall beside him. 

“Our good girl,” he coos, gripping you with a hand around your waist to ensure you don’t slip. Remus and James are lathering themselves in soap beside you, the steamy air filling with the scent of lavender and eucalyptus. “Riding cowgirl isn’t so easy, hm?”

“I don’t think my legs will ever recover.” 

Sirius’ grin is wolfish. “I’ll massage them for you, baby.” 

James snorts, and you roll your droopy eyes. “Thanks.” 

Remus has finished rinsing off, and his skin slides against yours as he wraps his arm around your back. “Pads, love, wash off. I’ve got her.” 

Sirius slips free of you, joining James under the stream of hot water. Remus lathers some soap in his hands and grabs a washcloth, gentle but thorough as he removes the sweat and slick from your breasts, your stomach, your thighs. You whimper softly as the cloth brushes your cunt, and Remus’ grip tightens slightly around your waist. 

“I know, love,” he murmurs. “You’re alright. Not too sore, are you?”

“No, just sensitive.”

He hums, thumb stroking comfortingly on your back. 

Remus is right; it’s only a few minutes before you’re all emerging from the shower smelling far nicer and feeling far less sticky than when you went in. You miss the hot water for only a moment before James is wrapping you in a towel, a matching one slung around his waist. Remus slips out of the bathroom to change the bedsheets while you stay in the steam with James and Sirius, both boys letting you brush their hair out for them before Sirius does yours, working the tangles free with a gentle hand. When Remus tells you all the bed is ready, you’re eager to slip on one of James’ t-shirts and into the soft sheets, your eyes closing before your head hits the pillow. Sirius rubs up and down your back as he settles in behind you, and it’s all you can do to hum lazily in thanks. 

Even he seems too tired to make fun of your lethargy, and the room is silent but for the sounds of quiet breathing once again. 

“I love you all,” you murmur into the darkness, and you fall asleep before you can hear anything else, but you know they say it back.

[sehtoast]

Tender Threads CH5 (Homelander x OC)

chapter five: little spider

chapter directory | slow burn, hurt/comfort, fluff, spidersona as original character, original trans male character, smut, sublander

summary: don't be the odd one out, bug boy. time to meet the family

Should one find it comforting to approach the room in which their new coworkers reside and hear heavy bickering from beyond the door?  In a way, Benjamin does.  Despite the annoyance barely disguised on Stillwell’s face, the bug finds it nothing but reassuring that his teammates show no care for strict decorum.

Here he thought the new suit being firmly planted partway up his ass was to remind him to keep clenched and at attention.

There’s no doubt of who’s who when that sliding door parts.

“I’m just saying, a movie about freeing animals from an aquarium isn’t that cool of a concept.” A-Train says with a dismissive wave of his hand.

“Oh, and baby track star is?”  Counters The Deep as he leans over his side of the V shaped table.

“I’m just saying mine was a box office buster and yours flopped,” the speedster returns with a scoff. “Like a fish.”

“Hey, fuck you man!  At least my movies are about real problems!”

It takes but a simple clearing of the throat and a look not unlike a disappointed teacher arriving to find her class has devolved into chaos to get the two men to cease their bickering altogether.

“Where is Homelander?”  Stillwell asks, sighing in exasperation as her question is either answered by shrugs or flat out ignored.

The team exchanges uncertain glances.  Even Benjamin wonders where he is.  Given how the man in question stalked him mercilessly, he’d think Homelander wouldn’t miss this for the world.  There was satisfaction to be had in this, so just where in the world is he?

Judging by the look on Stillwell’s face, getting Homelander to follow directions was… perhaps a little difficult.

“Well, we can just continue without him.  Everyone,” she gestures to Ben, “this is, as you’re all well aware, Spider-Man.  Consider this your first formal meeting.  Play nice, behave yourselves, and absolutely no hazing the new guy.”

“Yes ma’am,” The Deep responds, which earns him a look.

“Hi, everyone.” Ben waves.  Meeting new people was never quite his forte either.  What was he really even supposed to do, give a speech? Thank them?  Absolutely not.

“We don’t haze anyone here, right gang?”  Chirps that over the top boy scout voice, suddenly appearing as if from thin air.  In the doorway stands Homelander, leather gloves held aloft in his hands and a smile fit to rival the sun beaming to greet the room. His eyes flit to Benjamin, giving him a full look up and down.  “Madelyn, I’m wounded.  You did introductions without me?  Sheesh.” 

“If you’d show up on time, you could be included in the fun.” She snaps back.

Ben knew a history when he saw it, and the two reeked of one.  Homelander, with a huffed laugh and roll of his eyes, saunters past her and makes his way to the head of the table.  The bug bites back a smile when that same swish of the cape from the other night is performed once again for Homelander to sit.

Bet that gets annoying.

“Good luck,” Stillwell whispers before her clicking heels echo down the hall and the door seals.

Yeah, just leave me to fend for myself…

“Well, Spider-Man, take a seat…”  Homelander goads with a gesture to the chair to his right.

That close to him?  Shouldn’t someone else–

“No need to wait for an invitation, bug boy.  Sit.”  The way he watches Ben approach sends a shiver down the bug’s spine.  There was something different in his gaze, something… unknown.  The initial up and down look Homelander had given him seemed only like he was checking out the new suit, but now..?  Benjamin takes his seat cautiously.

His focus snaps away from the bug suddenly. “All right everyone, you know the drill! How'd we do this week? Who’d we save? How are our numbers?”

A-Train and The Deep both begin rattling off their figures, with the latter giving far more enthusiasm.  A-Train’s latest movie, Training with A-Train, was a box office success.  The Deep’s recent sea creature activism campaign raked in a whopping twenty million in donations alone.

Maeve gives some spiel about toy sales with a clear lack of enthusiasm. Then comes Starlight, who mentions having stopped a mugging on her morning walk in the park.

Noir simply nods.

In the cross chatter, Ben analyzes each of their profiles on the HUD in his lenses.  He decides knowing as much about them is best and an excellent opportunity to play with his new tool.  He finds nothing terribly unexpected.  Schooling records, restrictions and limitations, medical information– which he’s surprised is so freely available,  and their regular names.

Reginald Franklin.  Kevin Moscowitz.  Margaret Shaw.  Annie January.

He tries to sneak a peek at Noir, but–

“How about you, Spider-Man?”  Homelander interrupts with a smug grin, leaning forward as if to show how utterly invested he is.  

Of course, Ben wouldn’t have any numbers to boast, no merchandise sales, no product contracts.  It’s all a way to single him out and make him look lesser– on his very first day, no less.  But Benjamin had something. 

“Well, uhm… last night I stopped a couple guys holding up a bodega over in Harlem, and some dudes trying to boost a car a few blocks over.  Oh!  And the day before that, I helped an old lady cross a busy street with her groceries since no one thought to help her out, y’know– I mean, I basically ended up carrying everything home for her, but she bought me a churro so… that was cool.”

Homelander stares at him with an arched brow and a look of mild amusement.

“Oh, I also got some guy from a car accident to the hospital faster than the ambulance could.  Rush hour traffic and all.” 

Behind the mask, Ben chews his lower lip between his canines.  He imagines Homelander didn’t expect him to have something to contribute, let alone something that took up more than a brief second.

Homelander’s eye twitches and he cracks a smile that’s all too fake.  “Wow,” he scoffs.  “Quite the full plate you’ve got there, helping all the old gals out.  Anyway…”

Once the attention is away, Ben goes back to his reading.  He decides to find info on Noir another day as looking over at him for any extended period of time would seem a little awkward, especially given their proximity.  Homelander, though?  It made sense that he should be staring at him.  All eyes on the speaker, right?

The team captain paces in front of the windows, hands behind his back as he laments that The Seven should be doing more, not just looking pretty and selling bullshit.  While he rambles about their god-given power, Ben tries over and over again to access Homelander’s information.

Everything on that file that wasn’t public knowledge was either redacted or nonexistent.  A censored first name, no last name.  No hometown, no education, no medical information.  No age, no birthday… Homelander was a ghost in Vought’s own system.

Which, of course, makes the bug all the more curious of his new boss.  Thus far the HUD hadn’t blocked him from accessing anyone else’s information, so why start now?  Hell, the real question to ask is why Vought would even give him a tool like this.  Did they want him to be able to just scrounge up any kind of information on anyone he wants at any given moment?  It seems a little… odd to simply hand something this powerful over to the new guy.

Of course, with Benjamin being who he is as a person, he’s determined to crack his way past whatever restrictions are preventing him from learning more.  Access to the full system was now a must, but he’d have to wait.  It wouldn’t do well to be caught causing trouble after just being hired.  

Especially not when his consequences were so clearly laid out by the star-spangled supe himself.

“Alright, everyone.  That’ll do it.  Get out there and make me proud!”  Homelander says with an all too forced smile before immediately pointing to Ben.  “Not you, though.  I want a word first.”

The bug wasn’t sure if it was the fact it was Homelander making him stay or the nervous side-eyed looks the rest of the team gave him that made his stomach practically do flips.  

He gulps when the sliding doors seal.

“So, bug boy.  What do you know, if anything at all, about what happened to Translucent?”  Homelander asks as he saunters over, hands behind his back.  His gaze pierces so cleanly through the mask that it’s almost sickening that he has the power to look clear through Ben’s only line of defense.  

“Uhm… I mean, not more than what’s out there already.  Didn’t he get hurt on some mission and he’s–”

“No,” Homelander says flatly.  “Nope, he’s dead.  No mission, that’s just some corporate bullshit Vought made up to explain the open seat while they scramble to unfuck everything.”  He turns on his heel, beckoning Benjamin with a gesture of two fingers.  “Come.”

The elevator ride down is tense and silent.  Benjamin resists the urge to look over at his new boss.  He’s not sure why; it’s not like looking at Homelander was a crime.  Would he follow through with that threat simply because the bug peeked over at him?  Did he know about the HUD?  Would he be pissed about it if he didn’t?

Questions built upon questions until the soft dinging sound announced their arrival to the basement that Benjamin didn’t even know existed.

Homelander saunters out, cape swaying with every step toward what appears to be a morgue.  He continues on, passing workers in lab coats until he stops before a glass window overlooking a separate room full of more staff.  On the table inside lays nothing– or so Benjamin thinks until a woman seemingly picks up a piece of that nothing and drops it into a plastic biohazard bag that sags with weight.

“That’s Translucent, right there.” Homelander announces, tapping his fingertip against the glass.  He stares at Benjamin intently.  “See the box in there by the corner?”

Ben cranes his neck, but he finds it, nodding.

“Made of fuckin’ zinc.  Only thing in the world I can’t see through.  So, not only do we have someone smart enough to kill a supe, they know how to fuck with us, too.”  With a loud sigh and a roll of his eyes, Homelander beckons Benjamin to follow him to a quiet, empty room.

“Now, of all of us, you’re the most active in this rat-fuck infested shit-hole of a city.  I want you out there with your eyes and ears open for anything,” he accentuates his words with a pointed finger. “When you find something, you come to me. Not Stillwell, not those morons in analytics.  Me. D’you understand?”

“I– yeah.  Yeah, gotcha.”

Homelander smiles, staring clear through the mask to read the bug’s expression.  A lingering silence tenses the moment before Homelander tilts his head to the side and inches closer, coming all but toe to toe with the bug.

“You…” he begins, voice low and a smile creeping onto his face more and more by the second to reveal those sharp teeth.  He pats Benjamin’s left shoulder and grips it– not too tight, but just tight enough.

The web-head stands firm, despite how his legs tremble and anxiety stirs in the pit of his gut.  In a flash, the mask is all but ripped off of his head, jostling him forward and causing him to plant his hands on Homelander’s chest to still himself.

Fuck, fuck, fuck–

“There it is,” Homelander lilts.  “That look in your eye.  God, I love it.”

Ben understood without it even being said.  Homelander likes making him feel vulnerable.  He likes how Benjamin backs down the minute the mirage of Spider-Man is taken from him.  How, even if he has it nonetheless, Homelander is the exception.

It certainly isn’t hard to see through the act of removing his mask.

Ben relocates a hand to grip Homelander’s wrist– the one belonging to the hand that holds his mask aloft.

Defiance.

At least what little he can muster, only to have his own wrist snatched and held in a grip stronger than anything he could ever hope to break.

“Ooh,” Homelander purrs, grin growing wider.  “I think you and I are gonna have tons of fun working together.”  He stares into Benjamin’s eyes, carnage incarnate within the oceans of his own.  Homelander leans in closer, almost as if he were a lover going in for a kiss, but he stops short of such an act to flit his gaze up and down the bug’s body.

Benjamin’s heart pounds within his chest, and he gulps thickly at what words follow, hating the way his body reacts to them– or maybe it was the fucking proximity, the tone, the feeling of Homelander’s breath against his skin, he doesn’t fucking know. There's an unwanted tingle of arousal that has him ready to jump out of his skin with pure horror. 

What– why– Oh god...

“You’re my little spider now.”

[sexynetra]

Did someone ask for a WIP Wednesday?

(No, nobody did but I'm posting one anyways :) )

---------

“Are you ready to go? Anyone you want to say goodbye to first?”

She shook her head again, setting the bottle down on the counter. “No, I think… I think the cool air will do me some good.”

The adrenaline of the situation had kept her semi-functional, but now that her body realized it was safe, the liquor she had consumed with reckless abandon was coming back to bite her. And she still couldn’t stop herself from staring.

“I think it might too, Marsh. You’ve been swaying since we got to the kitchen… how much did you have to drink anyways?”

Marcia shrugged, carding a hand through the now-wild curls she’d so carefully styled all afternoon. “Dunno. I stopped counting after a while.”

Anetra crinkled her nose and Marcia almost missed what she said because the action was so cute, so delicate, and innocent in a way she didn’t really associate with the girl.

“Um. Sorry. Can you say that again?” She stuttered with a blush, her lower lip finding its way back between her teeth.

“I said I don’t envy you the hangover you’re gonna have tomorrow. I have some Advil back in our room that you can take,” Anetra offered as she moved to put her hand to Marcia’s back, leading her back toward the door. “You’re gonna freeze out there in that. Did you bring a jacket?” she asked with a frown, grabbing her own jacket off the coat rack with her free hand.

Marcia nodded, reaching for her own coat. She glanced enviously at Anetra, whose jacket looked thick and warm and high quality, compared to the thin flimsy one she had gotten for this costume. It looked cute but it wasn’t going to keep her very warm on the walk.

Anetra looked over at Marcia, brows furrowed slightly as she watched her. Marcia had her jacket in her arms but was making no move to put it on, eyes locked on the coat Anetra had just shrugged onto her own shoulders.

It took Anetra a second to understand. She shrugged her jacket off with a sigh. “You can wear mine. We’re basically the same size anyways.” 

She draped the warm leather over Marcia’s shoulders, carefully extricating the other jacket from her grip to throw over her arm so Marcia wouldn’t have to hold it. The leather was soft and worn, clearly well-loved. It felt like butter against her skin and smelled like a mixture of weed and something that she was pretty sure was jasmine. It shouldn’t have smelled as good as it did. She nuzzled against the fabric, pulling it tighter around herself before looking up, giving Anetra a warm smile.

“Thank you. You’re secretly really sweet, aren’t you?”

Anetra smiled back, ducking her head a little. “I didn’t realize I was keeping it a secret.”

“You totally are. You play the tough guy with the brooding silence and the smoking and the sexy scar on your eye. But it’s all a lie and you’re not actually tough. You’re soft,” Marcia announced decidedly. It wasn’t necessarily that she thought Anetra wasn’t tough or intimidating. After all, she vividly remembered how dangerous Anetra had looked the one time she made her angry. But she was certainly second-guessing her concept of Anetra as mean and aloof. After all, how mean could a girl who had literally given her the jacket off of her back be?

“I think I can be tough and soft… wait, did you say my scar is sexy?” She cut her own comment off, face twisting in a funny way Marcia didn’t recognize. If it were on anyone other than Anetra, she would say it looked shy. She had colored in the scar when she did her makeup, a far cry from the usual attempts to make it blend in as much as possible. Marcia wasn’t sure exactly why she had decided to do that, but she thought it made her look like an action hero, some sort of brave knight or powerful spy. It made Anetra even more striking, to Marcia at least.

“That’s surprisingly nice to hear. I’ve always hated it,” she said quietly as she pulled open the door, smiling back at Marcia. “Now let’s go, I’m sick of being in this apartment right now.” 

Even drunk, Marcia could tell Anetra was trying to cut off the conversation, which only piqued her curiosity, but she obediently stepped through the doorway, shoving her hands in the pockets of Anetra’s jacket and looking up at the night sky.

[italiansteebie]

"where's steve?"

"hey, how are you?"

"wh- where is steve?"

"hello. nice to see you."

"ugh, oh my god. hi, robin! it's nice to see you too! now where is steve?"

robin rolls her eyes at the child in front of her. couldn't she get a moments peace to think about nancy? or the fact that she hasn't practiced her clarinet piece in like 2 weeks? oh shit... she should really do that.

"i don't know,"

"wha- how could you not know?"

"i'm not his like, keeper, or whatever, dustin!"

"i mean you kinda are..."

seriously. that's what these kids see her as? just some random girl who showed up just to hang around steve?

"look. i don't know where he is, check eddie's. now get out or rent a movie. geeze."

dustin huffs and spins around to the door, grumbling something about "best friend my ass, doesn't even know where he is." and all robin can do is roll her eyes. she watches as dustin gets on his bike and pedals away. she sighs and picks up the phone next to her, punching in eddie's number.

"munsons, what's up?"

"hey ed."

"oh hey bucks! what's going on?"

"figured steve was over at yours and was gonna warn you that dustin's on his way."

she hears eddie sigh and shout the message back to who she presumes is steve.

"thanks bucks. saved us a whole lotta embarrassment there."

robin thinks about that for a second, "oh ew! im hanging up now."

eddie laughs and she cuts the sound off by hanging up the phone. she shakes her head, how did she find herself with these people? stupid scoops ahoy. stupid russians. gross.

her thoughts are interrupted by none other than max mayfield waltzing into the store. she's got her thick ass glasses pressed against her face and a slight scowl that seems to be her default. "hey red, what ya lookin for?"

"uh. im not sure actually. i just didn't want to be home anymore."

robin beckons her over to the counter, motioning for her to hop up and join her. "can i ask you a question, max?"

"yeah, sure..."

"el is like, your best friend, right?"

"mhm."

"do you know where she is right now?"

max squints at her, which is a funny scene because her glasses make her eyes huge, "i don't know, at home, maybe? why?"

robin sighs, hoping of the counter and pacing for a moment, "dustin came in and demanded to know where steve is,"

"how would you know that? you're not his keeper."

"exactly! that's exactly what i said. i- im just wondering, is that all you guys think i am? steve's friend? i thought, yknow... after we saved the world i was your friend too."

max scoffs. "don't listen to anything dustin says. he thinks i know where lucas is at all times. he's got this weird thing about girls. if we're not with our guy friends or boyfriends then we're not like... a person or whatever. it's stupid. he's stupid."

robin laughs at that. "yeah, he is."

"i think of you as my friend anyways."

"you do?"

"yeah. i like you better than steve. we need more girls in this 'world saving' club."

robin nods, smirking at her. "you're a pretty cool kid mayfield."

"i know."

max hops off the counter, hesitating before she wraps her arms around robin for a quick hug. she makes her way back to the door, it chimes as it opens, "see ya later buck!"

robin shakes her head and smiles. and then she scoffs, "i am not that dinguses keeper." she moves to the tape cart, pushing it as she sorts the new movies, muttering, "steve is the least interesting part of my life, like i play clarinet. and i saved the fucking world! steve's keeper. huh! what a concept."

[blackhakumen]

Mini Fanfic #1141: Jitters & Fright (Epithet Erased)

4:23 p.m. at Sweet Jazz's Halloween Store........

Slylvie: (Walking in the Store Alongside his Friends) So, how do you girls feel about your big play for tomorrow night?

Phoenicia: (Happily Clasps her Hands Together as Her Eyes Begins to Sparkle) Oh I'm absolutely excited!~ It's been one of my list of dreams to play a leading acting role~

Molly: (Smiles Sheepishly) I'm a bit on the nervous side personally. But I'm happy to be a part of something at least.

Trixie: Happy for ya too, Molls. (Crosses Their Arms While Pouting) Me, on the other hand, would rather do a mountain of homework than taking the main stage........

Sylvie: (Turns to Trixie) Getting nervous??

Trixie: Nah. I wouldn't say I'm completely nervous per say. Just don't want millions of eyes staring at me all night....

Phoenicia: But it's the audience's job is to watch the actors perform until the end of the runtime.

Trixie: (Rolls Their Eyes) Fully aware of how the audience function, Feenie. (Starts Shivering a Bit) Doesn't make me squeamish any less.....

?????: Oh no!~ Little Miss Roughhouse getting cold feet?~

The gang turns to see two of the Neo Trio's classmates, Stink & Stonk, standing in front of them, with mischievous, boyish grins on both of their faces.

Stonk: Cuz if so, we're more than gladly to take the role of Bubblegum Renegade off your hands now.

Stink: Yeah!- Wait. (Turns to Stonk) "We"?

Stonk: Yeah. You know, as in....You and I and-

Stink: I know what I mean, you dope!! We can't both be the Bubblegum Renegade!

Stonk: Right, right. (Grabs his Chin) So I'm guessing that'll make me Bubblegum Renegade then?

Stink: Um NO, dude! You're not gonna be Bubblegum Renegade! I am!

Stonk: (Glares at his Friend) And why not? My acting skills gotten a lot better, you know!?

Stink: So does mines. Only the difference here is that FAR more cooler than you in comparison.

Stonk: ('Scoffs') Yeah right! Name one cool thing you ever did.

Stink: I....uh.....uhhh.....I-I come up with the raddest pranks imaginable!

Stonk: We BOTH come up with the rad prank ideas, genius! In fact, I seemed to remember doing most of the heavy lifting and dirty work compared to you.

Stink: ('Scoffs') Oh please! I equally did just as much work as you did if not wayyy more!

Stonk: Nuh-uh!

Stink: Yeah-huh!

Stonk: Nuh-uh!

Stink: Yeah-huh!

The boys continue to argue with one another as the others reluctantly watches.

Sylvie: .....Do I even wanna who those two are right now?

Molly: ('Sigh') That's just Stink and Stonk.

Trixie: (Already Has an Annoyed Look on Their Face) The two biggest lame brains in our class with their stupid pranks they're trying to pull.

Phoenicia: And dance choreography are a sight to behold.

Molly: Feenie, I don't think Dabbing's that good of a dance move to be frank with you.

Sylvie: I don't even think it should consider a dance move at all considering how basic the concept of it is.

Trixie: (Starts Groaning at What is in Front of Them Right Now) Speaking of which....

Trixie points to Stink amd Stonk repeatly dabbing at one another.

Molly: (Raises an Eyebrow in Confusion) Are they.... seriously having a dab off right now?

Trixie: (Facepalms Themselves into Oblivion) And here I thought they could never get anymore dumber......(Turns to Sylvie While Pointing Their Hands Out at the Dabbing Simpletons) You see what we have to deal with everyday, Sylvie!?

Sylvie: Somehow, I can weirdly re-

'BOOHAAAAA'

Sylvie: LATEHETE!!! (Gets Startled and Screamed in Horror as He Makes Himself Fall Backwards on the Floor)

Molly: Sylvie! (Quickly Rushes Over to Sylvie Side Along with the Rest of the Trio)

Jock: (Revealing Himself From the Monster Like Mask He Was Wearing With a Smirk on his Face) Oops! Didn't quite see you there Sylvesta-NERD! (Let's Out a Loud, Boastful Laugh as his Fellow Jockmates Joins amd Gives Him Multiple Hi-Fives)

Sylvie: (Growls in Annoyance as He Rubs his Head and Angrily Shakes his Fist at a Pact of Jocks in Front of Him) Don't you people have anywhere else to be right now!!!?

Jock: ('Scoffs') Of course we have somewhere to be, Einstein. We just wanna make sure if you got yourself a good scared.

Sylvie: Gee, thanks, Randall. I hate it!

Randell: Yeah, we don't care. Blame your psychologicist job for making you look more dorky than you already are.

Sylvie: At least I'm doing something more productive in my life than wasting my time messing with my neighbor all day!!

Randell: So you're a big shot now, big whoop! You're still a four-eyed nerdatron at the end of the day and still an easy target to boot. Now, if you'll excuse us, we have a football game to win. (Finally Takes his Leave)

Other Jocks: (Starts Following Their Leader While Taunting Sylvie in the Process) Later, nerd!/Enjoy the floor nap!/ Don't let the door scare ya on the way out, Sylvesta-LOSER!!

Phoenicia: (Growls as She Angrily Picks up a Bag of Marshmallow From the Counter) His name is Dr. Sylvester Ashling, you UNCULTURED SWAN!!! (Throws the Bag at the Jocks as Hard as She Could......Which Didn't Go as Far as She Hoped Unfortunately)

Molly: (Helps Sylvie Back Up on his Feet) You okay, Sylvie?

Sylvie: ('Sigh') Besides my pride and patience, I'll be fine for now. (Turns to Phoenicia With a Small Smile on his Face) I appericate you trying to get those jerks back for me, Feenie, even if you REALLY didn't have to-ACK! (Gets Pulled into Tight, Loving Hug by Phoenicia Herself)

Phoenicia: There's no need to thank me at all, dear!~ I'd do anything for those I love and cherish, you included!~

Sylvie: (Winces a Bit) I see. Glad to be part of the equation....

Trixie: Say the word, Sylvie. (Starts Pounding Their Fist onto the Palm of Their Hands) And we'll get 'em back when they least expected!

?????: Least expected, huh?~

The gang turns to see Stink & Stonk staring at them with their signature mischievous grins.

Molly: Oh. You guys are finished with your dabbing contest already?

Stink: Yep! Came down with a draw for now!

Stonk: It was epic.

Trixie: (Rolls Their Eyes) Suuuure it was.....

Stink/Stonk: (Glares at Trixie) IT WAS SO!- (Clears Their Throats Before Calming Themselves Down)

Stink: Anywho, after we concluded our epic dabbing challenge, we couldn't help but overheard your little bully dilemma you got there, four eyes.

Sylvie: It's Sylvie. ('Sighs Heavily') But yeah.....You don't know the half of it......

Stonk: Which is why we want in on your vengeance journey.

Trixie: Wait. You....actually want to help us out on this?

Stonk: Heck yeah! We don't just do pranks for funs, we also do them to get back at those who bully and/or prank us first.

Stink: Buuuuuuuuut before we start helping you guys out, we're gonna want something back in return~

Sylvie: (Sighs Once More as Takes his Wallet Out of his Pants Pocket) Alright. How much do you want? I need to save rest of the money pay my rent this month, so I implore you not to ask for too-

Stonk: (Starts Pushing his Hands Back and Forth in the Air) Woah woah woah there, pal. We don't want any of your money!

Stink: We want something more valuable than that.

Sylvie: (Raises an Eyebrow) Which is.......

Stonk: (Uses his Thumb to Rub Up and Down on the Knuckles) Oh it's nothing too grand~

Stink: We just want to have ourselves play the role of the......

Stink/Stonk: Bubblegum Renegade-

Neo Trio: No!

Trixie: It's never going to happen!

Molly: Each of our roles have already been finalized days. Let it go already!

Stink: (Crosses his Arm While Pouting) Alright, alright, fine! We're gonna!

Stonk: (Shrugs at Stink) Can't say we tried, man.

Stink: ('Sighs in Defeat') Yeah.....Okay. How about uhh....uhhh.....(Points at Sylvie) You buy us bugs of candy!

Stonk: Ten bags tops!

Sylvie: (Eyes Widened in Complete Shock) Ten!? Why not just one?

Stink: I dunno. It's the only offer we could think of right now.

Stonk: Either way, we're not gonna reach an negotiation empty handed.

Sylvie: How about I buy you two chocolate bars instead?

Stink: (Snaps his Finger ar Sylvie) Buy us each large size and you got yourself a deal!

Stonk: (Pulls his Hand Out) And we shake on it too!

Sylvie: (About to Shake Stonk's Hand) Fine by- ('Buzz') ME! (Felt Suddenly Shock on the Palm of his Hand Before Quickly Backing it Away)

Stonk: (Let's Out an Awkward Chuckle) Sorry. Forget I have a buzzer attached to my hand. (Pulls Out Another Hand) Here you go. Buzzer free this time.

Sylvie let's out a groan before reluctantly shaking Stonk's other hand, reach the agreement completely.

@aprilbrowines

@epitheterasedunofficial

[beetlemeowmeow]

End of Summer Sparkler pt.1

A sewing-talent fairy needs help getting materials for a surprise gift for her celebration-planning talent friend as the End of Summer Sparkler approaches, and enlists in the help of friends to get it done!

(art by yours truly, feel free to follow my progress on my art account @/beetlemeow on instagram!)

The cool crisp air signaling summer’s conclusion meant many things had to be done by the fairies of Pixie Hollow: the leaf talent fairies were almost at their busiest painting vibrant autumnal shades onto each leaf blade, the harvest talent fairies were reaping the bountiful rewards of the hard work of their garden talent counterparts, and the light talent fairies were in the final stretch of capturing and storing precious summer rays to keep the Home Tree illuminated during the impending shorter days. But perhaps the most stressed of all was Queen Clarion’s event planning fairy.

Pinwhistle opened the door to find her friend’s nose shoved into her leaf-bound planner. Soireen, still scribbling away and without even looking up, quickly asked, “Are the leaf lanterns projected to be finished on time?”

“Nice to see you too, Soireen.” Pinwhistle jokingly started to close the door.

“Of course they are, because you’re on top of it! And Queen Clarion’s dress, your team is still on top of that, yes?” Soireen, still without looking, put her shoe in the doorframe to stop the giant blue button from shutting her out. 

“Taylor and Johin are working on it with some assistants, so don’t worry. From what I’ve seen, it’s going to be beautiful as always.” The sewing talent fairy opened the door fully this time, ushering her friend inside of the thread spool inspired abode. 

“Oh yes, I have no doubt about it! I’m sorry Pin, the End of Summer Sparkler gets harder and harder every season to make more fun and I just need it to be… close to perfect. It doesn’t help that this one really snuck up on me, it’s just not a very memorable season change.” Soireen sighed, taking a seat on one of the colorful flower-shaped cushions in her best friend’s living room. 

“Soireen! You’re the best event planning fairy there ever was! Things are all good from our end, I promise. You just worry about your end, and we’ll deliver.” Pinwhistle wrapped her friend into an embrace.

“I can always count on you. After the celebration, we should both unwind and get tea together again, just like before our schedules got crazy.” Soireen let a smile slip.

“What are you talking about? Our schedules have always been crazy. But I’m glad we keep making time for each other.” Pinwhistle laughed.

“You’re the best, Pin. Well, I have to check in with the baking team next, so I’ll see you at the Sparkler?” She hugged her friend before exiting the home.

“Wouldn’t miss one of your parties for the world. What are you wearing, so I can find you easier?”

“Oh, the same dress as last season change. The one you hate.” Soireen laughed over her shoulder, flying away. 

“You better not be! How many times have I told you that gray doesn’t capture the whimsy of your events?”

“At least we won’t match!” She called back, disappearing from sight.

______________________________________________________________

“Soireen deserves to have a dress that doesn’t wash her out, but she always turns me down when I offer to make her a new one!” Pinwhistle complained.

The other fairies hummed along in acknowledgement from their work stations. Queen Clarion’s dress stood at the head of the room, a shimmering golden draped fabric – the Queen’s signature color. Not quite finished, but the fresh component of goldenrod would be delivered from the garden fairies who were tasked with growing the flower specially for this dress. Johin, a sewing talent sparrowman, had a special eye for attaching unusual material to clothes, and this had been his design concept. He was out of the workshop at the moment to coordinate with the garden fairies, but he was a good coworker of Pinwhistle’s for their effective combination of Johin’s elaborate ideas and her ability to execute them quickly.

Even without the floral detail, the dress was beautiful on its own. As always. 

“Sorry, but who’s Soireen?” A newer sewing talent fairy, Lacey, asked.

“She runs the celebration planning for all of the Hollow’s biggest events with some of the other helper fairies. It’s definitely not easy.” Taylor chimed, checking their stitch work.

“I remember making the helper fairies event clothes more than a few seasons ago, but I think they’ve all eventually just gotten new ones to replace the black uniforms.” Taylor continued.

“Well, Soireen’s is gray the last I saw it.” 

“Then it was definitely more than a few seasons ago.” Taylor laughed.

“Why hasn’t she asked for a new one?” Lacey asked.

“She thinks she just doesn’t have the time or need to ask for a new one. She’s always got so much on her plate, but it’s more than that. I think she doesn’t want to cause any extra work for us too.” Pinwhistle sighed, finishing the stitching on the lantern and placing it in line with the others.

“That’s true, we do have a lot to finish up before the Sparkler. But Pinwhistle, I think you’re good on those lanterns. Look how many you made!” Taylor said. “You’re free to go since you finished up early, if you want.”

“What are you going to do?” Asked Lacey, who could not help the twinge of playful jealousy from escaping. 

“Some might call it ‘extra work’.” Pinwhistle thought aloud, a smile on her lips and creative thoughts swirling in her little fairy brain.

[a-pink-beau]

FFXIV Write 2024 #25 - Perpetuity

Summary: Ar'beunti and Urianger find a moment of calm.

Content Warnings: None

Spoilers: Endwalker

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Does thou wonder how many eyes look up at us, just as we look down at them?”

Beau cocks her head as she takes in Etheirys in all its beauty. The view from the moon is definitely one of a kind.

“Not that they could see us from up here,” Beau answers simply. Urianger smiles as he dips his head.

“Yes. That may be so, just as we too cannot make out a single soul from where we sit.” He looks back to the star. “Though it is no less true that they look this way regardless.”

The two sit upon a rock on the grey landscape, the rest of the scions elsewhere. It is cool, quiet, and solitary. “I can think of but one individual who would have quite enjoyed this view.” Beau looks up to Urianger, waiting for him to finish his thought. There is a smile on his face, but melancholy in his eyes. Beau looks at her hands, she knows who he is talking about now.

“Yeah…” It's all Beau can muster.

“She gave her life for us. Would she know how far we have travelled in her wake.” Urianger looks to Beau, seeing her lost in her thoughts, her guard all but down. “You miss her still. Just as I do.” Beau lets out a sigh.

“Does that feeling ever go away? I knew her a fraction of the time you did, I can't imagine how it feels for you.” Urianger smiles, appreciative of getting to witness this softer side of Ar'beunti.

“The feeling has made its roots in our hearts, but we can shape that of how it may grow. Be it weed or beautiful blossom.” Beau gives a look to Urianger, as if to nudge him that she sees that he is deflecting. “I believe it less us having a disparity of time with her, and more you may have taken to her more than I.” Beau raises an eyebrow. Urianger does not pick up on or, at the very least, does not acknowledge Beau's confused face.

“But yes, she was a dear friend. The pain of her absence is unmistakable. But thy company when thou has wished to talk of her memory time and time again has given me the joy required to overcome the grief.”

“You're saying I helped you feel better?”

“Aye. Thy allowed me to mourn. Like a gardener tending to her plot. You, my friend, raised this seed in mine heart into a rose; more flower than thorn.”

Beau looks back to Etheirys with a scoff.

“Here I thought I was just being selfish.”

“Self-indulgence is natural when one is suffering loss, but that does not mean it cannot be without benefit to others.”

There is a silence between them for a time. They continue to sit side-by-side, watching the star rotate before them in the distance.

“So this feeling really won't go away then?”

“Nay. No more than her influence on this star and others that we've touched.”

“Her influence?”

“Aye. She gifted us the power to defeat the Ascians and that paved the road to where we sit now. All that we scions do. All that the Warriors of Light accomplish. It is made possible by her sacrifice. She lives on in us. She lives on in what we have done.” Urianger looks, once more, back to Beau. “She lives on in all that we will do.”

“Then if we stop the Final Days…?”

“-She will live on for all of eternity.”

Beau blows some air out of her mouth as she tries to wrap her mind around the concept of eternity.

The two return to sitting in silence, as they have done many times before, and will continue to do from time to time in the future. For as long as they are able.

[princesscolumbia]

Double Isekai, Ch. 2

Yes, I've posted a preview for ch. 1 after I got ch. 3 up and posted, but I figure it can't hurt to post more previews, so 1 preview post per day until I hit the currently posted number of chapters:

Summary:

Dreams give loved ones a chance to say hello...and goodbye. A chance meeting at a mall requires some fast thinking.

Preview of Ch. 2 below the fold:

Startled more than hurt, the redhead scrambled back and clapped her hands over her nose. "Oh, you sonova..." she growled.

"It's 'bitch,' thank you, I left the 'son of a' part behind years ago."

"Yeah, 'cause you were too pussy to handle bein' a man!"

She rolled her eyes, "Oh, for cryin'...I get you're still in high school, but you got access to my entire life! At least come up with better insults!"

Ranma dropped her hands back down to her sides and glared, "What right do you have tellin' my ma I aint a man?!"

She gave Ranma a flat stare, "Ranma, we're in our own fuckin' dreamscape and you're a girl right now!" Ranma looked down at herself as though the self-examination would change her gender presentation. "Maybe tell me you're a man when you're not sporting stonking huge tits and a vagina on the personification of your inner self."

"This is just the curse!" tried Ranma.

"Nope, we both know that aint true. Your girl-form is the spitting image of your mother, just...you know, smaller."

"Hey!"

"You know, like a compact car."

"Why you...!"

"Pocket sized."

"Fucking...cross dresser!"

She shut her mouth so hard her teeth clacked as Ranma's insult hit home. The muscles in her cheeks flexed repeatedly as she worked to control her anger.

Ranma took the opportunity to growl, "My pops raised me to be a man! That's my destiny, not that you'd get that! You just gave up!"

"Of course I gave up! I stopped tryin' to be a man 'cause I wasn't one and I was just...tired." The heat in her voice cooled significantly and she sagged against the tree she'd been slammed up against, "You're sixteen years old, Ranma. You've been dealing with the dysphoria for, what, five years? Maybe 10 if you gained enough awareness that young to understand gender like that? Then you get the girl body you really want, the one you were supposed to have and you're fighting it!" She sagged down further, finally sitting on the ground at the base of the tree. "I had been fighting it for so...long. Gods, it hurts to even think about," she felt her eyes pooling with tears, "I made charts and graphs and little how-to manuals for myself and every time something came along that was 'how men are supposed to be' I studied it like I was going pro at it and every...damn...time it always failed to make me feel like a man inside."

Ranma had a haunted look as she heard the description of a life lived in dysphoria. "I aint..."

"Ranma, shut the fuck up. You know what I know. You know what I felt like and I can feel it in your memories, too!" She sighed and scrubbed at her face. "Listen, if I could leave, I would. You can guess I'm rather eager to get back to my daughter and girlfriend. But I can't, Ranma! We're stuck, we're officially Tuvix'd. Pretty much only a Q or God could split us at this point, and we're in the wrong universe for Q to notice and God's a fucking sonovabitch who I will happily punch in the goddamn face and he knows it."

Ranma just glared at her for a moment, then ground out, "I will beat you, whatever it takes!"

She thumped her head against the tree, "Ranma, there's nothing to beat! It's already over. I'm you, you're me. The only thing left is for our memories to finish merging."

"So, what, you're gonna eat me from the inside like some reverse lyctor?"

"It's already done, Ranma! 'You' and 'I' are just concepts! The fact that you know what a lyctor is in this context should be proof enough for you!"

"Of course I know what a lyctor is! They're..." she paused, disturbed shock spreading over her face.

"Yeah, see? You're getting it now. I know about lyctors as a concept where a necromancer 'eats' a cavalier at the soul level to gain eternal life because I read about it in Gideon the Ninth. That book won't be published, if it's published in this universe, until the late 2010s. The property its inspired by isn't even going to be made for 20-30 years. You only know that because I know that."

Ranma dropped to the ground, landing on her butt with a muted thump. "...but..."

"I know."

"I didn't..." complained the redhead.

She sighed, sadness and sympathy in her expression, "I know."

"You can't just..."

"I didn't, Ranma. That's the nature of the isekai. It's not a grand scheme or a destiny or a plan, it just happens." She shrugged, "I mean, now that it's happened to me I've got more theories, but it all boils down to the most ridiculous dice roll ever. The odds are literally infinity upon infinity upon infinity to one...but because the dice get rolled an infinite number of times, that 'one' shows up an infinite number of times." She gestured expansively at the sky, which was a hazy suggestion of a starscape, "Out there in the multiverse, someone is being disintegrated spontaneously and reappearing in a dungeon in a fantasy reality. Somewhere a dwarf is being crushed by a collapsing mine to wake up in modern day New York City. Some dumbass punk kid is going to bed perfectly secure that nothing strange will happen to him and wake up in charge of a Starfleet ship in a universe where the Federation was founded by Risa instead of Earth and it turns out he's the protag of a sci-fi harem doujin."

Ranma was practically curled up on herself by this point, tears streaming down her cheeks.

The older, more experienced girl watched Ranma collapse in on herself and her voice softened, "And somewhere, some divorced rando decided to turn off a freeway early because of a traffic alert on her phone and got t-boned by an out-of-control garbage truck."

Ranma's eyes popped open, fear and emotional pain radiating from them as she wordlessly pleaded for something she couldn't quite define.

"I'm dead, Ranma. Even if I could leave your body and soul to you again, I'd have nowhere to go. I've got a beef with God large enough to butcher and feed a large third-world country so my chances of getting into heaven are pretty fuckin' slim. I wasn't even sure there was a 'soul' to have an afterlife with until this happened."

They stared at each other in silence across the clearing, the dream world slowly shifting around them.

She broke the silence after a bit, "You know, you're startin' to look a lot like my sister did at your age."

Read the rest on AO3.

[yoongisugaagust]

HOME: The Confession

•Summary: Min Yoongi meets his forever.

The repetitive beat played out loud as Yoongi huffed. He sat at his studio desk with his head leaning against the chair completely exasperated. The sounds of his keypad being tinkered with brought him out of his haze.

“Hyung,” Namjoon stressed. “Your code doesn’t work all the time.”

“It works perfectly fine,” he spun himself around to see Namjoon walk in with Jin and Jungkook. Jungkook took a seat on the couch. “What’s happening?”

“Just got out of the meeting with PD Bang. He wants to put out a special collaboration LP between Cypher and Kosmos for the company’s anniversary. He already has a few songs in mind and the rest he wants us to write and produce on our way. I’m assigning you with Jin hyung so you two can bounce idea off each other. Hoseok is working closely with Jimin and Tae and I’ll be working with Jungkook.”

“We’re doing unit songs?”

“Two songs each group and three collaborative songs. We’re working in units for song concepts. I want you two to bounce idea off each other in the meantime. Write notes, whatever and bring it when we all meet.”

Yoongi nodded his head in confirmation swiveling from left to right in his chair. Seokjin made himself comfortable on the couch as Namjoon and Jungkook made their exit.

“You good?” Jin questioned.

“Yeah just a lot on my mind.”

“We can work on this back at home if that’s what you pref-”

“Y/n said something last night. She was asleep when she said it but..I don’t know. I don’t know how I feel about it.”

“Do she call out the wrong name?”

“No!” Yoongi looked skeptically at his friend. “She said she wants to marry me. Just said it in her sleep.”

“What’s the issue with that? You’re obviously in love with her and I can tell you’ve been thinking of having a future with her. Shouldn’t you feel good that she seems to feel the same?”

“It’s just throwing me off. I don’t know why that is but. I don’t know. What if we’re in over our heads? We haven’t been together for long and now things with the group are about to get even busier than we ever have been.”

“Yeah no I definitely feel you’re over thinking it. Have you two talked about getting married before?”

“That’s the thing. We’ve never mentioned it so maybe we haven’t thought this through fully.”

Jin sighed pinching the bridge of his nose. “She loves you enough to want to marry you and you obviously wanted to marry her or at least you’ve been considering it.”

“We’re just assuming she wants to marry me. She never actually said the words consciously.”

“Nobody’s pinning you against the wall forcing you to make a decision. Y/nah is great and she loves you. Take some time to figure out what you really want and have that conversation with her. It isn’t that hard to use that brain of yours.”

————

“Hey,” Yoongi walked into your kitchen greeting you. You faced the stove mixing the contents of the pot.

“Here try this,” you said holding the wooden spoon to your lips blowing lightly to cool down the stew. Yoongi instinctively ate from the spoon.

“That’s really good jagi,” he said around the still hot bite.

“Better than last time?” You asked and he nodded. “I’m so happy!” You rejoiced at how much better you were getting at cooking new Korean dishes. Your best friend Jin was helping you out when it came to the fairly new recipes and you used Yoongi as your test subject.

“Your food is always good I don’t know why you’re always so worried,” he chuckled.

“Yeah my food is good but when it comes to the Korean dishes I want it to taste just as authentic as it should.”

“Well you have nothing to worry about,” he kissed your lips then ushered you off to sit down at the table while he served your plates.

“I wanted to ask you about something,” you brought up bringing Yoongi to stop mod chew. “Sara’s obviously moving out so I was thinking you can move in?”

“You want me to move in here?”

“Or we can move in to a new place altogether.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. I just thought since we already spend almost every night together that that would be the next natural step.” Seeing your eyes become glossy had him thinking twice.

“Okay uhh, yeah.”

“You hate the idea, don’t you? You don’t sound confident in the least. You can say no Yoongi.”

“I just want to make sure that you’re sure about this. It’s a big decision.”

In an effort to conceal the tears riding on the rim of your eyelid you sat up and took your plate over to the sink even though you were nowhere near finished eating. Not skipping a beat Yoongi approached your stilled form and prodded you to turn around. You took a moment to wipe away any tears that raced down your cheeks and turned around between Yoongi’s hands on the counter.

“Like I said before we spend maybe every other night together and I wouldn’t have brought it up unless I was certain this was what I wanted.” You looked away from his gaze. “You don’t want to and that’s okay but..” you paused for a fresh breath. “Don’t agree to it just to make me happy.”

“I wasn’t blindly agreeing to the idea.”

“We can come back to this discussion when you’re ready. For now maybe it’s better if you don’t stay over tonight.”

[beyondspaceandstars]

The Military Dog Tag Dilemma

Relationship: Stucky x Reader Warnings: N/A, just fluff Summary: You just want to wear the military tags of both your men but Steve seems to run into some issues. A/N: I am also always a sucker for Stucky writing ok and this was my first personal attempt at it and i thought it came out well <3

masterlist

Bucky gave you his dog togs within weeks of establishing your relationship with him and Steve.

You loved to mindlessly play with them as the three of you cuddled up in bed, enjoying some pillow talk after, particularly long days. Steve spooning you from behind as you laid on Bucky’s chest, his arm thrown around you, running his fingers through Steve’s hair. Your fingers would fumble with the shiny tags, turning them over in your hand, watching the minimal moonlight hit them every now and then.

You didn’t know what it was about the tags that had you so captivated nearly every night. It felt so simple yet so intimate as you stared at your lover’s name and information engraved in them. While you weren’t exactly an expert on wartime, you knew the tags could serve as gifts to partners, assuring your heart to one another. The concept definitely drifted through your mind from time to time, but you never brought it up.

Bucky, however, seemed to be thinking the same thing. Wordlessly, one night, he slipped off the silver chain, tags clinking together musically, and slid them over your head. The coolness of them tickled your neck as the tags fell to the valley between your breasts.

You didn’t know what to say. Your heart was pounding as you ran your fingers around the necklace. Even Steve seemed a little shocked by the actions. But Bucky was fully pleased as evident by the cocky grin he wore watching you ogle at the gift. He had to admit — knowing you were walking around with his name dangling from your neck did something for him.

"Where are your tags, Steve?" You had asked after placing a loving, appreciative kiss on Bucky’s lips. Now that you obtained Bucky’s tags, it only seemed fitting you wore Steve’s as well.

Steve shifted. You looked up at him only to find him watching the wall across from the bed, seemingly lost in thought. "I-I’m not really sure, honey."

You let out a sad hum at the response. "Well, if you find them, let me know," you yawned, shuffling down in the bed to get comfier. "I’d like both of my men close to me all the time."

Since then, Steve had been on a mission to find dog tags. Going through archives, chain of custody notes, discarded boxes… Everything. There was just something about the entire thing that was driving Steve mad. He was honored you wanted to show off the claim your two lovers had on you but he was also deeply concerned about the fact that currently you only had Bucky’s to wear.

While Steve wouldn’t exactly call himself jealous in this situation, knowing you didn’t love him any less, the relationship was established the way it was and he felt you should still have something of his to truly show for it.

This led Steve on what felt like a manhunt for the "damn dog tags," as he kept referring to them when Bucky would check-in asking if all was okay. Nothing was really okay. He had looked high and low for them, going through every potential record in the database trying to at least confirm there was something to even look for.

He pounded his fist against the desk late one night. Steve had pushed you and Bucky to get some sleep, claiming he had some reports to look over before bed. You two had looked at him suspiciously but eventually agreed, planting loving kisses on his cheeks, and telling him not to stay up too late.

"I get cold without both of you there," you had mumbled with a sleepy yawn following. Your words almost made Steve give up for the night but then he caught a glimpse of the silver chain on your neck. Seeing you like that, using your tired, loving voice, he remembered what he was doing this for. It was you. It was all about you and your love for sentimental things.

He grudgingly agreed to be there in an hour and that seemed to please his two lovers. Except — it was way past an hour. The sky was close to daybreak when he hit the desk in frustration.

Pushing the folders away, Steve leaned back in the chair, sighing. Within seconds, footsteps came from the hall and Bucky appeared in the doorway, watching a frustrated Steve.

"Everything okay in here?" Bucky asked, leaning against the door frame.

"Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine," Steve nodded. "Go back to bed, I’ll be there in a bit."

But Bucky didn’t look the slightest bit convinced. He had a knowing look in his eyes which Steve tried to avoid by looking down at the now splintered desk.

"How are those reports going?"

Steve rolled his eyes, letting out an annoyed groan. Deep down he knew he couldn’t hide anything from Bucky but still, worth a shot.

He pushed all the folders away this time, leaving them at the very edge of the desk. "I did have dog tags, right?"

"That’s still bothering you, huh?" Bucky crossed the threshold into the office and made his way to one of the chairs in front of Steve’s desk. He took one of the folders and sat directly across from Steve. Casually, he thumbed through it, waiting for his partner to start talking.

Steve didn’t really want to get into it again as he had probably hounded Bucky about it all last week but acting like it wasn’t bothering him was getting him nowhere — obviously.

"Yes," Steve sighed. "I just want her to have something from each of us. It’s- It’s hard watching our girl…"

Bucky frowned, "I’m sorry, Steve. I should’ve waited to give them to her."

"No, Buck," Steve leaned forward, reaching his hand out. Bucky took the signal and leaned, placing his own hand in Steve’s. "You wanted her to have them. That’s your call. I just feel disappointed I have nothing to give."

"Well…" Bucky hummed, tilting his head in thought. Steve’s eyes furrowed, trying to get his partner to spit out whatever he was thinking. "What if we ordered you new ones?"

"Can you do that?"

"I honestly don’t know," Bucky chuckled. "But I don’t understand half of what you can do these days, so, I’d imagine there’s a way to get dog tags made."

Steve sighed, leaning back in his chair, disconnecting their touch. It seemed reasonable and would do the job except for the fact— "But they wouldn’t be in combat or- or from the actual military."

Bucky just shook his head. With an annoyed scoff, he said, "Do you think that really matters to her?"

"I guess not…"

"Steve, honey, I promise. It’s about the presentation, the show of it. Our girl is just looking for something personal from you to keep close to her," Bucky assured him. "Plus, I think we can get it updated and personalized. Maybe even write something nice just for her on the back."

Steve had to admit, his heart was jumping happily at the idea. He really couldn’t argue with anything and agreed to the plan. The only issue was — they were a bit out of touch with ordering anything online. You had always been the one to assure online packages and food deliveries arrived but now they had to take you out of the equation. While excited to surprise you, they were slightly unsure about ordering and had to enlist the help of the team who all turned out to be more than happy to assist once they explained their idea.

A few weeks later, you were laying in your shared bed, back against the headboard, body cozied up under the duvet. You were engrossed in a cheesy romance novel, waiting for Steve and Bucky to join you for the night. Eventually, the two came in, but they were still in their work attire.

You frowned at their appearance. "Aren’t you guys coming to bed?"

As you asked your question, you couldn’t help but note their unusual stance. The two men were side-by-side, standing at the foot of the bed, looking down at you. Bucky had his hands in his pockets while Steve appeared to be hiding something behind his back. You eyed them suspiciously.

"We will in a bit, doll," Bucky said. You watched him as he came around to the side of the bed. He sat down and leaned against the headboard, shifting right next to you, sneakily taking the book out of your grip. "But first, Steve has something for you."

"For- For me?" You asked, whipping your head around to face Steve. He had a bit of nervousness to him as he nodded, making his way over to the bed and sitting on the edge.

Silently, he handed you a small box. You eagerly accepted the item, turning it over and over in your hands. Giving it a light shake, the box made a jangling noise. "What is it?" You asked, wide-eyed looking between the two men.

Steve and Bucky both let out soft chuckles at your excitement. "You have to open it to find out," Steve said. He still had an air of anxiousness, running his hands up and down his jean-covered thighs, fidgeting.

To put your poor boyfriend out of his misery, you opened the box. At first, all you noticed was something slim and shiny. Eyes furrowed in confusion, you pulled out what appeared to be a chain. You could feel a slight heaviness to it — and then you saw it. Your jaw dropped as you tossed the box next to you. In your hands was another set of dog tags nearly identical to the ones you already had adorned on your neck — only this pair were inscribed with the name Steven Grant Rogers.

"Steve-," you gasped, staring at the tags laying in the palm of your hands. You were at a loss for words as you read the tag.

"Are- Are they okay?" Steve asked, his nervous hand came up to rest on your thigh, pulling your attention back to him.

"Are you kidding me?" You let out a breathy laugh. "They’re wonderful, honey, thank you so much."

"You’re sure?" He asked again. Bucky gave him a pointed look for his ridiculousness but that didn’t stop Steve from rambling. "I-I couldn’t find mine so, I got a new pair made. I know they’re maybe not as authentic or something but I still wanted-,"

"You had these made?" You cut in. "For me?"

Steve nodded, "You had Bucky’s, so, it was only fair you had something of mine, too."

You couldn’t hold your emotions back at his word. Tears began forming as you looked at your soft, loving partner. You let out little sniffles as you turned back to the tags, still soaking in their meaning. Bucky placed a light touch on your arm as Steve scooted closer, probably suddenly scared by your tears.

"They’re perfect, honey," you whispered as you looked back at him and leaned forward, placing a sweet kiss on Steve’s lips. He eagerly accepted, practically sighing from relief under your touch. "They’re going to go perfect with the tags from my other man." You mumbled and turned to now give Bucky a kiss, who felt very pleased to get a turn to lock lips with you.

Facing Steve again, you handed him the chain. He looked down at it, confused.

"Well, soldier, are you going to put them on me?"

Both of the men chuckled at your actions but Steve happily slid the silver chain over your neck, watching as the tags fell to your chest. Once they landed, they clang nicely with Bucky’s. It sounded like music to your ears.

"I love you both so much," you said, your hand mindlessly running over the pair of tags. "Thank you."

"We love you too, doll," Bucky said. Steve nodded in agreement.

Smiling, you gave them both quick pecks and said, "Now, are you guys coming to bed?"

Bucky scoffed, "How could we ever deny you?"

You giggled. "I don’t think you can seeing as last time I checked I was a special girl."

At your words, both their gazes dropped once again to the tags hanging between your breasts, seeming so at place there.

"You sure are, honey," Steve mumbled, placing a kiss on your cheek.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

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[thewritetofreespeech]

Obey Me + Jealousy

prompt: The Demon Brothers don’t like that you’re spending time with your best friend in the human world. Loosely based off this prompt done previously.

Lucifer

It had been a long time since you had been up to the human world. Even longer since you had seen your best friend. You were so excited to see them! Laughing. Telling old inside stories. Catching up on gossip.

Although you were having a great time in the human world, your escort for the day did not seem to be enjoying all your world had to offer.

In order to get ‘top side’ Lucifer had to come with you. He was the only one able to open the portal there and back, and insisted on coming with you to keep you safe. You felt the need to remind him that the Devildom was the actual dangerous place, but it would take longer than just letting him come.

Now you kind of wish you had taken the time to argue. He was really being a major downer the whole day.

“Are you ok? You seem irritated.” Or, well, more irritated than usual.

“No. I’m fine.” Lucifer replied. Although not lending any credibility to the statement. “I’m just thinking of all the more useful things I could be doing with my time.”

You frown at his flip comment. “If you don’t want to be here, then you can leave. No one is making you stay here.”

“Fine. Since you seem so entertained by your little friend to pay any attention to me, perhaps it is best if I do head home.”

You blink a little at Lucifer’s statement. It was cold, and once again flip, as usual. But you were surprised he mentioned your friend. “Lucifer, are you jealous I’m spending time with them?”

The demon rebuttaled with a surprised look before he frowned at you. “I am not jealous.”

“Really? Cause it seems like your-“I am not jealous!” He repeated, louder and sterner this time. He let that moment linger there before he sighed and looked away with his arms cross. “I am….perhaps irritated to be ignored.”

‘Right, so, totally jealous.’ You think to yourself. But have the good sense to keep that thought to yourself alone. You suppose you could see where he was coming from. It’s hard to be the odd man out when you and your friends get together. Being so proud and prominent in the demon world, this is probably the first time it had happened to Lucifer.

“I’m sorry if you’re feeling left out. I’ll try to be more inclusive.”

“No. You’re right.” Lucifer remarked. Finally looking back at you with a much softer expression. “It’s foolish of me to think I can take all of your time. You deserve some moments of your own. I shouldn’t have intruded.” His hand reached out to cup your cheek, while offering you the faintest of smiles. “I will leave, but not because I’m angry. I want you to spend time with your friend and enjoy it, which would be best when I’m not around. Just call me when you’re ready to come home and I’ll come fetch you.” He released your cheek and took a step back. Smiling at you again before he disappeared.

You wonder, briefly, if he could feel your heart swelling with pride after you left. To think a small human like you could make the great Lucifer jealous.

Mammon

There were a lot of things you loved about Mammon.

His spontaneity. His zest for life. How nothing ever seemed to get him down for too long.

However, it was hard to remember all those good qualities when he was behaving so poorly all day.

“Mammon! Can you knock it off?!”

“What?! I’m just standing here. I’m not good enough at standing here for ya now!” The demon barked back. Not matching your whisper tone at all.

“That’s not what I said, and you know it. You’ve been a jerk all day and I’d like you to cut it out.”

“Oh, so now I’m a jerk! Well sorry sweetheart but I’m a demon. We’re not ‘upposed to be nice and friendly all the time. Sometimes we get ta be jerks!”

“Good lord, say it a little bit louder Mammon!” You hiss back at him letting practically the whole world, or at least this park, know he was a demon.

Mammon tsked his teeth and turned away from you. “Can’t do anything right.” He muttered. “Why don’t you go hang out with your friend then, if I’m such a jerk? You two seem ta be having a grand ol’ time on your own with me here. Shouldn’t make much of a difference if I’m gone.” He said before crossing his arms in a huff.

“Is that what this is about?” You ask. Ignoring his little out burst (because when he gets this way it’s just best to ignore him). “You’re mad that I’m spending time with my friend and not you?”

“No!” Yes. Totally yes.

“Mammon are you jealous?”

The demon floundered comically at the question, his mouth opening & closing like a fish as he tried to find words, before he answered. “I am not jealous!!” Great come back. “The Great Mammon does not get jealous! Ya hear! I’m just pissed because you’re spending all this time with them when I’m the one who schlepped all the way up here for ya, and used my connections to get us top side!” He turned away again and recrossed his arms. Then he muttered under his breath, “it was just supposed to be you and me today, for once.”

A sigh left you lips, and you step closer to Mammon to place your hand on his arm. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to ruin your plans. I was just excited to see my friend. It’s been so long. Plus I wanted you to meet them so I can show you off. You are my first after all.”

Those blue gold eyes got a little wide, and Mammon blushed, before he gulped once and refocused himself. “Y-Y-Yeah! Of course. Ya should be proud to show me off. It’s not everyone who gets to be seen with an all-powerful demon like me. If anyone is ‘jealous’ it should be everyone else for not having the Great Mammon by their side!”

“Of course,” you agree with a giggle. Before you lean up and give him a kiss on the cheek. “I’m lucky to have you.”

“D-Don’t ya forget it!”

Levi

“Hey, [Y/N]-chan, I think I’m gonna head home.”

You look up from your soda at Levi, who was fidgeting beside you after he spoke. “What? Why? I thought you were having fun.”

“Yeah, no. No I mean….you seem like your having fun with your friend so I don’t want to bother you. 3 is a crowd.”

“Levi, that’s not true. You’re not bothering us. I just wanted to spend sometime with my bff while we’re in town.”

“No. I get it. Who would want to hang out with a crummy otaku like me.”

“Levi, that’s not what I said. I do want to hang out with you!”

“But you have your normie friend.” Levi looked past you at the friend in question. “Look at them. Being out, talking to people like a regular person. I can never do that. You should go on without me and leave me here. You seem much happier with them anyway.”

“Levi…come on. That isn’t—” Your train of thought stops itself as it came to a sudden, and abrupt realization. “Levi, are you jealous?”

The blue haired demon responded with his trademark ‘eehhh??’ at the question, and quickly covered his face with is arm. “O-O-Of course not!” He exclaimed. Barely hiding the blush on his cheeks. “Who would be jealous of a normie?? I just I…I mean you…Y-You seem so happy with them [Y/N]-chan. A sad otaku like me can never make you that happy. So it’s just bumming me out!”

You offer Levi a soft smile, then move to squat down in front of him. “True. I am happy when I hang out with my friends. But I’m happy when I hang out with you too. No one can gush about anime with me like you can.” You reassure him. He was the Avatar of Envy after all. What did you expect?

The demon slowly poked his head out from under his arm. “Really?”

“Of course. It’s…not really a side of myself I get to show to people. They think I’m weird. But with you, I can be that part of myself. That’s the part that you have Levi.”

His face turned bright red all over again, and Levi sat there for a moment before he quickly shook his head. “D-Don’t say stuff like that [Y/N]-chan! Don’t make me fall for your normie trap!”

You giggle and stand up again to offer Levi your hand. “Come on. Lets find something we can all do together. The Cineplex is playing some old action movies we can go and make fun of.”

“Oooo! Which ones??”

The distraction of old movies to riff on, and for Levi to share all his in-depth knowledge on, was a welcome alternative for the afternoon. He even had a spirited debate with your best friend on the concepts of CGI graphics vs old school ‘cut & paste’ cinematography. Crisis on planet Earth avoided.

Satan

It was always fun to come back to the human world. Especially with Satan.

Not that you didn’t enjoy spending time with the others, but most of them could be a little....energetic. It was nice to spend a calm afternoon with the 4th brother alone for a change.

You both had stopped in a local coffee shop you loved when you ran into an old friend. You hadn't seen them in so long that you got to talking and eventually invited them to join your table. Where you had been laughing and having a grand time for a while now.

Or so you thought.

Satan hadn’t said a word the whole time you were at the table. Which was necessarily odd. He wasn’t a big talker like some of his brothers. However, you could tell that something was wrong with the way he kept stirring his cup, or how his jaw clenched ever now and then before releasing. His movements subtle, as always.

“I’m gonna get another cup. You want anything?” Your friend asked as they got up from the table, to which both of you motioned no.

“Can we go now.” Your head turned back to Satan at his cool words. “We were supposed to go to the bookstore.”

“We still have time to go to the bookstore.” You tell him. “It doesn’t close until a while from now.”

“Yes. But we agreed to be there at 1:00, and now it’s 1:30. That’s not the way this day was supposed to go.” The blonde replied. Fidgeting with his cup to try and align it perfectly on the saucer. “This day was supposed to be just you and I.”

You blink a little at Satan’s response. Initially thinking that he was miffed about the time. Now, however, you weren’t so sure. “Satan, are you jealous that I paused our date to hang out with my friend?”

The demon sat up straighter; though how you could be sure. Then he frowned. “I am not jealous.”

“No. I get it. It’s hard to be in a group if they have a lot of inside jokes. It’s ok if--“I am not jealous!” He shout. His fist slamming on the table, rattling the frail wood and cups. Alerting everyone in the shop to your conversation.

Satan hissed through his teeth and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Alright. Fine. I am jealous. We so rarely get time away from those idiots, and I was really looking forward to the bookstore with you. Now you have someone else tagging along. Is it so awful to be alone with me?”

Your heart sank a little at that. Was that really how Satan felt? “I’m sorry. That wasn’t my intention. I just wanted to catch up with my friend for a bit since I haven’t seen them in a while. I didn’t mean to disrupt our date.” The demon blinked a few times at the word ‘date’ then blushed. Muttering about how it wasn’t like that, that he was being unreasonable, that it was all fine. Still, you smile and offer to him, “let me tell them goodbye and we’ll go to the bookstore. If we leave now, we can also stop by the pet store and play with the cats if you’d like.”

Satan fidgeted in his chair. Cheek’s still a stark pink against his blonde hair. “I....would like that.”

Asmo

It was a beautiful day in the human world, and you were so excited to be home.

Being able to spend the day in your home town, with your best friend, shopping and just playing around was the best way to spend an afternoon. Who could be sad at a day like this?

“[Y/NNNNNNNN],” Asmo whined. The usually bubbly demon dragging his shopping bags behind him as he pouted behind you. “Can’t we stop for now”

“Really Asmo? You’re usually much more of a marathon shopper.”

“It’s too hot.” He quipped back. Now with more of a frown than a pout. “This humidity is wreaking havoc on my hair.”

“Why don’t I get us something cool to drink?” Your BFF suggested. Trying to stay positive all afternoon, and pretending that they didn’t hear Asmo’s bitter ‘yeah why don’t you do that’ as they took off and he sat down.

“Asmodeus,” you hiss when you were alone. “Who can you be so rude to them? What is wrong with you today?!”

“It’s not my fault!” Asmo snapped back. Looking wounded but also scratching at his chest where his pact mark was to let you know that he knew he messed up. “This was supposed to be a day for you and me! They’re the one that but in!”

“No. You did. I told you I was going top side for a while to hang out with my friend, and you invited yourself along. So now you’re ruining everyone’s day with this behavior. I really don’t get you.”

Asmo stopped scratching at his chest and pouted for real this time.

“I don’t like seeing you with them.” He confessed. “I don’t like seeing you with anyone. Your smile….it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. I wanted to come along with you today because I wanted to see your smile. But seeing you happy with someone else is the worst! I don’t even care about any of this anymore. Not even my new shoes.” His foot kicked at his bag sullenly. Asmo must really be upset. “I want to go home and forget all about the human world. I want you to come home with me!”

You listen for a while before you make a confession of your own. “You’re jealous, aren’t you.” It was plain as day now. Or at least now that you realized he wasn’t just being a brat to be a brat.

Asmo turned and glared at you slightly. “Green is not my color.” He insisted before turning away in a huff.

You chuckle, then sit down beside him on the bench. “I think you look good in any color.” You tell him. Softening the demon up. “You know I care about you Asmo. But me being with my friends doesn’t mean I care about you any less. And that’s no reason to be so ugly to them. You need to apologize.”

The demon winced at the word ‘ugly’, but did seem to agree that he needed to turn this around.

When your friend came back, he quickly apologized. Blaming jet lag, or some other ridiculous believable excuse. It didn’t really matter when he turned on the charm. Gods help him if he ever set his mind to something.

Beel

He was stress eating. You could tell.

Although Beel was still shoveling food into his mouth with his usual speed and gusto, by now you could tell the difference in his eating habits. Like when he was just bored and there was food around, or when he was really hungry for something, or when he was excited to try something new. Right now, he wasn’t enjoying what he was eating. Even when he was bored or just eating to eat, Beel always seemed to enjoy it. Even if it was just a vending machine’s worth of junk.

Right now it just looked like he was doing it to take his mind off something.

“Beel? Is something wrong?” You ask softly. Still getting his attention though, and causing him to stop.

“No. Nothing ’s wrong.” He replied. His voice unusually sullen as he wiped his mouth. You knew something was wrong now. He never sounded said when he was eating. Now something was double wrong because he was lying to you.

“Beel….”

“…I don’t like your friend…” He finally confessed after a moment and long bout of staring.

You blink in surprise at his answer. Not expecting that at all. You’ve never heard Beel say a mean word about anyone before. Let alone not liking a person. “You don’t like my friend? Why? Did they do something wrong?”

“It’s not that. I just….don’t like how you are when you’re with them.” He said. Picking at the various candy wrappers he’d left littered on the table. “You seem happy.”

“Of course I’m happy. They’re my friend. I haven’t seen them in a long time, so I miss them.”

Beel flinched a little. “I know….” He seemed to be feeling bad about this now. “And I want you to be happy. I know the human world is your first home. But I’m scared that….if you like it here so much and them, that you’ll leave us again. When you’re not around it’s like this big whole in my stomach and I can’t fill it up.” His stomach growled in protest, or agreement, at his words, and Beel went back to stress eating his vending machine contents again.

Your gaze softened as you finally understood. He was jealous. He thought your friend was going to ‘take you away’ and leave him alone. That of course was silly because you’d never leave him, or the others, ever if you could help it.

You reach out your hand to stop his arm from lifting another fist full of chips to his mouth. Causing him to pause, with his mouth open, and look at you. “All this junk can’t be good for you.” You announce as you stop up from the park table suddenly. “Why don’t I take you to my favorite restaurant in town? My friend used to work there, so I’m sure we’ll get a great table and lots of yummy stuff on the house if we go.”

Beel’s eyes sparkled at the proposition. “Really??”

You giggle. The way to a man’s heart was through his stomach you suppose. Because after this, and a few unlimited fry baskets later, he and your friend were besties for life as well.

Belphie

"[Y/N], I wanna go home."

"Home?" You ask. "But we just got here." You’d only arrived at the park to meet your friend a few hours ago, and had only just started hanging out.

"Well I'm tired.” Belphie muttered.

“Aren’t you always kind of tired?” You ask, as a joke, but it doesn’t seem well received.

Belphie’s frown deepens, and he even lets out an annoyed little growl, before he turns on his heels to walk away. “Belphie! Where are you going?”

“You nap under that tree.” He announced. But doesn’t seem as thrilled as he normally is about the prospect. Napping under trees was like his third favorite nap spot. “You won’t let me go home, so I’m just going to stay there while you hang out with your friend. You won’t miss me anyway.”

The last part of his statement was muttered under his breath, but you still heard it. Was that what he was being so moody about?

“Belphie? Are you jealous I’m hanging out with my friend?”

“Yes.” He replied. Rather quickly considering, with only a moment to scuff the tip of his shoes. “I don’t like that you’re spending time with them and not me. I don’t like being ignored.”

“I’m not ‘ignoring you’.” You tell him. “I’m just hanging out with my friend for a while. I haven’t seen them in a long time. They’ve probably been lonely too.”

Belphegor huffed again and sagged his shoulders. You know you got him.

Belphie might be kind of selfish sometimes, but there was one thing he could empathize with: being alone. He was cast aside and locked out, partially of his own doing, for a long time. So he didn’t want anyone else to feel that way.

“I just don’t like the idea that you like them better than me.”

“I don’t.” You assure him. Stepping in to give him a peck on the cheek, which he adorably flinches at. “I love you both. Differently, but equal. Why don’t we think of something we can all do together then, hm?”

“I’m kind of committed to this nap-tree-idea-thing.” The demon confessed. You have to giggle.

You all don’t nap, but your friend agree to get some ice creams from a vendor in the park and sit under the tree to enjoy them while Belphie napped. It was a remarkably pleasant afternoon. You were glad you got to share it with Belphie.

[parkersroses]

1:32 AM | harry styles.

summary: a series of moments in yours and Harry’s life together that seemed to occur around 1:32 AM.

pairing: harry styles x fem!reader

word count: 3.6k words

warning(s): nothing but fluff with a bit of husband!/dad!harry

a/n: (disclaimer: gif is not mine and belongs to @harryisart) hope y’all like this! i thought it was a cute concept. reblogs/feedbacks are very much appreciated <3

It was half past midnight.

You couldn’t sleep and it was practically driving you insane. You blame yourself for having a last minute coffee before bed. So stupid, you thought.

You tossed and turned in bed, drank some water, even tried counting sheeps; but to no avail, you could not get a wink of sleep. You sighed, thinking of ways to get yourself to sleep; you were lucky that tomorrow - well, today - was Saturday. 

You grabbed your phone from your nightstand, groaning as the bright light from the screen hurt your eyes. You scrolled through your contacts to find the number you were looking for. Harry.

You stared at the contact photo he personally set, your thumb hovering on the call button. You remembered the day you took the picture. It was the both of you lying on the hammock he had at his house. You were all cuddled up and he thought it would make a great picture. So, he snapped a few pictures, some of them which you both pretended to be asleep for the joke of it. 

You smiled at the memory but remembered why you wanted to call him. You hit the call button and waited for his response. 

You heard the line being picked up. “Hello?” you heard Harry say, his voice hoarse and deep from the sleep he had woken up to. 

“Hi, Harry,” you said softly, a sheepish grin on your face appeared. Harry chuckled on the phone. “‘Ello, love. Any reason you woke me up at nearly one in the morning?”

You buried your face in your pillow in embarrassment, grateful how he couldn’t see you right now. “Couldn’t sleep. Was wondering if you could help tired me out or somethin’,” you said sheepishly. 

Harry laughed at this. His girlfriend, his silly, lovely, and beautiful girlfriend, waking him up just to ask for sleeping advice. If he was being honest, he actually liked the fact that she called him. It gave him the excuse to go visit and cuddle with her. At this point, he should’ve just asked her to move in with him. 

“Hmm,” he hummed as he got up to grab a shirt and a pair of sweatpants.

“Hmm?” He heard you copied back. 

“I can think of ways to tire you out, love,” he said teasingly, and he could imagine the blush on your face. “Harry,” you whined, prolonging the ‘Y’. He chuckled at her. “What? I’m just saying I got a lot of options,” he said innocently as he grabbed the keys. 

Your eyebrows furrowed at the sound of keys being picked up. “Wait, what are you doing, H?” you asked as you sat up on the bed. “On my way to tire you out, love,” he said casually as he locked his door. 

“Harry, no. You don’t have to come over. Just stay at home, and I don’t know, talk me to sleep or something?” you said questionably. You didn’t actually think he would get up and walk out the door just to visit you because you couldn’t sleep. “Where’s the fun in not visiting my girlfriend in the middle of the night? Besides, I might stopped by somewhere to buy some snacks,”

“Harry, I don’t think-,” You’re cut off by the sound of his car starting.

“Sorry, love. Engine’s too loud. See you in a bit. Bye!” he said quickly, prolonging his ‘bye’ as he hung up. You stared at your phone in disbelief, scoffing at Harry’s childish behaviour as you put your phone on the nightstand. 

You might as well wait for your loving boyfriend to come help you sleep. 

“You know you didn’t have to come over,” you said as you sat by the island, watching Harry put away the bags of snacks he managed to buy. He scoffed in response. “And what kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t attend to my girlfriend’s call for help?” he said dramatically. 

He walked over and gave you a gentle kiss on the forehead as he hugged you. You sighed happily into his chest as you breathed in his faint cologne. “So, what are we going to do?” You asked, your voice muffled against his shirt. 

He unwrapped his arms and proceeded to pull you with him to your room. “We’re going to watch The Notebook because you tend to fall asleep halfway through the film, nearly every time,” he said sarcastically. You were about to object that statement but realised that he did have a point. “Hmm, fair point,” you said, sitting on your bed as he set up the movie. 

“Scoot over, bubs,” he said as he walked over to the other side of your bed. You cuddle on his side as the movie started to play. 

“Harry,” you said, looking up to his face. “Hmm?” he hummed as he looked at you. 

“I love you,” you said, feeling a little blush forming on your cheeks. It was the first time you said those words to him, nevertheless, you couldn’t be more sure of loving him. Harry smiled at you, his dimple making an appearance. “I love you, too,” he said, leaning down to give you a gentle kiss. 

And he was right. Nearly halfway through the movie, you already sound asleep. He paused the movie and switched off the television as he adjusted your position on the bed. 

It was 1:32 AM when you both fell asleep together. 

❊

You were sitting on the kitchen floor with Harry. Boxes of plates, cups and other kitchen appliances surrounded you. Some were filled with porcelain and China dishes that you might not even use and instead just put them on display.

You both finally did it. You finally moved in together. It did take a lot of Harry convincing you about it, but with his impossibly good way of charming you, you managed to give in. 

You found a moderate-sized house, nothing too big and fancy but nothing too small either. The thing that sold you the most was the amazing backyard, complete with a pool and large space for outdoor activities. It was perfect to the both of you. 

You were still in the process of putting everything in place. The bedroom was the first to get done, mainly because Harry was excited to make love to you as many times in your new home. It felt really good to call it that.

It was already late, nearly one. You were tired to say the least but you wanted to put things in their places as much as possible because you couldn’t stand to bump into another box. Harry let out a big yawn as he put away the last dishes of the current box. 

“Close your mouth, bubs,” you said, not looking up at him as you started to open another box. “Y/N, maybe we should take a break,” he said as he attempted to pull the box away from you. You pouted at him. “There’s still so many things to put away, though,” you whined a bit.

Harry chuckled as he cupped your face in his large hands, the coolness of his rings sending shivers up your spine. “And we can do them in the morning or the afternoon. We just moved here 3 days ago. We got time, there’s no rush,” he said softly. 

You sighed but you knew he was right. You were beginning to feel tired too and sleeping sounded heavenly at the moment. You glanced outside the glass sliding door and an idea popped into your head. 

“Hey, wanna go swimming?” you asked excitedly. Harry’s eyes widened at this and let out a small laugh. “Love, it’s nearly one. We should get some sleep, don’t ya think?” 

“Yeah, but I really wanna go swimming. In our pool,” you said and Harry knew he would never get tired of hearing that. Their pool, their bed, their couch; their home. 

He sighed, knowing he couldn’t just deny this innocent request of yours and smiled at you. “Fine, let’s go change,” he said. 

You smiled cheekily and stood up. “Who said anything about changing?” 

You quickly rushed out the back door, taking Harry by surprise as he hurried after you. You could imagine his shock as he saw you stripping out of your clothes, down into nothing. 

Fuck, he thought as he was entranced by your beautiful body. 

“Are you coming?” you called out to him and smirked as you jumped into the cool water. Harry broke out of his trance and quickly undressed so he could get in the pool with you. 

He quickly got in the pool and cursed as he was submerged into the freezing cold water. You giggled at him and swam gently towards him. “Feels nice, doesn’t it?” You smirked at your boyfriend. 

“Yeah, great! It’s not like my balls are freezing in ‘ere,” he said sarcastically. You hummed as you wrapped your arms around his neck, your legs around his hips. He was quick to hold you in place by your thighs. 

“You’re mean. Stripping off naked in front of me just to get me in this bloody pool. Mean, I tell ya,” he said as he pouted at you. You giggled at his silliness and pressed your forehead on his. 

“You love me, anyway,” you said teasingly. “Yeah, I might just reconsider that,” he said sarcastically, rolling his eyes at you. You gasped dramatically and began to pull away but he kept you stuck to him. “No, don’t go! You’re very warm, lovie,” he whined as he buried his face in your neck. 

“I do love you, darlin’” Harry said lovingly as he kissed the base of your neck, making you smile at the gesture. 

You both continued to swim around until you decided to get out of the freezing water before you turned pruny. You carefully made your way to your now shared bedroom, leaving a wet trail behind because you didn’t bother to bring out towels. 

It was 1:32 AM when you finally fell asleep in your shared bed; your shared home. 

❊

Harry slowly parked his car in the garage, shutting off the engine. He turned to you, smiling as he saw you sleeping in the passenger seat even though you insisted on staying up to keep him company.

You had gotten back from an event that Harry had attended. It was nice to feel the glitz and glam sometimes but even Harry would agree that it would become too tiring to handle. They ended staying back quite a bit until they realised how late it was and decided to go home then.

Harry gently shook your shoulder as he tried to wake you up. “Lovie, wake up. We’re home,” he said softly. You groaned a bit as you were disturbed from your slumber. Your mind was hazy and your vision was blurry as you looked around. 

You sighed and closed your eyes for a bit. “I fell asleep, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, felt a bit lonely actually,” Harry joked. You were always the one to think that you should be awake to keep him company as he drove, that and making sure he didn’t crash. 

You smiled sleepily at him, “Sorry, bubs.” You said, kissing his knuckles.

“No worries, darlin’. Let’s go to bed now, yea?” He said, already unbuckling his seatbelt, you doing the same. 

Your mind was still hazy from your sleep so Harry had to help guide you upstairs to make sure you didn’t trip and fall. You fell on your bed on your stomach, sighing into the soft comfortable mattress. Harry chuckled at this but knew if he didn’t help you out of your dress and clean off your makeup before bed, he’d be in big trouble.

“Lovie, c’mere. Gotta clean you up,” he said gently, slowly lifting you off the bed and guided you to the bathroom. You whined in exhaustion but followed him anyway. He began removing makeup gently and making sure you washed your hands and feet. Both of you were lucky to have showered earlier before leaving. 

You sometimes felt like Harry was too good for you. But you loved how it showed how much he loved to take care of you. The simple things he did truly warmed your heart.

“Can I wear your shirt?” You asked, sitting on the bed in just your underwear. Harry was already ahead of you by lending you his white shirt. “You forgot that I know you too well,” he smirked at you as you sheepishly put on his shirt. You’ve always had a habit of sleeping in his clothes so tonight was no surprise to him.

After putting on his sweatpants, he began to tuck you in bed. He gave you a gentle kiss on the forehead before pulling away. “No, come back,” you whined as you reached out for him.

Harry chuckled as he kissed your palm. “Just gonna get some water for us, lovie. Be back soon,” he said assuredly. When he came back, he turned off the lights and quickly got in beside you. 

You cuddled with Harry, burying your nose in his neck as you soaked in as much warmth as you could. “I love you, Harry,” you said with your eyes closed already. 

Harry’s eyes wandered on your features as you began to drift off to Dreamland. He brushed off the hair that was covering your face because he loved seeing your face before drifting off to sleep. Your head leaned in a bit to his palm that was resting on your cheek. 

Harry was truly in love with you, he realised that a long while ago. And he knew you felt the same. One year down into your relationship and he had never been more sure of spending the rest of his lifetime with you. 

He closed his eyes and sighed into his pillow. “Y/N,” he whispered in the dark. He heard you hummed in response. “Will you marry me?” He asked softly. He kept his eyes closed, feeling afraid of your answer.

Harry felt your hand on his cheek and he sighed at the feeling. “Harry, look at me,” he heard you whispered. He opened his eyes, seeing you looking at him with watery eyes. “Of course I will,” you said tearfully, smiling at him.

Harry let out a breath of relief. He leaned in to give you a kiss which you quickly gave in. Breaking away, he wiped off your tears that you didn’t realise were running down your cheeks. 

“Let me get your ring, yea?” Harry said happily as he got off the bed to search for the ring he bought for you weeks ago. You giggled at him, feeling an overwhelming sense of happiness and warmth.

It was 1:32AM when you slept with a ring of your finger, right next to your fiancé.

❊

It was cold but the fireplace filled the room with a lot of warmth. Some Christmas music was playing softly in the background. 

“You look very cute, darlin’,” you heard Harry say as he sat down next to you on the couch, handing you a mug of hot chocolate. Both of you were repping your Christmas sweaters in honour of the holiday. 

“Hmm, thank you, bubs,” you said as you carefully sipped on your hot chocolate. 

Both of you had a small Christmas eve dinner together with your families. When they said it was the most magical time of the year, you couldn’t deny that statement. It was because your home was filled with joy and laughter, drinking up on some warm milk and glasses of wine.

It was already past midnight, which meant it was already Christmas morning. While you agreed to wait until the morning for opening presents, you still were tempted to give Harry one gift that you’ve been saving. 

“Hey,” you said as you looked up to him. Harry hummed in response, sipping his drink out from his pink mug. “Got a present to give ya,” you said smiling at him. You kissed his cheek and put your mint green mug down on the coffee table as you got up to get your gift for him. 

Harry whined as you left your spot from beside him. “Babe, let’s do this in the morning. Just want to cuddle with my wife,” he called out to you in a whiny voice. You giggled as you rummaged through your drawer. Grabbing the red box, you hurried down to your husband, nerves building up as you approached near him. 

You sat down again next to him and handed him the box. Harry shook the box a bit to get a hint of what was inside. “If it’s something you’re gonna wear f’me later, then I don’t want it,” he said as he wiggled his eyebrows in a teasing manner. 

You rolled your eyes at him. “Just open the damn box,” you said as you sip on your drink again. He hummed in response as he took off the lid of the box, rummaging through the paper tissues inside. 

“I’m just saying, love. If it’s lingerie, might as well put it on-,”

Harry paused on his words. His eyes were fixated on the sonogram that sat in the middle of the box. Shakingly, he lifted it up to his face, rubbing his eyes as if to see if they were tricking him. But it was there. 

Harry looked at you with wide eyes and you could see the tears starting to form in them. You smiled nervously, not knowing if his reaction was a good one. “Y-You’re pregnant?” he asked, his voice wavering as he spoke. You nodded at him, tears escaping your eyes as you put a hand on your growing stomach. “I’m pregnant,” you confirmed with your voice cracking.

It was the most heartwarming reaction you thought as Harry broke down in front of you, wrapping his arms around you as he laid his head on your stomach. You laughed tearfully at him as you held at his shaking body tightly against you. You felt him pressing kisses on your clothed stomach and you could feel your heart bursting at the gesture. 

“We’re having a baby,” he cried out.

“We’re having a baby, bubs,” you repeated his words as you rubbed his back.

Harry pulled away and cupped your face, kissing you passionately in which you returned. You could feel the tears on your faces as you kissed, giggling at how much of a mess you both were. 

“I love you,” he mumbled out into the kiss. To him, no other Christmas present would ever top this. And it truly was a merry Christmas.

“I love you, too,” you said lovingly. 

It was 1:32 AM when you both slept in each other’s arms, Harry’s hand on your stomach, where your little love was growing. 

❊

Harry was awakened from his sleep when he heard loud crying. Sighing, he turned to see you still sleeping and huddled up in the blankets. He got out of bed, stretched his muscles a bit, and put on some sweatpants before attending the crying child. 

Parenthood was indeed a challenge to the both of you and you couldn’t deny that. It was hard at first adjusting to the new chapter of your lives, with all the sleepless nights and cleaning up baby puke, but you managed to pull through. Though it seemed like maybe this was another one of your sleepless nights. 

Harry opened the nursery door, the crying of his baby appearing louder than before. “Hi, sunflower,” he cooed as he walked over to the crib where his baby girl was writhing against the blankets. Little baby Rosie’s cries seemed to tone down after seeing her father. She lifted her chubby arms to him, implying that she wanted to be held. 

And who was Harry to deny this request to his daughter as he lifted her out of the crib. He grabbed the little pink blanket that he sewed for her - fatherhood really changed him. Harry cooed at his daughter who was staring at him with big wide eyes, the green eyes reflecting his. It was a notable inheritance, look-wise. Rosie babbled a bit to him and Harry nodded at her to make it seem like he understood. 

Rosie was gripping one the little blanket Harry gave her when he felt a pair of arms wrapped around his waist. He smiled as he felt you putting your head on his shoulder, sighing tiredly as you looked at them. He pressed a kiss on your forehead, turning his body a bit so you could see your daughter. 

“Bed’s cold,” you pouted as you stroke Rosie’s head gently. Rosie cooed at the gesture before nuzzling her head against Harry’s chest. “Sorry, lovie. Our little sunflower here wanted some company,” he said chuckling at the little baby in his arms.

You smiled as Rosie’s eyes were threatening to close. You sighed deeply as you pressed a kiss on Harry’s bare shoulder, which sent some shivers throughout his body. Harry could never get over with your every kiss and touch you laid upon him. He realised now how lucky he was to have come so far with you, despite the fights or arguments you had before. 

“C’mon. She can lay with us,” you chose to say because nothing would warm your heart more than sleeping with your husband and daughter. Harry nodded and carefully carried the nearly sleeping baby into your bedroom. He laid Rosie in the center of your bed, putting her blanket over her little body. 

As you got in your bed, Harry grabbed your arm. “Kissy?” He asked, pouting his lips at you. You giggled at your husband’s silliness and leaned forward to give him a kiss, humming at the feeling. “I love you,” you mumbled softly as you tucked yourself in next to him and Rosie.

“I love you, darlin’,” he said in return. 

And it was 1:32 AM when Harry fell asleep next to his beautiful little family, feeling grateful for everything that has happened in your life together.

[saturngrqy]

Concept of Grayson where him and the reader get into a big argument and Ethan and kris have to literally put you in separate rooms to cool off because you’re so angry

this hoe is long as fu-

Your head was beginning to pound from all the yelling and the pressure of your hands rubbing against your forehead.

"I'm just wondering why you would even fucking tell them that," Grayson spoke, trying to lower his naturally loud voice, never wanting to scare you.

"Tell them what? I don't understand what I did wrong here," you defend, confused.

"You told fucking hollywood fix that we had a date at Nobu on Friday. Now they are gonna have people there taking pictures and I don't want them to take pictures of us when I'm trying to have a nice fucking dinner with my girlfriend," he scoffs, resting his elbows on the counter and hiding his face in his hands with frustration.

Everyone knows how annoying paparazzi can be, but hollywood fix was another level. He is known for asking people way too personal questions in way too personal places. To say Grayson was upset when he found a video clip of you coming out of a store with your friend, explaining all the details of your date planned that week, is an understatement.

"Well I didn't realize that was an issue, I don't know how to deal with paparazzi," you say quietly, suddenly feeling quite small compared to the large man screaming at you. You never responded well to people yelling.

"That's the thing Y/n," he begins, "you don't understand that being in the public eye is a lot more dangerous than you think. I get you aren't used to being seen and everything, but you can at least use your god damn brain," he spat.

You scoffed in disbelief. "Oh I need to use my brain? Last weekend you literally deleted my entire essay for school off my computer on 'accident'," you accuse in air quotes. "What the fuck were you even doing? Looking at porn?" You laugh wickedly.

You both continued to bicker back and forth for around 10 minutes about seemingly nothing. First it was how Grayson forgot to do the laundry, to you forgetting to feed Sledge one afternoon, to even Grayson forgetting to pick you up from an appointment months ago.

Keep in mind, its almost 11 o'clock at night.

Ethan and Kristina did not enjoy having to stuff their heads into a pillow to drown out the screams. Finally taking charge, they walk out of the master bedroom, down to the kitchen, to find the couple red-faced and pointing fingers at one- another.

"Woah, ok, what the fuck is going on," Ethan interrupts, pulling Kristina into his side.

"Y/n literally told hollywood fix about our fucking date at fucking Nobu and now we won't be able to go," he spits, out of breath. Ethan squints his eyebrow.

"Why won't you be able to go?" He asked.

"Because, asswipe, paparazzi are gonna follow us," he sighs. Ethan didn't take offense to the nickname, he knew that Grayson was just in a mood.

Kristina, however, was too focused on your appearance- you looked absolutely exhausted. Your eyes were bloodshot from crying, your eye bags were heavy, and your shoulders were so slumped from stress she thought you had back issues.

"How about we all just calm down and take a breather," Kristina's calm voice interjects. "It's clear you guys are both really upset, so how about you take a break for a second, or sleep in different rooms, I don't know, but you guys both need some space for a bit," she finishes.

For the first time that evening, Y/n took a breath of relief. She was so thankful that she wasn't the only girl in the house at times like these. Without anyone saying a word, Kris grabs Y/n's shaking palm and leads her to the podcast room. Ethan ends up patting Grayson on the back, gesturing him to sit on the couch so they can talk.

Kristina shut the door, enveloping the room in a silence that was a little too refreshing. You both sit in the upholstered gray chairs, her being the first to speak.

"Are you ok? You looked really shaken up," she softly whispers, grabbing your hand. You sniffle.

"I'm fine, I think, I just get really bad anxiety when people yell at me. It makes me feel like I did something wrong, which I guess I did," you murmur, looking down at your lap.

She squeezes your palm. "You did nothing wrong, Gray just likes his privacy, that's all. If he's mad at you, just think about how pissed he is at Mr. Fix," she begins, giggling. "And Grayson often projects his anger onto people he doesn't mean to. He probably just had a bad day, trust me. He loves you so much, he would never purposely make you feel like this." She finishes, enclosing you into a tight hug. You stay like that until a small knock interrupts you two, and a nervous Grayson walks in. He nods at Kristina, and she walks out, giving you a small smile of encouragement.

He replaces her seat, but instead picks you up in his arms and places you right on top of his lap.

"I'm really sorry for yelling, pretty girl. I know that makes you upset and I wasn't really thinking straight. We can reschedule the dinner or whatever you want to do, but I promise I'm not mad at you," He finishes, placing a firm kiss on her temple.

"You aren't?" She questions, barely above a whisper.

"Absolutely not. I need to be more understanding that you are trying to get accustomed to my living, and I am so proud of how well you are able to handle yourself online. I just get worried, and when I see Fletcher trying to talk to you it makes me panic. I don't want you to get overwhelmed. I know he's pretty intense, and I should be more aware of how you feel in those situations." He squeezes you, once again kissing you, this time on the cheek, close to the bridge of your nose. You giggle from the ticklish feeling.

"And for the record, I was not looking at porn, I got all I need right here," he declares. You laugh, your cheeks increasingly reddening.

"There's that smile," he gushes. "I love you so so much, sweetheart, and I don't want you to ever think any different."

And that night he definitely made it up to her- so much so that Ethan and Kristina once again had to reach for the pillows.

[moonlightlullaby]

no celebrations?

summary: Corpse and reader celebrate his birthday in the most chill way. Based on this lovely request (ty again for sending it!) 

pairing: corpse husband x gn! reader

category: fluff

warnings: food ingestion; alcohol ingestion; loads of physical touch (let me know if I forgot to mention anything)

A/N: Hello (: This is such a lovely concept, I just couldn’t wait to get started hehe Also, I got a bit carried away and just went with it, so I’m really sorry if that’s not what you’d pictured. I do hope you enjoy it tho <3 Take care!

word count: 2.4k

Masterlist

Walking into our shared bedroom, I catch the sight of Corpse exiting the bathroom. As our eyes lock, my lips curl up tiredly and a long sigh I didn’t even know I’ve been holding finally frees itself. He sits on the edge of our bed and extends his hand to me. When I take it, he pulls me so I stand in the space between his legs.

“How was the day?” he asks with both of his hands on my waist. 

I hum, quirking a brow and tilting my head a bit “At least tomorrow - you know, the most unspecial, completely ordinary day of the year -” this earns a giggle from my boyfriend “is Sunday and I can just ignore all of that” I wave my hand in the direction of the adjacent room, where my laptop - filled with texts, assignments, spreadsheets and appointed Zoom calls - is. 

At my words, Corpse wraps his arms around my figure, pulls my body even closer to him and plants a kiss on my stomach through my shirt. My hands, in turn, caress his upper back and soft hair. 

Coming in contact with the string of his eyepatch in the process, I lean back slightly, which causes him to shoot up at me with a small frown and pouty lips. He sits still, though, as I carefully remove his eyepatch, and, while his eyes are still closed, I give each of his lids a peck. He smiles and tilts his head up to meet my lips in a long, tender and effortless kiss. Oh finally.

The idea of quarantining together was welcomed as a blessing by both of us. It meant more time spent together after all. However, with my school and work demands and Corpse’s irregular schedule, we still barely see each other throughout the day in spite of being a few feet apart from one another. And when bedtime rolls in, we’re both so exhausted all we can do is mumble words that could be counted in the fingers of one hand before drifting off. This, of course, when my boyfriend doesn’t stay up until dawn working. Don’t get me wrong, I’m his number 1 fan and admire his passion and all the hard work he puts in everything he sets his mind to, but I’m also not going to lie and say I don’t miss his warmth at night. Hence I want to devote this Sunday to him.

After a while, I break the silence “I’ll be right back.”

I let go of his hold and take my turn to use the bathroom. After doing my night routine, brushing my teeth and getting into my cozy pajamas, I walk back in the dark room and lie down, settling myself back in Corpse’s hug like two puzzle pieces matching together.

~~~~~

The excitement for a new day - not any day, no, but August 8th - washes over me as soon as I open my eyes and get a glimpse of the sleepy boy next to me. 

A couple of minutes go by as I contemplate on getting up, torn between prolonging our cuddling for some more and doing something to show Corpse my appreciation for him. The latter wins and I, cautious not to wake him up, slowly unwrap my arms from him and step out of the bed. Drawing the curtains to make sure the summer daylight doesn’t disturb his peaceful state of mind, I make my way out of the room and to the kitchen. 

Wondering what to make for breakfast, I take a good look around until my eyes catch the plethora of fruits we’ve bought a few days ago. Fruit salad it is. 

Corpse has, for as long as we’ve known each other, made it very clear he isn’t too fond of his anniversary and similar celebrations - and, even if he hadn’t explained it to me, it’s rather evident how uncomfortable they make him. This year, his friends’ and especially his fans’ hype for the date - although unintentionally - has added an extra layer of unease to it all, to which I don’t intend to contribute.

Even though I don’t want to make matters worse and would never overstep his boundaries like this (because, thankfully, I’m not Betty Cooper and he isn’t Jughead Jones), I still want to celebrate Corpse. I want to celebrate his birth and his existence, which I’m immensely grateful for. He’s both the best friend I can confide in blindly and the lover I want to share my lifetime with. He sticks to his truth and dreams higher than I could ever imagine. He turns the darkness in the world and in his mind into light with his words and with his laugh. Having him in my life is one of the best things to ever happen to me and seeing him fly makes me more proud than I can put into words. 

There’s a lot to toast to, so the solution is a celebration that is so smooth and so chill - the smoothest and most chill possible - that it doesn’t even feel like one. Just log off and enjoy a laid back day together.

As I chop a kiwi and make a mental list of fun and uncomplicated things we can do that don’t require much time and many skills, in walks Corpse, in an old white tee which is one too many sizes bigger than him and in his black sweatpants. He rubs his eyes and lets a raspy “good morning”.

“Mornin- wow! They really weren’t lying when they said when you hit 24, hotness knocks at your door”

He chuckles and shakes his head “No one’s said that”

“Well, then consider yourself the muse of a new proverb, baby”

He scrunches up his nose in response before grabbing the cup of orange juice I’d placed on the counter and taking a gulp. 

“Thank you” he turns my face and gives me an orange-flavoured kiss, neither of us having ever really cared about morning breath. 

“For calling you hot? Oh save it to when I’m done with the list of cheesy compliments I have for you” I take a grape and before I can get it in my mouth, he steals it, with wrinkles on the corner of his eyes.

“Then we’d be here for eternity!” he’s not wrong.

Corpse helps me put the fresh fruits in bowls and, with them and our juice cup in hand, we head to the balcony. Sitting next to each other, we calmly eat, take in the light blue sky and the cars and passersby changing the scenery ahead of us. Conversation flows naturally.

As we empty our bowls - after stealing many bits from each other -, I twist in my seat and face him “Hey, Corpse, do you see this?” I point to the very prominent and familiar dark circles under my eyes. “Wanna help me get rid of them?” I ask, knowing damn well it’d take a lifetime for them to actually go away and not giving up regardless.

~~~~~

The bathroom is filled with chatter and laughter and the sink, with hair clips, scrunchies, a sharpie, bowls, hair products and a towel. Corpse hisses as our cool homemade face mask comes in contact with his skin. His curly hair is pushed back and held by a blue hairband and I apply the mask to his face, making sure not to leave any spots uncovered. Well, that’s what I’m trying to do, which becomes an unnecessarily challenging task when my lovely partner can’t be still for more than two seconds. 

He kept switching between dancing to Soulmate, by Mac Miller, and mouthing its lyrics. Now that I got him - after a small threat that I wouldn’t hesitate putting this weird mix we made in his pretty mouth - to keep his lips together, the (adorable, admittedly) swaying, however, continues. He stops momentarily, only to shuffle things around right after.

Something cold touches my skin, making it my turn to let out a hiss this time. The sound is accompanied by a small jump, caused by the surprise. Corpse chuckles and, when I glance at the spot on my arm the cold thing came in contact with, I realize it’s just the sharpie. All he does is give me a mischievous smile.

While I keep massaging his face and covering it with the mask, Corpse litters my body with his drawings. Smiley faces, lightning bolts, hearts, clouds... his repertoire is vast and any exposed skin he can find becomes his canvas. Each line causing me to giggle and shudder a little. With him focused on his creations, it’s 10 times easier for me to complete my task. 

“Alright, my turn” he states, smiling, and I’m quick to grab the sharpie. 

As he adjusts a matching hairband on my head, I put a dainty heart on his neck. And, as he takes the bowl in his hands, I swiftly plant a kiss on top of the drawing. At this, he sighs in content and my chest gets warmer.

I soon understand how hard it was for him to stay still as Stay comes on and all I want to do is have a little karaoke session and dance. Corpse entertains himself with my struggle and, because it’s his birthday, I’ll let it slide. So, to make the whole process easier, instead of focusing on the song, I focus on the gorgeous face in front of me. A beautiful face to a beautiful soul. 

One of the various perks of sharing an apartment with Corpse is I get to see this face in all ways: sleepy, completely clean - no makeup, no mask -, all wrinkled in the morning, red when he’s embarrassed or when he laughs too hard… His laughter. Its sound pulls me from my trance “You’re staring, y/n” 

“Well, at least I wasn’t moving around, Corpse” I reply with squinted eyes and nudge his side playfully. 

We begin collecting the things scattered across the sink and storing them in the cabinet, and the song comes to an end, giving way to Dang!

“How long do we keep these on?” 

I hum at the question and check the playlist on shuffle on my phone “How does 5 minutes and 2 seconds sound?” 

Facing him, his grin mirrors mine and he spins me around. We laugh and allow ourselves to be as goofy as possible, jamming and moving our limbs around with a green paste on our faces.

~~~~~

After washing off the masks in the shower and painting our nails - so we’re both rocking the black nail polish look -, we’ve set our minds to - finally - finish the puzzle we started two months ago. It’s a 90’s anime setting inspired composition and we’d gotten about 40% of it done before our schedules got more hectic and the game, well, pushed aside. For weeks, the pieces sat on the ground of our living room and silently judged us every time either of us stepped to the side, as we crossed the room, in order not to crush them.

Sitting around the puzzle with comfy clothes, we team up against it and indulge in the wine Corpse’s got us and the hawaiian pizza I’ve ordered. 

As the picture comes more and more to life, moments of comfortable silence and of chattery - when we talk about anything from our shopping list and gossip about our neighbours’ lives to parallel universes and the matrix - follow one another. A different playlist on shuffle is our background noise. 

Time flies and the sun’s already hidden when it clicks to us that there are only 5 pieces left. Each piece is fitted in the whole with a giddier feeling than the previous. Corpse picks the last one - deep blue with purple and black specks - and turns to me with an excited smile and an eager gaze that I’m sure are mirrored on my face. I nod encouragingly. He places it in the puzzle and celebratory sounds fill the room.

Corpse stretches his arms and pulls me in a hug, but, since we’re both kneeling and because of the distance between us, we end up falling and lying on the ground in rather uncomfortable positions. 

“Come on, puzzle, that was easy breezy! Gotta step up your game if you really wanna challenge this duo right here!”

“Oh for sure!” Corpse squeaks as we laugh at our nonsensical brag.

After a moment while we catch our breath, he rubs my back and speaks, pulling my attention to him “Not that I’m not loving this position, but what if we watched some Drag Race?”

Is this man real? If I couldn’t feel his heart beating under me or his arms around my figure, I’d be sure he’s just a figment of my imagination. “But it’s your b- don’t you wanna choose something you like more? Li-” 

“Nope,” he boops my nose “Drag Race, or maybe Love Island, would be great right now.” And people still dare say the perfect man doesn’t exist!

“You’re such a dream!” I give him a quick peck before continuing “Ok, so I put on the show and you get more wine…?” He hums in approval and stands up. Our eyes briefly jump from each other to the puzzle and back to each other, then we simply nod. A silent agreement to leave the puzzle here. We’re both too lazy to put all the pieces back in the box and too proud of our achievement to let it go just yet; besides, everything’s been sitting here for about two months, what are a few more hours?

He steps to the side, gets our glasses and makes his way to the kitchen. I lie on the couch and scan Netflix for Drag Race. Corpse comes back, placing the glasses next to the couch, and gently lies down on top of me. He nests his head on my chest and we both hum contently.  

While RuPaul announces what the winner’s prize will be, I play with his hair, letting my fingers knead his curls. His right hand flies up to meet mine and I bring our intertwined hands to my lips, peppering his knuckles with kisses. The gesture is cut by a loud laugh that escapes my lips as miss Vanjie Mateo’s iconic moment replays on the screen. 

“Hey,” Corpse’s voice makes me look right back at him “I love you. You know that, right?”

My heart melts at his words and at the way he’s looking at me right now. I nod with a smile.

“I love you too, birthday boy.”

[kujakumai]

cleaned up old WIP, 2800 words, AU where Yami Bakura succeeds in switching hosts in DK and Mokuba makes friends with an evil ghost. Not going to be continued but it literally would not leave my brain alone until I finished it.

Things were not going according to plan.

The plan was to take control of a soulless puppet, an easy vessel incapable of interfering with his ends. He had the vessel, had accomplished that much, but he was not expecting the pharaoh and his little friends to succeed and convince Pegasus to give everyone their souls back. So now not only was there a second person in this body he had to keep suppressed, but now he was stuck impersonating a child, smiling through an awkward reunion and then placed onto a helicopter next to a gangly high school student who was watching him like a hawk.

The spirit-that-was-no-longer-Yami-Bakura knew that he was supposed to be Mokuba, but he did not remember the tall one's name. K-something. He had a stupid jacket and hardly took his eyes off him the entire ride, as if he thought his little brother was going to disappear in a puff of smoke when he wasn't looking. Annoying. Infuriating. Luckily it did not seem he wanted to talk, or at least accepted silence. No one expects recent kidnapping victims to say much, which was a boon. A little dazed, a little quiet, a little off, and no one really found it unusual.

They dropped off the pharaoh and his friends, and finally landed at a gaudy and ostentatious house so large it took him a second to realize it was a home at all, an absurd monument to decadence with grounds full of ugly topiaries. Wealth, then. Perhaps this wouldn't be so bad. He could work with this. The rich kid in the stupid coat quietly held his hand the entire walk up the driveway, until they entered a foyer just as gilded and obscene as the outside had been.

No, things were not going to plan, and playing grade-schooler was awkward and an insult to his dignity, and he was farther away from the other millennium items as he ever had been. He would have to grit his teeth through it until he could figure out the next step. In the meantime, perhaps, enjoy some amenities.

Richie rich sighed, relaxed his shoulders the moment they got inside. He looked at who he thought was his little brother and gave him a small, exhausted but genuine smile. He struggled with what to say next.

"Mokuba," he said, "I have to check on a few things in my office. See what kind of damage they did. Do you want to come with me?"

"No." Finally, a chance to be out of this idiot's sight.

This answer seemed to surprise him, a twitch of skepticism. "Will you be okay by yourself?"

He nodded. Keep answers short, when you're impersonating.

His face betrayed more skepticism, concern, and the tiniest hint of disappointment. As if rich kid himself was the one who was scared to be alone in his own house. He accepted the answer, though, to the spirit's relief.

Rich kid bent down and pulled him into a tight hug and ruffled his hair. "We'll get something special for dinner, okay? And ice cream."

"I do like ice cream." This was true. Ryou Bakura almost never bought ice cream, and when he did it was the stupid healthy kind that everyone knew shouldn't even really qualify as ice cream, which was another reason he was a terrible host. That and the fact that he was startlingly pale and had the upper body strength of a limp noodle and the personality of skim milk. This would be better, even if he had to deal with the abrupt drop in height.

Rich kid headed off towards the staircase with another tired but trying-to-be-reassuring smile, and it was then that the spirit of the ring felt an annoyance in the back of his brain. A presence. A scratching, biting, flailing presence, screeching mad, which he had been suppressing for a while now but finally broke through.

get out get out get out get out give it back its MINE get out

The host, awake. What a bother. More rambunctious than Bakura, then? No matter. He could handle a child.

that was MY hug and MY headpat and MY big brother and you can't have them he's been gone for ages and they're mine not yours get out get out get out

The spirit pushed back, ignored him. Shush. He had planned to hold this body alone, and he did not intend to go back to sharing. If you're good, I might let you have it back for a little while later.

shut up go away go away go away go AWAY

And then Mokuba Kaiba did something, something the spirit was not accustomed to or expecting at all, something which Ryou Bakura had never been willing or able to do. He shoved, violently, and the spirit of the ring was ripped out of control with some amount of panic.

"SETOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!"

Why you insolent little--

Seto Kaiba was not aware of the mental turf war happening over his little brothers body. What he did see was his brother scream his name and fall down, and the whole room echoed with a metal clatter as his briefcase fell on the floor and he ran towards him.

--

The ring had been discarded unceremoniously to a side table, and not-Bakura-and-not-Mokuba-either had no choice but to wait and observe, as a pediatrician on a sudden housecall shined lights in the boy's eyes and rich kid, who the spirit had since gleaned was named Seto Kaiba, looked on in worry.

"You said you heard a voice?" The doctor asked.

"Uh-huh. I think it lives in the necklace."

"You got that thing at Pegasus's house?" Kaiba asked, in disbelief.

"I don't remember. I was just wearing it when I woke up."

"What did the voice say?" the doctor continued, professionally ignoring any talk about magic necklaces.

"Not a lot. It was kind of mean."

"I see." She turned to Kaiba. "He's fine, physically. You might want a psychologist." and Seto Kaiba made what could politely be referred to as A Face. This was not what he wanted to hear, this was news that worried and annoyed him in equal measure, and to some degree was news he had half-expected.

"He's had a rough few months. I'll look into it." and she was dismissed, and Mokuba hopped down from the counter.

"Can we order pizza?" he asked, with big pleading eyes.

Kaiba watched him with dry amusement. "Mokuba, you can have anything you want from any restaurant in a forty mile radius."

"And I want pizza. Real pizza, from somewhere that doesn't also serve caviar."

"Cheap pizza?"

He nodded very seriously. "The grossest greasiest cheapest."

"I can do that. Anything else you want?"

Mokuba's eyes lit up, and soon he was dragging Kaiba by the hand towards somewhere else in the house. "I got to this really hard level in my game I can't get past and I wanted to see if you could beat it, and I found this really cool video I wanted to show you, and I got a really good report card you never saw, and--" and months worth of pent up requests were tumbling out rapid fire, and Kaiba was smiling with affection and some amount of relief.

Loud and clingy, then, was the normal and expected behavior. The spirit of the ring made note of this, as he lie abandoned.

--

The ring was still sitting on a side table, in Mokuba's bedroom, apparently because no one knew what to with it or thought it mattered much. This was a problem. The spirit couldn't do anything without a host, and now everyone was suspicious, these stupid rich people worried too much and paid too much attention.

He was forced to sit there all night, pondering about how he was going to get out of this mess, when at one or two in the morning he observed Mokuba wake up, and rub his eyes, and hop out of bed. He did not turn the light on, but he did check the time, and reach under his bed to retrieve what appeared to be a small backpack. He took it with him as he moved quietly towards the door, and the spirit saw his chance.

Hey, kid. He was near enough to speak into his head. Maybe this wasn't a dead end.

"You!" Mokuba stopped in his tracks and looked right at the ring.

Yes, me. This could be salvaged, he thought, concocting a plan. This was a child. Play friendly ghost and imaginary friend. Surely it would not be hard to weasel himself into the good graces of a sixth grader.

Mokuba glared at the ring with suspicion. "I don't think Seto believed me when I said you could talk, but I knew it." He picked it up delicately by the string to examine.

Where on earth are you going at this time of night?

Mokuba was the current host, technically, so there was a connection, and 11 year olds are not particularly used to or adept at hiding their own thoughts, especially inside their own heads. The answer, if not in words but in abstract concept, was provided instantly as it bubbled to mind. He was going to the kitchen, as he did once or twice a week, not their personal kitchen but the house staff kitchen, where he would move a chair to stand on the counter to reach the very back of the highest shelf of the third cupboard to the left, which was where one of the cleaning staff kept a pile of chocolate so he could cheat on his diet without his wife knowing, a fact Mokuba knew through surreptitious eavesdropping. Mokuba's end was to steal just enough of it that he wouldn't be noticed, and add it to a stash of snacks and other shiny trinkets currently hidden in the bottom of a pile of legos in his closet.

...You steal food to hide in your closet? Why would a child who lived in a three-story mansion need to steal?

Mokuba was only mildly perturbed by the fact that someone had just read his mind. He was mainly curious, now. "Our dad didn't like junk food, so I always took stuff to keep around." he explained, "I guess I don't really have to anymore, 'cuz Seto will let me have whatever I want, but--" he faltered, unable to finish or give a reason.

There wasn't a reason, and Mokuba knew that. There was no need to sneak or stash or steal anymore, but he kept doing it, irrationally, for reasons that confused him, a complicated swirl of things a child could not name or understand but were very easy for the spirit to read. Fear; compulsion; habit; the illusion of safety; the sense that your life was precarious, unstable; a need to exert control over your surroundings. It was not the food or the stealing that mattered, but of the hiding, of having something they could not take away from him.

Mokuba didn't understand any of that, because he was 11 and 11 year olds don't understand why they do anything. He just knew he liked sweets and hated people telling him what to do and that having bags of chips and other people’s lost jewelry at the bottom of an old toybox made him feel better.

Can I come with you?

"No! You tried to take control of me!"

Yes, but you kicked me out, and you'd probably be able to do it again, so I would be stupid to try. I also like chocolate, you see, and it's very boring to be stuck here on your desk.

"Can you even eat? You're a necklace."

I can when I borrow a body.

"You tried to take over me so you could eat chocolate? I'm not stupid enough to believe that."

That and other things. I can't do very much at all, while stuck in the ring. No food, no sunshine, no running around. It's no fun to be without a body, which is why I am occasionally driven to steal one. Terribly sorry about that. he added, in his most pathetic-sounding tone, Please? I don't have anyone else to talk to.

Mokuba was hesitant, but clearly found the fact of his existence too interesting to ignore. "Fine." He picked up the ring and dropped it unceremoniously into his backpack, which had a dragon on it.

Not trust yet, but tolerance and curiosity. One step at a time.

You shouldn't go barefoot, you know. Socks will be quieter if you're trying not to get caught.

"I didn't ask you."

So Mokuba descended down the stairwell, in the dead quiet and dark of the Kaiba Mansion, with no flashlight because he knew it well enough to navigate blindfolded. The place was decadent in the ugly way rich people's houses were, luxury but without taste, soft carpets and gilded banisters.

Mokuba had not quite realized yet how to think at the ring, so he spoke in a low whisper. "What are you, anyway?"

A ghost. So much more complicated than that, but simple words were suitable for children.

"How'd you end up a ghost in a necklace?"

I died, and then someone put me in a necklace.

"That's not an answer." he followed up, "Do all dead people become ghosts?"

No. Just sometimes, maybe, if the way they died was especially violent or gruesome or terrible.

Mokuba frowned. He had caught on remarkably quickly to guarding his own head, but the spirit could tell he didn't like this answer.

This was delicate, but he risked a push. Was there someone you had in mind?

Mokuba said nothing. He reached the staff kitchen on the lowest floor, and opened the door, slow and careful. He was deciding whether to say anything, as he climbed up as quietly as he could and reached far into the back of the cupboard, scrabbling.

"Our dad killed himself last year. Jumped out a window." He finally said, hopping down with his spoils. He said this the same way one might dolefully report the milk had gone bad. Unfortunate but boring.

You don't sound very sad.

"Nah, he sucked. And he never liked me." he said, "Seto was really really upset though. He was pretending not to be, but I could tell." Now there were feelings there, big and weird and sad and clinging ones. For reasons the spirit could not discern, the simple phrase ‘Seto was upset’ carried with it more weight, a thousand million times more weight, than news of a father's tragic death by defenestration. "I hope he's not a ghost. I don't wanna see him again."

Probably not.

Mokuba sat down cross-legged on the kitchen floor, unwrapped candy in silver foil. "You really can't do anything from in the necklace? Like, ghost stuff? Make things float or anything?"

No. It is a bit like being trapped in a very small box.

Mokuba mulled this over for a little while. "If you wanted to borrow a body to do fun stuff, you could have just asked."

Really?

He nodded. "Not being able to eat chocolate sounds lame. It'd be mean to just leave you like that." He put one chocolate into his mouth and dumped the rest in the backpack, where they covered the ring unceremoniously. More indignities. "Not in front of my brother, though. And you have to give it back whenever I say so."

...I could agree to such a compromise. Your candy haul is impressive, by the way.

"Thanks!" He grinned, emanating genuine pride. No one had ever complimented him for stealing before.

Tragic, the work of great thieves. How the very best of it can never be bragged about, the most impressive of skills gone unnoticed by nature, how the very success of a perfect crime relies on keeping your mouth shut about it. An unappreciated art, where even mastery gains you no respect.

You don't care that this poor man has to go out and buy twice as much food to make up for what you steal?

"No, he's a jerk. One time when I was six they confiscated my gameboy, so I went to steal it back and he caught me and told my dad and I got in huge trouble. So every day for a week I snuck down here and moved his keys to a different place so he couldn't find them. They were all so mad at him for losing them all the time, and he thought he was crazy."

Why was your gameboy confiscated?

"Don't remember. I think I bit someone at school." he shrugged, "They probably deserved it, though."

Mokuba Kaiba. he said, I think you and I are going to be excellent friends.

"Okay. Do ghosts watch cartoons?"