#technically the line is 'what man are you stealing all these clothes from' but this is the funniest interpretation

[delafiseaseses]

Ruminations on Andy Scabb

So Andy Scabb's a bit of a weird character, ain't he? I think he is. Let's talk about him.

Basics first: Andy Scabb is a Ghoul who lives in The Gray of North Vegas Square. He's a small-time gang leader, his gang consists of him and two men simply called 'Thug' by the game (though there names are pretty clearly Fred and M.) who wear standard wasteland clothing and armed with 10mm weapons. Andy himself also wears a standard outfit, but he carries a 9mm SMG (as well as some jet and dog meat). Technically, I guess you could also say his girlfriend, Alice Hostetler, is a member in the loosest possible sense. But, yeah, that's his gang: small, poorly armed nobodies who live in The Gray.

Andy's Plan

I mentioned Andy has a girlfriend called Alice Hostetler, the daughter of Don and Becky Hostetler (Becky only gets called 'Mrs. Hostetler' in-game and this first name apparently comes from some scripts or somethin'). Mrs. Hostetler is a 'farmer' in a loose sense of the word and Don is an account manager from the Crimson Caravan Company and he also has ties to the Khan drug trade, but that's not important. What is important is that he has money and Andy wants to steal it. This is explained in the 'Henchman message to Andy Scabb' which reads:

'Looks like you were right. The Hostetler man always carries a full pouch back to their house, every night. The same pouch's empty whenever he goes work to Crimson Caravan, Fred's seen it himself. No chance in hell this is all a coincidence. He's bringing something with him whenever he leaves work. That's gotta be his daily cut from the business. Alice's gonna have to find all that dough for us. If we get caught near their place her bitch mother's gonna snap for the big guns... That'll make Crandon, or worse, Jules, come after us. I ain't too happy about risking my neck for nothing, Andy. Let's make sure Alice's a good doggie first, then do whatever you want with her once we are outta this fucking hole. M.'

So, as you can see Andy and his 'Thugs' (M. and Fred) are simply planning to use Alice to rob her family and use the money to leave North Vegas. Getting into Andy's flat and discovering this note spawns the man himself. And he... is a very curious character.

Andy's Dialogue

So, Andy confronts you as you leave The Gray and you're gonna now learn why I think he's such a weird fuckin' guy. He has only a few lines, but he certainly uses 'em.

His first line is 'What are you looking at, huh? Answer me, or I'll get trigger-happy real quick.' starting with a threat, as you'd expect.

You can respond a few ways, including the classic '<Attack> I'm here to kill you.' to which he says 'Nobody threatens me and walks away alive!' but that's the dull option.

The more interesting options are like 'Relax, I was just leaving.' to which he says 'Wait right there. I don't recall seeing your pretty face before - what do you want?' or 'Wait right there. You told my men that Alice's mother was waiting for me outside, didn't you?' as a bit of reaction to how you got into his flat.

You can try to talk your way away and he says 'Hmmm... I've got my eye on you. Get the fuck off my turf.' or 'Please, I've seen kids who were better liars than you. Tell the truth now - what are you after?' the first one shows he considers The Gray his 'turf'... I don't think anyone cares enough to argue with that.

One thing I love about this conversation is that you can just leave without any speech checks or anything. There's 4 instances of that in Andy's rather limited dialogue. 'Nothing, goodbye.' 'Leaving so soon? And I thought we'd have time for a little chat.', 'Goodbye.' 'It's not polite to leave in the middle of a conversation, but I won't try to teach you manners. This time.', 'Goodbye.' 'Yeah, sure.' and another 'Goodbye.' 'That's right, and good riddance.', so, yeah, Andy makes a threat at the start, but you can just leave.

The most interestin' thing is when you actually talk to him about Alice and his plan, such as 'Yes, I did. I know about your plans for Alice.' his reaction... 'You think I give a shit? Has it crossed your mind that Alice is all the way in this with me?' and, honestly, giving a shit is very much not a thing for Andy Scabb. He really doesn't give a shit.

'Why would she be?' 'Maybe because I'm so good-looking. Maybe because her mother's trying to break her back planting crops that die from rads as soon as they're in the ground. Or maybe she's just a dupe. Why do you even care? She's happy making her own way in the world.' which is... again, caring about things too hard seems a bit beyond Scabb, but you can give a few responses to them last lines.

If you say 'She deserves to know the truth.' his response is 'And... you think that's worth her happiness? Go on and tell her, then. Watch what happens when you crush her dreams.' and... he does mean that you can go tell her. He literally only goes hostile if you attack him first.

We can also quite rightly say to Andy 'You're manipulating her into betraying her family.' to which he says the most interesting of his responses 'Family's just what the world throws on our shoulders without our say or opinion. You think Alice cares about her family? Tell her, then. Family's what drove her to me in the first place.' this is the closest to givin' a shit about anything Scabb takes in this conversation. His distain of family and his oddly poetic way of wording it. Still, he again will let you leave.

Even if you ask 'Aren't you afraid I'll blow your plans?' he'll respond 'And how exactly would you do that?' mate, Alice won't split the Hostetler cut with you if she knows you, Fred and M. look down on her?

You can also say 'A cut from the Hostetlers' money, and I might help you.' to which he'll say 'I'm glad we understand each other. Alice's at her home, getting our means out of this shit-hole. Make sure things go smoothly.', but that never happens no matter what. The quest is over after the Alice confrontation at the Hostetler House and Andy is gone no matter what happens.

Interestingly Apathetic

So... you see now why I think Andy's so weird, right? He really doesn't seem to give a shit about anything. He kind of wants to leave 'this shit-hole', but he's either far too confident in his control of Alice or he genuinely doesn't care even slightly if his plan works out.

Like, is he trying to use the idea that 'Alice won't be happy if she knows I'm manipulating' to make you not go to the Hostetler house? It's pretty half-hearted of an attempt. But I guess that's as much as Andy can muster.

The family thing is the most interesting bit. I guess Andy didn't have a good relationship with his family. He may even be a pre-war Ghoul (though that'd make his relationship with Alice even worse than it is). We'll never know.

Most minor antagonists in Fallout New Vegas have confidence and at least some passion. Barton Thorn is confident that he'll kill you after you clear out the Geckos. Logan is confident when he backstabs you. Even the other two minor enemies of Someone to Watch Over Me, Squatter Bill and Greasy Johnny, are far more passionate than Andy Scabb. But you can just tell Andy you'll ruin all his plans and he'll say "Go on then." with limited resistance.

Some Additional Bits

So, as you probably know, some people go on the internet and tell fibs. Would you believe that Andy Scabb is probably subject to such a fib? In his case it's the assertion that Scabb has Strange Meat in his room... I have looked over that room before and found nothin' of the sort. The only meat associated with Andy is some Dog Meat he has. Like, Andy Scabb is a bad guy, but he's not, but he doesn't seem to be a cannibal. Correct me if you think I'm wrong there, and I'll verify it myself and apologise for this part.

Jules knows Andy, and his line about Alice kinda implies he knows Andy is bad news 'Alice … Oh yeah. I've seen her 'round here much too often as of late. I reckon she's been hanging out with Andy and his crew.'

And one last thing: Scabb. His last name is Scabb and he is a Ghoul, this is presumably like the 'Jason Bright is a Glowing One' situation.

[lozmastermm]

My problem with RE's artistry, in terms of character designs, is it feels like someone heard about Frank West just being an average guy, and, without seeing him, decided "Ah, Black Sweatshirt and jeans, generic hair style" and called it a day.

Just because we have the technology to make stuff realistic looking, doesn't mean you should design the most mundane aspects of life into your creative work. It can, but it's RE.

I don't have a clue what Ethan looks like unless a picture is directly in front of me, and even then I forget the second he's gone. Maybe we shouldn't design characters to look like people you pass by in real life but don't notice? A character design that defies object permanance by being so forgettable and boring. Impressive.

It's like Leon in RE2's intro with the jacket. Like man, have fun making something. Forgettable and it should've been something. Anything but what feels like filler work.

Chris, Leon, Claire, Jill, simple outfits but stellar design. Harry Mason, James Sunderland, Frank West, simple, but memorable and iconic.

Fuckin...Ethan and his daughter? Who? All I remember is average pedestrians. Personality be damned, a Grey Circle ain't a character, it's an object given a personality without the visible showings of someone with it. Vapid and existentially boring.

Don't get me started on the degredation of UI. Went from an actual FULL Screen of Artistry to...white lines in the center...My god.

It's also why I'm not interested in 7 and up. Snowy place, boring cabin in the woods with Average Pedestrian characters. Meh. Imagine if Chainsaw Massacre was just a normal dude in normal clothes but with a bloody chainsaw. No personality. Just situations and a story that plays At you and not with you. Gameplay is probably great but I get bored So Damn Fast. Gameplay matters as much as artistry, otherwise, Tetris wouldn't have changed visually from it's Text based format. What doesn't matter and RE7+ proves time and again, is that Graphics are meaningless if you have no creativity guiding it.

Realism was just about the last thing RE needed. It was always sharp visually but character designs were cartoonish. Even RE's remake followed suit. This is because these are Silly Stories with varying measurements of seriousness. The RE8 DLC wears the skin of that but refuses to really work with it. Instead, pushing further on SH-like elements because the last unique idea visually that they had was Uroboros.

Artistry has never been more dead for RE characters, but world design for games like RE2RE and even some parts of RE3RE show there is a real detail oriented team that's either hamped by the company/CEO, or themselves incapable of truly making anything without it having basis in reality. Or to put it simply: Crisis ain't great, it has always been a technical showcase first, everything second, and Artistry Dead.

RE7 felt like a technical showcase based on stealing SH:PT's hype for a series they went creatively bankrupt on decades ago. So inherent that the shift to first person makes you ask, wh- why resident evil?

Why Resident Evil at all? Nothing taking place feels remotely in the same universe. Somehow managing to take Alone in a Cabin in the Woods and make it feel absolutely nothing like it. As you explore the question comes up "Why Resident Evil if you're not doing Resident Evil?"

It'a artistically not the same series. It's story and characters rapidly departed from the series. Nothing is RE. It's one of those games. It'd done worse and be regarded more honestly had the title been anything else. On it's own, these are okay games. But with RE a Dead Series, it feels good when a company known for poor quality products and rabid anti-consumerism actually put out something...Not Bad!

But the hype is gone. They overdid it with DLC for the remakes and were anti-consumer while at it. They basically gave up on a real plot for the series with the DLC and practically immortal main character. Then sneaking microtransactions into RE4RE, all I can ever really ask when I see any designs for modern RE, is "Why Resident Evil?" and outside of marketing, I don't see why at all.

I find it pretty cool, albeit equally frustrating, that this series has had so many iterations and forms. It went from fixed camera survival horror, to BtS fast paced shooter, to FPS horror. I give credit to Capcom for not being scared of change, but ya have to remember, this is Capcom.

RE4 changed the genre and they got lazy with RE5 (Bugged ending boss, shorter, poor partner AI) and their brilliant idea was RE6 in it's entirety. That killed the series because while everyone loved RE4, they didn't want it to be the direction. RE5 showed they were ready to milk it, and RE6 killed the series.

No news of anything RE for years. Suddenly PT comes out, and Capcom, realizing They Cannot Be Creative, just steals the concept, within months, have a demo out.

While appreciation of change and growth is there, let's be honest, none of RE's changes, outside of RE4, have been honest creativity. Just the usual 3-A format of "Constantly Regurgitate." RE4 was successful, so 2 clones come out very lazily. PT was successful and SH had been a dead series since SH4. Steal from them because marketing and it works.

Imagine if companies were like in the 2000s under, and they just told their creative team to make a good product. Now it's so railroaded and forever never innovating. Capcom's consistently shown they're creatively bankrupt and anti-consumer.

So, when I see Ethan, for that moment of Allowed Object Permanence, all I see is nothing. A pedestrian, a background character, not an average joe, but filler. When I see the UI, I see a total void of any creativity or care. When I see the cutscenes, I ask, what is this? Until Dawn?

[inkdemonapologist]

Abby: Check out my sweet outfit Joey, two braincells max: Does that mean a man is naked somewhere

I DIDNT EXPECT TO BE DRAWING TIOL FANART BUT THEN ABBY LAMBERT SHOWED UP IN A TUX 

anyway mlm/wlw solidarity

[e-vasong]

I’ve already talked about a Leverage crossover where the Hargreeves are conmen but I'm. losing it thinking about. a Leverage AU where the Leverage team sees these kids on tv, and they just go.  oh shit, that’s just fucking wrong.  (I know the timelines don’t match up but let’s pretend the umbrella kids were born a little later, or that Leverage takes place a little earlier, or something like that.  I don’t know.)

But these fucking umbrella kids show up on TV, and at first none of them are paying much attention. Not right away.  They’re busy running cons, and none of them except Hardison watch TV for fun very often.

So they’ve all heard bits and pieces about this Umbrella thing, and aren’t quite sure what to make of it.  Superhumans, huh? Eliot mutters at one point. Whatever. Our lives are already so goddamn weird.

But eventually they catch a broadcast while they’re home in between cases.  it’s playing in the background while they’re enjoying a meal together at the brewery.

The Umbrella Academy saves the day yet again! the broadcaster declares cheerily. We go now to a statement at the Louvre from their leader, Sir Reginald Hargreeves.

It’s just novel enough to catch their attention--being who they are, they all perk up at the word Louvre--and it gets them half-watching as they chat over breakfast.

It’s Parker that sees it first.  She’s Parker, so what catches her attention is actually not the fact that one of them is covered in blood, nor is it the fact that their father is calling them by numbers instead of names.  It’s the way that they stand, tense and upright.  It’s the way that the one covered in blood is trembling minutely, so fine that it’s almost imperceptible. But she notices. And she notices the way that the one to the bloodied boy’s left--the fifth one in line--leans over ever-so-subtly when their father is looking away. Whispers something with the barest movement of his lips. And then, after a moment of hesitation, he links hands with his shaking brother, twining their fingers together.  Parker knows that whisper, knows what this is. She used to do that with her brother.  Used to hold Nick’s hand, just like that, when their fosters were scaring him, trying to provide comfort even despite the fear of being caught.

It’s not long before the others follow her gaze. She’s stopped engaging in the conversation entirely, is just staring at the television with a death glare, nose wrinkled.

“Parker, baby,” Hardison says.  “That’s your angry face.”

“I’m angry,” she says, and doesn’t elaborate.

“Got it,” Hardison takes it in stride, as he always does.

Eliot’s frowning at the TV.  Unlike Parker, his eye does jump to the most obvious thing first.  To the boy, no older than eleven or twelve probably, drenched head to toe with blood.  There’s no rips in his clothing; Eliot’s pretty sure the blood isn’t his. He’s standing up straight, but his shoulders are slightly hunched.  Like he’s injured.  Broken ribs, maybe?  And he’s been taught to hide them too. He’s also not the only one with that too-stiff posture. These kids aren’t standing up straight. They’re standing at attention.  Number One, their father calls one of them, and what are those? Fucking callsigns?  

Sophie and Nate are watching too.  Their faces are carefully blank.  They aren’t happy, Parker’s pretty sure, but they’re trying not to react.

“What the hell?” Hardison says slowly.  He’s the last one to catch on, though only by a very narrow margin.  He lacks Sophie and Nate’s cynicism, and the years of personal experience Parker and Eliot have, but he’s still too smart to not figure it out almost immediately.  And he is first one to abandon the stunned stillness that’s fallen over the rest of them, pulling his laptop out of his bag, already quickly tapping away at the keys.

“This ain’t right,” Eliot says, voice a growl in his chest.  “This is--this is--it’s televised child abuse.”

Sophie makes a quiet noise of agreement then. “It is,” she says, quietly disgusted. “Those poor children.”

Nate is still staring at the screen, lips pressed flat.

“This Reginald guy looks rich,” Parker says.  Then: “Can we kill him?”

Eliot chokes on his drink.

“How is this even legal?” Sophie asks.  She sounds curious, though not particularly surprised by the grievous violation of child protection laws before her. “It’s so...blatant.”

“Sir Reginald Hargreeves,” Hardison says, no longer typing.  “He is--oh shit.” And the typing resumes, faster and a little more panicked than before.

“Hardison?” Nate prods after a moment, giving Hardison a sidelong glance.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s all good,” Hardison says.  “The INTERPOL files on this guy are locked up tight though.  Almost tripped their security system there.  I didn’t, of course, but--”

“You couldn’t get in?” Eliot says, smirking.

“Yet,” Hardison says.  “Dammit, man, it’s been less than five minutes.  Give me a couple hours and that thing is mincemeat.  Metaphorically speaking, of course.  But I do see what’s going on here and,” he clicks his tongue, shaking his head in disappointment.  “Y’all, this is hinky.”

“Yes, I think we got that,” Nate says.  The corner of his lip twitches up.

“Yeah, yeah,” Hardison says.  “This guy has got friends everywhere.  No one knows how he got the kids, but it looks like he technically bought them--”

“He what?” Sophie sounds like she’s been suckerpunched.  Parker can’t think of the last time she heard Sophie sound so shocked.

“Oh yeah.  You think that’s bad?  The numbers aren’t code names  The numbers are their name names.  Like, legally.  I just found an article that said he ordered them by how useful he thinks they are, but judging by the adoption papers it was actually in the order he, uh,” Hardison coughs, “acquired them.”

Eliot is swaying where he stands.  “Common tactic.  He’s pitting them against one another so they’ll be easier to control.  It undermines the self worth of the ones lower on the scale and makes the ones that are higher up feel obligated to do what he wants.  Son of a bitch.”

“...And it looks like he leveraged their powers as excuse to gain exemptions from child protection laws,” Hardison continues like he hasn’t been interrupted.  “Claimed their abilities meant they don’t need the same safeguards.”

“That’s bullshit!” Eliot sounds thunderous.

“I know, buddy,” Hardison reaches over blindly, waving his hand around vaguely until he finds Eliot’s shoulder.  He gives it a comforting squeeze.  “I didn’t write it.”

Eliot heaves in a shuddering breath.  “That’s just--”

“Evil,” Sophie finishes.  

“I’m inclined to agree,” Nate says.  He’s not watching the TV anymore.  He’s staring off into the middle distance, arms crossed over his chest.

“Oh!” Parker perks up.  All the grief and distress that had been brewing on her face vanishes like storm clouds parting for the sun.  “Nate! Nate, are you scheming?  You look like you’re scheming.”

Nate makes a noncommittal grunt.  “It would be dangerous.”

“They’re in danger,” Sophie says softly, jerking her head in the television’s direction.

Eliot’s long-since gotten to his feet.  He’s pacing, and that’s how Parker knows he’s furious.  When Eliot is too angry to stand it, he has to move, has to find some way to handle the rage roiling under his skin.  Usually he cooks, chopping vegetables with furious aplomb.  And when he can’t cook, he paces.  

“They’re fucking child soldiers,” he says.  “I can’t--” he cuts himself off with a furious shake of the head.  I can’t believe, he was about to say, Parker thinks, but he had to stop because that’s not true.  Eliot knows better than anyone what the government--what the world does to people they find useful, whether its skill or power that makes them so.

“Y’all are behind,” Hardison says in sing-song.  “I’m already trying to burn this motherfucker down.”

“Hardison, do not tip our hand,” Nate says, snapping into his leader-voice automatically.  Parker grins.  He’s already got a plan, then.  She knew all that reluctance was just for show.  Sophie laughs, as clear and bright as the ringing of a bell, and even Eliot perks up.  

Hardison grumbles, closing his laptop and stuffing it back in his messenger bag.  

Nate is grinning a little too, though it’s that angry smile he gets sometimes when Parker knows he’s thinking about hurting bad people.  She understands.  She's wearing hers too right now.  Nate glances them all over, and for all the malice dripping off the knife’s edge of that smile, his eyes are soft.  Maybe even a little proud.

“Fine. Fine. You guys win,” Nate says, lifting his hands in defeat.  He’s putting on a show of being beleaguered, but Parker can hear the sparking anger in his voice, and oh, how could she have forgotten?  Sophie is so gently righteous, Hardison so achingly distressed, and Eliot so full of fire and fury that she almost didn’t notice Nate’s seething wrath, nearly forgot that Nate looks at every injured child in need of help and thinks of Sam.  “Everyone, get your things.  Hardison, get us some plane tickets.  Let’s go steal some children.”

“Okay, okay.  I ain’t complaining cause, like, fuck that guy,” Hardison says, slinging his bag over his shoulder.  “But stealing children?  Could you have made us sound anymore like kidnappers?”

“Hardison!”

“I’m just saying.”

[hoe-doroki]

steel and lace

minors do not interact

warnings: 18+, anal play, sex toys, voyeuristic fantasy, scratching, creampie

pairing: bakugou x fem!reader

wc: 3.8k

summary: The only one who manages to get Bakugou’s birthday right is you.

a/n: This is my addition to the Bakugou Birthday Bash collab (masterlist). Many thanks to @lady-bakuhoe​ for helping me flesh out the ideas with this story!! You were integral to this idea, love! And additional thanks to @whats-her-quirk​ and @therealvalkyrie​ for beta reading <333

edit: I no longer write x reader but here’s my old masterlist - mobile | desktop

Bakugou never took work off on his birthday.

Never. Why would he? Villains didn’t give a shit that this was the day the old hag had unceremoniously had him evacuated into a hospital room however many years ago. They didn’t give a shit that his friends—who were also heroes who should be fucking working, by the way—wanna come over to his house and surprise him. As though his reconnaissance-trained ears weren’t as fucking fine tuned at hearing idiots on the other side of the door as theirs.

What villains should care about was that he was a year older, wiser, and fucking stronger, and he was going to kick all their asses. That was what he told all his idiot friends every year when they asked him if he was going to take off work.

Every year he regretted it.

The idiots he works with really must not care about hero work, because every year they want to send him out on a field post sugar crash from some store-bought cake with his name on it. Or buy him gifts that he’ll probably toss in the trash on the way home. He’s not being rude; he just doesn’t need junk that he never would have bought himself in the first place.

Everyone is always grinning at him, wishing him a happy birthday—as though he’s any goddamn happier to see their ugly mugs flapping their lips at him—and trying to start stupid-ass conversations. If he doesn’t like small talk normally, why would he want it on his birthday?

And the singing.

If people really wanted to wish him a happy birthday, they’d find a way to do it silently while doing some respectable fucking hero work. Make his day easier.

But no, none of that was what happened. So he should have just stayed home. Let the villains have a fucking field day on April 20th, and he could have his real gift killing them all tomorrow on the 21st.

But, unfortunately, he was a dumbass and had gone to work anyway, like he’d learned nothing from the last many years of antics. And the continued antics had got him a little pissy. And when he was pissed off, his heart rate increased, his breathing grew heavier, and, of course, he sweat.

Well. Guess what happened?

“Bakugou, I am currently paying to treat burns and fractures on three villains. Care to explain?”

Best Jeanist was sitting in his office chair, blinding sunlight streaming in behind him. Late afternoon sun—darker in color but way more resentful towards human eyes, apparently. It was reflecting off of all of the neighboring glass corporate buildings, making Bakugou squint behind his mask.

Bakugou shrugged, petulant as he stood behind his chair instead of sitting in it. “Overkill.”

Best Jeanist nodded. “Did you…lose control?”

“Tch,” Bakugou scoffed. As if he ever lost control. “Villains were weaker than I thought.”

Bakugou felt the stare of that one fucking eye and stood firm. He knew he was looking at a suspension, hopefully just for a day or two. It wasn’t like he’d done anything terrible. Villains got hurt sometimes, just like pros did, and they got their care and then they got their justice. It’s not like Bakugou was violent on purpose. Anymore. And Jeanist sure as hell knew that, so it wouldn’t take Bakugou off the field for more than a slap on the wrist. He probably wouldn’t even be technically suspended. Just chained by the fucking dick to his desk with some paperwork.

“Just…” Bakugou braced for it, narrowing his eyes but keeping his snarl to a minimum. “Just be more careful next time. Shower and go home—see you tomorrow.”

Bakugou’s jaw dropped. He closed it quickly, trying not to look like Dunce Face in front of his boss, but in all that was real and true what? He was just about to say something—he didn’t know what, probably something insubordinate—when Best Jeanist took out his own paperwork and waved him away.

“Happy birthday, Bakugou.”

Oh. So that was it.

Bakugou grit his teeth. Happy fucking birthday indeed.

It was nothing. His brain told him over and over again that it was fucking nothing. He hadn’t been punished, he hadn’t even really done anything wrong; he just hadn’t been squeaky clean up to fucking code. He could still show up for work tomorrow, business as usual. He should be tickled fucking pink.

But he wasn’t. Special treatment for being the birthday boy? What was he? Five years old and given a pass after stealing the chicken nuggets off Deku’s plate? Jesus Christ.

And if he was honest, he was mostly pissed at himself. Sure, he could blame how the weather always seemed to sprint from spring to summer around his birthday every year, strengthening his quirk. He could blame the villains for being weak enough that they had no business even stepping foot in his neighborhood. But losing control of his quirk even a little—and it had been a little—was fucking amateur and he’d have to pencil in some extra time at the gym. Maybe snatch Shitty Hair for some sparring, and, unfortunately, probably nab an extra therapy session and talk about this anger thing again.

At least walking instead of sitting on that stifling, crowded train car was doing him some good. Let him cool off a bit before he got home and you saw that something was wrong. He was nearly entirely relaxed by the time he got to his building’s lobby, even having the grace to nod at the concierge—who didn’t know it was his birthday, thank God—before heading up the elevator.

When he got off on his floor, it suddenly occurred to him that you might have done something truly repulsive, like inviting his friends over. He could imagine Shitty Hair’s shitty fucking hair sticking up from behind your sofa as he tried to hide before leaping up and yelling surprise.

Well, if that was the case, then the surprise was going to be him kicking all his dumb friends out of the apartment with one foot. Ain’t no way he was going to host a party on his birthday.

It turned out his worry was for nothing, though, because when he turned the knob—fully braced to punch out some teeth with his other hand—he was greeted with a totally bare apartment.

Like barren.

For starters, it was perfectly clean. Bakugou kept a tidy house normally, but this was certainly cleaner than he’d left it this morning. But more than that, there was nothing extra lying around. No stupid friends. No presents. No cake or even the smell of one. It was almost disconcerting.

No, it was a relief. A relief because he didn’t want any of that stuff. He’d had the slice of cake at work—and was slightly hangry now to show for it—and wasn’t interested in having another. And even though you’d choose better gifts than the extras at work would, it was nothing he couldn’t buy himself. So no, this was perfect. He was absolutely not disappointed. Maybe a bit confused. But not disappointed.

He took his shoes off and set his things on the small table by the door. Then he wandered into the kitchen, downed some water, and thought about what he might make for dinner. He might have expected that you and he would make dinner together or maybe even that you would have surprised him with something, but he didn’t mind doing it alone. It wasn’t like he’d learned to cook just to find a housewife someday to con into doing it all for him.

He decided to go to the bedroom first to plug in his phone. He was just sliding it out of his pocket when he opened the door, saw you, and stopped short.

You were on the bed—not in bed, but on it—wearing a black zip up with his signature orange x over the chest. You were on your knees with your legs spread wide, looking him dead in the eye with a deadly smirk on your face, painted in bright lipstick.

“New prototype. You like?”

The two of you had met when you were scouted from his parents’ business to design the clothing for his first merchandise line. He’d sworn off dating you from the beginning, because the last thing he wanted was to give the old hag anything to say about, firstly, her being at all responsible for finding  him a girlfriend or secondly, the fact that dating a fashion designer would mean he was dating his parents. He’d said fuck that to anyone who would listen.

But you’d gotten his brain from the beginning. Your designs were all sick from the sketch to mock up to the prototypes you always wore for him. Maybe he was a simple man for falling for a girl dressed in his colors, aiming to please him, but fuck it. You were talented, too smart for your own good, and pretty as hell.

So what? Now he had a dream girlfriend and one more reason to fight with his mom. Net positive for sure.

Still, that jacket wasn’t a prototype. That was from his first official line, no doubt, and he’d seen you wear it hundreds of times. He knew from here how much it would smell like detergent and how much like you.

You caught his eyes, raised your brows once, and then pulled the zip on the sweatshirt.

Underneath was nothing but lace and ribbon, contrasting the black and orange of the sweatshirt with moss green outlining your silhouette. The moss green from his gauntlets and his belt was caged around you in the thinnest strips of fabric, scraps of floral barely covering your breasts and pussy. The lingerie was an all-in-one, with the tiny bra connected to the panties by a few ribbons crossing over your belly. Not hiding a damn thing, but showing it off for all its worth.

“Fuck,” Bakugou groaned when the sweatshirt hit the bed, your arms still in the sleeves, but the look underneath now fully revealed to him. He could feel the blood going to his dick, just seeing you on display like that getting him up to half mast in seconds.

“Not a lot of coverage on this version,” you mused, sticking your thumb under a bra strap. “Maybe an edit for the second try?”

Bakugou growled, taking a step forward, but you weren’t done just yet.

“I was also thinking maybe full panties next time,” you said, turning around, sitting on your heels. The sweatshirt hung just below your ass, framing round cheeks that were caged by thin elastic crosses, and that was it. Not so much as a triangle of fabric to speak of. “Maybe write: Property of Dynamight on them? Or is that too much text?”

That was all it took for Bakugou to pounce. One arc of his fist had his shirt thrown with a smack to the floor and then his hands were on your shoulders, spinning you face up as he pushed you flat on the bed.

“You know I don’t like unnecessary words,” he growled.

And then he was kissing you, a hand running up the falke stockings pinned on your thighs as you pulled your arms out of the sweatshirt. One leg came up automatically to wrap around his hip, and Bakugou began rutting against your center, fully hard already. On his second grinding thrust, his pants snagged on the scrap of lace you were wearing. Wetness was already glistening on his trousers and he moved his thumb down to your core, groaning at what he felt.

“Crotchless panties?” he mumbled against your mouth. “You’re making this too easy, sweetheart.”

“Shouldn’t have to work so hard on your birthday,” you mewled.

There was a rumble in Bakugou’s throat, half scoff, half chuckle. “Yeah, remind me of that next year, will you?”

You were soaked already—the swipe of his thumb told you that much. Either you’d gotten really excited when he’d texted you that he was coming home early, or you’d…gotten yourself excited at some point after. Either way, it meant that foreplay could wait for round two.

He pulled his thumb away from your core and pressed it against your lip, smudging what lipstick had survived the kisses down your chin. You were half ruined already. You stuck your tongue out and licked at essence on his thumb before sucking it into your mouth, eyes wide as you looked up at him. Fuck, he could feel himself straining against his pants, grinding circles against your half-bare cunt for a spot of relief.

After you licked him clean, he took his hand back, leaving your mouth open and wanting as he began to fuss with the front of his pants. He caught your smudged lips again, holding your jaw with one hand as he pushed his pants down with the other. He pulled his lower half away from you, kicking off the pants—hadn’t bothered with boxers for the commute home—and let them slide off the edge of the bed.

“Ready?” he asked.

Your smile was big and you bit the tip of your tongue, nodding your head twice. That was all he needed. He grabbed his cock in his fist and slid it through your wetness just once, and then he pushed himself in.

Immediately, he felt the drag of something hard and angled against your lower wall right along his cock, pressing from tip to base as he slid home inside of you.

“Woah,” he groaned. “What the fuck?”

You giggled, the action making your walls flutter against him.

“Got myself a new toy,” you said coyly, wrapping your legs around his hips. “Promise you can get yourself something pretty on my birthday too.”

Bakugou reach a hand around your thigh, feeling the elastic garter pulled taut against the stockings that were rubbing so deliciously against his back and his hips. He grabbed a handful of your ass, and the tips of his fingers felt a rounded edge of warm metal slid just between your ass cheeks.

“You fucking naughty minx.” Bakugou grinned, showing all his teeth, rearing back out of you before thrusting back in, feeling the novel pressure of the toy on the way out and back.

No wonder you had been so wet to begin with. You must have lubed yourself up before putting in that butt plug—which wasn’t small, from what he could feel of it. He could imagine you, one leg up on the sink, ass sticking out as you fingered yourself, mouth dropping open when you inserted the toy. How cold it would have been when it first touched your pert little hole and how you’d gotten it all warm for him as you waited with your little secret for him to get home.

“It’s curved to hit prostates,” you gasped as Bakugou rocked hard, steady thrusts into you. “In case you’re interested.”

The thought, much to Bakugou’s surprise, sent a thrill right through his belly down to his dick. He couldn’t help but slam rapidly into you, making your eyes roll back. Fuck, was that something he wanted? It wasn’t something he’d ever thought about, and he didn’t have the mind right now to ponder it.

“God you feel so big.”

“You feel so tight, sweetheart,” Bakugou grunted, refusing to acknowledge the fresh heat that was on his cheeks after your previous comment. “Squeezing me from all sides.”

The butt plug left it so there was barely enough room in your pussy for his cock to pump in and out. The pressure was hard on one side, making him fucking twitch every time the head of his cock caught against it, leading him to opt for long, deep thrusts in and out of you. It was so good that he didn’t even care if the only present he got for his birthday was a little hunk of stainless steel halfway up your ass. He’d gotten home five minutes ago and already he could feel his balls tightening, threatening to bust a nut.

“Just think of it, Katsuki,” you said, your voice dreamy as he fucked you raw. “All the women wearing this set, thinking of you when they show it off for their partners. All wishing that you were the one fucking them. You’d like that, wouldn’t you, baby? But they’ll never have anything but their husband’s sad cock that they pretend is yours.”

“Fuck,” Bakugou growled, putting a hand on the headboard and nearly splintering it in his grip. You were riling him up and it made him want to press his palm flat against the burnished oak and let off his quirk, send shards flying. His hand was already drenched with more sweat than it should have been, just like with those villains earlier. Goddamn this time of year. He couldn’t help it; his quirk begged for it. He was in dire need of release of some kind, and it wasn’t like he could cum yet. He had to know how your pussy felt when it convulsed around him, ass cheeks tensing and squeezing that toy hard against his cock until he was spurting into you.

Bakugou let off a few crackling pops from his palm, moaning as relief filled him, the tension lessened for a moment. A faint smell of wood smoke spread through the room, slightly embittered by the resin blackening around his hand. One more scorch mark on the bed frame. You groaned underneath him, taken by the sight of Bakugou’s ever-tight control slipping for you. You knew he’d fuck you through the bed until the rest of the frame gave way if he wanted. You’d both be flat on a busted mattress and he’d keep going until he felt you clench around him.

“How’s that sound, Katsu?” you continued, your voice growing higher as Bakugou took his hand off the headboard and pressed four fingers, still sweaty and heated from his quirk, against the lace covering your clit. It was soaked through. “A-Ah, you’d like the idea of a woman home alone, dressed up just for you, fucking herself on the dildo she hides in the back of your closet, screaming out your name and hoping to God that her neighbors don’t hear?”

Bakugou couldn’t do the long, slow thrusts anymore. Your legs had grown tighter around his waist, your calves soft and silken against his ass as he kept his thrusts deep. The butt plug was rubbing against the base of his cock as he pounded into you, his fingers swiping over your clit with little finesse, but speed and steady pressure making up for it.

“But no matter…” you continued, the words coming out in little huffs as you panted with your head thrown back. Bakugou couldn’t resist leaning down and licking a line up the length of your neck, biting your earlobe when he got to the top, “no dildo, no matter how expensive, no matter how long and fat, will be good enough. The whole time…they’ll know they’re missing out. Oh, fuck.”

All of a sudden, your thighs were squeezing tight against his hip bones, arms thrown over his back and finger scratching hot lines that would mark him even more as yours tomorrow. Then you were gasping, walls squeezing and Bakugou fought against your grip to pull out just enough so that the metal toy was rubbing just over the cleft of his head with every convulsion.

He didn’t stand a chance. There was hardly any warning before he was cumming into you, streaks of his seed dribbling out of you. He couldn’t even pump himself through it; you were gripping him so tightly and, more than that, he didn’t want to move. Everything was white hot, so he just waited it out, barely moving save for where his hand was still rubbing over your clit.

Eventually you stopped him, grabbing his wrist just as the grip of your cunt loosened around him. Then you brought his hand, glistening with moisture, up to your mouth, and broadly laved your tongue from the base of his fingers to the tips, looking him dead in the eye. You then brought his hand down to your neck, and allowed him to streak the combined fluids across and down your décolletage.

Fuck—there was no way he was going to work on his birthday next year. He’d let villains overtake the city first.

“They’ll know they’re missing out,” you breathed, and it took Bakugou a second to figure out that you were continuing your voyeuristic fantasy from before, playing it out to the end, “They might even think they understand. But the only one who will truly know, is me.”

You smiled, your eyes and grin both heavy, sleepy, sated.

“Got that fucking right,” Bakugou said, pulling out of you, his cum already dripping down your ass. He eyed it, only catching a glimpse of the glinting metal plug before your legs fell to the bed, spread and limp. He smacked your hip lightly with one hand. “Roll over.”

In no mood to argue, you flipped willingly, ass up, plug still hidden from view. The lingerie was damp in some spots from where your wetness had spilled from your pussy. He leaned his mouth towards one of the strips of elastic stretching against the swell of your ass and bit. You gasped, back arching, and Katsuki smirked as he pulled away.

“A fucking lingerie line?”

A chuckle escaped your throat. “It was supposed to be a joke, but now…”

Katsuki pinched the elastic with his fingers and snapped it, watching the slight jiggle of your cheeks as you jolted. “No.”

“But Katsuki,” you whined.

“Mm,” he amended, as close to ‘maybe’ as you were going to get. You both could always talk about the idea—truly ridiculous idea—later. Katsuki put a hand on one cheek under the strips of lingerie and spread it.

There was the plug, a stainless steel handle. It was thin and shaped like an oblong donut, not like one of those cheap bejeweled things. This one, even just what he could see of it, screamed quality, and, for a moment, Bakugou wondered again what it would be like to wear. If you’d gotten it in, he sure as fuck could. And he did hold a certain anatomical advantage in using it.

He put his thumb and forefinger to the phalange and gave the toy a twist, pressing it just slightly deeper into your hole. You groaned, your voice low and deep in the pillow like when he gave you a back massage. He smirked and kept at it. Seemed this was a birthday gift for him after all.

“Katsu, don’t tease,” you moaned. “Sensitive.”

Bakugou, however, had no mercy. He flipped you over again, pulling a little yelp from you, and then picked you up bridal style, carrying you off the bed.

“Where are we going?” you asked, your voice suddenly much more awake.

“Shower,” he answered simply. He squeezed the meat of your upper thigh. Not quite your ass but close enough for the point to be made. “I’m not done with my present yet.”

[junoie]

𖨂 THE BICKERING OF BEASTS!

🕹⸝⸝ ♡ ꒱﹕ PLOT \ the prefect caught the attention of a certain lion and dragon, call it simping or being 'down bad.' whatever it is, the heartslabyul duo and grim have made it a competition and compete they will.

© JUNOIE, 3.31.2022. all graphics were created by me, do not steal. please check tags for more info.

A CLEAN BOARD WITH TWO NAMES!

Being an object of interest for a lion and dragon, isn’t as dangerous as it sounds. At any and all costs they’d keep you safe, that was the only thing they agreed upon. It wasn’t dangerous, no, it was quite amusing how they took it upon themselves to go to any lengths if it meant impressing you.

You stared at the mountain of gifts in the reflection of the mirror. You weren’t ignorant to what the Lion and Dragon dorm leaders were doing: trying to buy your approval with nice things, helping at every chance they got, goodness, they even showed up to class if you had it together! You chuckled at the thought of them, pinching your nose with your index finger and thumb. Your favorite duo and familiar were sorting the gifts (the ones from malleus and from leona) and counted how many from each.

“Finally! We’re done!” Ace jumped to his feet while Deuce did a final count.

Grim yawned and stretched on Ace’s head, supposedly he took this time to take a nap, “Done? Done already?”

“Yes, though, you weren’t much of a help,” Ace complained.

You rolled your eyes and lifted a finger to point at the large whiteboard across from them, “Now that you’ve finished, explain that for me would you?”

“Yea, sure.” Deuce rose and wrote two words on the whiteboard, separated by a two lines line:

“That looks like a score board?” You noted, matter-of-factly.

“Because, it is.” Ace said, “We will use it to track the competition!”

“What competition?” You knew what competition, you just hoped it’d end if you never acknowledged it. The three stared at you with looks that made you feel stupid, as if they read your mind.

“The competition for your heart, Yn! It starts… Now.” Ace announced while Deuce wrote the date on the board.

From then on the three became your (unofficial) scorekeepers. Everywhere you went at least one of them followed closely behind, when the others couldn’t. Of course, if you asked they’d back away but for the time being you’d humor them.

LET THE GAMES BEGIN!

“Yn.” You looked up from your book to Leona and followed his glaring eyes to find Malleus, the one who called you. You were studying while Leona laid in the beanbags of the library.

“Oh, Mally, hi!” – Leona scoffed and rolled his eyes at the nickname, Malleus smiled as he always did at the sound of it. – “I was wondering if you’d assist me in my research for our Astrology Class?”

Your eyes widened in surprise, “You need my help?”

“Yes, the stars themselves have never really interested me, therefore, my knowledge on them is… lacking.”

“Actually, Yn is helping me with my project. Ask Lilia or something.” Leona forced out, he didn’t fancy the idea of you and the dragon working together, much less alone together.

“Woah Woah, we could work together, right? The maximum in a group is three, so?” – You let them draw the conclusions in their heads – “Let’s work together!”

They gave you mixed emotions, Malleus looked relieved that he’d be able to intervene between any advances Leona would make on you; and Leona was quite pissed off by that. Nevertheless, they both agreed with:

“Oh, splendid idea, child of man.”

“Ugh, fine. If we fail it’s his fault.”

SOMEWHERE NEARBY જ

"Hello." The trio nearly screamed when a certain fae teleported in front of them. Ace, the first one to recover, pulled them all behind the bookshelf.

"What the hell, man?" Ace whispered, glancing up to where you were, just to make sure you didn't notice.

"Technically, I'm not 'man' but we can clear that up later." – Lilia straightened out his clothing before proceeding. – "You're spying on my dorm leader."

They blinked, Grim was the first to speak. "Well, we aren't here for that weird dragon guy... we're spying on Yn."

"Why?"

"Because it is out job as the SKT?" Ace interjected.

Lilia frowned, "SKT?"

"ScoreKeeping Trio." Deuce answered, taking over, "You see that?" – he pointed in your direction. "We are scorekeeping to see which one is able to win Yn's heart, Yn called it a 'competition' and it stuck."

"So Yn started this?"

"So now you're giving them our credit?!" Grim was far from happy to hear Lilia's question, but he maintained a low voice.

"No no, I was clarifying." Lilia dismissed.

#THE SCOREKEEPER TRIO’S GOOGLE DOC:

3/30 (3:30 PM) - +1 FOR MALLEUS!

ACE: malleus was happy with what yn chose and showed no hesitance in agreeing! he also

GRIM: AND HE LOOKED GENUINE 2 😩‼

DEUCE: grim, why those emojis?

GRIM: YALL CALL IT 'DADDY MATERIAL?' 😍🤪

GRIM: PLS YALL THINKIN IT 😩 😇

CALLING ALL REPRESENTATIVES!

So it started, Challenge One for Malleus and Leona (we’ll call this ‘An Astronomical Impact.’) The challenge went on even when you weren’t present. I’ll let Ruggie explain this one, though. 

You sat in the cafeteria with your lunch, waiting for the ADeuce Duo before you started eating, because unlike Grim you had manners. You played with your food with a rather bored expression when someone cleared their throat somewhere around you. You looked up: Grim was still devouring his food and the Duo were still in line, you looked behind you and locked eyes with Ruggie (the vice dorm leader of Savanaclaw.) 

He tossed up the wrapped sandwich in his hand and caught it, grinning from ear to ear at you, “Heya, Yn!” 

“Hello, Ruggie?” – You smiled when he nodded – “We have a few classes together… we’ve also met in the Botanical Garden.”

“Bingo! I just wanted to officially meet who’s the cause of my dorm leader’s sudden care about school, and to thank you, of course.” 

“Oh? What do you mean?” Your smile turned to one of confusion, but stayed a smile regardless.

“You haven’t seen? Leona is actually getting good grades, many say it’s thanks to you! They say the same for that dragon dude.” Ruggie waved off the topic of the latter rather quickly. “Anyways, I gotta get Leona his lunch before he gets cranky- er, I mean, uh, impatient. If I find the time, I’ll see you later.” 

“Oh, of course.” You nodded, respectfully and the hyena walked off.

“He seems nice,” Ace noted, setting his tray down next to you, Deuce doing the same but next to Grim. 

“Yea-”

“We shouldn’t trust it!” Grim exclaimed before you could get anything out, “Leona might be using his vice leader’s kindness to get to us!”

“Yn.” Deuce corrected.

“No, us.” Ace butted in, “If either of them do start dating Yn-”

“He starts dating all of us,” Grim completed to which they fist bumped.

You shook your head, “Since when?”

“Since we became your SKT?” Ace explained, “ScoreKeeping Trio!” 

“It symbolizes a new level of closeness between us all that your average person can’t achieve!” Grim added.

You and Deuce were still confused, but he seemed to get it a tad bit more than you. “Oh, so we’re like Yn’s family?”

Your face lit up at that question, “Yes, of course you all are!”

The other two nodded, “Our point exactly.”

With that the bell rang and lunch was concluded. You all departed, You and Ace walked together to your next class. The day continued like that, Ace switched with Grim and with Grim you walked off campus to meet the trio.

Or were supposed to.

"Hello."

"OW!" You bumped into someone's forehead, somebody who wasn't hanging upside down a moment ago.

Grim jumped into battle position at the sight of Lilia, "Hey! It's the weirdo from the library!"

"Weirdo? Hm, not quite that either. We'll work on it." Lilia flipped over gracefully so his feet were on the same ground as yours.

"I've met your cat and little friends?–"

"Hey, who're you calling little?!" Grim defended, "Look at yourself!"

LIlia ignored his statement and motioned for you both to follow him, "Allow me to walk you to Heartslabyul while we talk. Ahem, as I was saying, I'm Lilia Vanrouge. Vice dorm leader of Diasomnia."

"Oh!" You snapped, with your fingers, "I've heard about you from Mally!"

"Mally?"

"It's their nickname for your dorm leader, do I need to explain it?" Grim answered, still not thrilled with the fact Lilia was walking you to Heartslabyul.

"Ah, I see." – Lilia nodded – "Hopefully all good things?"

"Yes of course, I hear you're a great dorm leader." You nudged his shoulder.

Lilia's posture straightened more than it already was at your compliment, if that was even possible. "Thank you."

For the rest of the way you walked in silence, talking here and there,, but it wasn't awkward it was a comfortable quiet.

"This is where I leave. Enjoy your time here," Lilia bowed politely and teleported away, just outside the heart shaped bushes of Heartslabyul.

"Thank you, Lilia, we will." You nodded.

"Yea yea, whatever." Grim rolled his eyes, not stopping.

You stared in amazement, the air in which Lilia just occupied was now empty with no trace of him. Teleportation, a fascinating thing.

In a moment you were within HEartslabyul walls

In a moment you were within Heartslabyul walls, in another you were in the 1st year's chambers, and in the last you were in Ace’s room where Deuce and he waited.

“Hey, guys.” You tossed your bag onto the floor and crashed on his bed. “Man, today was a long day.”

“You took a while, did you get food or something?” Ace watched Grim go through your bag looking for any leftover snacks.

“No, we didn’t.” – You rolled onto your stomach – “Lilia walked us here, he is as kind and Malleus made him out to be.”

“Kind?” They all asked at the same time.

“Did you not hear him call me a cat?!” 

“I’m sorry, but who could blame him?” You raised a brow. “Would you prefer him call you a rat or a seal?”

“No! But I still don’t like him.” 

“Me neither, he gave us a scare at the library.”

“Did he say why he gave you a scare?”

“Something about spying on his dorm leader,” Deuce explained.

“Which you were?” 

“No, we were spying on you and you were aware!” Grim started tossing your things out of your bag in search.

“Hey-”

“What did you think of him?” Deuce asked, pulling out his whiteboard from his bag.

“I already said, very polite and well mannered!”

“Yea… sure. What about Ruggie?” Ace looked at you curiously.

“He was kind, nice to talk to as well. Going out of his way to let me know Leona is improving in school.” You smiled at the thought of it.

#THE SCOREKEEPER TRIO’S GOOGLE DOC:

3/31 ( 3:10 ) - +1 FOR LEONA!

GRIM: YN HAS LOST IT YALL

GRIM: ‘VERY POLITE AND MANNERED’ DEUCE’S ASS

DEUCE: why mine??

ACE: today yn met lilia, they claimed he was ‘very nice and polite.’ however they also met ruggie earlier and found him ‘kind, and nice to talk to as well.’ they also found the fact that he went out of his way to tell them leona is improving in school.

GRIM: I LIKED RUGGIE 2 😇💪 IF HE STICKS AROUND WHEN YNNIE AND LEONA GET MARRIED HE’LL BE GOOD BRO IN LAW MATERIAL 😍💋

DEUCE: please, grim, why are you talking like that?

THE IMPORTANCE OF THOUGHT! 

“Malleus!” You ran to catch up with Diasomnia’s dorm leader in the hallways before your last class. “The teacher said we have Astrology as a free period to work on our assignments.”

“Oh, is that so?”

You nodded, “We’re gonna be stargazing tonight in Savanaclaw. It’s our job to get the supplies from Uncle Sam’s!”

“And what is Leona doing?”

You gave him a tired look, “We both already know the answer to that. Now let’s go before the line gets too long.”

“Have you picked which star you're doing yet or are you going for extra credit and doing a planet’s moon?”

“If I am to study the sky at night I may as well get the most I can out of it. How about you, Yn?”

“I’m actually doing a full study of what we call ‘zodiac signs’ in my–” You paused for a moment. Where you came from, was often referred to as ‘Yn’s world’ though it didn’t feel like your world. it was just another alternate world in the universe, not your world. at least not anymore. “no, the other world.” 

“Do elaborate, please.”

“Well, you know how we were taught that the alignment of the stars may affect one’s mood? In the other world some believe that the stars in the sky when you’re born can predict your personality.”

“Foolishness.” The dragon fae pinch the bridge of his nose, shaking his head in a slight confusion.

“To an extent they were accurate,” You explained, “The way they explained your personality would be very broad and fit many people, but anyways what are you gonna get from Sam’s?”

“The usual. I’m under the assumption we will stay up late so ice cream should keep me awake.”

“Ooh! It’s a little humid in Savanaclaw so ice cream will be great!” 

Soon after that you reached Mr. S’s Mystery Shop, Malleus opened the door for you.

“Heyo, kiddos! Done with school already?” Sam asked from the counter.

“Hi, Uncle Sam! Yea, we have a free period in Astrology for our assignment! We just need to pick up a few things.” You explained and turned to look at Malleus but he was already gone.

“Alright then! I’ll let you get to it!”

SOMEWHERE NEARBY જ

Malleus walked through the refrigerated section and saw pre - prepared meat dishes, instinctively he grabbed one that looked familiar without putting in much thought before continuing to the freezers. He saw his favorite and grabbed another that he’d see you enjoy a while back. He’d placed all the items in a basket and strode over to the astrology supplies section when he stumbled upon an old fashioned compass watch. His head perked up at the sound of your footsteps approaching, quickly putting the watch under the pile of food that he’d gathered.

“Malleus! There you are, I was looking for you!” Your pace slowed at the sight of him, your eyes glued to the familiar tub of ice cream you always got. “You got the snacks!” 

“Yes, now it is up to you to get the equipment necessary for our endeavors.” 

You thought for a minute, not immediately understanding his statement, “Oh, the telescope and stuff, right.”

“Yes,” he nodded, “I’ll follow you.”

You led him the rest of the way to the telescope section and picked out the smallest one that would be of most use. “I’ll need to go to Ignihyde now to ask Idia to modify this… We split up here. You go to Savanaclaw and ask Ruggie where the fridge is.” You told the dragon fae while you paid.

“Who is Ruggie? Why would I ask him instead of the dorm leader?”

You sighed, “Ruggie if the vice dorm leader, you can ask Leo where as long as you promise not to start a fight with him.” 

“Where can I most likely find this Ruggie figure?”

“He’s usually just around, now hurry before the ice cream melts!”

FOLLOWING MALLEUS જ

When the human was out of sight, Malleus used a familiar spell to teleport to the Savanaclaw sands. He dusted off his clothes before making his way inside. Just his luck a certain hyena was just running off to his next chore. When their eyes met Ruggie stopped dead in his tracks, mostly in confusion.

“Uh, can I help you? You look… really out of place.” 

“Yes, I’m looking for Ruggie, vice dorm leader of this dorm? Can you help me find him, Child of..” Malleus’ words died on his lips as he realized the other wasn’t exactly one hundred percent human.

“You don’t need help, you’ve found him. How can I help you?”

“Oh, good. Yn told me to find you and ask where the freezer is,” he lifted the bag slightly, “We are stargazing for astrology with the dorm leader.”

“Okay, right this way.” Ruggie took the bag and looked through it, noting its contents. “I’ll also show you to the lounge where you can wait for Yn so you don’t have to see Leona.”

“Hm, thank you. Your assistance is much appreciated.”

MEANWHILE IN IGNIHYDE જ 

“Idia! Yn is here to see you?” Ortho knocked on his older brother’s door and you both waited patiently. The sound of crashing took place inside much to your concern but Ortho just shrugged it off.

“Uh - Yn, he - hello! H - how - er, no - What - what brings you here?” Idia opened the door, the sound of a lamp falling just within.

“I needed to ask for your help,” – You held up the telescope – “Can you modify it?”

“To see farther,” Ortho added to which you nodded. 

“Yea - yea, of course I can.” He rambled a bit studying the technology before disappearing into his room.

“Would you like a cold beverage?” Ortho offered, “He’ll ring me when he’s finished.”

“I’d love one. What do you have?”

“Water.”

“Perfect!”

LMAOO THEY ALL SLEPT TOGETHER!

While Idia worked you took that time to catch up with Ortho. Recently you've been too busy with Leona and Malleus (don't even get me started with the other trio) that you haven't really had time to talk to him. Right on time, the younger's phone rang.

"Idia's finished! We should head over before he thinks there was an apocalypse or something else absurd." You nodded, understanding that Ortho actually wasn't joking. Silently you arrived at the dorm leader's room and again Ortho knocked on the door. "Idia? We're here!"

"Here!" Idia shoved his hand out the door, holding the much more modern looking telescope in his hands, which you took gratefully.

"Thank you gentlemen, for your help today, I'll see myself out."

"Bye, Yn! It was nice talking to you!"

"Bye - bye, Ortho! You as well. Thanks again, Idia!"

A muffled 'yea, sure' came from his room and at that you left.

You stepped onto the grounds of Savanaclaw when the sun was already setting, your breath unsteady and legs sore and aching from the long walk. You walked inside and headed to the Lounge area to get the ice cream from the freezers in the kitchen. "Oh, Malleus, you're here!"

"Yes, Child of Man. Ruggie, a helpful vice dorm leader he is, suggested I'd stay here instead of going to Leona's without you."

"See? Smart. I'll get the ice cream and be back in a moment" You grinned and went to retrieve your snacks. You rushed outside, and tilted your head in the direction of the lion's room suggesting you Malleus would follow. The tall male rose from his seat and grabbed a the grocery bag and your school bag leaving you with a lighter load, "Thank you, it was getting heavy."

"I assumed," he nodded and followed you to Leona's room.

"We're here!" You announced into the seemingly empty room upon your arrival. You set the telescope down and Malleus did the same with his load, "Leona?"

"Here." Leona stood by his huge windows, "I moved a bunch of things so we'd have more space."

"I appreciate that," you grinned stepping over to take a look outside, you stepped on the low windowsill and gave him a head pat, one he'd make sure to rub in the other's face.

"I was able to get us a smaller telescope that'll work just as one of the bigger ones, thanks to Idia!" You explained returning to where you left your things "Wait, Malleus did you get something for Leona?"

"No, I don't recall doing so.." The dragon fae, frowned trying to think back to his shopping at Sam's.

"Oh, shit it slipped my mind, I was looking for Malleus and then the telescope! I'm sorry I completely forgot to get you something!" You rushed to your wallet, "I'll go right now, what do you want?"

Leona looked at both of you and deadpanned. "What are you guys talking about?" Leona held up a wrapped pre - prepared meat dish, it was the same one he'd have Ruggie get when they had it though, it was rare.

"Oh, your favorite? I didn't get that," you let your statement linger and looked at Malleus, with confusion. That was awfully nice of him, You thought, But he'd do that for Leona?

"It appears I did, Yn, though I don't recall doing so." Malleus dismissed. "I also put spoons in there in case we'd forget to grab some while we were down there.

"Wow, you're a lifesaver."

Leona was too hung up on the fact the Malleus Draconia, his sworn rival, had gotten him his favorite food without realizing it to get annoyed with the compliment you gave the other. He stood there thinking, the want to sleep long gone with the replacement of shock. Wait, how did he know his favorite food? Was this apart of his plan to exploit him –

"Ace, Deuce, Lilia, Ruggie, and Grim! Get the fuck out of that tree, right this instant before I go other there and launch you all to space!"

Leona looked at Malleus then to you, surprised by your volume. He saw what you were yelling at, it was a palm tree with decorations? There was a red blob, a blue one, a small grey on top of a pinkish ombre one, and lastly a sandy yellow one.

"Yn, they do that a lot. Does it bother you?" Malleus asked, taking a seat next to you and staring off at the horizon. He opened his tub of ice cream and grabbed a spoon.

"No?" – Leona copied Malleus's action and sat down, opening his snack and listening – "At least not really. I know that it's all a joke and should end sometime soon."

"What's the joke?" Leona asked, mouth full.

"Something stupid. Let's start working on the reports, then we can do the drawing of the stars and what not later." You grabbed your school bag and sat down between them.

For hours you worked before any of you were able to get a clear view of the stars in the night sky. The boys finished their reports far before you did, though it wasn't surprising considering they grew up under these skies. You helped the lion out by drawing his star, completing his assignment, because he fell asleep in your lap. More hours passed, and so did Malleus. He fell asleep, slouched against the wall. You sat in the cool, humid room of Leona's not long before you fell asleep, too.

"So y'all slept together?" Grim concluded at the end of your explanation.

The eyes of everyone present, except Grim, widened. "GRIM!"

"What?" He looked at you all dumb founded, "OH- damn, y'all dirty minded. Holy smokes!"

You shook your head while Ace spoke up, "Let's not call it 'sleeping together,' okay?"

"Yea, okay." Grim shrugged, returning to his lunch.

"You finished that report already? I'm still working on it," Deuce groaned, dropping his head onto the empty table space in front of him.

Ace laughed, "I finished it the day it was assigned."

"Oh, really? Never took you as the studious type." Grim looked up at the red head, mouth full.

"Eat with your mouth closed Grim," You scolded. "Anyways, it was actually a lot easier than it seems."

"Or you're all just really smart."

"Me and Ynnie? Sure, Ace? Wouldn't push it."

"Shut up." Ace rolled his eyes, "Are you done with that Yn?"

"Yes, thank you," You handed Ace your tray and he threw both of yours away.

"Hey, you know what we need to do?" Grim asked, finishing his meal as well.

"Hm?" You hummed, standing and stretching.

"We need to go to your dorm to update the white board."

"He's right," Deuce lifted his head, "We should."

"Wanna ditch?" You suggested when Ace returned, "I'm tired and you guys need to do your KST thing."

"It's ES - KAY - TEE," Ace pronounced as you three made your way out of the cafeteria, in silent agreement of ditching your next classes.

#THE SCOREKEEPING TRIO'S GOOGLE DOC:

3/31 ( 22:00 ) - +1 FOR BOTH! +1 FOR MALLEUS!

GRIM: LMAOOO THEY SLEPT TOGETHER ALL OF THEM 🤣💋‼

DEUCE: yes, but they all actually slept..

ACE: yn, malleus, and leona all had a successful study date. points for both because they both contributed somewhat to make the night productive! despite this, malleus had help yn more directly, in other words they spent more time together and he helped them more.

GRIM: WHY TF YOU TYP LIKE A ROSS BOT 🤔

STAY AFTER CLASS!

Crewel was the type to mind his own business. However there were times he got curious, concerned even–

The start of the school year wasn't just different because you were their new prefect. Malleus and Leona started attending almost all their classes. There was a clear dislike for one another Crewel saw that as well. He saw how they silently fought for your attention, even if it was just a wave, when you brought papers in from another teacher. He saw how one was always later than the other and how the early one didn't seemed pleased with that, he never understood why until he later found out the late one was late because they took turns walking you to your other morning classes.

– and this time he was concerned for you.

"Mx. Ln, do me a favor and take a seat would you?" Crewel stopped you from stepping out of the classroom just as everyone else was.

"Oh? Okay." You looked at the door then back to your teacher, but still obeyed, "Is something the matter?"

"You tell me." – Crewel stacked some papers and put them aside, making space for him to sit on his desk – "Has anyone been bothering you recently? Intimidating or possibly making you uncomfortable?"

"No, why?" You frowned.

"Well, I'll be honest. Recently I've noticed a big change in a certain pair of students and you appear to be the cause of it. I just wasn't to make sure there was no funny business and that they aren't making our new pup uncomfortable."

"Huh," you thought for a minute no one came to mind at his words.

Your thoughts were interrupted when somebody opened the door, Leona peaked inside with a look of relief when he saw you, "There you are, Yn. Was just looking for you." – he shot Crewel a tense nod – "I'll wait outside."

"Thank you, Mr. Kingscholar." Crewel waited to for the door to click closed before giving you a look as if to say 'him.'

"Oh- Oh! Leona and Malleus? No no they're not bothering me at all!" You put on a smile, "Don't worry about them, really. They're just... quite competitive, at everything."

"Alright, I'll take your word for it, pup." He rose, signaling the conclusion of the conversation, "You're dismissed."

Your steps towards the door were quick. You let out a breath of relief that you'd been holding in once you were outside.

"What was that about, Herbivore?" Leona asked, pushing himself off the wall.

"Uhm, I'll show you," you sighed, making your way to Ramshackle. The lion followed and there was silence. You thought of how you'd explain the SKT and the scorekeeping nonsense the duo started. All of which was based upon the assumption that they like you, and if they didn't? You knew from the start their claims were baseless but hearing it so much, you started to believe it. The school grounds were pretty much empty, class ended about an hour ago now and Ramshackle was getting clearer by the second. You were slightly surprised by the lion's silence and repeatedly you looked back to make sure he was still following you. "Watch your step," you mumbled, ascending up the stairs and dreading the moments to come.

"Look at this." You tossed your bag to the side, "A scoreboard."

"And I'm winning by one, great." Leona grinned at the board much to your confusion.

"What do you mean great?"

"Well," – Leona snapped a picture, before erasing the last mark on his making their points even – "Malleus and I actually needed to talk to you about this."

"You knew?!"

"Technically, not of this exactly. We were thinking that why date one of us...?"

You frowned, knowing what he was implying, but, "Would it work?"

"Herbivore," Leona sighed, "Do you really think we aren't capable of making it work? You just have to give us a yes or no. All your call and it doesn't have to be right now. Sleep on it, I can join-"

You glared at him, shutting him up quite quickly. Sleep on it you would.

[five-rivers]

Technically Still a Crime

For @nocturna-starr

“My dude,” said Danny, “I am really, really sorry about your window, but there are only so many ways to tell you that I’m not going to rat you out to the government for…” He let his eyes roam over the room full of t-shirts. “Honestly, I don’t know what I’d even rat you out for. Did you steal these from the mall or something?”

Danny had been doing his normal ghost hunting routine when he’d been thrown into a mostly empty office building by an oversized mountain-lion ghost. He’d caught the ghost, but by that time the window was a lost cause, and everyone inside the not-actually-uninhabited building was freaking out about the IRS or the police or something.

At least, the people in the room were. Maybe if there were any people in other parts of the building, they were calmer.

He rubbed his head. He didn’t think he had a concussion, but he’d definitely taken a few whacks to his good old noggin and he was having trouble focusing.

“No, no,” said the man (short, round, vaguely South Asian, but honestly could have been from anywhere), “so theft, no stealing.”

“Then I’m not sure what the problem is. You aren’t hiding, like, kidnapping victims in here, are you?” he peered past the man, core flaring.

“No! No.” The man leaned closer to Danny. Danny mirrored him. “We are making…” He let the pause drag on. “Knockoffs.”

“Oh,” said Danny. “Cool.”

“You’re not upset?”

“Nope.”

“But you’re, like, a superhero.”

“Dude. Dude. My existence is literally illegal in all fifty states. I am breaking so many laws right now.”

“What?”

“Being a ghost is one-hundred-percent illegal. Those government agent dudes that chase me around sometimes want to dissect me. I’m not going to report you to anyone.” He paused. “As long as this isn’t a sweatshop or anything. I draw the line at hurting people.”

“Oh,” said the man, as if he’d just been given a revelation.

“Yeah. Also, do my pupils look the same size to you? I think I have a concussion.”

“What?”

“Because sometimes I prophesy when I have a concussion, and that’s just a bad time for everyone. Also, don’t get a dog.”

“Uh.”

Someone deeper in the room, hidden by a rack of clothing called for the man, who quickly ran off. Danny shrugged and flew away. He’d get Jazz to check him for concussions.

.

Somehow, inexplicably, word got out that Danny Phantom was down for crime.

This led to three separate people asking him to help them break into Vlad’s manor. Which. Danny wasn’t against on principle, but still. He declined.

(The ones who were trying to burglarize non-evil people got rejected with a bit more force.)

.

“I don’t know why people keep asking me to do crime,” said Danny. “I don’t do crime.”

“Yes, you do,” said Tucker. He showed Danny his card. “What does this one do, again?”

Danny was attempting to teach Tucker, well, it didn’t have an English name. Ghost poker, essentially. With Tucker’s card-counting skills, Danny reckoned they could sweep the literally underground ghost poker tournament. If Tucker could learn the rules.

“For that one, you have to draw from the deck again,” said Danny. “Anyway, this is different.”

“You are wanted by the law in two dimensions.”

“Walker is not the law,” scoffed Danny. “Except, you know, on his own island.”

“You’re illegal by existing. You’ve convinced me to gamble for money.”

“That’s not illegal.”

“It’s a felony, Danny. You blew up Vlad’s house. I think that counts as arson. Or something.”

“That was an accident.”

“The vandalism.”

“Okay, that wasn’t an accident.”

“The ghost weed—”

“Ghost nip,” corrected Danny.

“Ghost nip thing wasn’t technically illegal, but I’m pretty sure that’s because the government doesn’t know it exists. As soon as they know it gives dead people superpowers—”

“Dead people already have superpowers. And that was also an accident. I hate being high.”

“Sure. Anyway. Danny, you live a half-life of crime.”

Danny grumbled.

“I think that swatting Vlad was also a crime.”

“Not swatting. It was the GIW.”

“Still illegal. How about those ectoguns? You have a concealed carry permit for them?”

“They aren’t real guns.”

“They’re real weapons. You bring them to school.”

Danny abandoned his hand of cards to push his face into one of his pillows. “Stoppit. I’m not crime.”

“You are crime. Honestly, I think you should try to see how many crimes you can rack up.”

“Seeing as this is kind of life and death,” said Danny, “I don’t really want to push it.”

“Because you’re half alive and half dead?”

“No, because the GIW will kill me if they catch me, and if the government gets me, they’ll give me to the GIW.”

“Oh. Wow. That got dark really fast.” Tucker fell silent for a bit. Neither of them was paying attention to their card game anymore. “Hey, what about that car we stole, isn’t that-?”

“Hrrrngh,” said Danny.

.

“The IRS?” said Danny, incredulously. “You’re IRS agents?”

The larger of the two suited men tried to pull himself out of the ectoplasmic web. “Uh,” he said.

“Yes,” said the shorter man. “Did you know, filing a false death report is a crime, as is not filing a death certificate?”

“You were carrying shotguns.”

“Tax evaders can be dangerous.”

“Shotguns full of salt.”

“We aren’t approved for lethal force.”

“Salt.”

“It’s cheaper than a taser.”

Danny shook his head. “Just admit that you’re ghost hunters and go home.”

“Only after you admit that you’re committing tax fraud.”

“I’m not committing tax fraud! I don’t even file taxes!”

“Also a crime!”

“I make no money!”

“Or so you claim!”

Danny rolled his eyes. “I don’t have time for this.”

“Wait!” said the taller one. “You’re not going to leave us here, are you?”

“It’ll dissolve! Eventually!” shouted Danny.

“I’ve got to pee!”

“Tough!”

“Don’t you dare!” shouted the other. “I’m right below you!”

Danny was not paid enough for this. (Or at all, technically.)

.

Danny stood between Johnny and Technus, staring at the clinking, churring machine that continuously output sheets of thick green paper.

“Why?”

“I’ve always wanted to get involved in a serious crime,” said Johnny.

“I, TECHNUS, MASTER OF ALL TECHNOLOGY, WILL CONQUER THE UNITED STATES ECONOMY USING THE POWER OF COUNTERFEIT CURRENCY.”

“Oh my god,” said Danny. He looked at the nearest sheet. “Are those all ones?”

“THE LEAST LIKELY CURRENCY TO BE CHECKED, ACCORDING TO MY RESEARCH.”

“Oh my god,” repeated Danny. He brought his hands together as if praying, then looked heavenward. “You probably have more of these hidden somewhere, so I don’t want to deal with it.”

“No, this is—”

Technus rammed his elbow into Johnny’s side.

“I don’t want to deal with it,” repeated Danny. “Don’t spend it in Amity Park. Or Elmerton.”

“Gotcha,” said Johnny. “How much do you want for your cut.”

“I want to go back in time to before you told me about this, that’s what I want,” said Danny.

.

“So, Sam,” said Tucker, “did you hear that Danny’s now a crime boss?”

“I am going to commit murder.”

“That’s a crime, Danny.”

“I have a very good motive.”

“Technically,” said Tucker, now edging away from Danny, “that’s still a crime.”

[khaotic-kitsunes]

Drifting

I had so much fun writing up the introduction to this request! You’ll probably see why in just a minute too...but, fun fact, the lovely Khaos, the newest addition to the blog, helped me out with this request when I found myself a little stuck!

Khaos added a helpful amount of amazing to the ending scene, so be sure to thank them for their amazing input! Oh, and make sure ya let us know what you think, okay?

I would also like to add that I know it’s been quiet here on the blog and I’m sorry for that but personally, I’ve had some...curveballs thrown at me health wise so you probably won’t see a lot from me. So, yeah.

Navigation 

Cheeky Kitsune 🦊💋

.

 Tamaki slowly peeked up above the ocean’s surface, keeping as quiet as possible to remain unnoticed while he allowed his eyes to land upon the object of his curiosities and affections; swallowing thickly when he realised that you had shown up at exactly sunset yet again, just like always.

 And, as always, you were alone. You had no companions that could prevent him from stealing you away to his secret cave and no one to help you if he decided to keep you to himself. An idea that appealed to him more with each of your visits to the beach.

 What interested Tamaki most, however, was the fact that with each of your visits, you made sure to only come by the secluded beach at sunset; when everyone else had gone home for the day. Tourists seemed to believe all the local’s stories of monsters beneath the water’s surface, waiting for the sun to go down so that their attacks could go unnoticed until it was too late.

 Of course, it was all nonsense. Tamaki was the only merperson to occupy this particular beach and he had been for quite a few years now; any and all monsters were long gone, migrated to places that weren’t so aware of the dangers that lurked beneath the depths.

 But it was also because of the late hour that you came to the beach, that Tamaki couldn’t approach you. He was all too aware of how a human woman might react to a random man approaching them in the water when the sun was beginning to set, shadows casting over the sky and melting the beautiful orange hues into an inky blackness.

 So, instead, Tamaki had to be satisfied with watching you from afar. Appreciating your beauty and daydreaming about all the different possibilities of meeting you; how he could befriend you and get closer, all while knowing it would be an impossibility.

 .

 ~  ~  ~

 .

 Tamaki stared at you with wide, saucer-like eyes, his mouth hanging open while you swam towards him slowly; your body remaining below the water’s surface, hiding the fact that you were without your bikini top.

 The very same bikini top that he held in his hands, a scrap of clothing that he had been inspecting out of confusion given that it was nearly midnight and he had thought that you had left the beach hours ago like you normally would.

 “…I think that’s mine” Your softly uttered words startled him, making him jolt and sink down further into the water while he released the bikini top; allowing it to float up to the surface, harmlessly bobbing up and down with the waves between the both of you.

 “Sorry, I uh, didn’t realise that someone else was here” He muttered out a pathetic excuse for an apology, trying his best not to let his tentacles move into your line of sight; desperate to at least seem normal, even if it wouldn’t be a lasting impression.

  Tamaki gulped nervously as he watched you reach for the floating bikini top, averting his gaze when you shuffled around to put the piece of clothing back on; the hurried movements of your fingers catching his attention with how the water splashed from the clumsy actions. The silence beginning to feel awkward while Tamaki tried his best not to look at you before you were ready, not wanting to come off as a pervert. Not to you.

 “It’s okay, I didn’t realise anyone else was here either. Not this late at night anyways and certainly not with the way everyone goes on about the monsters that are waiting for sunset so they can eat you” You rolled your eyes as the words left your lips, briefly giving Tamaki a once over before nodding your head to yourself; making Tamaki wonder if you were giving him the benefit of the doubt despite how strange it was for him to be here at this time, more so considering that he had technically been holding onto your bikini top.

 Then again, it would make sense for you to assume that he had thought it was a piece of seaweed; because honestly, that’s exactly what Tamaki had first thought when he picked it up.

 It wasn’t uncommon for people to investigate strange and/or suspicious objects that were found floating in the ocean, only to cast them away as quickly as they had been found. Tamaki had seen humans do so more times than he could count and luckily for him, he had had the brains to immediately release the skimpy piece of clothing; a guilty man would have tried to hide it, or simply kept held of it. Not Tamaki though, he had dropped it, allowed you to take it back and even averted his gaze so that you could have some form of privacy while fixing your top; even if it hadn’t been a great deal of privacy. There was only so much he could offer given the circumstances after all.

 However, even with these facts in mind, Tamaki could easily see that you were still on guard and he was happy to see such a thing. It reassured him that you didn’t trust random strangers in the water just because they had been polite enough to look away while you were topless.

 “Still, I am sorry…about your top, I mean. If I had of known what it was…” Tamaki trailed off as his face flushed with embarrassment, the tips of his pointed ears beginning to turn a similar shade of scarlet while he dipped further into the gentle waves of the night’s warm ocean waters; only stopping when his nose was beneath the salty waters.

 “It’s fine, okay? No harm, no foul” You hummed out the words in a soft voice, swimming around to face the embarrassed merman; all the while being completely unaware of what he truly was.

 “So…what brings you out so late?” Your question made Tamaki’s body go stiff, anxiety rushing through his system while his brain scrambled to think of something, anything to say in response to such an innocently asked question; anything but the truth, that is.

 There was no way known that Tamaki could tell you the truth behind his daily visits to this beach, especially when he could live happily and stealthily beneath the ocean waves for the rest of his life if it weren’t for your presence on this beach.

 Tamaki wanted to slap himself. Here he was, minding his own business in the ocean when the opportunity that he would have killed for, landed in his lap. The chance to speak with you, instead of just stare at you from afar and yet here he was, completely and utterly unable to get a single word out; instead, the fears of what could happen filled his mind.

 The terrifying what ifs of you hating him if he opened his mouth and said the wrong thing tormenting him into a nervous silence. Tamaki’s only relief from the situation, was that he would have the memories of having gotten close to you without making you scream and panic; though that also meant that no one would notice if he were to steal you away in that moment, if he took you to a place that no one would ever hope to find.

 But that was something that he couldn’t do and definitely something that Tamaki shouldn’t think about, unless he wanted to fuel the desires that he so often pushed aside. You would surely hate him if he were to do even half of the things that he had thought about.

 “Well, I guess I’ll see you around…” You mumbled out the farewell awkwardly, turning away from Tamaki in order to swim back towards the shore, no longer able to enjoy the solitude of an empty beach.

 “Uh, wait!” Tamaki called out to you again, finally able to find his voice once more as he reached out for you, his hand closing around your arm. Sealing his choice of interaction with you when you turned to face him. He should have let you leave.

 “Your…um, your strap, it’s loose…” He barely managed to mumble out the words without humiliating himself, averting his gaze when he found himself unable to meet your eyes; not needing the added kick of self-loathing on top of his nervousness.

 “You’ll lose your top again if you don’t fix it…”

 .

 “Oh. Well, do you mind?”

 .

 Tamaki gulped nervously as you turned your back to him once more, allowing him to reach for the loose strings belonging to your bikini top; needing to untie the knot that you had created in a rush minutes ago. If Tamaki were telling the truth, the knot probably would have held, but at the same time, he wouldn’t get another chance to let his skin brush against your own.

 Now, he was in heaven, making sure to tie a strong knot while at the same time, being sure that it wasn’t so tight that you wouldn’t be able to undo it yourself later on.

 “There…all done” He mumbled out the words under his breath when he was finished tying the knot, his fingers lingering on your skin for a brief moment, wanting more; though you pulled away before he could get ahead of himself.

 Leaving Tamaki to breathe a sigh of release, all while silently cursing both himself and all of his pent-up desires. More so when you spun around to smile at him, the radiance you gave off nearly blinding his mopey self.

 “You’re beautiful…!” Tamaki blurted out the words before he could stop himself, quickly slapping his hands over his mouth with his eyes going wide in a mix of shock and horror. Mortified that he had said something like that without realising.

 Your eyes went wide, the smile fading from your lips and making Tamaki wish that he had legs so that he could kick himself. Unaware that you weren’t upset, but rather the opposite, never having been so earnestly complimented before; it brought an unfamiliar warmth to your cheeks and to your heart.

 “Um…thanks…” Tamaki watched you as you swam closer to him, torn between escaping to the ocean’s depths and closing the gap between the two of you; desperate for both, yet knowing better than to actually reach for the object of his desires.

 With his mind struggling to choose between the two options, Tamaki froze in place at the worst time; allowing you to move closer until he felt your warm toes brush over his wriggling tentacles, fear filling him when you jolted back in surprise. Your eyes scanning the dark waters for seaweed.

 “What’s…wrong?” Tamaki mentally slapped himself for asking while he watched you lower your head closer to the water’s surface, still searching for seaweed that he knew you wouldn’t find. He was just thankful that it was so late in the night, making it nearly impossible for you to see anything below the surface; you weren’t like him, you didn’t have eyes unaffected by the dark.

 .

 “Well, it’s just…I thought that something touched my leg…”

 .

 Tamaki moved his tentacles as far away from you as he could, praying that the darkness would be enough to push aside your curiosity, but apparently, it was too late; your hands closed around two of his now squirming tentacles as he tried to pull them free of your hold.

 “Y-You…you’re a…” You breathed out in amazement, eyes wide as you stared at him and though it wasn’t in fear, Tamaki couldn’t take it. He wriggled his tentacles free of your grip and dove deep into the water; fearing what you would do now that you knew what he was.

 .

 “Wait!”

 .

 Tamaki ignored the muffled cry for him to stop, determined not to lose the strength it took to leave you behind instead of dragging you into the depths with him.

 Before Tamaki could get too far away however, he felt your hands close around his tentacles for the second time, causing him to freeze on the spot; heart thundering in his chest. He was already struggling to keep himself contained after having his tentacles grabbed the first time, but now it was too much; his tentacles were sensitive after all.

 Tamaki turned around in the water to look at you with a hunger that he had been pushing aside for far too long; using every last ounce of willpower he had left not to grab you and take you with him to his cave.

 The two of you remained submerged for a moment longer, staring at each other through the impossibly dark ocean water of the night. Tamaki knew you couldn’t see him, but your hold on his tentacles was enough to give you a direction to look at and like this, he had the rare opportunity to take in your breathtaking appearance; enjoying it as much as possible before wrapping some of his tentacles around your body and swimming for the surface.

 You were a human, which meant that you needed oxygen. A fact that he had nearly forgotten for a moment there, but either way; Tamaki wasn’t going to let you die. Not now, not when he could prevent it.

 “I’m not…I’m not gonna—” Tamaki motioned you to stop speaking as you tried to cough at the words, a suggestion that you decided to follow given that it was hard to regain your breath and speak at the same time. Given that Tamaki was no longer trying to swim away and that his tentacles were still wrapped around your body, keeping you afloat so that you didn’t have to put any effort into swimming yourself; you figured that you had time to catch your breath.

 “I was trying to say that I’m not going to turn you in. I was just…surprised, I guess” You rubbed at your neck as you explained yourself, your words making Tamaki’s stress melt away while thoughts of adoration towards you filled his mind.

 It was mind blowing to him that a human that had just discovered his secret wasn’t about to go running off telling everyone that merpeople existed and it certainly made him love you more than he already did.

 “Though, I am a little confused. I’ve heard those stories for years, listening to them as a little girl…how going out into the water at night is a terrible idea because monsters from the ocean will drag you beneath the water and steal you away” Tamaki grimaced as you giggled at the thought, clearly having no idea how close you had come to such a fate; even if the end result would have been different. Tamaki wouldn’t have hurt you, or eaten you alive like the old monsters of the ocean would have; no, he would have done so many different things to you. Things that would surely have you slap him if he dared to say them aloud to you.

 “Well, you know…don’t believe everything you hear I guess…” He managed to get a light-hearted chuckle out as he spoke, deciding that for the moment it would be better to keep you entrapped in his tentacles; mostly so that you couldn’t grab a hold of them again and push him into his instincts more than you already have.

 “I guess so, but I don’t know…you don’t seem so bad. Maybe having you steal me away wouldn’t be so terrible” Tamaki’s features twisted into unfiltered surprise at your giggled words, blood rushing through his ears and completely blocking out whatever it was that you were currently continuing on with.

 It seemed you managed to notice the faraway look in his eyes while his mind worked overtime to process your joke. Going as far as to reach out with your hand to brush your fingertips against his cheek, ripping him from his thoughts and dragging him back to reality; your eyes locking with his heated gaze the moment his attention was back on the present you instead of his fantasy version.

 “…You would let me steal you away?” He pulled your body closer to his with his tentacles as he spoke, the slippery limbs tightening their hold on you ever-so-slightly while you gulped nervously; unable to look away from the merman in front of you.

 “…I…yes, I guess so” You spoke softly, unsure words tasting foreign to your tongue but unregrettable all the same. There was a certain air of importance surrounding the spoken words and now you found yourself slowly beginning to sink into the water with a smiling Tamaki.

 It was amazing, how his eyes had lit up with joy at your uttered words. Though it made you think vaguely of the old fae stories, where your word was a binding contract and if that were to be held in the same regard with mer-people, then it seemed like you had agreed to a new way of life.

 .

 “You won’t regret it, I promise. I’ve got the perfect place in mind for you, you’ll be safe with me…I won’t let anyone steal you away…”

[lonely-lost-soul]

Under the Floorboards Pt. V

(Technoblade X Reader): Pt. I, Pt. II, Pt. III, Pt. IIII, Pt. V, Pt. VI

    Alright so maybe you spoke too soon; the four of you were going to do great things, minus Tommy. Technoblade had finally agreed to let you join Tommy and him on an adventure into L’manberg. The plan was to crash their festival, and ultimately attempt to get Tommy’s discs back from Dream and Tubbo. You expected your first adventure into the country to be fun, if anything you’d get to steal some shit, what you didn’t expect was to be thrown in the middle of a public dispute. 

Clearly, you underestimated what ‘getting the discs back’ actually entailed. 

You and Technoblade were back to back swords drawn, surrounded by about thirty people in the ruin of what was once deemed a community house. Technoblade never would’ve agreed to let you come if he thought the confrontation with Dream was going to be this serious, he assumed they’d watch from afar. If things got to dicey Tommy and him would rush in and he’d have you stay behind to watch from afar. If only he could’ve predicted someone blowing up a random building would cause such turmoil. 

Nothing could ever come up Technoblade.

   “Yah know when you first invited me out to partake in a festival for some reason I didn’t expect to be attacked by like thirty people.” You chirped a hesitant smile on your face as Technoblade made a confused sound. 

   “You definitely should’ve expected it,” Technoblade grumbled, barely taking his eyes off of Tommy and Tubbo’s argument. You watched Techno’s back but you couldn’t help but eavesdrop on the boys conversation as well. As much as your heart broke for the two war-torn children, you had your alliance first and foremost with your boyfriend. You also couldn’t help but feel this conversation should be happening privately but here they were airing things out seemingly for the first time in front of everybody. Speaking of your boyfriend, your attention was drawn back to him as he caught Tommy’s attention, “be very careful what your decision is here Tommy.” 

You narrowed your eyes and took a step in front of Technoblade, he made his classic ‘heh’ sound as you did so. You felt his hand grip your forearm and tighten trying to hold you back in case you wanted to do something stupid. 

   “Tommy, come home with us.” You held out your hand to him, the one Technoblade didn’t have a hold of obviously. “Phil’s waiting for us, we’ll get your discs back together as we planned.” The smile on your face could part the cloudiest of days and it broke Tommy’s heart, she had given him something that he hadn’t had since the war with Dream began.

A home. 

   “(Y/N),” That’s the first time he used your name, the first time you weren’t just Ms Blade. It broke your heart and you whimpered a little bit, “thank you for everything you’ve done for me. But I can’t go back with you and Technoblade. I don’t like what I’ve become, this isn’t me. I’m sorry. I hope one day we can be friends again. Tubbo give Dream my disc.” You leaned back into Technoblade in disbelief, Tommy had just betrayed Technoblade right before your very eyes. The man who gave Tommy the clothes on his back and a place to stay when no one else would. Weapons to help him fight against Dream when everyone else abandoned him, even though they all treated Technoblade as a weapon he still went out of his way to help Tommy. Your hands clenched into fists at your side as Dream let out a roaring laugh collecting the disc from Tubbo. He called the two children stupid right to their face and no matter how angry you were with them that was harsh, it’s like everyone in this country forgets that they are children. Children fuck up, it’s how they learn and it’s in their nature why does no one here understand that. You looked up at Techno your eyebrows furrowed and you pressed your lips tight but he didn’t take his eyes off Dream, he had different priorities in mind. 

Protecting you from the Dreamon if anything went south. 

Dream continued to mock and criticize the people of L’manberg before turning to you and Technoblade. The mask he wore may hide his facial expressions, but it couldn’t mask the unadulterated glee in his voice. Technoblade pulled you behind him as Dream stepped closer to the both of you, you felt a growl rumble in Technoblade’s chest, 

   “That’s close enough.” 

   “Down boy.” Dream mused, holding up his hands to show faux innocence. “I have no issues with the both of you. Tomorrow, with your help, Technoblade and woman.”  

   “(Y/N).”

   “Don’t tell him your name.” Technoblade gaped at you and you only could huff in frustration, 

   “Better than just being called woman! Plus Tommy already said it.”  

With an eye-roll Dream continued his speech, “With the help of Technoblade and (Y/N) L’manberg is going to be a crater. We’re blowing it sky-high.” Dream turned over to face Tubbo once again, “I had to pretend to be friends with you, to get the dumb disk back! I don't care about you. I'm not your friend. Okay? I cared about getting the disk back, and I got the disk back. I got it back. And that's-that's- that's the only thing that really matters. You can't even run your nation right. RANBOO IS A TRAITOR. ONE OF YOUR MOST TRUSTED FRIENDS.”

Your eyes widened as you spotted another child looking horrified, it was the half enderman from the butcher gang. You’re adopting him next.

   “NO, IT IS TRUE. READ THIS BOOK. READ THIS BOOK. There's his memory book. He was meeting with Techno and Tommy and told them EVERYTHING. The proof’s all his own memories! He writes it down! You can't even run your own nation correctly Tubbo. Listen. Tubbo, you, I mean you, ... L'Manberg is weaker than it's ever been, and it's because of you! You have- you have destroyed everything. You have ruined your friendships. You have ruined L'Manberg's allies. You have just-you are a horrible president Tubbo.” Dream continued as Tubbo looked sick to his stomach, you felt just as nauseous.

   “YEAH, YOU SUCK TUBBO!”

   “TECHNOBLADE!” 

   “What?” He flinched at your tone, “he’s right!” 

   “They’re children,” You tried to argue but Dream cut you off by stepping in between you and Technoblade. Your pulse skyrocketed as you were separated, and you made sure an ender pearl was at the ready. Tommy looked at the both fo you nervously, but there was a spark of hope in his eyes when you defended Tubbo. Tommy turned over to Tubbo who honestly looked just as shocked that a partner of Technoblade’s would defend him, espeically considering he had tried to kill her a few days prior. Tommy had hope that he wasn’t completely dead to you.

   “Techno. Got any withers?” You watched a sickening smile spread across Techno’s lips he picked at his nails. 

   “I got a few.” 

   “Good. Then I’ll see you all tomorrow when the L’manberg loses its last cannon life,” Dream announced before disappearing into the wind. The citizens turned to face you and Technoblade, he only had to utter a single word:

   “Run,” Before both of you pearled away from the wreckage of the community house. 

Technoblade scooped you up in his arms as he made his way through the Nether portal back to his base. He was much faster than you were and you didn’t fight him on wanting to make a quick getaway. You both were silent on the way back to his base, bottom line was you didn’t know how you felt about what just went down. On one hand, destruction was your middle name and you weren’t going to oppose blowing a government to smithereens with your boyfriend.  

Nothing could be more romantic than that. 

Yet at the same time, unlike Technoblade, you felt the guilt eat away at you. These were people’s homes, and lives you’d be destroying tomorrow. Most of the citizens you had no affiliation with, which you were grateful for, but those you did you almost couldn’t justify blowing the country up. Tommy was by all accounts dead to Technoblade and by that extent you as well. Still, you didn’t want to see him physically dead, it wasn’t his fault he got corrupted by the government and a homeless teletubby.

You were starting to sound like Technoblade now too.  

You made a sound of distress and Techno glanced down at your form, his face flushed as you nuzzled your nose against his neck. 

   “You okay princess?” 

   “No…” You answered with a sigh, you reached out and twirled a strand of his pink hair through your fingers. “Tommy’s gone, we’re going to blow up a country tomorrow. I feel bad for the people we’re gonna leave homeless. So, no I’m not okay bubs.” The socially awkward man winced a little as he battled with what to say to you, he tends to forget you both aren’t the same person. For as much as both of you agree, you were still different from him, you had more empathy than he could ever wish to have. 

   “You don’t have to come.”  

He watched a frown appear on your face as you pulled away from him. You clicked your tongue in distaste, a sure sign that you were about to pick a fight with the blood god. You were one opponent he could never seem to defeat. That did not come out the way he intended. 

Time to backtrack before he got his ass handed to him. 

   “What I mean is, you have no affiliation with L’manberg. You have no prior issues you need to settle with them so technically you can stay home tomorrow, no one would blame you. You’d be safer away from the explosions, I’d feel better with you at home.”

   “That way you’d only have to worry about Phil tomorrow right?” 

   “Well, that’s part of it,” He stated bluntly, never one to be dishonest. “He has only one life and he’s going to want to fight, he has a lot to avenge. The government drove his eldest son mad, enough that Phil had to kill him. He’s one of my oldest friends, I wanna look out for him and protect him.” You couldn’t help but sigh softly at his response, you brushed your thumb across his cheek fondly. 

   “You’re wrong.” 

   “Eh?”

   “I do have something I want to fight for, I want to fight for what I believe is right. Let’s face it Techno the way everyone’s treating those children is sick. Dream manipulated Tommy and used Tubbo to get what he wanted from him. I know you did what you thought was right for Tommy but he’s a product of a war-torn country, they all are. Now, that doesn’t excuse his betrayal but… did he even know what the right thing to do was in this situation, does he even truly know what peace is? I want to fight to protect those kids. They deserve to know peace, true peace away from bloodshed and war. If I can I want to give them that.” You watched Technoblade’s jaw tighten, “I’m going with you tomorrow but I’m not going to kill the children.” 

   “I don’t think I can ever forgive Tommy.” He sighed adjusting his grip on you a sure sign he was nervous, “but I love you.” Techno kissed you once again, it was long and tender you watched as the apples of his cheeks turn red after you both pulled away. He took a breath, “You’re unstoppable and you’ve never stopped me before so I won’t do the same for you. Just stay safe. Please. You need to come home with me tomorrow I won’t settle for anything else.” 

   “I will. I promise.” You pressed a light kiss to his cheek, and he hummed gently in response. “I love you Technoblade, I’ll fight beside you. Till the end of the line.”

   “Till the end of the line,” He repeated as you both approached the snow-covered house to convene with Philza Minecraft himself.

~~~

Hi guys! Officially feeling a bit better, enough to get a small part out before I work on the next chapter. I hope you like it, thanks so much for reading and your amazing feedback. Also, thanks so much for your kind words and well wishes! Also, also, If anyone ever makes fanart of this story (I doubt it would happen) please tag me and let me know. I love to make art myself and always wanna support other artists! Thanks Again!

[xpeachesncream]

bands | eleven

[ series masterlist ]

summary: jeon jungkook has it all: the looks, the fame, the money, the women. being considered the sexiest man in the industry, he finds no complaints about the way his life is going nor does he find any reason to apologize for the way he approaches it. he is a force to be reckoned with - until he meets you.

pairing: stripper!reader x idol!jjk

genre: (18+) strip club/nightlife au, post grad au | fluff, angst, smut

words: 5.2k

warnings: cussing, mature language/implied sexual content, club scene, alcohol consumption, mentions of intoxication, mentions of dancing at the club, little bit of those insecurities coming back into play, good ol’ phone sex in the hotel room, mutual masturbation, unprotected sex, oral (m. & f. receiving), multiple orgasms, fingering, breast play, doggy style, hair pulling, slight choking, creampie

tags: @brightcolorsoffendme​ @min-nicoleee​ @eggbutnotyolk​ @ra-mun-e @miinoongi​ @jimidol​ @ppeachyttae​ @thebeebi​ @bluesharksandfish​ @kooafraid​ @liriaus​ @thisartemisnevermisses​ @ggukkieland​ @preciouschimine​ @sunniejinnie​ @cypheruby​ @cyb3rbab3​ @masterlists101​ @awhnamjoon​ @redhedhoseok​ @wooya1224​ (please message me if you would like to be added to the taglist!)

"Club tonight before we go back home?" Taehyung grips onto Jungkook's shoulders as they walked out of the venue and into their cars that would take them back to the hotel.

"Club?"

"Yeah, come on. Everyone said yes so far! It's been so long since all of us have gone to the club together without it being a special occasion." Jungkook sighs. That statement was true, and he did love being able to hangout with everyone all together. However, he can't lie - he missed you. He barely had time to text or call you this entire trip like he wanted, and he all he wanted was to hear your voice and see your face until he could finally have you physically in his arms again.

"Fuck." Jungkook does a slight head tilt before letting out a small sigh. "Yeah, I'll come along." Taehyung smiles from ear to ear, squeezing his shoulder.

"I'm sure your girl won't mind if we steal you for a little tonight." Jungkook doesn't respond to Tae's statement and simply shakes his head with a small smile. To be honest, the guys were a little surprised to see that whole thing erupt between Jungkook and Bigs. They didn't think he was actually serious about you, the mysterious girl. Jimin, on the other hand, wouldn't dare say a word and simply lent a small chuckle or smile as his participation during their 'lets tease jeongguk' hours. But eventually, it all became a running joke and the boys learned to leave Jungkook alone because as they've learned before, Jungkook does what Jungkook wants.

He gets away with shit.

He cleans himself up and throws on a button up shirt with ripped black jeans and boots, fluffing his hair a bit before he steps back out and meets up with the boys.

[jungkook] 9:49pm: going out with the boys tonight

[y/n] 9:51pm: lol cheer up, have fun party pooper

[jungkook] 9:52pm: fineeeeeeee :( can i call you later?

[y/n] 9:55pm: you can always call me, i just don't know if i'll always pick up :)

[jungkook] 9:57pm: try and stay up please

[y/n] 10:01pm: maybe lol

He slightly smirks to himself. Hopefully you'd stay up, but he was starting to realize you always fell asleep early and that was okay too. He'd just have to wait to see you when he gets back tomorrow.

Once the boys have arrived at the club of choice, security escorts them to their VIP section, the club already packed from wall to wall with people screaming left and right. There's already a few bottle girls, and other girls waiting for them in the VIP from lord knows where, but Jungkook knows he's not trying to mess with any of it tonight. He truly didn't wanna be here, but to keep his boys happy, he decided to tag along and hang out.

"So many beautiful ladies." Jimin swings his arm around his torso and smirks.

"Go get 'em, champ." Jungkook chuckles.

"I would, if they all weren't eyeing you." He shakes his head.

"She's not eyeing me, she's looking at you." He nods towards a pretty, fair-skinned female with long, voluminous black hair. She's definitely eyeing Jimin, biting onto the tip of her finger as she tries to seduce him through her eyes. Her look. "Go." Jungkook slightly pushes him towards her, smiling as he stood back and watched. The rest of the boys were already enjoying themselves, either dancing around alone [aka Min Yoongi and Seokjinnie] or hopping behind girls for a dance.

"Why aren't you dancing with anyone?" Yoongi laughs. "I figured you would be the first to hop on someone."

"I don't feel like it." He takes a sip of his drink, hand dug deep into his pocket.

"You don't feel like it, or you're too busy missing your girlfriend?" Jin joked.

"I don't have a girlfriend!"

"Mhm, sure." Jin laughs. "You could at least reward yourself with a dance." Jungkook shrugs. Technically, he could. It was just a dance, and you still weren't his girlfriend even though he thought of you pretty seriously. But he knew how this would go, and it would get messy quick - especially with the way females nowadays loved to create drama and claim him. He wasn't up for it. And he didn't wanna do anything to hurt you, or disappoint you. The thought alone makes him feel terrible. You were just so pure-hearted, there was no way he could do anything to hurt your feelings.

"Aye!" Jimin comes over and grabs him by the shoulders, swinging him around to face the ladies once more. "That girl I was dancing with is here with her bestfriend."

"And?" Jungkook chuckled. Okay, so? Lol.

"Bro, come on. Just go dance with her and have fun. She's interested in you." He shakes his head, but Jimin is already pushing him over, the force behind his movements stronger than what Jungkook can endure after the day they've had. He clumsily follows along, his lips pursed in a fine line as he approaches Jimin's girl [of the night] and her bestfriend. She had dark brown hair, stood at about 5'7 and wore high waisted shorts and a bralette-type of crop top. She was really trying for some dick tonight. He gives her a small, toothless smile as she beams from ear to ear, shying behind her bestfriend. She was cute, but she was no you, no disrespect.

"This is Yeji!" Her bestfriend exclaims, damn near throwing her right onto Jungkook like her life depended on it. Jungkook places his hands out to support her but brings them back once she's found her footing again. Definitely drunk.

"Hi." She blushes.

"Hey." Jungkook smiles back, sipping on his drink. Jimin is still hanging onto his shoulder, trying his best to egg him on and Jungkook can't help but smile and nod awkwardly at him. He attempts to back away, but Jimin shoves him closer while laughing.

"Have fun!" Jimin flashes him a quick look, confused at what the fuck he was doing right now trying to turn her down like that. But, he instantly flips the switch as he accompanies her bestfriend to the dance floor again.

"Can I get you a drink or something? Water, even?" Jungkook offers to be nice. He can already hear you scolding him in his head - pinching him on the arm and saying that he needs to be nicer to people. But to be honest, he really doesn't know what the fuck to do with her.

"Water's good, I should start sobering up." She giggles as Jungkook nods and pours her a cup of water. He hands it to her and stands beside her, awkwardly eyeing the crowd in front of them. "Hey, I caught your performance today. You looked good! You all looked really good."

"Thanks." He smiles.

"Do you wanna dance for a little?"

"Uh, actually—" Jungkook suddenly feels the both of their bodies press against each other before Jimin's drunk laugh erupts right behind his ear. Jungkook backs away with his hands up, shaking his head.

"Hey come on, if he doesn't wanna dance don't force him." Yoongi says, almost in a scolding manner.

"I'm sorry, I'm just not really in the best dancing mood right now. Pretty tired." He says to Yeji before he gives her an apologetic look and walks over to his hyungs who aren't busy with girls. He's getting more and more annoyed with the way Jimin has been acting lately, but he was trying to keep his cool - careful not to start anything. He knew Jimin wasn't a fan of you with the way he talked about you that one morning before the photoshoot. He loves him, that's his brother for life. But if he wanted to get disrespectful, he didn't have a problem putting him in his place.

Throughout the night, Yeji is sticking to her friend and Jimin, still hoping she could get something started between her and Jungkook, but she doesn't succeed. Jungkook purposely keeps his distance from Jimin and the rest of the girls around them in the VIP section, perfectly content to be staying around Yoongi and Jin.

When they've finally called it a night, Jimin, Taehyung, Namjoon and Hobi are all pretty drunk out of their minds - their asses more than ready to risk it all by sneaking in their girl of choice to their hotel rooms.

"Let me know so Yeji can come too." Jungkook waves his hand to dismiss the statement.

"Nah. I'm good, really, thanks."

"What, all of a sudden you're a goody two shoes for your stripper girlfriend?" Jungkook shoots him a look but brushes it off, blaming it on the alcohol in Jimin's system right now.

"I'm just tired and gonna head to bed, that's it."

"Whatever." Jimin drunkily responds, the four of their drunk asses continuing to be loud as hell in the hallway until they all separate and go off to their own rooms.

"Don't be loud and shit, I want my sleep tonight." Yoongi says before shutting his door.

Finally, peace and quiet.

Jungkook sighs as he looks at his watch, the time nearing 1:30am. He slips out of his clothes, takes a quick shower and gets himself ready for bed before he's shutting off the lights. A hotel bed has never felt so comfortable in his life, but the only thing that was missing was you.

And to be completely honest, he was pretty fucking horny. Having all this pent up sexual frustration just from missing you these past couple of days alone, he couldn't take it. He hopes to god you're awake right now because he's been wanting to hear your voice and hearing your voice alone—

"Jungkook." You say softly on the other line, Jungkook's eyes slightly shutting from the sound of your voice.

Your voice alone was enough to turn him the fuck on.

"You're awake, babygirl."

"Barely." You chuckle. "I'm snuggled into my sheets, but you told me to wait up for you."

"And you actually waited. Thank you, cutie." He smiles to himself. "What'd you do today?"

"Just work my shift at the restaurant, then head home. I don't really do anything outside of work and hangout with Kai, you know this." You chuckle. "How was the club?"

"It was alright." He sighs.

"Did all the pretty ladies get a dance with Jeon Jungkook?"

"Ah, but you're the only pretty lady I know about." He chuckles, making you blush. "But no, I wasn't necessarily in the mood."

"But you're at a club, how could you not be?"

"Too tired. Besides, just wanted to come back here and talk to you. I feel like I haven't gotten to talk to you as much since we've been here."

"It's okay, you need to do what you need to do."

"I can't wait to see you when I get back."

"I can't either."

"You and your pretty face."

"What is up with you? Are you drunk?" You softly laugh.

"No, not really. Why, I can't miss you?"

"Never said that, Jungkook. I miss you, too." You giggled, giving him some affection since it's been a couple of days and you actually missed his presence too.

"Yeah? How much do you miss me, baby?" Your eyes slightly widen cause you can most definitely pick up on his tone, plus the 'baby' pet name made your pussy hop a little. He wanted you, and he knew just the right ways to get to you worked up already.

"A lot."

"Mmm." He hums breathily, causing you to bite your bottom lip. "Are you gonna show me just how much you missed me when I get back?"

"Maybe."

"Maybe, what?" He chuckles deeply. "Tell me, babygirl." He begins to slowly palm himself through his boxers. "How do you want me to show you?" You shut your eyes, the heat quickly building in your core.

"Jungkook." You let out a breathy moan. "What are you trying to do right now?"

"God, I just wanna feel you." He says, completely passing up your question. "I just wanna feel you all around me. Would you like that, my pretty lady? Me all up inside you?" At this point, Jungkook is hard as hell, whipping his hardened member free from its confines. He lets out a breath at how free he feels, finally able to stroke himself nice and slow. He toys with the pre-cum pooling at his tip, using it as some kind of lubricant as he strokes himself up and down, gripping a little tighter towards the base.

"Yes." Your hand slips through your shorts and your panties, gently rubbing at your clit as you listen to Jungkook's deep voice on the other line. You slip your hand a little further down, feeling how wet you already are. You silently whimper to yourself, spreading your wetness in and around your folds, picturing Jungkook doing the work for you.

"Don't be shy, baby. Tell me what you want. Use your words."

"I want you inside of me."

"Inside where?"

"My pussy." He softly groans into the phone, his grip getting tighter by the minute as he fucks himself into his hand.

"Are you touching yourself right now?"

"Yes."

"That's my good girl." He moans with you. "Just wanna fuck you so badly. Show you how special you are to me."

"Jungkook." You whine, as you slip in a finger and quickly fuck yourself with it, the sounds of your wetness echoing in your tiny space. "Fuck I'm so wet for you."

"That's it." He hisses. "Fuck yourself for me until I get back. Can't wait to taste you and fill you up."

"Want you so bad, want you to fuck me so good until I cry." You say, not even realizing the shit you're saying right now as you rub your clit and work your hips in tandem. You begin to whimper a little louder, ready to hurdle off the edge with the pressure you're applying.

"Yeah?" His mouth is agape, barely any noises being released due to the overwhelming sensation that's taking over his body. "Want me to fucking ruin you, baby? Are you ready for that?"

"Always." You moan. "Ahh—Kook, I'm gonna cum."

"Cum all around this dick, sweetheart. It's yours." The words are enough to unravel you, sending you spiraling out of control with the pleasure taking all over your body - inch by inch.

"Oh fuck, Jungkook! Ughhhhhhfffffuck." You groan into the phone as you continue to move your hips into your hand, fingers pressed tightly against your clit.

"Shiiiiiiiit." Jungkook moans as his hips are moving quicker and sloppier, the image of him ramming his cock into you from behind while choking you has him toppling him over the edge. "Mmmmmgod, babygirl."

"The fuck, Jungkook." He chuckles as he regulates his breathing.

"Just miss you, that's all." You hear him stirring in the back, probably cleaning himself up just as you are with yourself. "Stay on the phone with me?" When he does have the time to call you while he's been away, he's always asked for you to stay on the line - facetime or regular call - just so it seems like you're next to him. What you did to deserve this soft Jeon Jungkook, you had no idea. But you were gonna take it and run as far as you could, because fuck. You liked-liked him.

"Okay." You yawn.

"I can still take you out on a date, right?" He yawns shortly after, the domino effect hitting him.

"Of course." You softly chuckle, your eyes getting heavy from all the energy you just spent.

"Okay. I just wanna make sure cause I'm already planning this."

"Planning, huh?"

"Gotta put in the effort." Silence. "Night sweetheart, sleep tight."

"Night." You barely manage to say before you're off into a deep sleep.

You knew Jungkook would be back today, but you weren't sure what time. From the sounds of it, it seemed like it would be really late and you'd have to wait until tomorrow to see him. Which, bums you the fuck out. You just longed for his company and to be in his arms again because it's the safest you've felt in such a long time.

Oh, well.

At least it gave you some time to plan out Kai's birthday gift and celebration cause you still had no fucking idea. He was going to spend majority of the day with his friends at their favorite arcade, but you promised him dinner.

Were you really just going to take him to get Loco Moco from the hawaiian mom and pop shop down the street for his 18th birthday?

What the fuck were you even gonna give him?

You figured you could go shopping for some clothes? Or, check out what new games came out for the playstation that he might be interested in playing. Orrrrr find some comic books and give him--

Knock, knock, knock.

You checked your clock, startled at the heavy knocks coming from your door. It was barely after dinner, the sun still up but preparing to make its way down below the horizon. You had no idea why you suddenly felt nervous and scared, afraid of who you'd see through the peephole. Bigs popped into your head, the goosebumps hitting the surface of your skin. You really hoped it wasn't him trying to cause trouble - or anyone else related for that matter.

You slowly stood up, holding your arms closely against your chest. You tippytoed to check your peephole but it was pitch black, as if someone had been covering it with their finger. Was Kai playing games with you? Did he suddenly get dropped off or take the bus? You didn't have plans with him.

You slowly open a crack, seeing a smiley Jungkook waving at you from behind the door. You swing the door open and latch onto him like a koala, causing him to drop his duffle bag and wrap his arms around you tightly.

"Jungkook, what the fuck! You scared me!" You say into his neck, taking in his scent.

"Why?" He laughs as he gently helps you down and follows you into your apartment.

"It seemed like you weren't gonna be home till late."

"Seemed." He smirked.

"Hey!" You gently push him after you close your door. "How'd you know my door code and which apart—"

"Kai." You both say in unison.

"Ugh, I'm gonna kill him." You whine.

"It's his birthday soon, though. Let him turn 18."

"Ugh, I'm gonna kill him after his birthday." You repeat as you plop back onto your bed, Jungkook dropping his duffle and plopping next to you.

"Cozy place." He says, face down onto your mattress, causing you to run your hand through his fluffy hair.

"It's teeny tiny."

"No, it's perfect. Perfectly sized and cozy." He reassures you as he finally lays on his side to face you.

"Did you just hop off the plane?"

"Sure did."

"Did you eat anything?"

"Yeah, I ate something small on the plane. I'm not that hungry."

"You sure?" You asked, genuinely concerned.

"Mhm." He throws an arm lazily across your legs as he closes his eyes for a quick minute. You continue to run your hand through his hair, a notification on his screen catching your attention.

[unknown number] 6:37pm: hi! this is yeji from the club. :) i hope you don't mind, jimin passed on your number and said we should get into contact.

First of all - Why the fuck does Jungkook have his notifications set so that you can see what the goddamn message is on the lock screen?!

Second - Yeji?

Third - Of course Jimin would have slipped her his number. He hates you for whatever fucking reason.

Another text came in from her but you pulled your eyes away from his phone. This wasn't your business. But let's be real, your heart sank a little knowing he might have been acting up at the club, dancing with hella other girls and getting hella other numbers. It kind of made your insecurities resurface all over again. You weren't his girlfriend though, none of this was exclusive. So, did you really have a right to feel this way?

You brush it off quickly, trying to remind yourself who the hell you were before Jungkook came around [but god, was he making you a softy]. He wasn't exactly yours to claim; however, you were the one he came home to. Technically. Calling you all hot and bothered cause he missed you.

Yes bitch, please.

You're pulled out of your internal battle when Jungkook stirs a little to check his phone, your hand still lightly weaving through his hair as you press your lips together. He reads the notifications, deletes it from the screen and locks his phone again.

"The boys bothering you?" You decide to ask in a way that doesn't yell 'yes I saw her pop up on your phone, sir.'

"Nah. No one important really."

"Oh okay." Bummer. You lowkey expected him to be honest with you, but was that too soon for you? You just through this in your head - this wasn't exclusive.

"Lay with me, pretty lady. Let's watch something."

"You mean finish Gone Girl?" You quickly flip the switch and smirk at him, making him laugh.

"Oh shit, that's right. Not my fault you straddled me." You slightly gasp.

"Not my fault you fucking batted your eyelashes at me, talking about ‘can I tell you something?'" He scrunched his nose and tickled your sides, causing you to yelp and crash your body back down onto the bed. He continues to tickle you until you're begging for him to stop - his body over yours, but he was careful not to put all his weight on you. "Ouch, Jungkook!" You whine.

"You finished making fun of me?"

"You started it!"

"You're so fucking cute, you know that?" He lowers himself down to your lips, pressing them gently against yours. Your hands get tangled within his hair again, pressing him down slightly onto you so you could feel him, feel his warmth. The kiss deepens quick as Jungkook settles himself in between your legs, your tongues at war with each other. He groans into the kiss, his soft, large hands roaming up your shirt and sending sparks throughout your body. "I missed you." He bites your bottom lip and sucks it gently before pulling back. He helps remove the shirt over your head before unhooking your bra in a swift motion and tossing it off to the side.

"I missed you too." You say at a whisper as he grabs both of your breasts and plants kisses along the surface before swirling his tongue around your sensitive, perked buds. He hooks onto your shorts and panties quick, aggressively tugging them down and off.

"So fucking perfect for me." He says, planting kisses along your sides

"I hate it when you do that." You hiss as he begins part your legs wider, pushing your thighs out as he lowers his lips onto your folds. You truly did hate it - you couldn't stand it only because that shit drove you crazy. Someone like Jungkook calling you perfect, god please.

"Hate what, babygirl?"

"Call me perfect like that." You let out a small whimper when you feel his wet tongue glide against your folds, slowly poking in and out of them as he stares at you from between your thighs.

"But you are. Want me to show you?"

"Hmmmm." You whine. "Quit." He slightly chuckles against your pussy, but continues going to work - slipping in two digits and curving them just to tickle you in the right spots. "Ahhhh, Kook please."

"Mhm." He says, picking up the pace with his fingers, allowing your wetness to glaze them. He suddenly removes them from you short after, a small whine leaving your lips at the loss of contact.

"Ohshiiiiiit. You're gonna make me cum." Jungkook begins to run his tongue up and down your pussy once more, his tongue penetrating your entrance ever so slightly before swiping it up to your clit to suck on it. He motorboats into your pussy, his head moving right and left in such a quick pace that you're tugging on his hair and jutting your hips into his mouth. His tongue starts to pet your clit with its tip - the repeated movements enough for you to reach your climax, your thighs almost keeping Jungkook in between until you could bring yourself back down from your high. "Aghhhhohhhmygod!" Jungkook smirks as he sits up, sticking his two fingers into his mouth before releasing himself from his sweats and boxers.

"Fuck, you taste so good." He slightly groans. Your breathing hitches seeing his hardened member, making you drool at the sight. You already feel dizzy imagining him filling you up with that thing, but you knew you wanted take care of him first - make him feel good, make him feel special. Take him, every inch. You crawl over and take his cock into your hands, spitting onto it before you slowly stroke him up and down. "Ohhhhhbabygirl." His words mesh together as he tilts his head back. You lower your lips onto his tip, tasting every single drop of pre-cum pooling at the area before running your tongue down his shaft and taking him. You get about halfway before you swirl your tongue around suck, pulling back with a slight pop. You stroke towards the base as your mouth is doing work on the other half of his cock. Jungkook has his hand in your hair, and you can feel his grip tightening as he slowly moves your head up and down along his cock. "Can you take me? All of me?" You nod. "Yeah? Fucking take it then." He spits out as he lowers you all the way down, keeping his tip against your throat until he feels you gag. "Oh, fuck!"

"Fuck!" You say, tears brimming your eyes, ready to stream your cheeks as you watch the trail of saliva from his tip to your mouth fall.

"You're doing so fucking good." He says as he watches you while guiding you down length, bobbing your head a little rougher and more aggressively this time around. Your saliva is damn near dripping out of your mouth, the entire scene getting sloppier by the minute, but you honestly didn't care. You were so turned on that all you wanted after this was for Jungkook to fuck you crazy hard, until you couldn't take it anymore. You were so fucking attracted to this man. "One more for me, baby." He moans, lowering you down his entire length again, his tip tickling your throat a lot longer than the first time that your tears are actually coming down this time around. You cough when he finally pulls you back, more saliva trailing from the tip to your mouth. "See, so perfect for me. Taking me in so well like your mouth was fucking made for me." He grabs your chin, placing a kiss against your lips before gently pushing you back down onto the bed. "Turn around and get on your knees, sweetheart."

"I want you so bad." You whine, his hand trailing down your back as he positions your ass up and gets your face as close to the mattress as possible.

"Don't you worry, princess. I'll take good care of you." He lines himself up, his dick incredibly wet from you sucking him like your life depended on it. He slides in with ease, the both of you moaning loudly at the feeling - the feeling of warmth, and feeling so fucking full, Jungkook is sure he can feel his tip ready to rearrange your guts in this position. He begins slow, one hand on a hip, while the other is in your hair, making sure your face is deep into the mattress.

"Faster, please!" You plead, Jungkook wasting no time to hammer his cock into your pussy. The sounds are incredibly loud and lewd, and you knew your walls were thin as hell. You were sure your neighbors were definitely having the time of their life listening to you getting destroyed. You cry as he groans, his hands now gripping your hair and tugging you back so that he can slightly see your face with the way he tilts it back.

"Ughhhh, shit babygirl. You feel so good, always so tight for me." He moans as he lets out a couple of breaths from pumping in and out of you so quickly. "Ready for me to make you cry again? That's what you wanted, right?"

"Yes." You say, but he tugs your hair tighter.

"I can't hear you."

"Yeeeees!" You whine. "Yes, fuck, please!"

"Say my name."

"Jungkooook." You moan. "Jungkoook, hmmmmmpfh." Your ass almost feels numb from how hard Jungkook is fucking you right now, but it all leads to the pleasure building up inside of you - pooling right at your core. You were sure you could reach your climax again any moment now, but you were trying your hardest to hold on for as long as you could, enjoying every moment of the pleasure he was bringing you. You didn't want this to be over, even though you could go rounds with him if he wanted to. His hand travels from your hair, down to your neck, gripping just right to choke you and keep your head tilted at an angle. Your yes's are becoming inaudible, moans getting lost in your throat that is feeling constricted from his grip.

"I'm gonna cum, sweetheart. Cum with me." Jungkook says as he thrusts harder, the overwhelming sensation enough to send you into the next dimension. The orgasm ripples through your body, your hand gripping onto his wrist as you tremble and look for support.

"FuckkkkknnnnngJungkook!" You manage to yell. He moans loudly as you feel his cock twitch inside of you, spurts of his cum coating your walls warmly and thickly. He gives you two good slow thrusts before he's slowly pulling out and letting his tip stick the cum back inside of you. "Ahhh, please. Kook." You whimper as you fall onto your bed, tears staining your cheeks once more. He smiles as he picks up his boxers and throws them on, tossing you your panties and his shirt to wear. You slip into them without question, Jungkook coming back onto the bed to lay next to you and caress your body to soothe you.

"You okay?"

"Yeah." You sniff, the aftermath of all the tears you've shed from tonight's fuck session catching up to you.

"Babygirl." He chuckles as he wipes your cheeks and plants a kiss on it. "You need to be careful of what you ask for."

"Shut the hell up and pull up the movie, Jungkook." He laughs, watching you shove your laptop over to him. He pulls up the movie on his Amazon Prime account and snuggles with you under your sheets.

"Sooo, ready for our date?"

"Should I be preparing?" He shrugs.

"Just want you to have a good night with me." His hands are still caressing your sides under his shirt, light kisses being pressed against the nape of your neck. The warmth, and the feeling of his body pressed against yours makes you feel content. Satisfied. Peaceful.

You felt safe. You felt wanted.

baby we can take it slow, say my name, don't let go, I can hear your body when i pull your hair, what's my name; girl I swear, I can hear your body babe

track ten: body - syd

[luc606]

An Autumn Morning

(by @luc606) Saeyoung feels like he doesn't deserve the life he's built, so you pull him out of it with warm fall drinks and some light yard work.

Saeyoung x MC (MC is referred to as "you" but never by name) 1649 words, FLUFF, a little sadness but not enough to call it angst, just domestic Saeyoung with domestic brother-in-law (to be) Saeran, takes place like a year after SE, roughly based on this ask

also technically goes for mystictober day one: favorite character

Saeyoung was not accustomed to paying attention to the changing seasons.

Before, there were only days, months, and years that were spent mostly in the bunker, the time passing carefully, but not precisely measured, like sand through an hourglass. Saeyoung was used to that kind of life, and once he met you, he had found new insecurity in how well that kind of life had seemed to fit him. Now that he was with you, finding his way into a normal life little by little, there were days where it was all he could do not to retreat back into his dark office and wait for you to inevitably get tired of acclimating him to being average.

Today was one of those days.

He’d woken up before the sun, though he could only tell this by the time programmed sun lamp you had asked him to build. He’d installed them all over the bunker, and it only somewhat made up for the complete lack of windows.

Inexplicably, you’d made the bunker almost cozy. Especially now, as summer turned to fall, you’d gently folded throw blankets over the back of the couch and bought seasonal candles for the kitchen and living room.

On days like this, these touches made Saeyoung’s heart ache. Couldn’t you see that this wasn’t right for you? His love deserved a sweet suburban house or a cheerful cottage with a bay window in the dining room, not a windowless bulletproof box that had once been home to daily illegal activity.

You stir next to him in bed.

“Saeyoung?”

On days like this, he doesn’t think he deserves that name.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up,” he says, rolling over to face you. To make himself face you.

“You didn’t,” you say. And then after a pause, “Are you okay?”

Saeyoung knows that he should tell the truth, tell you that he’s having one of those days where he feels like he doesn’t belong in your light. He doesn’t want to, he wants to lie and say everything is okay.

He says nothing, but his hesitation is enough for you. You’ve spent three years with the man now, you know how to tell when he’s feeling this way.

“Baby,” you say, pulling him into you. “Go back to sleep.”

Despite himself, he does.

In the morning, when the sun emulating lamp has begun to turn subdued shades of orange and pink, he finds that he is alone in the bed. You’d let him sleep in, which he almost never does. He lays for a moment, feeling foggy, but soon the door opens to reveal you in your robe with two cups of coffee. He almost smiles, smelling the pumpkin spice creamer you’ve sweetened the coffees with.

“Good morning,” you greet him with a careful smile, handing him his sweet seasonal drink.

The coffee is in a set of matching mugs that had been an engagement gift from Jaehee. His is red and yours is pink, and there’s a curve in both of them that forms a heart when they’re placed together. He loves that you go out of your way to use these mugs more than any others you own.

Saeyoung takes the coffee from you and takes a sip, it’s warm and almost too sweet. He knows you put just a bit more sugar in his coffee because he likes it better that way, even if he should learn to drink it more plain.

“I hope you slept well,” you take a seat next to him on the bed. “We have some yard work to do.”

“Yard work?” he asks, his surprise coming out as a laugh.

Before, the land surrounding the bunker was unruly. The trees and tall grass camoflauged the entrance, so he’d never felt the need to trim the grass or leaves. Now, though, the yard – he had a yard now – was fully under the jurisdiction of his brother. At the recommendation of his therapist, Saeran had begun the project shortly after you’d moved in as a way to redirect anxious energy. He’d planted flowers and shrubs all around the bunker and had laid a garden path around the front leading around to a small herb and vegetable garden in the back. It was Saeran’s pride and joy, and Saeyoung had stayed mostly out of it. He’d only mowed the lawn once, and even then Saeran had complained about the lines he’d made with the mower not being straight.

“It’s fall,” you say, emphasizing this by raising your mug of pumpkin spice flavored coffee. “The yard is covered in leaves, so you should rake them.”

“Isn’t that Saeran’s job?” Saeyoung asks, incredulous. “I mean he never lets me do anything in the yard, I really shouldn’t–”

You cut him off, “I told him you’d do it for him, I’ll help.”

Saeyoung knows what you’re doing here, you’ve done it before. When he gets down, you’ve found that keeping him busy and out of his thoughts helps him overcome the feeling faster. But yard work? This was a new low.

“It’ll be fun!” you add, taking his silence as dissent.

Saeyoung sighs, but nods. Success.

You and Saeyoung finish your coffees in relative silence, you sit perched in your robe reading something off your phone while your fiancé shivers against the cool morning air, bundled in your large comforter as if it’s a shawl. When he finally finishes his coffee (you suspect he’s sipping extra slowly, putting off getting out of bed) you take the mug from him and tell him to get dressed. He makes no move to get up, but he’s miraculously clothed when you return from the kitchen.

He looks good, it’s not often that your nerdy Saeyoung looks like this – rugged, a little messy. He’s wearing jeans and an old red flannel with the sleeves rolled up to expose his forearms. He’s pushed his hair back, as he’s accustomed to wearing it now, but without any product, a few of his curls are stuck up in the air while a few fall back onto his forehead.

You kiss his cheek gently as you slip past him towards the closet and he offers a small smile.

“Give me just a second and I’ll be ready,” you say, already slipping off your robe in the closet entrance.

Saeyoung pretends he isn’t looking as you change into a pair of jeans.

“Can I wear this?” you ask, holding up a long-sleeve red t-shirt of Saeyoung’s that he normally wears to work out or clean.

“I’m surprised you’re asking,” he jokes.

You do usually steal his clothes without permission, he doesn’t ever mind.

You shrug. “You’re right there, I’m just being polite.”

He laughs, and his face turns just a bit pink.

Once you’re dressed, you take Saeyoung’s hand and pull him out the door, through the living room, and all the way out to the small garden shed he’d built for Saeran as a gift on the twins’ last birthday.

From the shed, in which Saeran has lined up every tool neatly on pegs along one wall, Saeyoung retrieves the rake.

“How are you supposed to help if there’s only one rake?” he asks you.

You laugh, “I’m here for moral and emotional support, of course.”

Saeyoung, feeling lighter already, whips the end of the rake towards you and gently taps your backside with the handle.

“Lazy~”

“Hey!” You laugh, lunging towards him and catching the rake in your hands and pulling your fiancé towards you with it. “Saeyoung!”

Saeyoung laughs easily, and you can feel the waves of his bad mood melting off. His moments of sadness, depression from a life’s worth of grief and anxiety pushed away for years, are fewer and further between now. He’s seen a therapist a few times, a colleague that Saeran’s therapist recommended, but most of his healing was done by seeing his brother survive and learn to thrive outside of the harsh conditions of their childhood and his time spent in Rika’s misguided care.

“And it’s not that much,” you say, “I’ll put all the leaves in Saeran’s mulch pile while you’re raking and we’ll be done in no time.”

You pull the rake towards yourself again, this time catching Saeyoung’s hip to steady him while bringing him in close.

“Are you feeling better?” You ask, voice low. “You look like you’re feeling better.”

Saeyoung startles, like he didn’t expect you to acknowledge out loud that he was feeling any kind of way at all, but quickly recovers before saying, “Yes, actually.”

He smiles as you pull him down into a gentle kiss, you feel him fail to keep the smile off his face as he kisses you back. His face is warm from the last little bit of summer sun that’s pouring down on you both.

“I love you,” you say, finally pulling away.

His eyes are intense as he pulls back to look at you.

“I love you too.”

☆

Later, after the fallen leaves have been relocated to Saeran’s compost and are no longer threatening to ruin the lawn, Saeran thanks his brother for raking the yard, not with words, but with a warm cup of hot chocolate and a soft grin.

Saeyoung’s heart soars when he sees that Saeran has made a cup for you, too. He thinks he’ll never get tired of seeing his two favorite people continue to love and accept one another as family. It’s everything he’s ever wanted.

He finds himself in a completely different state now than when he had awoken this morning. He settles into the couch next to you, able to appreciate the cozy autumn decor that you’ve adorned the bunker with. He no longer feels like this place is stifling you, he understands that you’re grateful for the security the home provides you, and he feels grateful too.

[spaceorphan18]

Head Over Feet (1/14)

After Kurt and Blaine broke up the second time, they went their separate ways, living their separate lives in New York City. Fifteen years later, a retirement party brings them back together into each other's orbit, with surprising, for both of them, consequences. Are they able to fit each other into their already complicated and messy lives? And are these newfound feelings real? Or just echoes of a past relationship?

Canon Divergent after Season 5.

Ao3 Link

A/N: Yes, I know I have a bunch of other WIPs - and I am still working on all of them! But I’ve been so excited about this one, I just want to get it out there... 

Thanks to @snarkyhag for the beta. :) 

***

Chapter 1: Loser Like Me (Part One) 

Fall 2028

Blaine is dreaming.  It’s all fuzzy, but there are hands… familiar hands that are on him clasping his own, cupping his face, trailing down, down, down to where it feels good.  He begins to feel the warmth spread throughout his body.  He feels good, so good… Lips are against his, rough and hungry, he is enveloped in want, in need… He lets out a groan, letting the pleasure overtake him.  He reaches out, desperate for more, but as he does so, that good feeling starts to float away.  He makes a grasp for it, but it’s no longer there, and he is left cold and wanting more.  

And then his alarm goes off.  

Blaine wakes up hard as a rock.  He can’t remember the last time he had a dream about sex.  Maybe when he had been a teenager? Or possibly college?  But he doesn’t remember any of those dreams ending him with his dick actually aching to fuck something.  

He stares at the ceiling for a good long moment, thinking the urgency will eventually wear off.  He turns his head, slightly, to see the outline of his husband on the other side of the bed.  He doesn’t bother to wake Sean -- not that morning sex had ever been a part of their marriage.  They’re on opposite schedules; the show Sean is doing the costumes for is in the middle of its workshop, and if it gets picked up by a good producer, it could mean big things.  And Sean is cranky in the morning, anyway.  

Blaine can just as easily take care of himself.

He gets up, slowly.  The erection still hasn’t died down, and Blaine begins to wonder if this is even normal for someone his age.  Maybe he should call a doctor.  He laughs to himself.  Or maybe he should jack off and not worry about it.  

He moves off the bed, having to go around it to get to the bathroom.  In the process, he has to step over a huge pile of Sean’s clothes.  Blaine takes a moment to pick them up, and throw them into the laundry basket.  Two seconds, it takes.  Is that really so hard?  

The clothes also smell like booze and cigarettes, which means Sean has been staying out late with the company again.  It’s fine, they used to both go all the time to the afterparties and the clubs, but some time after Blaine hit thirty, he didn’t find them as enticing any more.  Something about feeling almost twice as old as everyone around him killed the spirit.

Blaine gets into the bathroom, turning on the light, and easily stripping out of the boxers that he wears to bed.  His dick is still throbbing to be touched, so he gives himself a few hardy strokes before turning on the water for a shower.  It’s weird, he thinks, as he gets in.  Sex used to be the a staple of his marriage but, as the years passed, he and Sean manage once a week if they’re lucky.  He hasn’t really missed it, or maybe he hasn’t noticed he missed it.  Because getting off with just his hand doesn’t normally feel so good.  

He indulges a little, thinking about that dream, and those hands on him.  Letting someone else take over, take control, take him apart.  He thinks, at first, of Sean, pulling from the catalogue of their sex life.  Sean being the one to hold him, and stroke him, and suck him down.  But as much as he tries to concentrate on his husband, the scene keeps pulling away, and there’s someone else there -- a faceless man with deft hands who knows exactly how Blaine likes to be touched.  

He speeds up his hand, and yet somehow it doesn’t feel like enough.  He braces himself against the tile of the bathroom wall, fucking furiously into his hand until his hips take on a life of their own.   Eventually he comes, jolting hard into his hand.  The orgasm tears through him, and he lets out a near scream that he hopes doesn’t wake Sean.  

It takes a moment to come down, and he leans against the tiles, enjoying the blissed out feeling as the hot water sprays over him.  He’s not sure what had brought all that on but he does feel more relaxed.  He’s been too pent up lately.  Maybe he does need to start seeing his therapist again…

***

On Wednesdays, Blaine only teaches one class and he is back home by noon in time, usually, to make himself lunch before heading out to do afternoon errands (or stay in and grade papers).  Before the workshop started, he and Sean would usually make Wednesday nights their together time.  But those have faded away over the past year or so.  Blaine has gotten used to spending the evenings alone, to the point that when Blaine arrives back at the apartment that afternoon, he’s startled to see Sean there making himself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.  

Sean stands against the counter, chewing the sandwich slowly as he watches Blaine put his bag and coat on one of the kitchen table chairs.   “You okay?” Sean asks, taking another bite.  A bit of crust lands in his red beard, and he brushes it off and onto the floor.  Blaine shakes his head, now he understands why the floor is always so filthy.  “You’re looking at me as if I’m a stranger in the house.”

“No, it’s fine,” Blaine says.  Maybe it’s not.  It feels, weirdly, like an intrusion on his private time, but the thought is laughable.  His husband is home -- he should be happy.  Blaine begins to rifle through the fridge, pulling out a container of tuna fish to have for lunch.  They could eat together, at the table, like civilized people.  “What happened with the workshop?”

“Remember me telling you about Ashleigh and Karyn and their obsessive ambition to be the first to win a Tony? Or whatever the fuck they’re actually looking for.”

“Yes.” No? Maybe? He can’t keep all of the cast members of Sean’s show straight.  But Blaine doesn’t really feel like listening to a who’s who tangent.  He finishes making the sandwich as Sean explains further.  

“Well, I don’t know how it started, but I know how it ended -- with the both of them in the hospital,” Sean says.  “So with both the lead and the understudy out, the workshop is on hold for a little while.”

“Wait, who was the lead again?” Blaine asks.  Sandwich made, he grabs some chips from the pantry and a bottle of water and heads to the kitchen table.  Sean follows him, leaving his now empty plate on the counter, before taking his usual seat across from Blaine.  

“Karyn,” Sean says, stealing some chips from Blaine’s bag.  “The blonde.”

“Right.”

“So, I guess you have me home for a while.”

Blaine plasters an immediate smile to his face.  He’s not entirely sure how to feel, though.  “Are you still getting paid?”

“Yeah,” Sean grabs more chips.  “Marv’s gotta girl lined up in case it takes longer.  Shouldn’t be more than a week.”  

“Ah.”  

Sean taps his fingers on the table.  Blaine sips from his water bottle.  There’s a siren outside somewhere, and the upstairs neighbor’s dog sprints back and forth, causing the ceiling to creek.  

“I paid the water bill,” Sean says after a long moment.  

“Great,” Blaine says.  “I still say we should get reimbursed for the neighbors tapping into our pipes.”  

“I’ll talk to Greg about it.”

“Great.”

Blaine eats his sandwich in a strange sort of silence as Sean watches him.  He feels like they should talk about something.  What do they usually talk about these days? Work? The apartment? The new musical mini-series Netflix put out?  Sean doesn’t ask how Blaine’s class went.  Blaine doesn’t offer to talk about it.  Nothing really feels like a good conversation.  

Which is why Blaine decides to mention it… “So, I had the weirdest dream last night.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, it was some kind of sex dream,” Blaine says, licking the tuna from his fingers.  “I woke up hard as fuck.”

Sean gives a smirk.  “I can’t tell if this is your way of telling me you want to fool around tonight, or if you’re concerned and want to see a doctor.”  

Blaine laughs into his water.  “I decided I’m too young still to have dick problems, and jacked off in the shower.”  

Sean’s eyes go wide with amusement.  “Shame I missed that show.  If you’re still feeling it, we can mess around after lunch if you want.”

Blaine gives an unenthused shrug.  “I’ve got some errands to run.  Then I’m having dinner with Santana tonight, but if you want to catch the late show, it can be arranged.”  

“We’ll see,” Sean says.  “I told some of the guys I’d meet them out for drinks tonight.  There’s a new bar opening over in SoHo.”

A flash of irritation runs through Blaine.  It’s not the turning down of sex that bothers him.  He really doesn’t want to spend his evening at a bar in SoHo.  He really doesn’t want to spend the evening with Sean’s questionable friends ‘Way-Too-Flirty’ Don and ‘Drinks-Too-Much’ Steve.  He doesn’t even really want to go out, especially when he has to teach an early morning class.  But he’s not there to tell Sean what to do.  

He finishes off the sandwich without a word.  It’s not like Sean feels differently about Santana.  

“You know, speaking of Santana, that reminds me,” Sean says, getting up from his seat.  He goes over to the counter and brings back a red envelope.  “This came for you today -- from McKinley High.”  

Blaine takes it with interest.  He gets mailers from Dalton Academy all the time -- even if he didn’t graduate from there, he had still technically been an alumni.  But something from McKinley?  That just seems weird.  It isn’t the right time for there to be a reunion.  He has no idea what it could possibly be.  

He opens it up to find a black and gold invitation. “Oh,” he says a little fondly as he reads it.  “My old glee club teacher is retiring.  He’s inviting everyone back for homecoming weekend to celebrate.  Cute.”  

Sean grabs at the paper after Blaine lets it drop back to the table.  “Do you want me to come with you?” he offers quietly.  

“Would you want to go?” It’s not often that Sean comes with him on the rare occasions he heads back to Ohio.  

Sean hesitates before he speaks, and snacks on another couple of chips before replying.  “I probably should stay to make sure Marv has a handle on this whole Ashleigh-Karyn thing.  That is, unless you’d like me to go.”  

Blaine stares hard at the paper.  It’s not like he couldn’t go.  He doesn’t have to teach on Fridays, and the school is having a holiday weekend that same weekend.  In theory, he could and it wouldn’t be a problem.  “I don’t even know if I should.”

“Maybe go to see your parents, Blaine,” Sean says.  “It’s got to be at least a few years since you’ve seen them.”

“I saw them last year at…” Blaine considers.  Has time really flown by so quickly? “Huh, I guess it has been at least two since that Christmas we spent in Ohio.” He sits back in his chair to think about it.  

“Hey, Blaine…” There’s suddenly a heaviness in the air.  There’s something behind Sean’s eyes that hadn’t been there earlier.  Something that Blaine catches glimpses of every once in a while.  Something that they’ve been avoiding and, for a moment, Blaine fears that Sean is actually going to bring it up.  The room gets darker, just a cloud passing by the sun, but everything is still -- too still, and Blaine’s heart begins to race.  The moment passes, though, and whatever Sean had been about to say changes.  “I guess talk to Santana about it, and see what she says.”

Blaine stares down at the paper again.  Suddenly, a weekend away from the apartment, away from the city, away from Sean doesn’t seem like such a bad idea.  “Yeah, I’ll do that.”  

***

The fall wind is sharp in its crispness, but it’s still a nice enough evening to go for a run in Central Park.  Three days a week, he and Santana Lopez go out for a jog then grab dinner at a nearby taco truck so they can sit and gossip.  Santana, who’s office isn’t far from where they meet, is already waiting for Blaine when he arrives.  She is stretching her legs, bent over in a V, wearing her usual black spandex pants with a bright, blue bomber jacket that billows slightly.  Her designer sunglasses rest on the top of her head.

Because he has been thinking about high school all day, he can’t help but think that she hasn’t changed much.  Her face has hardened a little with age, but Blaine knows her beauty care routine is much more extensive than his, and he knows how much she spends on wigs and dye jobs.  Today, though, her long, black hair is pulled back tightly in a high pony, amusingly reminiscent of how she wore it in high school.  

“Okay, so I have some hot goss for you today,” she says, immediately after they exchange pleasantries.  She waits for him to do his own stretching, but continues to launch into her news.  “So, you remember how I’ve been endlessly talking about the cute redhead on the floor below?”

“The one who works as a secretary for the greasy lawyer?” Blaine pulls his leg back.  The stretching feels nice, he is glad he is able to get out of the stuffy apartment in some capacity tonight, even if he can tell Santana is a bit more ramped up than usual.  

Santana nods.  “So for weeks now, it’s been flirty glances, and unbuttoning buttons to show off some pretty pricey brassieres, but you know, nothing direct.  Well, today she comes up to my floor, claiming the bathroom is not working in their offices -- and I checked, she was totally lying -- and she’s wearing this tight, and I mean tight, nearly see-through button-down.  With no bra.  She had on no bra.  I could see her fucking nipples, Blaine.”

“The nerve,” Blaine teases.  They begin to walk down their usual path.  They have a good quarter of a mile before they usually start jogging, though they might go the first half of their two miles at a walking pace just so Santana could release her pent up energy verbally.  

“Who doesn’t wear a bra in a professional setting?” Santana continues.  Blaine arches an eyebrow at her.  “Okay, so I have totally done it, but I promise you it was warranted.  Anyway, I think she’s trying to kill me.  I took all of my restraint not to pull her directly into the janitor’s closet and make out with her.  And play with her tits.  I can’t unsee her fucking hot tits, Blaine.” Santana grumbles, putting a fist to her head, as if it’ll magically erase the image.

“You know, you could ask for her number,” Blaine suggests, for maybe the third time since Santana has started talking about the woman.  “Or, you know, find out her name.”  

Santana looks at him sharply.  He knows, she just wants a minute to bitch and revel in her janitor closet fantasies, but it’s not in him not to offer suggestions.  “Her name is Liz.  I at least found that out today.”

“Well, that’s a start,” Blaine offers.  

“Alright, what’s up with you?” she asks abruptly.  “Usually, you’re talking my head off about school, and I’m always having to catch up to you.  You’re trailing me by nearly a foot.  Something’s going on.”

Santana’s senses are rarely off, he shouldn’t be as surprised as he is by it.  He tries to quicken his pace but she is right, he is been in his head all day.  “I’m thinking of going back to therapy.”  He says it simply, laying it out as if it’s another fact, and not something that’s been weighing on his mind.  

She gives him a concerned look.  “Is this a ‘just you’ thing? Or a ‘you and Sean’ thing?”

“A ‘just me’ thing,” he admits.  They are nearly at the lamp post where they usually start to jog, but he’s not feeling as up to it as he had been when he arrived at the park.  “Sean’s staying home for a few days, and I’ve been restless lately…” he doesn’t quite say the things he’s thinking.  “And, I don’t know, I had a weird sex dream this morning.  I’ve been off all day.”

“Well, what does Sean think?”

“He offered to fuck, but I told him I had it taken care of.”

“What, no, not about the sex dream,” Santana stops in her tracks.  They have to wait a moment for an older woman walking a doberman to pass in-between them.  “What does your husband think about you going to therapy?”

“It didn’t come up.”  

“God, Blaine,” Santana says, exasperated.  “Well, if you really would rather spend your evening with me than reconnecting with your husband who is, as you well know, built like a fucking viking, then maybe therapy is what you need.”

It’s more complicated than that.  She knows some of it, but maybe not all of it, and it’s more than Blaine would really like to get into on their fairly public walk through Central Park.  But Santana has also grown to be one of his closest friends and, if nothing else, he can confide in her.  

“I’m going to set up an appointment,” he tries to play it off as just another thing.  She knows better, and gives him one of her infamous staredowns.  “And if it’s something I think I need to continue to do, I’ll keep you informed,” he tries to assure her.  

“You better, Anderson.” Her voice is sharp.  “I may have a cold, dead heart, but I want you to be happy.  And you know I’m always going to be blatantly honest with you, so I say this with all the love I can muster, but I don’t think you are.”  

“I know, I know…” He’s not not happy.  He loves his job.  He loves his little apartment.  He loves being in one of the greatest cities in all of the world.  He and Sean are…  “So, hey, did you get your invitation to Mr. Schue’s retirement party?”  He begins to walk again.  He knows he’s avoiding the conversation, so does Santana.  But she rolls with it.  

“He’s retiring?  Dear god, he’s barely over fifty.”

Blaine lets out a little laugh.  “Well, that’s what the invitation said.”  

“And, fuck, no, I haven’t gotten one,” Santana says.  “Though, it’s been a couple weeks since I’ve checked the mail.  Who sends invitations through the mail these days?  Just start a text chain like a normal person.”

“Would you go?” He asks.  He’s been back and forth on the idea all day.  Does he really want or need to see anyone from high school again?  Possibly?  Would it be nice to get away for a weekend? Most definitely.  Can he really afford to skip town for a little while? That is the big unanswered question.  

Santana bites her lip, thinking it over.  “I mean it really depends on who else got these magical invitations.  Oh, god, will Rachel Berry be there? Please tell me Rachel Berry will be there.  Because I have got to see how little Miss TV-Princess does in a place that does not revolve around her ego.”

Blaine has never had the issues with Rachel that Santana had, but he does remember college.  He does remember Funny Girl.  “Sorry, Santana, I don’t actually have an answer for you on that one.”

Santana throws her hands in the air.  “You keep in touch with everyone, right?  Well, isn’t she part of everyone?”

“I think she’s become a little out of my status level,” Blaine replies, with a smirk.  “Besides, I don’t keep in touch with everyone .”  Truth be told, Santana might be the only person he talks to from high school.  At least on a regular basis.  For all the promises made during the time of staying BFFs forever, real life managed to get in the way of the magical thinking.  

“Alright, let’s work it out, right now, cause this will be the determining factor,” she says.  She pulls at a leaf from one of the trees above her, causing the branch to bounce.  It nearly whacks him in the head, which causes her to giggle a little and shake her head.  “Let’s see… Rachel Berry, possibly.  Said ego might drive her back to the place where it all began.”  

“Sam Evans will probably be there,” Blaine says.  “He does still live in the area.” He and Sam don’t have a lot of contact, but occasionally they’ll do a long distance Fantasy Football thing or chat about a new video game they both own.  He hopes Sam will go - he could use more of that laid back charm in his life.  

“Artie clearly won’t be,” Santana continues.  “I know, because I’m the one who put him on the European press tour for his new film.”

“I doubt Tina will be there either,” Blaine adds.  “She just had her third baby, and she and Ron probably don’t want to make the trip from Boston to Lima with three young children.”  

He thinks of Tina’s Instagram, the only way he really communicates with her, and the constant updates for her hectic life.  She’s happy and looking good, and way too busy to drop everything and run back to Ohio.  Blaine makes a note to give her a call at some point to congratulate her formally on the new baby, even if he had already left a cute note on the Instagram pictures.  

Santana is too caught up in her thought process to say more about Tina.  “Finn won’t be there for obvious reasons.  What the fuck happened to Puck? I doubt he has an address to even send anything to.  Quinn’s too prideful to drag her divorced ass out of Connecticut.  You know she’s already taken a new lover ?  She’s in her mid-thirties, and still hitting up the sugardaddies.  I mean, have some goddamn respect for yourself.”

“Well, Mike’s in Chicago,” Blaine offers.  Mike had been part of the Chicago Ballet for a long time, and had since become a dance instructor.  Blaine had been at Mike’s wedding to his wife, Marie, a couple of years ago, and he’s another one whom Blaine wouldn’t mind seeing again.  Maybe he, Mike, and Sam could have a nice guys’ night out that weekend.  He’ll have to get in touch.

Santana nods.  They walk by a woman sitting on a bench with two screaming children.  Blaine feels bad for the woman, but he and Santana share a look -- both of them glad that they don’t have to deal with that kind of hot mess at home.  

“Then there’s Mercedes,” Santana says, looking up and out into the world.  “Goddess among women.  We do not have the privilege to be in her presence.”  Santana laughs at her own comments.  “Seriously, though, I love my girl, but I don’t judge her for continuing to live her best life.”

“What about Brittany?” Blaine asks, tentatively.  He has no idea if this is a sore subject for her or not because he doesn’t think Santana has brought her up once over the course of their friendship.  

Santana becomes stoney-faced, as if not to give herself too much away.  “No,” she says simply.  “Brittany’s living in some commune in LA where she does Fondue for Two and runs a cat babysitting service.”  

“That’s a thing?”

“In LA it is.”  A fond smile climbs on her lips.  “In any case, as much as I am always up for seeing my girl again, I highly doubt she’ll be back.  I mean, we were still hooking up for a while the few times I made it out to LA, but recently she’s found someone a little more… permanent.  And before you go on pitying me, let me assure you, I am more than fine.”  She’s quiet for a moment as she reflects.  For a person who is almost always open about her thoughts, she’s decidedly reclusive when it comes to matters of her heart.  Blaine knows better than to try to pry it out of her. “Anyway, if we’re going to be upfront about exes, I believe there’s only one person left, if we’re not counting random chicks with mafia dads or weird Irish exchange students.  And I’m sure we both know that there’s no way in hell Lady Hummel is coming back to Lima, Ohio.”

“Oh!” Blaine says, as if it’s a complete revelation.  Kurt hadn’t even entered his mind, and it is surreal to think that his brain didn’t go there first.  

“Oh, please, don’t tell me you actually forgot about Lady Hummel and his heartbreaking ways,” Santana scoffs.  “Pretty sure years of therapy couldn’t undo all the trauma that did.”

She isn’t wrong, and she would know, because she helped pick him up a year after everything had happened.  But that’s the funny thing -- it’s not that he doesn’t remember Kurt.  (God, he remembers all of Kurt.)  He doesn’t remember the person he used to be when he had been with Kurt.  There had been a time when he would have shifted the Sun and the Moon and the entire Earth for Kurt Hummel.  A time when his heart had pointed in only one direction.  And a time so dark that when Kurt had ended it, Blaine didn’t know how he would ever move on.  

And yet he did.  

The person he had been is now such a faded memory he can barely remember what those feelings were like.  Kurt Hummel is just another name from his past, a person who, yes, helped shape him into the person he is now.  But long gone are the emotions once attached to that name.  Funny how things can change.  Someone could mean so much to you at one point in time, and yet after time…

“I didn’t forget about Kurt, clearly,” Blaine says. He grabs her arm, and loops his own through it.  The jog isn’t happening today, and he’s fine with that.  Some days, it’s best just to have the company rather than the exercise.  “I just think you’re right, unless Burt is dying or something.  But doubtful that he’ll return for a silly retirement party.”

“You almost sound disappointed.”

Blaine shrugs, and gives a smile.  He doesn’t know how he feels about whether or not Kurt will be there.  He hasn’t thought about him so long.  But he does know that after all this talk of the past, maybe he is ready to go back and see if anyone else is feeling the same way.  “I think we should do it.  Go back.  I mean, why not?”

Santana shakes her head.  “Oh, this whole idea sounds like the worst, but if there’s a chance I get to make-out with Quinn Fabray again, then I’m in.”

For the first time in a while, Blaine feels a little lighter on his feet.

***

Not a few weeks later, Blaine is on a plane back to Ohio.  

He and Sean talked it over and, while Sean had been technically free to go, they agreed that maybe it would be better if Blaine went himself; the unspoken dialogue being that space isn’t the worst thing they could give each other.  Blaine had not been able to help but be fidgety with his wedding ring during the flight but, intent on giving himself a weekend off from real life, he drowned himself in his favorite podcasts, and had tried not to think about his life in New York.  

The party is on a Saturday afternoon, but he’s there on Friday so to spend time with his mom.  They end up having a nice lunch together, and she takes him shopping.  She’s as feisty as ever, somehow managing to remind Blaine of Santana, and he wonders if she’s always been like that or if that’s a new trait of being in your sixties.  They end up FaceTiming with Cooper and the kids, and Blaine indulges his little nieces by singing them Disney Princess songs.  The whole day weirdly feels like the family they usually are only around Christmas time, but he’s in good enough spirits that he doesn’t question it.  

Later that night, his dad comes home, and they have pizza before his parents go off for one of their social benefit parties they often frequent, reminding Blaine of the old days when his parents were never home on a Friday night.  He doesn’t mind so much because McKinley’s Homecoming Football game is that night.  

His original plan had been to meet up with Sam since Santana’s plane isn’t coming in until tomorrow.  But Sam declined, stating that Mercedes Jones is coming late that night and she needs a ride from the airport.  Sam didn’t ask Blaine to come with him.  Blaine calls up Mike, who is happy to hear from him, and says that he will be at the party but is only going to make the trip to Lima once on Saturday.  He doesn’t bother trying to get a hold of anyone else, and ends up going to the game alone.  

Coming back to McKinley feels like going back in time, and yet the kids running around make him feel entirely too old to be there.  He half expects Sue Sylvester to pop out and start yelling at the cheerleaders, or Mr. Figgins to make some sort of half-time speech, but the world of McKinley has moved on, even if the campus has remained remarkably the same.  The game is fun, but kind of boring, and he’s not surprised when the team loses by seventeen points.  Still, seeing the array of alumni all cheering around him, he feels a strange sort of connection to the place in a way that he really didn’t when he actually went to the school.  It’s a bit surreal.  

Afterwards, not ready to go home to an empty house, he drives around for a bit, until by chance, he drives by Scandals, Lima’s decrepit excuse for a gay bar.  Feeling somewhat amused, a little nostalgic, and a lot in need of a drink, he decides to grab a beer for old times’ sake.  He decides, on a whim, to put his wedding ring in his pocket.  He’s not actually planning anything, but it’s also not like Sean wears his anymore, anyway.  

Scandals is even more in a sad state of affairs then he remembers, even if ‘Funk-It-Up-Friday’ is trying to give the place some of that Mid-Western Charm.  He orders a bottled beer, and sips as he thinks fondly about the time he watched Dave Karofsky try to line dance.  God, that had been so long ago…

“I’m guessing this place rarely sees a man as gorgeous as you.  Mind if I buy you a drink?”

It takes a moment for Blaine to realize the pick-up line is directed at him, but he does instantly recognize the voice.  Much to his shock, when he turns around, he’s face to face with a much older, and yet still dazzlingly magnificent, Kurt Hummel.

[hermannsthumb]

you should totally do something with ksci janitor’s vamp newt it’s so just so good

i sure will! in a vampire mood this weekend. @k-sci-janitor's vampire newt found here. warnings for quick mention of drinking, allusions to sexy stuff, and also the different kind of drinking you'd expect from a vampire fic (tho on the vague side)

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

The circumstances that led Newt down the unwitting path of immortality and general un-dead-ness are, in hindsight, honestly kind of embarrassing. It'd be one thing if he could say it happened in the pursuit of, like, knowledge, like the fierce jellyfish sting scar on his wrist leftover from a research expedition when he was twenty-two or the equally fierce one on his knee received in response to his question (at the age of five) of what would happen if I jumped out of this very tall tree?, or even something unrelated to his extensive biology career, something impressive, y'know, Van Helsing style, something like tracking down some vampire king and barely escaping with his life (un-life?)—not what really happened, which was little more than a bad date. And not even the worst date that Newt's been on, if you can believe it.

Newt was young and stupid then. He still is young and stupid, technically, though the former by appearance only. (Eternally pushing thirty. If he could've picked, he would've done twenty-eight, just before his handful of grey hairs started cropping up. Newt's had almost forty-five years of staring in the mirror at those four fucking grey hairs. He gave up dyeing them around the nineties. Not worth it. Still annoying.) He liked to do what young and stupid people did, like get stupid tattoos, and have a stupid haircut, and get drunk at stupid punk shows and not stumble home until he'd had at least one regrettable hook-up with a stranger and maybe lost his wallet. (The two were often related.) That particular thing was what did him in that night. It was a different time back then, man—if a dude showed even the slightest inkling that he ran in Newt's sort of circle, if you caught his drift, Newt fucking jumped at the chance.

(The band was on their second set of the evening and Newt had already screamed himself hoarse with singing along. He'd ducked outside in a back alleyway for only a second to get some fresh air, the club suddenly too hot and smokey for him to handle, and was just about to go back inside and close out his tab for the night when he realized he wasn't alone. There was someone—he was sure—lurking in the shadows a few feet away. He could hear breathing. He could see—eyes, maybe, in the dim neon light of the bar sign overhead. "Hello?" he'd called.

"Have a light?" the person called back.

They emerged from the shadows, and Newt felt himself relax at once. It was some spooky-looking guy he remembered seeing in the club, leather jacket, boots heavier than Newt's, dark hair and eyeliner. Tall. Newt remembered him, firstly, because he thought he was hot, and secondly, because he swore he caught the guy staring at him at least three times, and to Newt, that was as good as any pick-up line. He was wagging an unlit cigarette at Newt now. He was taller than Newt thought he was back in the bar—much taller, at least a full head on Newt. His eyes were a golden-brown, almost yellow, like a cat's, and Newt found himself unable to tear his own away from them. "L—light?" Newt echoed.

The guy stuck the cigarette in his mouth and arched a perfect eyebrow. Newt didn't smoke, but he did keep a lighter on him for occasions like this. He fumbled through his pockets for it while the guy stepped closer. "I was watching you," he told Newt, while Newt raised the lighter to the cigarette, "in there."

The flame danced and glinted against his eyes. Newt swallowed. "Uh-huh?" he said.

He flicked the lighter shut, leaving them both bathed in nothing but pink neon. A hand slid up against the wall next to Newt's right shoulder. Another plucked at the left lapel of his jacket. Newt was still staring at those eyes. "What's your name?" the guy said, in a puff of cigarette smoke.

"Um." Newt's leather jacket was being pushed off his shoulders. He felt his long hair being tucked to the side of his neck. All at once something seemed in snap in Newt—some reminder of where he was, and what he came here hoping for in the first place. Some hot dude was eyeing Newt up all night long, and now he was actually coming onto Newt, and Newt was about to get laid. He grinned. "Newt," he said. "Just call me that. You were watching me, huh?"

"All night," the guy said.

Newt's jacket hit the ground with a soft thump. A knee was being pushed between his. Newt felt his cheeks heat up a little—he wasn't used to people being this forward with him, and especially not in a semi-public place like this. Usually they at least made a show of offering up their apartment first. "What, um, what for?" he said.

They were kissing. Newt was clinging to the back of his jacket. And then he was kissing Newt's neck, and then he was—

"That kinda hurts," Newt mumbled. "Um, dude, I think your—your fuckin', tongue piercing cut me, or something. It's—"

It was hard to keep his eyes open. His neck felt weird. The guy was into biting, apparently, biting really hard, and yikes, that was going to leave a super embarrassing hickey that Newt would have to explain to his students somehow on Monday, but it also felt really good, like, Newt was maybe getting off kinda good, and Newt thought, dizzily, that he should at least return the favor before he finished up and collapsed in a happy heap on the ground. So he did.

The guy pulled back with a hiss. "Ow. What—?"

Newt tasted something coppery in his mouth, and he panicked and swallowed on instinct. "Oh, shit, dude, I'm sorry," he slurred. His voice sounded like it was a million miles away. "I was trying to be—sexy. Um." There was blood on the guy's chin. He was staring at Newt in something akin to horror. Dark circles were spotting Newt's vision. "I think you cut your lip," he said, and then he passed out.

Newt was alone when he woke up. It was still dark, too. He walked the two miles home, collapsing in bed, fully-clothed, just before dawn, and he didn't wake up again until sunset. He forgot his jacket, but at least he remembered his wallet this time.)

So, anyway, Newt thinks he can be forgiven if he...embellishes stuff a little when, for the first time in his whole long life, he finally spills the details to someone. Also, no way is he admitting the truth to Hermann of all people.

"There were a bunch of murders in the area at the time," he says, while Hermann, angled on his side next to him in bed, watches him raptly. It's kind of weird pillow talk, but their pillow talk rarely isn't weird. Usually Hermann will launch into a critique of Newt's latest pet theory before Newt's even caught his breath. At least he very courteously waited for Newt get a glass of water from the bathroom first this time. "Really brutal ones. Like, throats torn out, blood drained. Really nasty shit. Everyone was saying they were some kinda bizarre wolf pack attacks, but I knew better."

"Of course you did," Hermann says, running his hand down Newt's chest, and Newt can't tell if he's being sarcastic or not. (He has a feeling he is.)

"You bet," Newt says. "It took me months of, um, super hard research. Finally I hunted him down to this—" Newt debates the coolest lair possible of a vampire, and then remembers Lost Boys, which, even though he resents it slightly for totally stealing the vampire vibes he was going for, is still a kick-ass movie. "—this weird cave, where he lived. The king of the vampires. I won, obviously, but he fought back, and he managed to infect me just before I hammered the, um, the wooden stake into his heart."

"So courageous," Hermann says. He reaches up and tucks a piece of Newt's long hair back. Hermann being totally cool with the whole vampire thing, and maybe even possibly into the whole vampire thing, is probably the last thing in the world Newt expected from him. They're no strangers to hooking up during long late nights of science, but Newt swears it's gotten more frequent. "You must've been terrified."

"Nah," Newt says, though he remembers the glint of the flame off those yellow eyes, and he shivers. Hermann notices; his eyes, not yellow, but a warm shade of brown that makes Newt feel like he's being wrapped in a blanket, soften. If Newt could still blush, he would. "I'm—um—I'm pretty brave."

Newt hadn't exactly been planning on telling Hermann about the whole thing, but (last week) he had the very unfortunate timing of beginning a late-night dinner just as an oblivious Hermann strolled back into the lab to pick up his forgotten pair of glasses. To his credit, he only freaked out a little when he saw Newt draining a blood bag like a fucking Capri-Sun, and even then (after what felt like ten years of horrible, horrible silence) all he said was "You're the one who's been stealing those from medical?"

Look. Newt hasn't drank from a human being the entirety of his un-life, and he doesn't plan on it any time soon. He's...a vegetarian. Effectively. It's sort of the reason he picked up a medical degree along the way once he got tired of breaking into blood banks. Even if it's still a little ethically dubious to steal blood like that, at least he's not swooping around on unsuspecting people like that—goth asshole who swooped in on him did. (Newt's never managed to find out who he was—he suspects he was some sort of vampire drifter in town that night just to find a victim. And Newt just had to think with his dick at the worst possible time.)

Hermann tucks another strand of Newt's hair back. Newt also did not expect how fast Hermann became cool with the whole thing, but on the other hand, giant aliens are clawing their way out of the ocean on a bi-monthly basis these days. It's hard to be skeptical about most things. ("Well, it does make logical sense," Hermann had said with an eyeroll. "When you consider some of your rather more bizarre quirks, I mean. I ought to have guessed it ages ago. I suppose that's why you have that awful haircut," and that stung, because yeah, Newt hasn't felt like changing it up since the seventies, and why should he, it kinda rules? but he just laughed it off and said, "You're one to fucking talk, dude!") "Newton," Hermann says now, gently, "what actually happened?"

Newt sighs. Hermann always knows when he's lying about shit. "I was making out with a vampire in an alleyway and then he bit me. And—um—I kinda didn't notice at first, 'cause it felt... good."

"Mm," Hermann says. The corner of his mouth twitches up. "That's more along the lines of what I expected. That, or you were hounding him for details like a proper biologist and he got tired of answering your inane questions."

"Very funny," Newt says. "Ha."

Hermann rolls away from him and stretches his arms above his head. Newt watches his throat work as he yawns, swallowing down a sudden lump in his own, and he feels a surge of something hot and—alien—in the pit of his stomach. "Over forty years," Hermann says. He picks up Newt's discarded sweatshirt from the floor and tugs it down over his head. "You must get terrifically lonely."

Newt half-shrugs. "I guess. I'm kinda used to it by now." His dad (who never brought up how Newt's aging seemed to be at a standstill when they saw each other, not once) is long-gone. Newt's tried dating, but no one's ever seemed to be into it as much as he is—and besides, it's not like he could ever do the actual til death do us part thing unless he went against every ethical bone in his body and made someone like him. When the internet became a thing, he considered making a forum or something to find more of his kind, but the thought everyone just being like the guy who accidentally turned him in the first place terrified him and he killed the page before it even left infancy. So, without any better ideas, Newt forged some paperwork and leaned pretty hard into the world of academia to fill up his sad little hole of a heart, resigned himself to casual flings with anyone who seemed interested, and it mostly worked. Mostly. And then the kaiju came along, and then so did... "You make it a little bit better," he confesses.

Hermann lays back down next to him. "I do?" he says.

Newt thinks he sees something like that hot, hungry feeling he felt in his stomach flash behind Hermann's eyes. He nods.

Hermann suddenly kisses Newt, pulling him down on top of him, and then tugs the collar of Newt's stolen sweatshirt down below his collarbone. He drags Newt's hand up to press against his throat. Newt feels the erratic beat of Hermann's pulse beneath his fingertips, his heart pounding against his ribcage (pressed up against Newt's silent one), and he almost moans. "Have you ever...?" Hermann murmurs, gazing up at Newt through his dark eyelashes.

"N—never," Newt stammers. "I told you."

"Do you want to?" Hermann says. Newt tries not to gape. "Just a bit at a time, whenever you need. You wouldn't have to steal those silly blood bags anymore. And—" He hesitates. "I admit I am curious. About the sensation."

"Um," Newt says. "I—"

He feels something sharp poking his lower lip. Fangs. His fangs. Oh, shit, he's never had that happen before. He forces himself off of Hermann before he does something stupid.

"Maybe, um, maybe later?" he squeaks, while Hermann just smiles at him.

[maximumjinx]

Steven Universe Gravity Falls AU

~Yknow what they say, if you run out of content, ya gotta make it yourself. This is a ? shot (I might continue or not who knows not me) please don’t ask for more I have 18 unfinished fanfics on this site.~

California was nice, Steven had to admit. The people were nice, the food was fantastic, and the weather was splendid. It reminded him a lot of Beach City. Though there were just so many people, and traveling north, Steven was beginning to long for something small and simple again.

Oregon was the perfect place for that, right?

“Ronaldo wants pictures of Bigfoot, and if anyone can find him, its you Steven.” Petey’s voice was faint on Steven’s phone speaker, tossed into the passenger seat as Steven blindly picked a highway exit.

“Sure Petey, but couldn’t Ronaldo just go to a circus?”

“Not big feet Steven,” Petey emphasized, “Bigfoot.”

“Saying it twice isn’t helping buddy.” Steven was half paying attention. He was focusing on the winding roads and the looming trees surrounding him. Deep, in the pit of Steven’s stomach, he felt something start to tug him toward one direction farther away from the highway. He wasn’t quite sure if it was a good or bad feeling yet.

“Forget it, I’m going to take a blurry photo of that mean Gem in the woods and say its Bigfoot.”

“Just don’t let Jasper catch you, she’s no joke when she’s angry.”

“I saw her ripping grass out of the ground I think I’ll be fine. Later dude.”

Steven heard a small click and smiled to himself. He’s happy to see how far the people of Beach City have come and how they’ve taken to the gems. He remembers when the Crystal Gems were once the outcasts of town that locals warned you to stay away from.

He looked up to see a welcome sign.

“Gravity falls. Well, that’s a funny name.”

—

Steven wanted small and simple but he feels he may have overshot it.

This small town had exactly three attractions. A town museum that mentioned marrying woodpeckers (Steven couldn’t figure out if that was a normal human thing, like taxes and velcro), a small diner, and as one local described it ‘some tourist trap’ deep in the woods. It was a sticky summer day and the former two attractions didn’t have airconditioning. Steven gambled on the last stop in hopes of stretching his legs and maybe finding a source to the strange feeling in his gut. It had become much stronger since he entered this small town. Alluring, but nothing related to Gems as far as Steven could tell.

He parked in the nearly empty lot and stepped out. Jacket wrapped loosely around his hips, Steven made his way inside.

A girl that looked about 13 was petting a pig on the front porch. She was incredibly reflective, and depsite the heat wore a knitted bedazzled sweater that made her glow like a disco ball in the sun.

She looked Steven up and down as he approached, a wide smile taking up her face and Steven saw bright braces with colored bands.

“Hi!” She launched upwards, startling the pig away, “I’m Mabel, but you can call me anytime.” The girl winked and stuck out her hand, palm facing the floor.

Steven blinked.

“Mabel, stop scaring away the customers!” A gruff voice yelled through the screen door, and soon an older man stepped out in a suit, wearing a fez and eyepatch.

Immediately the old man squinted at Steven, sizing him up.

Stanley Pines knew this teen wasn’t local, but he wasn’t sure if he had any money. For all he knew he was another boy trying to hit on his giftshop cashier, Wendy.

Oh well, a customer is a customer.

“Come in, come in, and see our mystical and magical wonders!”

“Magical?” This could be it, Steven could figure out why this town has felt off. Maybe it was gem related after all.

Quickly this older man who had introduced himself as Mr. Mystery gave Steven a tour of what looked like failed taxidermy projects. Now Steven may have a lived a sheltered childhood, but he felt pretty confident there was no such thing as a Sashcrotch. And so far, nothing had felt magical or mysterious.

“That concludes our tour! Here is our mistifying giftshop and it’s purchasable wonders!”

“Right...” Well, at the very least he was able to spend some time in airconditioning.

There was a girl behind the desk in plaid that looked about Steven’s age, and just a half inch shorter than him. She looked bored, flipping through a magazine as a young boy that looked a lot like Mabel made googly eyes as he swept by the door.

Steven guessed there was no harm in asking around.

“Hi, I’m Steven.” He smiled easily, walking up to the register.

“No refunds, even if an exhibit bit you.” She sighed, peeking up before turning back to her magazine.

“Oh no, nothing bit me, I just wanted to know something.”

She looked up to get a better look at Steven and gave a small smirk.

“Sure, but only because I like your shirt. Mr. Universe merch, now that’s a deep cut.”

Unbeknownst to Steven, Dipper Pines would had been watching the exchange felt a twinge of uneasiness as this out of towner talked with Wendy.

“Have you ever seen anything strange or weird actually happen in this town?”

Wendy’s smile dropped.

“Why do you ask?” Her eyes flickered to Dipper, just for a moment, and that was all he needed to rush over.

“Excuse me sir, please buy something or exit the store.” Dipper spoke in the deepest voice he could muster.

Steven looked over with a questioning expression.

“Oh sure uh-“ He blindly reached for the wad of bills that his dad had given to him before he left. Steven pulled out a hundred dollar bill and put it on the counter. Wendy looked up baffled as Steven stuffed the other cash back in his wallet.

“Boy was I wrong about you kid!” Mr. Mystery, seemingly materializing out of nowhere, now bounded over. He had loosened his tie and lost the eyepatch which turned out he never needed.

“Whaddya wanna know? I’ll tell you everything. There’s gnomes in the woods you know-“

“Grunkle Stan!” Dipper protested loudly, dragging his Stan away and harshly whispering at him.

“Did you steal that money?” Wendy asked as Steven watched the pair whisper fight in the corner. He turned back to the girl and gave a sheepish smile.

“Uh no, my dad gave it to me before this roadtrip. He’s actually Mr. Universe.”

Wendy lit up.

“No freaking way! Your dad is Mr. Universe? I only got into him since he managed Sadie Killer and the Suspects and they always perform covers of his songs on tour, I can’t believe he’s your dad!” She rambled, stars in her eyes. Steven beamed, he loved when people praised his dad’s music. Greg really deserved it.

Steven learned Wendy’s name and they swapped stories back and forth, only interrupted as the girl from outside slowly rose from the behind the counter beaming.

“A cute musician that loves weird stuff, take me now.” She swooned. Steven blushed profusely, not used to the attention.

“Sorry, my girlfriend Connie probably wouldn’t like that very much.” He said gently. Mabel looked him up and down and pouted.

“I can wait, but not forever.” She warned, and winked, bounding to break apart her grunkle and Dipper, who are now whisper screaming with arms flailing.

“I wasn’t going to mention that Dorito shaped jerk! Just the normal stuff!”

“It’s dangerous! He could be a spy, or government, or another stack of gnomes!”

Steven raised an eyebrow and looked at Wendy. She chuckled and shrugged. Steven carefully approached them.

“He can hear everything you’re saying anyways so might as well tell him!” Mabel interrupted, nodding towards Steven as he came up.

“If it makes you feel any better, I’m definitely not government.” Steven technically didn’t exist at all. He never had a social security card and didn’t have a birth certificate.

Dipper only glared. Rich strangers with an interest in the paranormal didn’t come through gravity falls without some kind of agenda.

Steven hated the conflict he was starting. No information was worth this family fighting.

“Okay,” he surrendered, hands up, “I’ll just go. I’ll stick around town until tomorrow if you change your minds”

“Wait Steven-”

“Let him go Wendy,” Dipper glared as the boy in pink walked out, “We can’t trust him.”

“But I was going to ask for Sadie tickets...” Wendy groaned, defeated.

“There’s something weird about him.”

“Great!” Mabel beamed, “He’ll fit right in.”

~.~

Steven wasn’t crazy about sleeping in his car, but was seriously considering it after seeing the state of his motel room. It looked like it hadn’t been used in decades, a thin line of dust covering every surface. He was also pretty sure they didn’t even have free ice. 

“Wish Pearl were here..” He mumbled, exhausted. He curled up on top of the covers, fully clothed, and let sleep take him.

Being Steven Universe however, meant rest was sure to allude the half alien. 

Steven found himself in a dark space, fog all around him. Before a word could come out of his mouth he heard a fast, repetitive muttering. 

“Stranger...Wendy looked pretty today..Can’t trust...Tell no one...Ford isn’t here..”

“What, the-” Steven quietly walked toward the source of dialogue, and saw the faded silhouette of the boy from the Mystery Shack. His back was turned to him, but Steven recognized the blue vest and mosquito bitten legs. 

“I thought I was over the dream hopping.” Steven spoke a tad too loudly, starting the young boy - Dipper.

“What-” Dipper’s eyes grew wide in panic, and the boy fell back harshly.

“No, no, you can’t be in my head!” 

“Wait, I’m not-” Steven tried to reassure him, stepping carefully towards the boy but Dipper let out a screech of terror, sweat gathering around his temples.

“Bill sent you didn’t he?! He’s not really gone- he’s going to hurt Mable again-” Dipper began to hyperventilate. 

“Dipper please,” Steven took a step back, arms in the air in surrender. 

“I-”

“I’m not going to hurt you I swear on the gems.” He placed a hand over his heart. “This is a total invasion of privacy but it’s something that happens when someone’s emotions are out of control-”

“How are you here?” Dipper demanded, scrambling to his feet. “Tell me what you are and what you want.”

“I’m just passing through!” Steven insisted, then lowered his tone to calm the younger boy. “I’m kinda of magnet for weird stuff. I just wanted to help in case anything was going on.”

“We deal with things just fine around here.” Dipper spat, then watched as Steven deflated. He seemed tired, like he hasn't slept well in a while. 

“So what are you anyways? How can you be here?”

Steven winced, and laughed nervously. “It’s kind of a long story..”

Dipper raised and eyebrow and swept his arm around the void dramatically. 

“You have until dawn.”

~

“I thought that was a conspiracy theory, it wasn’t even covered by major news outlets.” Dipper look exhausted, cross legged on the unseen floor as he ran his hands through his hair. 

“I think Garnet is pretty persuasive when it comes to government and reporters. They all kinda fall in love with her.”

“She’s the one that’s really two aliens?” 

Steven shook his head with a small smile. “It’s hard to explain but yes, I guess that comes close.”

“That’s actually insane. I’m insane, aren’t I?” Dipper stood up, leaving Steven on sitting next to an empty space. “It’s been too quiet around here and now I’m so desperate for weird, that I’m making it all up in my head.”

“I get that feeling.” Steven smiled without humor, “but no, this is real. I’ll prove it when you wake up.” Steven felt a shift, the fog in the void getting denser. 

“Sooner than I thought, you’re an early riser huh?”

Dipper looked back at Steven, panicked. “You’ll come to the Shack again right? In just a bit?”

Steven smiled. “Promise.”

~

Dipper woke up to his sister braiding his hair. Mabel still had her pjs on, and a make up kit next to the bed. Dipper frowned, tasting strawberry shortcake. 

“Stop testing party looks on me, Mabel.”

“Stop having my face structure and maybe I will.” She grinned, covered in blue glitter. 

Dipper quickly washed up and got dressed for the day, feeling like he was anxiously waiting for something but not quite remembering what. 

He felt like he had a strange dream last night...

He quickly remembered, choking on cereal as Steven walked into the shack right as it opened. Hair slightly frizzy from the heat and eyes strangely tired. Maybe dream hopping took energy that he anticipated. 

“Steven!”

“Meal ticket!” 

“Grunkle Stan.” Mabel chastised as Dipper rushed over to the older boy. 

“Good morning everyone.” 

Dipper stopped short, slightly hoping that everything he experienced wasn’t just his imagination. That everything exciting and weird and interesting wasn’t always trying to kill him, ruin his life, or steal his candy. 

Steven looked tired, like he had been doing this much longer than Dipper, but he had still come out with enough energy to smile. 

“Not insane?” Dipper asked hopefully, quietly. Steven snapped his attention from his Grunkle and Mable bickering down to the Dipper. He gave a reassuring smile, eyes quite serious. 

“Not insane.”

[writingsbychlo]

💭hi chloe, congrats! could u do a dating ff!tommy head canon (like the ones you have for stiles and mitch) i miss him 🥺

under the cut! i will also link this to my masterlist, because I know how much y'all like these!

PDA

Tommy is kiiiiinda in a middle ground about PDA

He doesn’t feel the need to go over the top, but he isn’t shy about it either

He’ll kiss his girl when he wants, and he isn’t shy of affection either

Little nudges and pokes and a lot of random hugs

On a call together, he keeps it professional, of course

But in your own time? He’s a free man, and he’ll love his girl if he wants to

At the house, he can be extra with PDA, just to annoy everyone

If he gives you a little kiss, or does something which anybody teases him for, he goes into overdrive, just to annoy them

A lot of ‘my love’, ‘angel’, ‘light of my life’, ‘love of my life’, ‘hey pretty girl’

A lot of flirting too

“Oh, damn, good thing we’re firemen because you are smokin’.” and such

He will one hundred percent grab your ass and run away

You’ve actually become pretty used to it, actually

Little slaps, or pinches, or grabs, and then he just runs away laughing

Thinkin’ he’s doing something

But he still blushes when you flirt back, in literally any situation

Using a fire-related pick-up line

“Well, damn, lieutenant, you’d better come over here and handle me then.”

And his jaw would drop and he’d get cute pink cheeks

Which definitely leads to some PDA because he’ll grab your face and kiss you

The PDA gets more after a hard call but nobody says anything then

Hand holding and cuddling and playing with hair

Soft kisses and whispered reassurances while holding each other’s faces

Honestly, he’s not big on making an exhibition, but he will give out a lot of love

HANGING OUT

Hanging out happens a lot

For starters, there’s all day at work, especially on slow days when you might not even get a case

At the beginning of the relationship, that would be awesome, because ‘honeymoon phase’ and all

But once you’ve moved past that and into a more serious relationship, that can be an issue

Like if there’s been a dispute at home or one of you is on edge

So hanging out is pretty much never alone at work

And you try to break it up into chunks too

Making sure you have a girls night with Brenda at least once a week

And once a week he has a guys night, and you plan them on separate days

You actually have too much hang out time on your hands, and it can be a strain

Once you’ve got it down, though, it’s easy

Having TV shows that you binge together, and will never watch without the other

Cleaning and doing household chores together always becoming fun

Especially when you build a playlist for these jobs, and end up dancing and singing together

Also, cooking together

Which is actually usually just one of you cooking, and the other sitting on the counter just to chat

Grocery shopping alone, and making appointments alone

Just so that you always have time apart, to keep things distanced

DATE NIGHT

Date nights are hard to plan when you live together and have such busy jobs

You rarely ever actually feel the need to go out and about to have a date

Really, you just want to get in your comfies and relax together

At first, you both kind of force yourselves to go out

Making bookings and dressing up and going out for dinner

You feel like you owe it to yourselves at the beginning

Even though you don’t need to do the small talk and whatnot

After that, drive through dates in the middle of the night, or going on walks in the park count as dates

And after that, you honestly stop counting dates

You’re just together

Long before you move in together, you’re already basically living together

You drive home from work together, and choose who’s place to crash at

So dates as a concept are pretty irrelevant after a pretty short amount of time

SEX

Oh, don’t even get me started on this

He’s always horny after regular cases

Watching you go into ‘action mode’, he loves it

And you feel the same about him

Definitely having hooked up in the showers a few times at work while you were still in that phase

His hand over your mouth and trying not to let the sounds be too obvious

Trying to keep quiet and failing at it

You’re pretty sure everyone knows, but nobody said anything

Also fucking in one of the firetrucks and the ambulance

When you get a little more self-control, morning sex is usually the way forwards

Because you’re both always so tired after shifts

So morning sex is usually the way to go

If it is morning sex, it’s always sloppy and clingy and passionate

Slow thrusts and wandering hands and deep kisses

Shower sex is also a regular visitor in the morning sex regime

“It’s hot, and easy clean-up, and it’s hot. I see no downsides.”

He loves shower sex

However, if you’ve been out with the team, you’re probably both a little tipsy

Team nights lead to drinking, lead to Thomas openly saying how much he loves how hot his girlfriend is and getting wandering hands

Also kinda sloppy and clingy sex

But a lot hotter

Because you have more energy than mornings, and you’ve got a little liquor behind it

So it’s the times when you both get a little wilder

Day off sex is different, though

Day off sex is much more like making love than just fucking

Because it’s a lazy day, so you’re both in pyjamas

And he’s just turned on because he loves you so much

It’s quite literally just ‘seriously, you’re so cute and I love you so much’ sex

Wearing his oversized shirts and sweatpants and odd socks

And he’s wearing plaid pants or sweats and old shirts

Literally nothing sexy about it but damn you just have so much love

So those are the days where he takes you apart piece by piece

Slow and deep, so much love and kisses

Dirty talk is more just loving confessions

It’s not “I’m gonna have you screaming my name” like drunk sex or morning sex

But it more like “I’m gonna love you forever, I swear it”

Yeah, he’s always clingy, though

AFTERCARE

Big on aftercare. Big big big.

He’s always affectionate but he’s extra affectionate after sex

Brushing your hair back out of your face

If he got messy, he gets a cloth and cleans you up

Plus a lot of cuddling

“You want anything? Some water, I want some water. You want a snack?”

Sometimes you do, sometimes you don’t

If you do, he helps you out on some loose clothes and makes something simple like poptarts

If you don’t he gets you water when he gets his own and brings it to bed

Always helps you get back into some kind of pyjamas afterwards

Even if it’s just throwing them to you if you’re not completely fucked out

Cuddling under the covers afterwards

And it doesn’t get awkward, either

two seconds later, once you’re all cuddled up, he’ll jump right in with “so, guess what my mom texted before-”

And he just skips into the gossip and chatter without any awkwardness

THINGS YOU STEAL FROM EACH OTHER

Ohhh a lot

You wear a lot of his hoodies and shirts and coats

He likes things to be comfortably big on himself, so they’re quite large on you

He steals your slippers and fluffy for a while

Your place has hardwood floors but his has carpets, so when he comes over, his feet get cold

He stretches out your socks and slippers

So you start buying them bigger so they’re comfortable for him

He doesn’t realise until he sees you trip over the extra-long toe length one day

So he buys you your own

You now have like 15 pairs that are alternated around

Honestly, each other’s phones

What do you have to hide from him? You work together, you live together, you have the same friends

So, you use one another’s phones

To get in the groupchat and just reply, or to call someone or send a text

It’s really just about whoever’s phone is closest

He steals your netflix account before moving in

And you steal his spotify premium

His car

It’s cooler and has a smoother drive and you like it

So you like to drive his car around a lot

He always subtly complains about it

“That car is my baby.”

“I thought I was your baby.”

“You’re my angel.”

But he always hands over the keys willingly

And he complains about adjusting the seat after you’ve used it

But he buys the air fresheners you like

PICK UP LINES HE LIKES TO USE

A lot of straight-up firemen puns

“Get rid of your smoke detector, sleep with a fireman.”

“The fire might be out, but you’re smokin’ hot.”

I’m a fireman. I’m an expert in what’s hot.”

But he’s also soft and cheesy and in love with his paramedic girlfriend so

“I’m glad you know CPR, because you just took my breath away.”

“Do you have a band-aid? Because I scraped my knees falling for you.”

“If you’re here, who’d running heaven?”

“Your hand looks heavy, want me to hold it for you?”

“I just stole a kiss. Want it back? Come get it.”

GOING ON CALLS TOGETHER

He's a professional little baby

He won’t let his love for you get in the way, because he knows you’ll yell at him for it

He has a job to do, and he learned the hard way that he has to prioritise that

A lot of arguments and tearful confessions and deep chats made the understanding

But that doesn’t mean you don’t have a few traditions

If it’s just a regular case with him going into a building and you staying outside, it’s the usual

Whispered reassurances as a plan is formed

Before you lock your pinkies, and pull each other close, and kiss your thumbs

It started because you kept bumping your head on his helmet when you tried to give him quick kisses

And then getting in trouble for kissing on the scene when one of the local papers reported on workplace romances

And you aren’t technically doing anything wrong but it made you both mad

So it became a pinky lock, and kissing the edges of your own hand

Because that’s the best you could get

However, if you have to go into a building, he checks your kit himself

You gave up fighting him on it

The only way he was gonna feel reassured was if he’d checked it all himself

Just allowing him to do so at this point

Bumping your helmets together softly before you go inside

When you go inside, you always walk behind him

He never directly demanded that when you were working out boundaries after an argument

But you know it makes him feel better

Always sticking close to his side, and remembering the flashlight technique he’d taught you if you wander off

After cases, when you get back to the firehouse, you always have reassuring little kisses

And that’s his time to support you

Always letting you check him over, even when he’s not hurt

Because he knows that it makes you feel better

And if you have to take a detour to the hospital with patients, he makes sure he has a mug of tea and a snack ready for you when you get back

[wolf-and-bard]

The Geraskier Soccer Parents AU of my dreams (in an early morning strike of weird-brain):

-Geralt knows he isn't the best dad ever. He tries so goddamn hard, but his job is demanding and consumes so much time and even with Ciri being seven already, he still has essentially no clue what he's doing. He sometimes falls into bed, half-dead, and she is the one to give him a good-night kiss. He sometimes forgets she prefers cheese and puts ham on her sandwiches. He is sometimes too happy to have her sleep over at her friends rather than invite them to their house. He doesn't read her all the children's classics, doesn't go trick-or-treating with her, doesn't even pretend Santa Claus is a thing. He isn't the best dad ever. He tries.

-There is one thing he never, ever fails to do and that is take Ciri to soccer practice. Ciri picks up and drops hobbies, interests, even tastes by the week, still unsure what she wants to pursue, but soccer isn't only her favourite pastime, it's theirs. Practice is twice a week and they have a ritual for it. Geralt picks her up from school and drives her there, she tells him about what the dumb boys in her class said, how her art project is going etc. Geralt is there throughout practice, tucked in between Foltest - a guy who is constantly worried for his daughter Adda to get hurt and also very much anxious for her to do well - and Tissaia - a woman who has not one, but three girls in Ciri's age group and several more in others, and knits like a magician - and watches. He takes notes, silently cheers for Ciri.

-After their games and while Ciri changes, Geralt chats with her coach Vesemir - who used to be Geralt's coach, but now prefers to train the girls' teams - about the progress of the team, upcoming tournaments etc. Sometimes when Vesemir is indisposed, Geralt even leads the practice. When Ciri is all done, Tissaia usually has another hat or mitten finished and Geralt and her drive with their girls to whatever food place the girls are in the mood for. They have an early dinner in which Tissaia lectures the girls on their form and in which Ciri is sometimes allowed to sit on Geralt's lap - but only if Fringilla or Yen don't tease hear about it - but in which she definitely gets to steal his milkshake (Geralt hates milkshakes). Geralt only praises her when they're back in the car and Ciri tells him he's too much of a softie with her and should be more like Tissaia. Should maybe marry Tissaia. They both laugh because that is never going to happen.

-Life is good that way. It's not perfect, it's not without bumps, certainly not without tears and scrapes, but whatever the job, whatever injury Geralt carries with him, however long he has to drive, he never, never ever misses soccer practice.

-The season's just kicked off in the year of Ciri's eighth birthday when Geralt and her arrive early on the field to find the stands empty save for a girl in the most ridiculously colorful excercise clothes and blond hair that is braided intricately around her head. With her is a man, maybe five years Geralt's junior. Ciri bolts towards them with a bright grin and Geralt is hesitant to follow. He knows neither the girl nor the man, but from what he can gather she wants to join the team which is just what they need as they're one girl short this season. "Hi, I'm Ciri, I adore your braids." Geralt holds back on the eye-roll. It's nice Ciri can make friends this easily, but his house already is a shrine for role-playing and board games, dolls and random DVDs and another friend means more things Ciri will want to try out. "Thank you," the girl replies and tilts her head to better show them off. "My uncle Jaskier braided them for me, I'm sure he can do yours too." Both girls look up expectantly at the man and Geralt only really notices him then. He is averagely built with bright blue eyes and an even brighter smile. His floral print shirt has three open buttons and his pants barely reach his ankles. He has the look of a flippant music teacher or a hipster coffeeshop owner. His eyes meets Geralt's and, wait, did he just wink? "I'd love to, dear," he says in a smooth voice that absolutely does not go straight to Geralt's guts. Geralt turns on the spot and decides to pressure check the balls, but he can hear the others giggling as Jaskier braids Ciri's hair. "I'm Priscilla by the way. What's up with your dad?" - "Oh, don't mind him, he's bad with meeting new people." - "Very intense." That's Jaskier. Oh, Geralt will show him intense.

-Ciri invites them to their after-practice dinner. Geralt wants to begrudge her that, but she and Priscilla have latched onto each other in record speed and Jaskier actually fights Tissaia on some of her more strict stances and he braids Yen's and Sabrina's hair too, only Fringilla doesn't want him to touch hers which he respects. Geralt and Tissaia glance at each other. Come to a silent agreement. They may not befriend Jaskier, but he's sunny and so good with the girls and they can use someone like him among their ranks, someone who doesn't have Calanthe's tendency for swear words or Crach's tendency to break out beer in the middle of practice or even Nenneke's tendency to relate everything to the workings of god.

-Jaskier is as faithful as Geralt, perhaps the only one who shows up every time without fail. Shani's parents only drop her off and Crach switches between  Cerys' and Hjalmar's practices and Tissaia sometimes texts Geralt to pick up her girls. Jaskier is there, every time, earlier than any of the others. He chats with Vesemir about his day-to-day, brings home-baked cookies for everyone, he cheers and whoops and tries very hard to understand soccer even though it's evident he doesn't. Geralt never wonders why it's him and not Priscilla's parents that come, it's none of his business. He begins to tolerate Jaskier, but he knows that is where he has to draw the line. He has his hands full with Ciri and his job and his brothers too. He can't afford friendships that extend beyond the field.

-Jaskier doesn't let him off though. He always takes the spot next to Geralt (technically an improvement over Foltest's sweaty visage) and prattles on and on, at least until the game begins. When it does, Jaskier divides his attention between the girls and the stack of paper on his lap which he annotates during practice. It's often either sheet music or the illegible scrawl of pre-teens or wonkily drawn instruments. Jaskier already told him, but from that too it is obvious that Geralt's hunch was right, he is a music teacher. Geralt finds his eyes darting to Jaskier's long fingers, nimble and calloused from the various string instruments he plays. Finds himself glancing at where Jaskier's tongue peeks out in concentration. He listens to the man's ramblings and hums his replies and comes to dislike the days when Vesemir isn't there and he has to focus all his attention on giving the girls a good practice. Not that he doesn't want to, it's just that having Jaskier at his back unnerves him.

-(Jaskier for his part doesn’t care at all about soccer, but he cares about Priscilla so he convinced her parents to let him take her; after that, she said it would be fine if he dropped her off and picked her up again, but Jaskier pretends he is super invested in the sport and the team and he is, but mostly he’s invested in charming Geralt)

-After an entire season of mutual pining and obliviousness, Tissaia decides she's had enough and rallies the other parents. She has Foltest organize a big party at his country house, has Nenneke promise to look after the girls (the woman doesn't drink) and has Crach whip out the finest spirits he has in storage. Calanthe makes a phenomenal playlist and it's Tissaia's job to get Geralt to the party (Jaskier's not a problem) and dress up nicely. Only Aridea, Renfri's stepmother, refuses to pitch in, but she's been a bitch anyway.

-When Geralt picks up Jaskier at his downtown flat he has to grip the wheel of his rover hard in order not to short-circuit. Jaskier has done something to his hair that Geralt can't name but that makes him go woozy inside. He wears a plain shirt that compliments his eyes and hugs his body just right and he looks high on life with color in his cheeks and the most dazzling smile. He's gorgeous. "Darling, don't you look dashing," Jaskier says excitedly and props his feet up on the dashboard, only after kissing Geralt on the cheek. Which is not fair. "Likewise," Geralt mutters, then blushes furiously. He didn't want that to come out, oh no. Jaskier either didn't hear or acts like it and they drive in silence to Foltest's country house. Well, aside from the songs Jaskier hums under his breath, some new composition no doubt.

-At first, Geralt thinks it's a nice enough party for someone who doesn't like parties. Foltest's grilling burgers, they all have cocktails, the music is mellow. Not that that stops Jaskier from swirling an already quite drunk Calanthe over the terrace in dazzling moves. Geralt wants to be swirled like that. "You really have it bad, don't you?" Crach comments when he notices Geralt staring. Geralt downs his beer (he's no cocktail drinker) and tries pointedly not to stare at how Jaskier's swinging his ass around.

-The buzz makes it easier and he relieves Foltest at the barbecue for a bit. But then Jaskier walks up to him, a little short on breath and grinning his most flirtatious little grin. It gives him fucking dimples. Sigh. "Hey you big strong man," Jaskier says. He smells like pineapple and coconut, but isn't even a little drunk. "Jask," he says, pointedly flipping a burger. "Foltest says he has an old karaoke machine in the shed, but it's too heavy for me. Help me?" - "...fine." Geralt gestures for Foltest to keep up with the meat and he and Jaskier make their way along a garden path that winds through thickets and by a small pond. The shed is painted blue and white and Geralt and Jaskier find it very much cluttered, but not dirty which is nice. Geralt only understands it's a trap when it's already sprung on them. The tiny click of the look is almost inaudible over Jaskier's anxious commentary of their search for the machine. There is only one small window and no light Geralt can see. Fuck.

-"Ehm, Jaskier?" he reaches out and gently touches Jaskier's shoulder which has the other man yelp and jump. Which doesn't bode well for what Geralt has to tell him. "I think we're trapped." The effect is immediate. Jaskier goes rigid, his breath catches. Is he afraid? Claustrophobic perhaps? Shit, so he can't be in on the joke. "Jask?" - "Geralt. I know we aren't the closest, but I need you to hold me right now." And he launches himself at Geralt. Maybe he is in on the joke? No, he's trembling too hard for that. Geralt catches him and does as asked. "I am absolutely going to die," Jaskier whines into Geralt's neck and Geralt can't help a small chuckle as he rubs Jaskier's back soothingly. This is... surprisingly nice for a trap. Also likely Tissaia's doing. Geralt has a rare idea. "What if I distract you until someone finds us?" he murmurs against Jaskier's hair and Jaskier draws back a little. In the half-dark his eyes glisten, widen when they meet Geralt's. "You would?" - "Close your eyes, Jaskier." Geralt feels a surge of daring, perhaps granted by the intimacy and seclusion of the situation. He catches Jaskier's lips with his own. When they part, Jaskier grins, shaking from something other than fear. "I thought you didn’t much like me," he whispers. "I thought I got on your nerves." - "Idiot." They kiss again and, faintly, Geralt can hear someone cheer from outside.