#that is not her having a say. and she's already been through various stages of her life where everyone gets a say in her life except her.

[ladysophiebeckett]

La Oferta de Michel \ Los Planes del Futuro de Betty y Armando

[pucked-bunnie]

un-offical ⎜j.hughes

pairings: jack hughes x reader genre: romance ⎜situationship to lovers ⎜christmas special ⎜ warnings: readers ex being a jerk ⎜ jack being a doberman boyfriend ⎜ this is honestly just short and sweet synopsis: things with jack are complicated at the best of times - but they're about to get even worse when he meets your ex boyfriend at your families annual christmas party word count: 3.9k authors note:  this was a combination of two requests i thought went really well together - I hope you all enjoy!! Happy Christmas season!

(unedited)

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“Hon, there is someone at the door for you.” Your mum calls through the house, her voice casual yet carrying that sing-song lilt she used when she knew something was about to stir up excitement. You shoot to your feet, the soft rustle of your dress swishing against your ankles as you jog to the front door. You give her a quick nod of thanks as she drifts away, leaving you alone to handle the unexpected arrival. Standing in front of the door, you take a steadying breath, smoothing your dress and running a hand through your hair to make yourself look a bit more composed. Then, with a slight smile, you pull it open.

“Hey, didn’t think you’d make it,” you greet, the words sliding off your tongue with practiced ease. It’s a lie, of course. You’d been tracking his location on Find My Friends only minutes ago, and the little dot marking his presence had been slowly inching closer to your house, sending a flutter of nerves through your chest. But the moment Jack steps into view, all of those feelings morph into a warm kind of familiarity. There he stands, a neatly wrapped present in his hands, his white button-down pristine and tucked into tailored black slacks. His hair, as always, has that perfectly messy charm, and his grin is enough to light up even the frostiest winter night.

“Come in, come in, it’s freezing out there,” you say, stepping aside to usher him into the entryway. The air outside bites at your skin, a stark contrast to the cozy warmth of your home, but Jack’s presence brings an added heat—an unspoken connection that’s been brewing for months.

“I managed to squeeze it into my schedule,” Jack jokes, his tone light but his eyes sincere. That, too, is a lie. You know it, and he knows it. The moment you had mentioned your family’s annual Christmas party weeks ago, he had cleared his calendar without a second thought. The idea of being here, of being with you in a space so intimate and familial, was something he couldn’t resist. “I…um, got this for you.” Jack says softly, handing over the small present. 

Before you can respond, a voice cuts through the air from the living room. “Is that Jack?” your younger cousin, Emily, calls out, poking her head around the corner. Her face lights up the moment she sees him, and Jack waves, his easy charm working its magic as always. You roll your eyes playfully but can’t help the small smile tugging at your lips.

“It’s Jack,” you confirm, and she’s gone as quickly as she appeared, probably to alert the rest of the family of his arrival. Your stomach flips slightly at the thought. Having Jack here is already complicated enough, given the undefined nature of your relationship. Your family, however, has an uncanny way of reading between lines that don’t even exist yet.

"They're expecting a lot of photos tonight." You say with a chuckle - your hand reaching out to slip into his. “Don't say I didn't warn you,” you tease, leading him into the living room. The scent of pine, cinnamon, and freshly baked cookies fills the air, wrapping around the two of you like a comforting blanket. Jack’s eyes wander, taking in the twinkling lights on the tree, the garlands strung along the bannisters, and the small army of cousins bustling around in various stages of sugar highs.

Just as Jack is about to say something, the sound of the doorbell echoes through the house, cutting through the festive chatter like a needle scraping across a record. You freeze. For a moment, you think about ignoring it, but your mum’s voice rings out again. “Hon, could you get that?” she calls, and your stomach twists with a sense of foreboding.

You glance at Jack, who raises an eyebrow in curiosity but stays silent. With a sigh, you make your way back to the front door. The moment you open it, the air seems to drain from your lungs. Standing there, a crooked grin on his face and a bottle of wine in hand, is your ex-boyfriend.

“Surprise,” he says, his voice tinged with that familiar cocky confidence that used to charm you but now only makes your pulse quicken for all the wrong reasons. You’re too stunned to respond, your brain scrambling to understand why he’s here.

“Tyler? What are you doing here?” you manage to ask, your voice quieter than you intended.

He shrugs, his grin widening. “Your mum invited me. Said it’d be nice to catch up.”

“Of course she did,” you mutter under your breath, stepping aside to let him in. He’s barely in the entryway when Jack appears, his presence filling the space and immediately shifting the dynamic. His warm smile fades slightly as his eyes dart from you to the man now standing too close for comfort.

“Jack, this is, uh…this is Tyler,” you say, the awkwardness of the introduction making your cheeks flush. “Tyler this is Jack.” Tyler extends a hand, his expression unreadable. 

“Nice to meet you,” he says, though his tone suggests the opposite. Jack hesitates for only a fraction of a second before shaking his hand firmly, his jaw tightening ever so slightly.

“Likewise,” Jack replies, his voice calm but his eyes sharp. The tension between them is palpable, an unspoken challenge hanging in the air. You’re not sure whether to laugh or cry at the absurdity of the situation.

“Do I know you from somewhere? You look so familiar,” Tyler says, his grin returning as he doesn’t wait for Jack to respond, immediately greeted by the rest of your family as he steps further into the house, leaving you and Jack standing by the door. Jack’s gaze lingers on Tyler’s retreating figure before he turns to you, his expression softening slightly.

“Complicated doesn’t even begin to cover it, does it?” he murmurs, his voice low enough that only you can hear.

“Welcome to my life,” you reply, your tone half-joking but your heart pounding as you realise the evening is only just beginning.

Jack doesn’t say anything as the two of you move back toward the living room, but you can feel the shift in his energy. His easy-going demeanour has been replaced by a quiet alertness, his jaw tight, his hands slipping into his pockets as if to ground himself. You can’t blame him. Tyler has always had a way of commanding attention, whether or not it’s welcome.

And Jack? Well, Jack isn’t the type to back down from a challenge—even one that hasn’t been fully issued yet.

When you re-enter the living room, Tyler’s already making himself at home. He’s perched on the edge of the couch, chatting animatedly with your dad about some mutual interest in sports, the bottle of wine he brought resting on the coffee table like a trophy. The room buzzes with holiday cheer, but for you, the atmosphere is anything but jolly.

Jack hangs back slightly, his gaze fixed on Tyler. The subtle scrutiny in his eyes makes your stomach twist. You know Jack well enough to know he’s piecing things together, every detail adding fuel to the silent fire building between them.

You’re about to steer Jack toward the other side of the room when Tyler’s voice cuts through the conversation.

“Hold on a second,” he says, leaning back on the couch and pointing a finger in Jack’s direction. “Now I know where I’ve seen you before.”

The room goes quiet, all eyes flicking between the two men. Jack, to his credit, doesn’t flinch. He merely raises an eyebrow, his posture calm but commanding.

“You’re Jack Hughes,” Tyler says, a slow grin spreading across his face as if he’s just uncovered some great secret

“New Jersey Devils, right? My buddies and I are huge fans.”

Jack offers a polite nod, his expression unreadable. “That’s me.”

Tyler lets out a low chuckle, shaking his head in mock amazement. “Wow. Didn’t think I’d run into an NHL star at a Christmas party. Small world, huh?”

You feel Jack’s gaze flicker toward you for a moment, as if seeking reassurance. But before you can say anything, Tyler leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

“So, how do you two know each other?” he asks, his tone casual but his eyes alight with something more probing.

You open your mouth to answer, but Jack beats you to it.

“We met through mutual friends,” he says smoothly, the hint of a smirk playing on his lips. “Been close ever since.”

There’s something in the way he says it—something deliberate—that makes your heart skip a beat. Tyler catches it too, his grin faltering for a fraction of a second before he recovers.

“Close, huh?” Tyler repeats, leaning back again. His gaze slides to you, and you can see the wheels turning in his head. He’s not the type to let things go easily, especially when it comes to you.

“Yup,” you say quickly, trying to defuse the tension. “Jack’s been a great friend.”

Jack’s eyes dart to you, and for a brief moment, you swear you see a flicker of something unspoken there—something that contradicts the word friend.

“Friend,” Tyler echoes, his tone light but with an edge that makes your skin crawl. He looks back at Jack, his smile widening. “Well, I guess that makes you one of the lucky ones. This family’s not exactly easy to crack into.”

Jack chuckles, the sound low and deliberate. “I guess I’ve got a knack for that.”

The subtle back-and-forth isn’t lost on anyone in the room. Your dad clears his throat and starts up a conversation with your aunt to break the tension, while your cousins exchange wide-eyed glances, clearly enjoying the unfolding drama.

You, on the other hand, feel like you’re standing on a tightrope, one wrong step away from sending the whole evening spiralling out of control.

As the night progresses, Tyler continues to insert himself into every interaction, his charm dialled up to maximum.

But Jack doesn’t back down. He’s there, steady and unshaken, his quiet confidence cutting through Tyler’s bravado in ways you’re sure only the two of them fully understand.

At one point, Tyler corners you in the kitchen under the guise of catching up. “So,” he says, his voice low as he leans casually against the counter. “Hughes seems…interesting. You two really just friends?”

You glare at him, your patience wearing thin. “Why do you care?”

“I don’t,” Tyler says with a shrug, but the smirk tugging at his lips says otherwise. “Just curious. Guy like that, I’m sure he’s got plenty of options.”

You roll your eyes, refusing to take the bait. “Jack’s not like that.”

Tyler chuckles, his eyes narrowing slightly. “If you say so.” 

“Why are you even here, Tyler? What made you think it was a good idea to come to your ex-girlfriend’s families christmas party.” You sigh, rubbing your forehead lightly. 

“I told you, you’re mum invi—” 

“Forget the fucking invitation… A normal person would’ve said no.” You hiss, slapping his hand away as he reaches out to place it on your thigh. 

“Maybe I wanted to see if we could fix things - I miss you, baby.” Before you can respond, Jack appears in the doorway, his presence filling the small kitchen like a protective shield.

“Everything okay in here?” he asks, his tone light but his eyes locked on Tyler. The word ‘baby’ echoing around his head as his eyebrows furrow. You let out another long sigh, slapping at Tylers hand again as he tries to reach for you. 

“Peachy,” Tyler says, pushing off the counter and brushing past Jack with a pointed pat on the shoulder. “We’ll finish this later,” he adds, throwing the comment over his shoulder as he disappears back into the living room.

Jack watches him go, his jaw tight. Then he turns to you, his expression softening. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” you say, though your voice wavers slightly. “He’s just…Tyler.” Jack doesn’t press further, but the look in his eyes tells you he’s not about to let Tyler ruin the night—or whatever it is the two of you have been carefully building.

As the evening winds down, the tension between Jack and Tyler remains unspoken but undeniable. And as you walk Jack to the door at the end of the night, you can’t help but feel a strange sense of relief—like you’ve made it through a storm together.

“Thanks for coming,” you say softly, your breath visible in the cold night air.

“Wouldn’t have missed it,” Jack replies, his voice warm and steady. For a moment, neither of you moves, the world around you falling away. Then, with a small smile, Jack leans in and presses a kiss to your cheek, his lips lingering just a second longer than they need to.

The night stretched on, the warmth of the party doing little to ease the nerves that Tyler’s presence had stirred up. He seemed determined to inject himself into every conversation, his charm dialled up for your family’s sake, but every so often, you’d catch his eyes lingering on you, his smirk creeping back like an unwanted shadow.

Jack, on the other hand, was the epitome of steady confidence. He stayed close but never possessive, moving easily among your family members, cracking jokes with your cousins, and even helping your mum carry dessert platters from the kitchen. But his watchful gaze never strayed far from you, especially when Tyler was nearby.

You did your best to avoid being caught alone with Tyler, but the tension was wearing you thin. By the time dessert had been served, you needed a moment to yourself. Slipping out the back door, you welcomed the sharp bite of the winter air, hoping it would clear your head.

The backyard was quiet, the snow glistening under the faint glow of the string lights your dad had hung along the patio railing. You wrapped your arms around yourself, the cold biting through your sweater, when a familiar voice broke the silence.

“Figured I’d find you out here,” Tyler said, his tone smooth as he stepped outside, shutting the door behind him.

You sighed, your breath fogging in the cold. “What do you want, Tyler?”

“To talk,” he said, moving closer. “Just you and me. Like old times.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” you replied sharply, backing away slightly. “You shouldn’t even be here.”

“Come on, babe,” he said, his grin widening. “You can’t tell me you don’t miss it. Us. The way we used to be.”

Your patience snapped. “You mean the way you used to lie and manipulate me? No, Tyler, I don’t miss that.”

His grin faltered, his eyes narrowing. “You’re being dramatic. You’re seriously going to let some hockey star replace me?” You opened your mouth to retort, but before you could, Tyler took another step closer, his voice dropping.

“I still love you. You know that, right? We could fix this. Just say the word.”

You froze, disgust bubbling up in your chest. “No, Tyler. There’s nothing to fix.”

He reached out, his hand brushing your arm, and you flinched away. “Don’t touch me,” you snapped.

“Everything okay out here?” Jack’s voice cut through the tension like a knife - for the second time that night. You turned to see him standing in the doorway, his hands in his pockets, his eyes fixed on Tyler with a sharp, unreadable intensity.

Tyler dropped his hand, his smirk returning, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Just catching up,” he said casually, his tone dripping with false innocence.

Jack stepped down onto the patio, his calm demeanour doing nothing to hide the tension radiating from him. “Didn’t look like that to me.”

“Relax,” Tyler said, straightening. “We’re just talking. No need to get all territorial.”

Jack’s jaw tightened, his gaze flicking to you. “You alright?”

“I’m fine,” you said quickly, though your voice wavered. “Tyler was just leaving.”

Tyler chuckled, shaking his head. “Wow, really? You’re gonna let him speak for you now?”

Jack took another step forward, his posture unwavering. “She doesn’t need to explain herself to you. You heard her. Leave.”

The air between them crackled with unspoken tension, and for a moment, you thought Tyler might actually swing.

But then he scoffed, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Fine. I’m out,” he said, brushing past Jack and bumping his shoulder in the process. “But don’t think this is over.”

As Tyler disappeared back inside, Jack turned to you, his concern evident. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

You nodded, but the knot in your chest tightened as frustration bubbled to the surface. “Why did you bother stepping in, Jack? I could’ve handled it.”

Jack frowned, his expression hardening. “Because he wasn’t listening to you, and I wasn’t about to stand there and let him intimidate you.”

“I didn’t need you to play the hero,” you snapped, the adrenaline making your voice sharper than you intended. “It’s not like I’m your girlfriend or anything.”

Jack froze, the words hitting him like a physical blow. For a moment, he just stared at you, his expression shifting from surprise to something deeper—something hurt.

“You’re right,” he said quietly, his voice steady but tinged with something raw. ��You’re not. But I care about you. And I wasn’t going to let him treat you like that.”

The sincerity in his words made your chest ache, but your frustration hadn’t fully burned out. “I didn’t ask you to care, Jack. This was my problem to deal with.”

Jack ran a hand through his hair, exhaling slowly. “Maybe you didn’t ask, but I’m here anyway. Because I want to be. Because you deserve better than him.”

The weight of his words hung in the air, and for a moment, all you could do was stare at him, the icy wind biting at your skin. Finally, you sighed, your shoulders slumping.

“I’m sorry,” you said softly, your voice barely audible. “I didn’t mean to snap at you. I’m just…tired of all this.”

Jack’s expression softened, and he stepped closer, his hand brushing your arm lightly. “I get it,” he said gently. “But you don’t have to deal with it alone.”

His words settled over you like a warm blanket, and for the first time that night, the tension in your chest began to ease. You looked up at him, your breath hitching as you met his gaze.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

Jack offered a small smile, his hand lingering on your arm for a moment longer before he pulled back. “Come on,” he said, his voice lightening. “Let’s get back inside before your mum starts sending out search parties.” You laughed softly, nodding as you followed him back toward the house. The warmth of the party enveloped you as you stepped inside, but the real comfort was the steady presence of the man beside you.

As the night wound down, the atmosphere in the house gradually shifted back to the cozy warmth you had hoped for. Tyler had left not long after his confrontation with Jack, throwing a half-hearted goodbye to the room before disappearing out the front door. His absence was a relief, like a storm cloud finally clearing, leaving the air lighter and easier to breathe.

Jack, ever the charmer, stayed grounded and helpful, seamlessly blending into the group. He helped your dad carry a stack of empty trays to the kitchen, indulged your youngest cousin in a surprisingly competitive game of charades, and even won over your aunt with a discussion about her favourite holiday baking show. But no matter how relaxed he seemed, his presence remained tethered to you, as though he was silently letting you know he was there, ready to step in if needed.

The evening began to quiet as guests filtered out, hugs and cheerful goodbyes exchanged at the front door. Your cousins had retreated upstairs to play video games, your parents were tidying up in the kitchen, and the glow of the fireplace bathed the living room in a soft, flickering light.

Jack stood near the mantle, inspecting one of the framed family photos with an amused smile. You watched him for a moment, your heart softening as the warmth of his presence settled over you.

“You’re really good with them, you know,” you said as you approached, your voice breaking the comfortable silence.

He turned to you, tilting his head slightly. “With who?”

“My family,” you said, gesturing vaguely. “I think my aunt is ready to adopt you. And my cousins… I haven’t seen them this hyped about charades in years.”

Jack chuckled, leaning casually against the mantle. “What can I say? I’m a man of many talents.”

You laughed softly, rolling your eyes. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

“I’ll try my best,” he said, a teasing smile tugging at his lips.

A comfortable silence fell between you again, the crackle of the fire filling the space. You glanced around the room, the faint scent of pine and cinnamon lingering in the air. Your gaze landed on a small sprig of mistletoe hanging above the archway leading into the foyer.

Jack followed your line of sight, his eyes landing on the mistletoe as well. A soft chuckle escaped him, and he looked back at you with a raised eyebrow. “Really? You’re the one who leaves mistletoe up?”

You shrugged, trying to play it cool. “Blame my mum. She’s the one who insists on the ‘holiday charm.’”

Jack took a slow step forward, closing the small distance between you. His expression softened, the teasing edge giving way to something more sincere. “Holiday charm, huh?” You felt your pulse quicken as he stopped just a step away, the warmth of him radiating in the cool room. The mistletoe loomed above, a quiet reminder of the tradition it carried.

“It’s silly,” you murmured, your voice barely audible.

“Maybe,” Jack said softly, his eyes locked on yours. “But I don’t think I mind.”

His gaze flickered briefly to your lips, and your breath hitched, the world around you fading into the background. The glow of the fire, the faint hum of holiday music from the other room—it all blurred into nothing as Jack leaned in, his movements slow and deliberate, as if giving you a chance to pull away.

You didn’t.

His lips met yours in a kiss that was both gentle and electric, a perfect blend of warmth and tenderness. Your hands found their way to his chest, the soft fabric of his shirt grounding you as the kiss deepened ever so slightly.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested lightly against yours, a small smile curving his lips.

“If you call me your friend one more time I might throw myself off the roof,” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. 

You laughed softly, your cheeks flushing as you shook your head. “We’re not friends?.”

“Not even close.” Jack’s grin widened, and he leaned in to press another soft kiss to your lips before pulling back completely.

The sound of your mum’s voice carried from the kitchen, breaking the spell. “Hon, is Jack staying for hot chocolate before he leaves?” You exchanged a glance with Jack, both of you smiling as the moment settled between you like a secret.

“I think I’ve got time for a cup,” Jack said, his voice warm as he took your hand, leading you back toward the living room.

The night had been a whirlwind, full of tension and unexpected twists, but as you sat beside Jack on the couch, sipping hot chocolate and stealing glances at him, you couldn’t help but feel like it had all led to this—something new and quietly wonderful blossoming between you.

[kaciidubs]

for the LOVE of me… i cannot stop thinking about polyOT8! skz x fem reader where they have a bulge kink 🤭 Lee know and Reader were caught on the sofa whilst the others were finishing up at jyp and then it hit the boys.. there was a visible bulge in your abdomen where minho was BURRIED inside of you (you were basically fucking like rabbits and the boys kinda joined in afterwards) 😽🫶🏻

Darling, OT8 x Reader is my bread and butter, I shit you not - and pair it with exhibitionism/voyeurism? You're out to kill me, I'm convinced.

-

You were never more grateful for owning so many throw blankets, or else you'd be the main reason why the couch cleaning market skyrocketed.

"M-Minho! Fuck, right there!"

Your hands twisted into the soft cotton, knuckles turning white as your body rocked against the covered cushions.

Above you hovered one of your eight boyfriends, face glistening with sweat and black hair messily swept back - his annoyance with it getting in his face was palpable the minute you two started your little fuck-fest.

His face lit up an a maniacal grin, tongue poking out to lick at the corner of his lips, "Right there? Tch, you're saying that as if I don't already know where all your spots are - such a bold little kitten." A breathless chuckle escaped from him as he hiked your right leg higher on his chest, keeping your left straddled between his own muscular thighs. "Since you think I don't know what I'm doing, maybe I shouldn't let you come again, hm?"

Your pussy clenched at the prospect, mind reeling at the thought of being left dry after so, so many highs. "No! Please, please don't, I'll-"

"You'll what?" He challenged, dark eyes sparkling with mischief, "You'll go crazy without having a cock to keep you full? You'll seek out our other partners and beg them to finish what you started?"

Your eyes rolled, body writhing as much as it could in his vice grip, keeping you pinned and open for anyone to see - for anyone to observe the way you were diminished to nothing but a hole for him to use.

"Finish what she started, huh?"

The new voice brought you back to yourself, your gaze focusing on Changbin walking into the living room with Seungmin and Jeongin in hot pursuit. Soon, the space was filled with each of your significant others, crowding around the couch where Minho was - still - driving into you as if nothing had changed.

"You got him all riled up again, huh, princess?" Chris cooed, amusement evident on his face.

"Princess?" Minho scoffed, hooking your leg into the crook of his arm and using his thumb to rub tight circles around your swollen clit, "She's been a brat - thinks what she says goes. I wonder why."

Before either one of them could comment, Hyunjin hissed out a short breath, "Fuck, look at her." To which Felix and Han followed up with a choked gasp of their own. "Holy shit."

Even through your delirium, you could see that his eyes weren't focused on your face - no, they were currently trained on where you and Minho were connected, and it didn't click until you snaked a hand down to your abdomen to feel a difference.

Fucking hell.

On each rough inward thrust, you could feel the shape of Minho's dick bulge against your abdomen and press against the lower part of your stomach.

"Noona, your hand," Jeongin whined, coaxing you into moving your hand back to it's previous position with a sobbed moan.

"Min- Min- I'm gonna-"

"Come for me," he gritted, rutting his hips against yours until your body shook, coming with a sound you could only hope was an attractive moan to say the least.

It took some time for you to come back to your senses, and when you did you were met with the guys in various stages of undress - a new wave of heavy lust dampening the atmosphere.

Blinking up at the second eldest, your eyebrows furrowed, "Min?"

Chuckling softly, he nodded knowingly at your tone, "I finished too, kitten - now, how about we let the others have a go, hm?"

[unedited]

[zaczenemiji]

Curtain Calls and Curveballs III

Kenji Sato x Actress!Reader

Synopsis: Your long-standing feud transformed into a legendary public dynamic where you navigate your high-profile careers, and confront your true feelings.

Word Count: 1,629

Genre/Warning: Confessions, Enemies to Lover, Eventual Romance, Slow Burn

Author’s Note: The last part aaaaaa im gonna miss this 🤧

PART ONE | PART TWO

MASTERLIST

With every passing year, you were getting a step closer to your dream. The stage became a set and curtain calls became wrap parties. You no longer had rehearsals, you had takes.

There’s no audience, there’s cameras instead. Your live performances were now edited ones, and changing costumes didn’t have to be done so quickly anymore.

Projected voices and exaggerated gestures were no longer your thing. You were now more subtle—nuanced. Micro-expressions and quieter dialogues became your new thing.

These are the many changes you went through to become who you are today, the It Girl of Hollywood. You were known for your sharp wit and an even sharper tongue; thanks to the thorn on your side since high school.

Your rivalry with Kenji became the stuff of tabloid legend. Your public feud became a part of your brands. This time around, though, it was you who had the unerring knack for getting under his skin.

How the tables have turned, indeed. And Kenji looked forward to your verbal sparring matches even more so than before.

Whenever Kenji had a big game, you would inevitably tweet something snarky. And whenever you had a new movie release, he would make a point to mock you in interviews.

It was a dance you two perfected through the years; one that hid the truth neither was willing to admit. The world knows, oh they do. “The more you hate, the more you love,” as they said.

Your one-of-a-kind relationship with Kenji is all over social media, with fans and fellow celebrities alike piqued by your long-standing rivalry of sorts.

“Okay, (y/n),” your manager said. "I need to brief you on something before we get to the studio."

The two of you are headed to an interview with your one and only enemy, Kenji Sato. The limo you were on glided smoothly through the bustling streets of LA.

"What is it this time?” You asked, raising an eyebrow. “Another last-minute change?"

"Not exactly," she answered. "There's been a lot of buzz on social media about you and Kenji."

“Buzz?” your eyes widened. "What kind of buzz?”

"Well, let's just say the world is very interested in your... dynamic," she replied, smirking.

You took your phone out and started scrolling through tweets, heart racing as you read the comments from various celebrities.

You couldn't help but smile at the comments, a mix of embarrassment and amusement swirling inside you. "Wow, they really think we're... in love?"

It seems like the world ships you two. You can’t blame them. Sometimes you wonder if you’re giving too much away that they’re starting to notice.

But everyone knew already. They have done so since high school. The only ones who didn’t know, or rather, didn’t admit, were you and Kenji.

You were a study-first type of girl when you were a student. And now, you’re a career woman who loves her job. Somehow, there is currently no spot in your life for dating.

Your agency tried, they really did. They tried putting you in a love team with other actors but for every interaction with Kenji, the fans seemed to love it more.

But no matter how you deny it—to others and to yourself—there is something that you refuse to face, a repressed admiration blanketed by faux hate.

Meanwhile, in the studio, bright lights were beaming down on Kenji as he adjusted his jacket. He’s tossing a baseball form hand-to-hand as he waits for you.

In a short while, the door swung open. You walked in with the grace of a seasoned actress, smile dazzling and eyes sharp. You made your way to the stage, commanding attention.

Kenji’s smirk widened as you approached. You looked elegant and sophisticated in the chic dress that you wore. You always did. You were always so beautiful and smart, and all so dense.

“Kenji!” you said with a mock sweetness. “I didn’t know they let amateurs in the show.” You sat down on the couch next to him.

Kenji leaned back in his chair, still tossing the ball. “Well, they needed someone to balance out your overacting,” he replied.

The host, catching the vibe, jumped in with a chuckle, "Welcome, both of you. The dynamic duo, or should I say the dynamic rivals. How are you feeling today?"

Kenji shrugged, his eyes never leaving you. "Feeling great,” he answered. “Especially now that I know (y/n) here is going to try and one-up me."

You crossed your legs and leaned back, matching his intensity. "Oh, Kenji, it's not about one-upping,” you said. “It's about showing the world who truly deserves the spotlight."

The host laughed, clearly enjoying the energy between them, "Well, let's dive right into it. You two have a practically legendary history. Care to share how it all started?"

Kenji glanced at you, his expression playful. "It's simple,” he answered. “(Y/n) has always had a talent for annoying me."

You rolled her eyes, "And Kenji has always had a talent for being easily annoyed."

The host leaned forward, sensing an opportunity. "But there's got to be more to it than that,” he said. “You both always seem to have this... chemistry."

Kenji smirked, leaning closer to you, "Chemistry that explodes, you mean."

You shot back, voice dripping with sarcasm, "Yeah, the kind that blows up in your face."

The host laughed, clapping his hands together. "So, Kenji," the host said. "You’ve got a big game coming up. How do you feel about (y/n) always commenting on your games?"

Kenji chuckled, glancing at you. “Honestly?” He replied. “ I look forward to it. Keeps me on my toes."

You smiled, a genuine one this time. "And I watch every game,” you said. “Gotta make sure l have enough material to roast you."

The host raised an eyebrow, "Sounds like you two are more invested in each other than you let on."

He then turned to you. "What about you?” He asked. “How do you feel about Kenji's constant critiques of your acting?"

"I think he's secretly a fan,” you laughed. “Why else would he watch all my movies?"

Kenji leaned closer, his voice low, "Maybe I am. Or maybe I just like seeing you try so hard."

“You wish,” you met his gaze, eyes twinkling with mischief. "Please, Kenji, you couldn't handle me if you tried."

Kenji leaned ever closer, his voice dropping to a low murmur. "Is that a challenge, (l/n)?"

“Maybe it is,” you met his gaze, heart skipping a beat. "Do you think I do not know about the flowers being delivered to my set—where they come from?”

Kenji was silenced, blush creeping on his cheeks. “Like, come on, Kenji,” you continued. “Flowers, seriously? For who knows since when—just ask me out already!”

The people in the studio gasped at the revelation. Everyone else was on the edge of their seats.

You weren’t dumb to not know where those flowers came from. It started with the very first movie you filmed and it continues until now with the latest one that has just been released.

“If you knew, then why didn’t you say anyt—“ Kenji was cut off by you, “Because I was waiting for you!”

The tension in the air seemed palpable. No one said anything, no one made a move.

“You were too busy chasing a ball! And you were so happy with it, I didn’t want to interfere!” you continued.

“Yeah, well!” Kenji said, thinking of a good comeback. “You were always paired up with another man, I didn’t wanna ruin your love team!”

“Then I’m glad none of them ever worked!”

“Thank heavens! Dinner, later at 7PM, Michelin-starred restaurant, your pick!”

“Fine!”

At that moment, everyone in the room burst into squeals. The floor beneath you shook with the intensity of people jumping up and down at the same time. Even the host stood and did a victory dance in front of the camera.

It felt as if the world rejoiced in unity. This was a memorable day for all the fans that were watching live.

The celebration of each person in the room had blurred as you and Kenji stared at each other. “Took you long enough,” you said softly. Kenji chuckled, “You weren’t so dense, after all.”

Without hesitation, you leaned close and threw your arms over his shoulder, hugging him. He hugged back, tighter, for he was also waiting for this moment for what felt like an eternity.

The screaming in the background loudened at your interaction but none of you paid mind. To you, Kenji’s hug felt warm and comfy and oh-so lovely.

The years, no matter how long it has been, were all worth it for this moment. If there was anyone who knew you best, it was Kenji. The same goes for him.

Your phone, in your manager’s care, beeped with so many notifications. Checking your account on her tablet, she was greeted by over a hundred thousand tweets in just a few minutes.

That night, the two of you didn’t go out for dinner as said on TV. Instead, you treated your team to the dinner at the Michelin-starred restaurant you picked while you, with Kenji, stayed at home.

You found yourselves dancing together in the comfort of your living room. The air was filled with a soft melody, and as you swayed to the music. Kenji realized how natural it felt to have you in his arms.

"You know," he murmured, "I never imagined we'd be here." You remembered high school, the graduation ball, your first dance with each other.

“I think I’ve been in love with you for a long time,” you said, head on his chest.

“Wow you’re even dense with yourself,” he chuckled.

“Shut up,” you replied. “And you’ve always been a dork.”

Taglist is open! Comment if u wanna be tagged on future Kenji oneshots

@hismistresss @sweetangle8 @aerivina

@eternallyvenus @puppyminnnie @wattpadsuckssohard @sakura-onesan @reggies-eyeliner @buggs-1 @miffysoo @spencerrxids @stupidbutsmart @marimargirlies @mixvchelle @lannnu @lailuv21 @christiinee @abracarabbit @youngbananamilkshake @flutterfly365 @o-schist @brazilsho @arrozyfrijoles23 @finestflora @mmeerraa @mianbaobaoo @themourningfox

[charmercharm3r]

Masterlist

warnings: 9th member brain rot, kissing, body image? hardly proof read don’t come for me

prev: two, next: four

☆ﾟ

“Honestly? I hate it. I hate it a lot.”

None of your costume fittings were going well. Pants too tight, boots too big, couldn’t lift your arms or else your top would rise too high. Nothing worked. Did it at least look good? Meh.

“What’s wrong with it?” Chan asked as he stood beside you, looking at you through the practice room mirror.

“I dunno, it just… doesn’t feel right. Something…” You tried reaching around to feel the zippers and pins that held your outfit in place. Chan, ever observant, stepping to help unclip various pieces of the outfit. By the time he was done, it was a bit more revealing.

You were in the same leather pants as the rest of the group, but your top was the most modified out of everyone. A long sleeved body suite that followed the same black and white bedazzled color schemes with triangular cut outs down the shoulders and arms, rising a little too high on your hips. It was supposed to be a sexy piece, definitely not fit for a performance outfit. The stylists had it pinned to the leather pants to keep from revealing how exposing it was, saying how everything was so pretty and perfect for the concept, except this.

The pants rested a little lower on your hips, more comfortably. Chan looked at you again, “how’s that?”

You hopped and moved around, “a lot better.”

“It looks better too!” Hyunjin casually strolled into the conversation. He reached out to trace the seam that exposed your upper hips, “sexy.”

You swatted his hand away, “don’t be weird.”

“I meant it in a good way!” He threw his hands up and side stepped behind Chan and disappeared.

"If you're comfortable with it, this is much better. But it's a bit more than what you're used to showing," the older ignored Hyunjin and played with the pins in his hand.

Admiring yourself in the mirror, you realized it was a lot more than you're used to. The bodysuit was tight, which was okay because it was stretchy. But it outlined your body more than the other member's costume, therefore it stood out exponentially. "Do you think it'll be okay... y'know, in front of people?" The lowered tone of your voice, the question was shaky.

Chan paused to look at you with hints of concern, and he knew what you were talking about. He copied the hushed syntax of the conversation, "if you're worried about bad press, don't. You're part of us, like the biggest part. It's been how many years and if people can't handle that... well, that's their problem."

He lent you an encouraging smile before his attention was pulled away by a screaming Jeongin, then a thud following with Hyunjin piling on top of the younger. Chan had turned away to make sure the two were okay, and in within your lone thoughts, you figured he was right. Other people's opinions are not your problem. This was a step in the right direction.

And Chan was right, as he always is! The outfit was a smash during tour, people loved it and you felt confident. By the time the Japan tours were announced, you were ready to ask for something a bit more. Solo stages meant you were able to show more personality. You didn't have many solo projects, so it was already nerve wracking picking a song and getting help with the choreography.

The other members weren't around for your fitting with the solo stage outfit, just you and the stylist who started to enjoy your newfound excitement for experimentation. She had jumped for joy and brought out racks of different pieces, "I've waited five years for this day! It's like dress up and you're my barbie doll."

It was a large compliment coming from her, her enthusiasm made your energy spike. So you let her put you in different outfits and go over different mood boards to find what it is you wanted. The one-on-one time with her felt like turning a new leaf for your career and confidence. "I'm glad that you want to do this. I never wanted to push you to do something you're uncomfortable with, I'm so excited for you!" Aside from the usual encouragement from your members, her approval was the icing on the cake. After all, dressing people is her entire livelihood.

You hadn't given so much as a hint to the boys as to what your concept was, and it made them annoyed to no end. As they all talked about colors and themes, you kept your cards close to your chest to only let them know what you wanted them to know.

"You're being mean! Tell us! My nosy heart can't take not knowing!" Jisung pestered you the most, though you knew it came from a good place. They were all anticipating it.

When the dress rehearsal came, you put on your outfit last just so that they could all stew in their curiosity a little longer. They had all gathered on the sides of the stage to watch your run through, all of them still in their own costumes.

Your solo began with lifted from below the stage, that alone got howls from the members and also scolds from your manager to be quiet. It was hard not to glance over at them literally toppling over themselves to see your outfit up close, you laughed all throughout the run-through because of the little comments they'd make as if they were the audience.

"That's my bias!" from Jisung and a, "I'll treat you to dinner for being so cute!" from Minho.

Some other barrages of compliments later, the rehearsal intermission gave them time to rush onto the stage and tackle you to the ground. Physically dog pile on top of you so that you had no choice but to stay put. You couldn't even tell who was talking as everyone spoke at the same time. But soon enough, your manager walked over to get everyone under control once more.

Felix held out his hand for you to take and stand up. "Y/N'ie, you should've been dressing like this the entire time. You've been holding out on everyone," he teased, playing with the hem of your top.

It wasn't an outrageously different outfit to what you're used to, but also it was so brand new. An outfit made of repurposed denim in different shades, stitched together to make a halter-styled cropped top and skirt with denim arm and leg warmers to match. It was comfortable, and not to mention shorts built into the skirt.

"Just cus you said that, I'm gonna wear a track suit for the actual concert and bury this outfit in the basement," you lightly punched his arm.

"If you do, it'd be a crime against humanity. I'll have you arrested, I’ve got connections," Seungmin offhandedly mentioned. He looked indifferent, but the blush tinting his ears was a dead giveaway.

"To who? You don't talk to anyone except us," Jeongin spoke up.

"Your mom."

"Ouch," you and Felix giggle as the two youngest continued to bicker, hanging on each other's arms until it was time to finish the dress rehearsal.

Felix was always a person of comfort for you. Sort of like the baby blanket that you refused to give up because it's the one thing you know will always be there waiting for you to come home. That's not to compare him to a ratty old blanket, but more the sentiment behind it. Even after all of the praise from your members, you still found yourself looking for him to cling on to. Felix lets you, placing a hand over yours as you wrap around his arm like a vine that won't let go.

It wasn't until rehearsals were over and everyone were to change out of their outfits did you leave to let him gather his stuff. The others made jokes and poked fun, as they always did, but never Felix. Sure, he liked to tease, but even the way he did that was sweet and kind.

He could see the way you grimaced when looking at the outfit as you handed it back to the stylists for safe keeping, coming to your side unrushed as not to startle you. Wrapping an arm over your shoulder, Felix went with you to finish up small tasks before it was time to head back to the hotel.

Actually, Felix didn't leave you alone the rest of the day off, as well. He'd went with you back to your hotel room where the both of you took a short nap- you'd gone to the bathroom to find him passed out in the spare bed. Then when you woke up, it was also his idea to check out the restaurant and pool the hotel offered. You both did ask the other members if anyone wanted to join, however they were all off doing their own thing, except Hyunjin asked for you to ask him again in another hour. Something about taking a bath?

As Felix left to change into his swim suit, you silently kicked yourself for remembering to bring one in the first place. Initially, you had attempted to get out the activity by saying you didn't bring one. But then he went into your suitcase, taking everything out just to see it buried at the bottom. This was bound to happen, knowing how (affectionately) invasive all of the members are, you took caution by putting your undergarments in separate bags. Reliving the last fiasco with you in your underwear was something you avoided at all costs, now.

So now you had no choice but to go swimming, despite the sun going down and the temperature dropping.

The two of you grabbed an order of French fries and some drinks for dinner to take poolside. There was no one, thankfully. You don't think you'd be able to take your top off if there was even one other person there to see. Felix acted like this was normal. Because it should be. He's one of your best friends and has nothing but love for you, so why is this so difficult?

You've come to terms with your body and living in your skin. At least, you thought you did.

"One step at a time," the deep bass of a voice said softly over your shoulder. Felix had opened the to-go box of food and was taking a seat at one of the outdoor tables. "Let's just eat, for now."

Hesitant, you sat beside him, picking at the fries while staring at the reflective lights within the hotel. Comfortable silence besides the occasional water splashing against the concrete. "We don't have to go in," Felix offered with a sympathetic smile. "I'm just glad I got you out of your room."

"What do you mean, I always hang out with you guys when we're traveling."

"Yeah, in the hotel!" The crinkles at the corners of his eyes when he smiled was cute. Felix is cute. "I mean going to dinner, sight seeing, doing fun things."

"I have fun! Like," you blanked for a second, grabbing a fry and shoving it in your mouth to buy some time. "Scrolling through the foreign tv channels and trying to figure out what's happening."

"You can't be serious." You shrugged and he rolled his eyes. "Well now we have to go in the pool. There is no way we are leaving when all you've done is try to find the Japanese discovery channel."

Felix stood and immediately stripped off his shirt, tossing it at your face cockily. Spitting the fabric out of your mouth, you were tempted to gag yourself with it again when you saw him shirtless. It's not like you'd never seen any of them without a top before, it's just that you always had to hide it. Felix wiggled his eyebrows at you, "how much do you love me?"

Flustered. You were flustered. "...A lot, I guess? What does that have to do w-"

"I jump, you jump kind of love?"

"What are you talking ab-"

He took off in a sprint towards the pool, quickly spinning to yell back, "You love me, so jump!" And he cannonballed into the deep end. The impact made the water splash over the edge and wet your feet. You stood to peer into the water where you could see his blonde hair bobbing before breaking the surface again for air. His skin glistened and glowed from the warm pool lights, ethereal. "If you don't come in, I'm gonna hold a grudge against you for the rest of our lives."

"Is that a threat?"

Felix nodded, "a very serious one that I'll make the rest of the guys get in on and annoy you for all of eternity."

They already annoy you, but like Felix said, I jump, you jump applies to all of you.

You looked around the area, not another soul in sight. Felix flicked some water at you, taunting. The smug look on his face, you wanted to slap it off of him, or kiss. Probably both.

Either way, you raised an eyebrow in challenge and slid off your shorts and shirt at record speed, barreling towards the pool to follow him with a leap. The water was cold, but refreshing. It wasn't hard to open your eyes beneath it to see Felix also dipping his head below, smiling widely at you. His hands reached out to guide you both back to the surface, inhaling deeply while he laughed gleefully.

Suddenly, you were being lifted in a warm pair of arms and smothered into his body. The two of you were in fits of giggles at both of your lacks in impulse control. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders while he held you closer.

The laughter slowly died down, but Felix didn't let you go. Though, his hands did slide a little lower. Barely grazing down your back, over your bathing suit bottoms and hooking beneath your thighs to urge you to wrap them around him. His plush lips were the pinkest you'd ever seen them, matching prettily with the blush on his cheeks.

You were almost weightless in the water, taking away the small fear factor that you'd be too heavy for him to carry like this, although it didn't go away entirely. You couldn't resist looking down at yourself, specifically in the stupidly small bikini that was the only one you brought. It was like your entire thought process was being narrated to him, Felix let go of one leg to tip your chin up to face him again. You met his eyes with a hint of embarrassment, but mostly bemused by the way he was looking at you.

There was lingering moment where you caught him staring at your lips, as well. The same hand beneath your chin trailed to cup your cheek, thumb brushing over the corner of your mouth.

"I thought we were supposed to be swimming," you whispered out of nervousness.

“Were we?” He didn’t give you time to respond, leaning in to brush his lips against yours. There was a small moment before they fully connected where you could’ve backed out, you could’ve pulled away and acted like nothing happened.

Instead, you pushed into him to fully melt against his lips. Felix tangled his hand in your hair to make sure there was less than oxygen between your bodies, water sloshing around as he reciprocated the heat behind the kiss. He molded against you like a perfect puzzle piece, following your lead in tracing his lower lip with your tongue. Hands grabbed at your thigh, your ass, the one in your hair trailing behind to wrap around your shoulder. His eagerness made you just as needy, just as desperate that you followed in threading your fingers through his blonde locks and raking your nails from there, down his neck and back. Felix’s body shivered at the feeling.

You could tell he was holding back when he groaned softly against you and his hold on your lower half tightened enough that you should be concerned there’d be bruises.

The other thing you should be concerned about was the water beginning to rise. Or, you were sinking? He still kept a firm grasp on you, and the water beginning to creep up your back didn’t seem to concern him, nor when it finally reached your neck and suddenly you were holding your breath and submerged all over again.

Only when the both of you were beneath the surface did he pull away to look at you. Felix smiled, cheeky and warm, he kissed you again, slower this time. A little more passionate and past the initial frenzy.

But air was an unfortunate necessity, and he lifted the both of you up again. His lips moved to the side of your cheek, placing supple pecks as you regained your breaths. You couldn’t suppress the small bits of laughter as your body relaxed and mind catches up with what had just happened.

Reluctant, Felix pulled away to brush the hair from your forehead. “Were we supposed to be swimming or something?”

“You were supposed to call me in a hour!”

The third voice broke your small bubble of bliss to see Hyunjin standing at the edge of the pool. He was only in a bathrobe and slippers, pajama pants peaking out from underneath while his hair fell into his face out of the ponytail.

You couldn’t even be bothered to let go of Felix, who in result of his shock actually held you closer.

“And why did he get to kiss you first?! That’s not fair.” Hyunjin started to untie his bathrobe, tossing it onto the table where the rest of your stuff was.

“What is happening right now?” You softly mutter as the only dry person present also pulled off his pajama pants to leave him in just his boxers. Entirely stunned and far too flustered to understand why he was stripping, you reached out to stop him, “Hyun, you just took a bath.”

“If getting in the pool is what I have to do, I’ll take a million showers. After I kiss you,” as he broke into a run towards the edge of the pool.

☆ﾟ

tags: @babebatter @changbinluvr @epiphanynaffit @fawnpeaks @linovely @dumplinbokkieracha @finnydraws @naturules @djeniryuu @skzhomiehopper @yesv01 @hyunjinsamdl @dazzlingligth @alexis-reads-fics @0002linoskitten @chillichillicrabcrab23 @zerefdragn33l @straycrescent @binnies-donuts @soldierstangirl-blog @bakedlilgoonie @levanterlily @shelbyyy44 @yeetmehome @in2heartz @astroodledream @the-sweetest-rose @lilbugs-things @viviennenstan @staurdvst @alex--awesome--22 @imzenning @jeyelleohe @iadorethemskz @skyvastbunny @mamabymychem @katsukis1wife @woozarts @noellllslut @straykids5star @like-a-diamondinthesky

[seonghwaddict]

★ NEVER SAY NEVER. [ 009 ] flowers on vines.

synopsis. something about the eight most well-known boys of your campus just didn't sit right with you, so you never gave any effort to interact with them. but after a series of… interesting incidents, they can't seem to leave you alone. pairing. college students! vampires! ot8! ateez x fem! reader. genre. fluff, angst, eventual smut, college au, vampire au. chapter warnings. mildly suggestive content, implication of size kink. word count. 3k

　　　　　　　　chapter viii // chapter ix // chapter x

With a week left for the project, thirteen out of the fourteen had come and gone with the snap of a finger. You were aware time seemed to go so fast because of the person you were partnered with. Wooyoung had a way of getting the most stubborn of people to have the most fun. Meeting with him—and his friends, or, you supposed, your friends—nearly every day a week for months, it wasn’t a surprise that it went by so quickly.

You worked very well together, a shock to you initially but after getting so close to him it made sense. Not to mention how close you’ve gotten to his friends, who you now also considered some of your own best friends and loved. Not that you loved them, but you thought they were cool and fun and nice and unbelievably handsome and-

Your thoughts were quickly cut off by a knock on your studio door that cut through the music playing from your bluetooth speaker. Well, “studio” was a bit of an exaggeration.

When you and Sangmi first moved into this apartment, it became apparent to the two of you that there was an extra room. Of course, knowing that she was a dance student and probably practised for the majority of the day, you let her have the extra room but she quickly shot you down and told you to use it for your art instead. It wasn’t spacious enough to be a dance studio, anyway.

There was space for your assortment of shelves and easels, a long table stretched the length of the wall under the single window in the room, paint tubes, brushes and palette knives scattered all over the surface and various filled sketchbooks, new and scrapped canvases crammed just below the table on the equally long shelf.

You set a small couch next to the door, the wall behind it decorated with several of your paintings you favoured over the others. Sometimes, while you were working, you let Sangmi sit on the couch and relax, either watching you or doing something of her own as you enjoyed each other’s presence.

You set your paintbrush down next to your palette on the table and wiped your paint stained hands on a cloth before opening the door.

“Hey, I’m gonna go to the dance studio for a few hours.” Sangmi told you as you stepped aside to let her in. She looked at the painting of Wooyoung you were working on, the reference picture a screenshot of the dance video he filmed, taped to the top part of the easel. “Oh, it’s coming along so well!”

Over the past weeks she’s been checking on you and your progress, reminding you to eat whenever you get too carried away with painting. She’s seen all the stages and all the discarded versions of the painting, as well as all your frustration when you couldn’t get things to look quite right.

The canvas was fairly large, a magnificent oil painting of Wooyoung finally living up to your visions on the fabric—so you figured there wouldn’t be a need for smaller paintings as well. The dance was a contemporary one, choreographed to a song that made use of traditional instruments and performed on the stage of the university’s auditorium. The part you chose to paint was an almost breathtaking point of the choreography where he switched from sharp movements to an almost trance-like slowness, looking up with one hand elegantly reaching upwards. There was no denying his talent. 

The lighting from the stage’s spotlight was already dramatic, but you tweaked it on your canvas, adding more contrast and a soft glow to his illuminated features to create a more jarring effect. He looked ethereal with the way you painted him.

A couple minutes later, Sangmi left and you could continue painting in peace. Well, until the doorbell rang, at least. With a groan, you set your paintbrush down and walked into the hall to see who you needed to buzz in. As soon as you saw who was waiting outside the building, your eyes lit up and you wasted no time in hitting the button to unlock the door.

You practically ran to the bathroom to wash the paint off your fingers. By the time he arrived at your door, you already cleaned yourself up a bit and made a bit of an effort to sort out your messy hair. With a deep breath, you opened the door and practically threw yourself on him.

“Gosh, I thought I’d never see you again!” You pretended to cry into his chest as your embraced him tightly.

But Yunho only chuckled, ruffling your hair. “Oh, don’t be dramatic.”

You were only half joking. With you focused on your painting and him having to attend shootings and rehearsals for the end of year movie of the acting students, you hadn’t seen each other in a while. Each of the artistic majors had some kind of collaborative showcase near the end of the year; this year art majors and dancers worked together, the film majors worked with the actors, and the music majors worked with the theatre students. For that reason, you couldn’t find a lot of time to see half of the boys in general. 

“That’s an ironic thing to say for an actor.” You stepped away from him with a giddy laugh, noticing the bags in his hand and pointing at them. “What’s that?”

“I’m glad you asked,” Yunho smiled and walked past you to set the bags on the small breakfast table between the kitchen and living area. “I brought food. I didn’t know what you wanted,” he began taking different containers out of the bags, “so I got a variety—some soups, tteokbokki, fried chicken, japchae, gimbap and, of course, rice.”

“Thank you so much, but really didn’t have to get all this-“

He cut you off with a wave of his hand. “Don’t worry about it, I want to treat you to some delicious food.”

After a moment of you biting your lips with uncertainty, you nodded gratefully and moved to the kitchen to grab utensils and bowls. 

The two of you conversed comfortably as you stuffed yourselves full with the food he brought. You asked about the movie but he’d only give you answers so vague he may not have said anything at all; “What is it about?” “Well, you know, characters and stuff.” “Yunho, please!” “Ok, ok, fine… it’s a romance and involves characters.”

Though you didn’t really notice it, he paid a lot of attention to you. Whether you were talking or just eating, he was constantly taking notes in his mind. When you briefly mentioned a movie you liked, he later reminded himself to watch it when he had the time. Or when your eyes gave a slightly different reaction to a particular dish that showed you enjoyed it, he later reminded himself to make sure to order that dish next time he brings you food. Even when he was the one talking, he was so focused on the warmth in your face as you listened to him that he nearly lost his train of thought several times.

You told him about the progress of your painting, but adamantly refused to show it to him even when he begged so prettily. However, he quickly quelled his curiosity as you said something about wanting to surprise him and the rest of the guys. Something unfamiliar in his chest clenched when you giggled at his pout, reaching your hand over to pat his forearm.

“But I want to see your paintings!” He huffed jokingly, making you laugh again.

“I can just paint something for you out here.”

He seemed to be considering the offer for a while and then his pout disappeared, his eyes lighting up even though there was a darker glint in his eyes you couldn’t quite decipher. A smirk spread across his face.

“What if… you paint me?”

“Yeah, sure, I’ve thought about using you as a reference so-”

“No, no, you misunderstood me,” he let out a mischievous little chuckle that twisted your stomach, “I mean, what if you paint on me?”

“O-oh…” Mildly surprised by the request, you blinked. “Are you, um… are you sure you’d want that?”

His eyes crinkled as he smiled at you. “Of course I do! But if you don’t feel comfortable doing it, you don’t have to.”

With a newfound determination to make him happy, you nodded and got up, telling him to stay where he was seated while you went to grab some paint. Deciding oil paints weren’t the best idea, you settled on gouache, something between watercolour and acrylic that would wash off easily. You grabbed a few clean brushes and walked out with everything in your hands.

The sight that waited for you in the living room had your breath caught in your throat. Yunho was still there, as you had asked, but he had gone to the bathroom and grabbed a towel to lay on the floor.

He was on top of the towel.

Laying face down.

Shirtless.

You were glad he wasn’t facing you, otherwise he would’ve seen the way you had to turn around to pull yourself together. There was no denying how well-built Yunho’s body was—or any of their bodies, in fact—but seeing it so bare, despite only seeing his back, did things to you. For the sake of the friendship, you swallowed down the nervousness bubbling inside you and turned back around, grabbing a cup of water and a small towel from the kitchen before walking to where he laid himself down and kneeling next to his body.

You set your supplies next to you and took a breath. He sensed you next to him and turned his head to look at you sideways.

“Something wrong, tiny?”

The nickname only added into that static feeling of nervousness but you still shook your head, beginning to dip one of the brushes in water. “Everything’s fine, just relax, please.”

Yunho nodded and sighed softly, turning his head to the other side and closing his eyes. As you inspected your colour palette, you took a moment to think of what to paint on him. What would he like?

Finally, you decided to just let your hands take over instead of thinking about it too carefully. Knowing him, he’d be happy no matter what you decided to draw. Holding your breath, you let the brush lathered with paint touch his skin. There was no mistaking the way the hair at the nape of his neck stood up with goosebumps as he shivered ever so slightly. You briefly apologised about the paint being cold, but he didn’t mind at all. 

You drew a wavy, thin, sage green line from his left shoulder diagonally down to the left side of his waist, watching as the damp bristles glided over his muscles. They weren’t as defined as an athlete’s, but they were there, soft indications of his fitness.

As you let your mind and paintbrush wander, you found yourself turning that line into a vine of flowers and leaves. The style was almost impressionistic, barely abstract and precise smudges of colours that resembled plants you didn’t know the names of. With each stroke of the brush and twitch of his muscles, your shoulder relaxed and you let yourself bask in the moment just as he was.

Soon enough, you were happy with your creation and sat back to inspect it. Feeling the absence of your brushstrokes, Yunho turned his head to look at you again.

“Done?”

You tilted your head one way and then the other, looking at it from different angles before nodding with satisfaction. He gave you a toothy smile.

“Do you wanna do the front too, tiny?”

“Sure- wait, what?” Your eyes snapped to his, his question making your face feel warm. Painting on his naked front torso seemed considerably more… intimate than painting on the plane of his back.

“Yeah, like, paint on the front? Maybe you can connect the designs.”

And so you found yourself painting a similar vine on his chest after he laid himself on his back—of course, he had waited until you told him the paint was dry in fear of ruining your hard work. This vine started from his waist where the vine on his back ended and creeped up to his neck, disappearing behind his ear.

Throughout the process, you had to keep reminding yourself not to let your hands indulge in a few caresses of his porcelain skin, gaslighting yourself into believing he was just a canvas. But the way he was looking at you didn’t help much.

His eyes almost looked glossy as the reflection of the ceiling lamp’s light danced in them, looking at you with something you could only compare to adoration. You didn’t hate it at all, but you weren’t sure how to feel about it.

You also weren’t sure how you ended up in this position. At some point you must’ve been so focused, you didn’t notice him move you to sit on his upper thighs. Straddling him. But you didn’t want to make things awkward and move off him (not to mention that you greatly liked this position), so you stayed and continued your work from on top of him. You desperately tried to ignore the size difference that seemed so much more obvious when you were on him like this while he, on the contrary, revelled in it.

And at first you could feel your heart pounding in your chest, threatening to break through your rib cage. But the erratic beating soothed itself; it calmed down quickly when it came to terms with the fact that you were safe in his vicinity. He was safe.

Painting his front was similar to his back, his muscles twitching every time you brushed over them with paint. Now that you were seeing him like this, you nearly asked him never to put on a shirt again. 

You found yourself adding details that were ultimately meaningless and would most definitely go unnoticed, but you weren’t quite ready to move away from him. Not when he was looking at you with such round, tender eyes.

“Can I take a picture of this?”

His voice seemed slightly deeper than usual, perhaps because he hadn’t used it in a while. His question briefly caught you off guard, but you realised that it was kind of cute, really. So you nodded without lifting your eyes from the area you were painting just next to his abs.

Yunho’s hand reached over to the coffee table and he slid his phone off the surface. First he took a picture from his own point of view, looking down his chest to see one of your hands painting gorgeous flowers while your other one rested on his free hand’s forearm, the way you straddled him so perfectly just further down the shot.

The next picture he took was a landscape oriented photo, his hand outstretched to the side. This shot depicted the scene from the side, both of your smiling faces in the picture, as well as the bend of your arm as you painted near his neck and the soft arch of your back as you leaned over him ever so slightly. The way his free hand’s fingers rubbed and tapped their way up your thighs until they reached your waist went unnoticed by the camera.

While you were very focused on painting, you did eventually relax enough to let your own free hand explore his torso. With one hand focused on refining the flowers, the other glided over wherever the paint wasn’t touching, following the dips and rises of his body. It wasn’t until you accidentally passed your thumb over one of his nipples that he made an effort to stop you.

When it happened, he let out a shaky breath that seemed somewhat like a silent whimper, he raised a hand to close around your wrist and lifted it away from his chest. After he muttered a “tiny, please” you nodded and relaxed your hand in his grip, face flushing out of embarrassment.

Instead of dropping your hand, he repositioned his hold on it to cradle it gently, pulling it to his face and consequently pulling you further up his lap. You gaped at him as he pressed an electric kiss to your knuckles. But he didn’t stop there; he flexed your wrist to present your palm to him, his eyes never breaking contact with yours until his kisses trailed to your wrist. His lips lingered over your pulse point and you watched as his eyes fluttered shut.

It was impossible to deny the dark tint appearing on your cheeks, but you were glad to see he looked just as affected. Pink blush adorned his soft cheeks, his eyes seeming slightly dazed when he finally dropped your hand and looked up to you.

It wasn’t long after that that the paint fully dried and he had to leave, voice hoarse as he explained that he had an early shooting the next day and should probably go rest. After helping you clean up, Yunho pressed a quick kiss to your cheek, barely missing the corner of your lips, and took off into the night.

If you collapsed onto the couch and squealed into a pillow as soon as he was gone, that was nobody’s business but yours.

And if as soon as he got home, he practically ripped off his shirt and gushed to his brothers about how small and pretty you looked when you were on top of him—foregoing showing the pictures because those were for him and only him—that was also nobody's business but his either.

　　[ lilo's notes ... ] thank you all for waiting so patiently for this chapter <33. as you can see, you and yunho are quite… close 🤭 i honestly had so much fun writing this, possibly too much- but anyways, i hope you enjoyed it!! also, don’t worry, i did not forget about that little yeosang moment from the previous chapter, it will most definitely be brought up~~

　　ଘ(੭˃ᴗ˂)੭ network ... @cromernet @blankjournal

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[owmyeyeballs]

Batstarion Fic

I had to. Batstarion is too adorable for words. He's still a spawn in this fic, because I say so. Tav is Silence, my tiefling monk, and she's so done with her adorable weird vampire

It’s probably nothing. Of course it’s nothing. He’ll show up any minute. He’s fine, everything will be fine… Silence had been pacing so long, she wondered she hadn’t worn out the Elfsong’s shiny floorboards. Astarion was missing. Astarion had been missing for hours. Usually at this time of day he would be lounging at her side, reading a book and cradling a glass of wine. Ordinarily Silence wouldn’t have worried quite so much, but since the death of Cazador, Astarion had been a mess. Joyous one minute, on the verge of weeping the next, and through it all, extremely reluctant to leave Silence’s side.

He probably just needed some space. He’s probably just gone to track down some prey. He’s probably totally fine, and hasn’t fallen victim to a vengeful spawn, or a Bhaal-crazed murderer, or…

The door opened, and Silence turned in worried expectation, only to find Wyll regarding her sympathetically.

“Still no sign of our favourite bloodsucker, I take it?”

“Nothing. I should be out looking for him.”

Wyll came to stand by her, and rested a hand on her shoulder.

“You should be with the rest of us at the bar, relaxing. Astarion’s a grown man. There’s no sense worrying until we know for sure we have cause.”

“He’s barely been out of my sight since Cazador, and this city is dangerous, and…”

“And Astarion has two hundred years of experience navigating those dangers. I tell you what, if he’s still gone in another hour, I’ll join you, and we’ll go looking for him together. But until then, try to relax. I know Astarion’s been a little out of sorts since taking down Cazador. But so have you.”

Silence opened her mouth to argue, then closed it again. In truth, Wyll was right. After coming so very close to losing her lover, she had barely relaxed once.

“… You may have a point.”

Wyll smiled warmly, and gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

“Try to relax. If you won’t join us downstairs, at least sit down for a while up here. Even with your light feet, we can hear you pacing your way through the floorboards!”

As he left her to rejoin the others, Silence took his advice, collapsing on her bed. The absence of Astarion laying beside her, holding her close, did little to ease her worries. Without the vampire to hug, she clutched a pillow to her chest instead.

“Where are you, Stars…”

Her eyes drifting aimlessly across the elegantly furnished room, until they came to rest on her alchemy bag. A thought darted across her mind, and she leapt to her feet once more, taking the bag and rifling through the contents, until at last her hand closed on the bottle she wanted.

“I mightn’t be able to sniff you out, but I know who can!”

Scratch had settled quite happily into the Elfsong, and had already become a familiar presence at the bar, delighting in being petted and fed treats by patrons in various stages of inebriation. Seeing Silence, his tail began to wag, and he loped across the room to meet her. The taste of the animal speaking potion still lingering on her tongue, Silence knelt to scratch behind his ears.

“Hope you’re keeping well, Mistress! You haven’t joined us tonight! You’re missing out! There’s been singing!”

“I’m well enough, but worried,” Silence replied. “And I think you might be able to help me. Do you think you can track someone for me?”

Scratch tilted his head, the wagging of his tail slowing a little.

“I think so… But is it Astarion you want me to track? That… Might be a problem.”

Silence felt her heart begin to race in fear.

“Why? What’s happened? Do you know something?”

“He’s alright, Mistress. Well, I think he’ll be alright. But he made me promise not to tell!”

Silence frowned.

“Not to tell me what? Please, Scratch. I’ve been worried sick!”

Scratch let out a low whine, and tilted his head again.

“I don’t know… He said he’d bite me if I told! But… He likes you so much. I don’t think he’d like you to be worried… That makes telling you alright, doesn’t it?”

“I think so! And don’t worry, I won’t let him bite!”

Scratch let out a sigh, his tail wagging once more.

“If you go back to your room, Mistress, I’ll bring him to you there.”

Giving Scratch one last pat, Silence rose to her feet, halfway between relieved and worried.

What in nine Hells have you gotten up to, Stars?

Silence didn’t have long to wait before finding out.  She had barely settled back onto her bed when she heard Scratch’s claws clicking merrily on the floorboards, and her lover’s voice raised in indignation.

“If you don’t drop me at once, you filthy hound, I’ll visit you tonight and drain every last drop of blood from you! Do you hear me? You miserable fleabag, I mean it!”

Scratch came bounding into the room, something white in his mouth. Something winged and flapping angrily, and yelling in Astarion’s voice as it was dropped at Silence’s feet. A bat. A white, fluffy, red-eyed bat.

“At last! Ugh, I’m covered in your slobber, you beast! I ought to…”

Red eyes looked up at Silence, and blinked.

“Ah. Darling. I… Suppose I ought to explain.”

Silence knelt, and scooped the bat – Astarion? – up off the floor. He flapped his wings clumsily, trying to get his balance, and clawed feet gripped at her hands. Torn between laughing and shouting in disbelief, she stroked her thumb over soft, fluffy white fur.

“You’re a bat.”

Astarion heaved a sigh, and shot a glare at Scratch.

“I’ll deal with you later, mongrel. Now, shoo!”

“Ignore him, Scratch. But you can go back and have fun with the others.”

Tail wagging and tongue lolling out happily, Scratch left. Astarion gave an annoyed huff and folded his wings. Or, attempted to. His control over them seemed to be somewhat lacking.

“Well. I suppose an explanation is in order. I found a book, you see. When we were looting Cazador’s palace. A book on vampires, and vampire spawn. Turns out the bastard was keeping even more from us than I realised!”

He waved a wing angrily, nearly falling from Silence’s hands. She quickly sat down on the bed, and set Astarion down on a cushion.

“Turns out I’m capable of more than I realised. All of us spawn are. Apparently Cazador didn’t want us to get any ideas… According to what I’ve read, I ought to be able to turn to mist, to walk upside down on ceilings, to… Well, to turn into a bat. It took some experimenting, but I figured it out! Only…”

Silence bit her lip to keep a laugh from bursting out.

“Only you can’t work out how to turn back?”

Astarion groaned, burying his head in his wing in embarrassment.

“More than that, I can’t even figure out how to make this useless form fly! I’m stuck as a winged rat, scrabbling around on the ground… Do you have any idea how many times I’ve nearly been stepped on? And the kitchen cats tried to make a meal of me! I had to beg that damned mutt for protection! And… Are you laughing? Is this funny to you?”

Unable to hold in in any longer, Silence let out a snort of laughter, and only laughed harder as the little white bat gave her what he clearly imagined to be a ferocious glare.

“I’ve been worried about you, you precious bastard! And all the time you were a cute little bat!”

She scooped him up again and pressed a kiss to his furry head, holding him up and taking in the long, twitching ears, the leaf-like nose, the sharp little teeth he revealed as he shouted.

“Will you take this seriously? Imagine what the others are going to say! The sheer indignity will kill me!”

“That’s what you get for skulking around and playing with powers you don’t know how to use! Now, where’s this book? We’ll see if we can’t find a way to change you back.”

“Outside, on one of the tables out the back. Assuming no one’s stolen it, that is. Wait, you’re not leaving me here? What if the cats come back?”

Silence, paused, halfway through placing Astarion down on the bed again. He flapped his wings in indignation, and she sighed and placed him on her shoulder instead.

“There. Stop getting yourself in a flap – literally. Those wing claws are sharp!”

At last, with Astarion settled on her shoulder, Silence made her way downstairs, where the tavern rang with cheerful singing. Astarion let out a slight groan.

“Let’s get out of here, quickly. This form has sensitive ears, and that drunken caterwauling is making my head throb!”

Silence tried her best to avoid the rest of the party as she made her way to the door, but with no luck. Spotting her, Gale cried out.

“Ah, there you are! Joining us at last? Come on, pull up a chair, pour a glass! Hello… What have you got there?”

“Oh gods...” Astarion groaned, as Gale approached, looking curiously. “He’ll be insufferable…”

“Well, aren’t you a chatty little fellow?” Gale asked, reaching out to stroke the bat’s head. Astarion snapped at him. “And bitey! Reminds me of Astarion. Any luck tracking him down?”

“Don’t you dare tell him!” Astarion hissed. “I’ll die of embarrassment!”

Gale couldn’t understand, Silence realised. Not without the animal-speaking potion. Although… Her eyes darted to the bar, where Halsin stood close by. Sure enough, the druid was smiling, having clearly understood.

“It seems our pale friend is in something of a predicament! How have you managed that, Astarion?”

“Astarion?” Gale frowned, and looked around the bar. At long last, his eyes returned to the bat currently fuming on Silence’s shoulder. “He isn’t… Is he?”

Well, there was no avoiding it now. One by one, the others turned their attention to Astarion, who hid his face in his wings.

“That’s Astarion?” Karlach cried, leaping from her seat and coming to pet his fur. “He’s so cute! And soft! Aren’t you just precious?”

“Certainly an interesting development,” Wyll remarked. “Could be useful for scouting ahead, or getting to places we can’t…”

“Have you figured out your wings yet?” Halsin asked. “Many druids struggle with flight when they first take a winged form. I can offer some advice, should you need it?”

Astarion flapped his wings angrily, brushing away Karlach’s hands and nearly falling from Silence’s shoulder in the process.

“Unhand me! Gods above, get me out of here!”

“Aww, listen to the cute little squeaks!” Karlach exclaimed. “Is he having a little tantrum?”

“He’s… a little overwhelmed. We’re going to go back upstairs and try to figure things out. See you all later!”

The book, thankfully, was where Astarion had said it would be. An ancient volume, full of loose and torn pages, which Silence briefly flicked through curiously. Arcane diagrams, bizarre illustrations, archaic text…

“You can browse it upstairs! Hurry, I can hear the cats coming back!”

“Alright, calm down. Relax, I’m not going to let you be a cat’s dinner.”

Making a brief detour past the bar for a bottle of wine, Silence hurried back upstairs, and settled onto her bed, the book in front of her, Astarion settling himself onto her lap. Pouring herself a glass of wine, she tried not to laugh as he clumsily attempted to open the cover with his wings, and failed, a giggle bursting out.

“Will you stop laughing? Do you have any idea how hard these wretched things are to control? They feel as if they ought to work like hands, but they don’t! I can’t pick anything up, I can’t turn pages… I can’t even scratch my nose!”

“You’ll figure it out in time, I’m sure. In the meantime…”

Silence gently scratched at the delicate, leaflike nose with one fingertip. Then, unable to resist the soft fur, turned her attention to the fur around his ears. Astarion closed his eyes, letting out a little sigh.

“Well… that I could get used to…”

With one hand now dedicated to bat-scratching, Silence opened the book with the other.

“Right, where were you up to?”

“There’s a page marked with a ribbon. Turn to that one.”

Silence obliged, turning to a page covered with illustrations of bats. Cruel-looking things, not at all like the fluffy white creature in her lap. Seemingly content in his lover’s lap, satisfied that his problem could soon be solved, and rather enjoying having his ears scratched, Astarion yawned, showing off those sharp little fangs again.

“Now, then. If you’d be so good as to turn the pages when I tell you…”

Peace settled over the room. Silence could make little sense of the archaic style of writing, but Astarion seemed to be puzzling it out. She sipped her wine, humming idly, the bat’s fur so very soft under her fingers…

“I wonder… Would you mind?”

Astarion flapped a wing clumsily at the glass in her hand.

“Seriously?”

“What? Perhaps things taste different in this form! It has to come with some perks!”

Silence gave a snort of laughter, but lowered the glass to Astarion’s level all the same, watching him lean over the rim.

“You’re unbelievable.”

“Ugh! Gods, if anything, it tastes worse!”

The white fur around his mouth was now stained red, and he clumsily tried to wipe it with his wings. Silence rolled her eyes, and drained the glass herself.

“Now, if you’re done experimenting, ready for me to turn the page?”

How much time passed, Silence couldn’t say. After a while, it occurred to her that she was no longer being asked to turn pages, and the tiny body in her lap was making a rather curious sound.

“Stars? Are you… purring?”

“Hm?” Astarion twitched an ear in her direction, his eyes closed. “I… I suppose I am.”

He yawned again, and the purring resumed. Marking the page, Silence closed the book and set it aside. Gently picking Astarion up, she lay down and settled him on her chest, high enough that he could nuzzle into her neck.

“You seem comfortable, and I’m tired. We can read more in the morning.”

When Silence woke, it was to a familiar figure in bed beside her, arms wrapped around her waist, nose nuzzled into her neck. Letting out a sigh of relief, she stroked a hand through Astarion’s white curls, and scratched lightly at a pointed ear. Not as twitchy and delicate as his bat ears, but still adorable. He gave a sleepy hum of pleasure, and held her tighter.

“Well, last night was interesting. You figured out how to turn back.”

“Not consciously, but it seems the form wears off when I sleep. I think I’ll do some further reading before trying that again.”

“That sounds wise,” Silence agreed, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “Though, for what it’s worth, you do make an adorable bat.”

[disasterbuck]

Eddie, you have food on your face

710 words inspired by this instagram video: https://www.instagram.com/reel/C72LNWTNb82/

read Buck's version here

Sinking down onto the couch beside Eddie, Buck reached for a plate and began piling food onto it. They were at Maddie and Chimney's place, joining in on Buff Friday while Hen and Karen looked after all the kids – they'd said something about missing having heaps of foster's to look after the other day, and Chim and Eddie had immediately jumped on the opportunity for some free babysitting.

"Are you even gonna be able to eat all that?" Eddie asked teasingly as Buck stacked some hot chips on top of his already full plate of fried rice, two slices of pizza, and a hot dog.

"Shut up," Buck said fondly around a mouthful.

Eddie rolled his eyes and turned back to his own plate, which despite his teasing was also stacked high.

Maddie and Chimney had settled on the couch opposite them and for a few minutes they were all quiet as they focused on eating. Once they were about halfway through, conversation slowly picked up and they began discussing various different topics.

Using the last bit of a pizza slice to scoop up the remaining food bits on his plate, Buck then stuffed it all into his mouth and set his empty plate down on the coffee table. He glanced over at Eddie, who was nodding at something Chimney was saying, and noticed he had ketchup on his cheek.

Nudging Eddie's knee to get his attention, Buck pointed at his face and then tapped the same spot on his own cheek to give a clear indication of where the ketchup was.

Then, to Buck's utter surprise, Eddie leaned over and pressed a kiss to where his finger had just been.

Buck stared at him. Eddie smiled back.

Slowly, Eddie's eyes widened and he suddenly slapped a hand to his face, feeling the ketchup there and turning away to get a napkin and wipe it off. He hunched forward as he did so, hiding his face from the three pairs of eyes that were staring at him.

Buck managed to swallow the last of his food without choking, but it was a near thing. He reached a hand towards Eddie, but just as he did so Eddie shot up from the couch, muttered something about needing some air, and sped down the hall to the bathroom.

Buck now found himself being stared at.

"Evan!" Maddie hissed, eyes popping. "Go after him!"

"Go… Maddie, he's in the bathroom!" Buck hissed back.

"He just kissed you!" Maddie replied. "He's hiding! Go talk to him!"

"He kissed my cheek!" Buck retorted, feeling his face flush with embarrassment and – not that he would admit this – pleasure. "It didn't mean anything!"

Maddie's face went through the five stages of grief and then she turned to Chimney, throwing her hands up helplessly.

"If it didn't mean anything," Chimney whispered. "Why did he run away?"

Oh.

In a flash, Buck was on his feet and heading down the hall. He banged on the bathroom door loudly, then rocked back on his heels and wondered if he should've gone for a softer approach.

"I'll be out in a minute," Eddie called, his voice sounding weird.

"No," Buck said firmly.

"'No'?" Eddie repeated, sounding flabbergasted.

"That's what I said." Buck jiggled the door handle uselessly. "Let me in."

There was silence for a moment, and then Buck heard the lock click. He immediately turned the handle again, opening the door and letting himself into the bathroom.

Eddie was looking at him hesitantly, shoulders hunched and arms crossed protectively.

"Why did you run away?" Buck asked softly.

Eddie swallowed and said nothing.

"Cause it meant something, right?" Buck continued. "You thought I was asking you to kiss my cheek, and you just did it. Cause that's who we are. We're the kind of people who kiss each other's cheeks."

Looking slightly pained, Eddie shook his head. "That's not it, Buck."

"Then what is?"

With a sigh and a glance to the heavens like he was saying a silent prayer, Eddie murmured:

"I'm in love with you."

Buck crossed the short distance between them in one step and brought his hands up to cup Eddie's face.

"I'm in love with you too, idiot," he said.

And kissed him on the mouth.

-

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Let me know if you'd like to be added or removed 💕

[lyricalt]

[tf2 minific] late stage fashionalism

fem!(Sniper/Spy) - rated T - [ao3]

I love the trope of putting Sniper in a fancy suit for a gala mission glow-up so fem!Sniper getting dolled up to be an absolute smokeshow isn’t that far of a stretch, lol. (and fem!spy makes the awooga sfx, naturally.)

I looked at some dresses from the 1960s and THIS is sort of what I had in mind for Sniper, though I did want to put her in a cute 70s mod dress as well (with hat)! Oh well. Next time.

[Part 1] | [Part 2] | [Part 3]

+++

The clickety-clack of heels alerts Spy to someone’s presence at the door to her quarters. She doesn’t bother to turn around from her vanity, too focused on setting up the table; make up brushes, various powders, pencils, and sponges all in a neat little row. Tools of her trade, as good as any weapon. For tonight’s gala mission, she’ll need all the help she can get, if not a full on miracle.

“It’s unlocked,” she calls out, bracing herself for what feral monstrosity might tumble through.

The door opens and Sniper stomps into the room. How she manages to stomp so grouchily in heels, Spy will never know, but the last two steps inside are quiet, sliding against the floor with the barest hint of a tap to betray the point of the heels—deliberate and expert in a way that Spy thinks she might have underestimated Sniper’s ability to prowl, no matter what the footwear.

The door clicks shut and now Spy can’t hear any footsteps at all.

She quickly turns around, wary by this new realization, and finds Sniper standing sullenly in front of her like she’s awaiting her own execution.

Spy stares. Her careful makeover plans for Sniper flutter right out of her brain. Aside from her unhappy expression, Sniper looks more put together than Spy could have ever credited her for. It’s almost offensive.

At first pass, Sniper’s dress is nothing too glamorous—an asymmetrical cut at the ankles in light bronze, the satin fabric gathered up to one side in a pretty slope to the floor. It’s not exactly what Spy would call fashionable for this year’s showing but Sniper’s slim body wears it well. The sweetheart neckline should have been strapless, but she can’t fault Sniper too much for opting for thin golden chains to hold the dress up by the shoulders. With the amount of movement that might happen during the mission, it’s better to be safe than sorry.

As for Sniper’s hair, Spy had gotten her hot curlers out in a bid to shape it into something more interesting, but Sniper had already done up her straight-limp hair in a more formal version of her customary braid, now in an elegant French plait, starting high at the top of her head and running over one shoulder. It’s slightly messy, no doubt due to Sniper’s lack of finesse, but the flyaway strands lead to a chic and charming look to her ensemble. Without meaning to, Spy turns off the hot curlers with a frown.

It’s a fitting silhouette. Spy isn’t so blinded by irony and pessimism that she won’t admit it. She can pick out her favorite detail immediately; the way the fabric of Sniper’s dress sits over her small bust accentuates her already tall height, and Spy’s critical gaze can’t help but trail down the long lines of Sniper’s legs. The side mid-slit was certainly a calculated choice, the faint sheen of lotion over tanned skin doing wonders, but more importantly—

“My god, you’ve shaved,” Spy says in an attempt to sound sardonic but her voice comes out genuinely shocked. She is going to have to reevaluate the amount of work she’s been prepared to do. It might actually be very little.

Realization festers in the back of Spy’s mind. It’s not often that she feels threatened. But she could be.

“Y’act like I ain’t never been dragged to church or some fancy dinner party,” Sniper says, folding her arms across her chest. She leans one shoulder against the doorframe, less annoyed by Spy’s observation and more by the situation itself. The fabric of the neckline scrunches, the barest peek of a dark nipple slipping through. Her posture is as unfeminine as ever, shifting the slit of the dress so that it rides further up her bare thigh.

“The kind of churches you’ve gone to, I’d like to know,” Spy says, dragging her eyes back up with a tremendous amount of effort.

It’s obvious that Sniper isn’t used to wearing dresses, but her lack of demure modesty might draw the wrong kind of attention if she ever decides to sit in a chair as she normally would, slouched with her legs spread out comfortably, no awareness of how her dress slides up in all the right—no, wrong places. Spy might need to find a pin to stitch up the slit a little better. Tape the bust some more to avoid any flashing.

Spy turns back to her vanity. She starts going through her drawers for a needle, thread, and pins. Behind her, she hears Sniper groan, mistaking Spy’s furious rummaging for more work to be done.

Quite the contrary, in fact. The actual neckline is fine as it is, the curves doing well to give the appearance of lift, even if Sniper barely fills out the top half of the dress. If it’d been Spy, she would’ve have used the loose fabric to her advantage, letting the thin golden chains slip from her shoulders every so often. It irritates her that Sniper seems to do it all on her own, on accident with no prompting. Sniper simply gives a single shoulder shrug and the strap slides down, hanging in a pretty loop that seems to fit the shape of her lean bicep.

“Well, let’s just say I don’t do much prayin’ when I visit,” Sniper says. “Same as you.”

When Spy swivels back around, she catches Sniper in the middle of hooking the strap back over her shoulder with two deft fingers. The gesture is so far from being flirty, more unconscious than anything, but it plays a part in the maddening way Spy cannot stop staring.

More gold toned jewelry, Spy thinks calmly, falling back to being critical. It matches her skin and the dress. She gets up from her chair to better inspect Sniper.

A necklace with a long ruby crystal on a delicate chain. Short matching earrings to offset the long hair. A brooch will be needed, tucked behind the right ear; for a hidden knife. Extra bullets around the thigh or in the heels if Sniper can manage walking in something higher.

Spy eyes Sniper’s slender hands. Rings. Perhaps one on the fourth finger, to deter some of the men.

She is about to contemplate the width of the band and size of the diamond when she abruptly becomes aware of her own unusual amount of possessiveness. Almost stricken dumb by it.

It’s unbecoming. Embarrassing, even. Right then and there, Spy stubbornly decides to forego suggesting any rings. Sniper is a grown woman. She can fend for herself; from men, women, and spies alike.

“Well? You’ve been quiet,” Sniper says, raising an eyebrow. A bristly, unshaped eyebrow. “Do I pass muster?”

Damn, Spy hadn’t even thought of make up yet. She reaches out to fix the folds of the bust, giving a couple of perfunctory tugs, but with the open slit down Sniper’s left leg, she can’t help but finger the hem in order to brush her knuckles against Sniper’s thigh. Standing this close, Spy has to look up a little more. She barely comes up to Sniper’s chin, an entire head shorter with Sniper in heels.

Spy bites the inside of her cheek. Sniper is no longer all awkwardly thin and lanky limbs—she is simply tall, trim, and completely devastating to look at.

“When you claimed you already had a dress,” Spy finally says, “this wasn’t what I had in mind.”

The corners of Sniper’s eyes crinkle. “Guilty. Demo got it for me. Lotta eyebrow waggling, so I think the jig’s up with her.”

She hitches the shoulder strap back in place again.

“I’ll have to send her flowers,” Spy mutters and primly kneels down to the floor, fingers still sliding along the hem of Sniper’s dress. When the length of the dress runs out, she simply puts her hands over Sniper’s legs. “And a bottle of wine.”

“What?” Sniper exclaims, pushing off from the door. She glares down at her. “Why her? I’m the one sufferin’ here.”

Spy only laughs, and her grin stays in place when she pulls the hem up slightly. Apparently Sniper had taken a butcher's knife to her legs. Spy can see several missed spots and a thin line of hair at the back of Sniper’s calf, along with tiny little knicks that haven’t had the time to scab over yet.

“Trouble with the razor?” Spy asks, amused, even with the simmering heat in her, “Or did you have to use the kukri?”

“Aw, c’mon. It’ll do, right? So what if I missed a couple of spots. Ain’t no one gonna look at my gams,” Sniper complains. “Don’t make me go back to the showers.”

Spy glances up, leveling Sniper with a stare of disbelief. She heroically doesn’t mention that Sniper is at least three quarters leg, and very good legs, once moisturized and smooth. Somewhat smooth, at any rate. She runs a palm down the calf, stopping when she sees a thin line of blood trailing from a shallow razor cut.

“You’re bleeding,” she notes.

Before Sniper can grumble any further, Spy bends down, tilting her head to lick the running drop of blood. Sniper’s leg tenses in her hands, muscles shifting.

“Spy…”

“I don’t want it to stain your pretty dress,” Spy replies, lips against her skin. It still doesn’t explain the slow line of kisses she leaves behind, hardly necessary to wipe away blood or clean a cut, but Sniper goes quiet. She holds Sniper by the calf and beneath the ankle, her grip gentle before tightening in question.

Sniper uses one hand to grab the doorframe. She finally blushes as she grudgingly lifts her leg, the flat of her heel coming up to rest against Spy’s folded thigh with the faintest wobble.

“I ain’t taking this bloody dress off until the mission’s done,” Sniper growls in warning. “Had a hard enough time wrestling it on.”

Spy flashes her a hungry smile, almost dizzy when she has to look so very up to meet Sniper’s glare.

“Oh, we’ll keep it on,” she replies, and ducks under the dress.

---

[Part 1] | [Part 2] | [Part 3]

[keeryhours]

stop the stars chapter one - billy hargrove

Billy Hargrove x female OC Katelyn Henderson, some Steve Harrington x female OC

Main Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Billy Hargrove Masterlist

Summary:

Billy Hargrove is new in town. He has secrets to keep, a reputation to uphold, and his one rule is not to get close to anyone. He came to Hawkins against his will and he doesn’t plan to stay long.

Katelyn changes everything.

Chapter Warnings:

Underage drinking

Word Count: 2.6k

A/N: This is my first time posting here and my first time writing in forever! I really hope you guys like this and want to read more. I want to get a lot more writing out very soon, and requests are open!

—

Katelyn Henderson was exhausted as cheer practice came to an end. She wiped her sweaty face with a towel, her breathing beginning to return to normal. She always gave practice her all, and today was no exception.

The other girls were giggling - there had been talk about a new student, but she wasn’t particularly interested.

The girls all began to make their way into the locker room, Katelyn joining in. She caught the eye of her friend, Chrissy, who quickly hurried to walk by her side.

“You did great today,” she complimented. “I can’t believe you pulled off that back handspring so easily.”

Katelyn laughed softly, the towel now around her shoulders. “I’ve been working on that for weeks. I definitely didn’t expect to land it today.”

“Guess you’re just that good,” Chrissy said with a smile, bringing one to the other girl’s lips as well.

“I don’t know about all that.”

The girls entered the locker room, already filled with steam from the showers. The other girls on the squad were in various stages of changing, still gossiping about this new guy, who is apparently very hot, according to everyone.

She grabbed her shower stuff from her locker and sat it on the bench before she started undressing. She pulled the ponytail holder from her hair, her wild, dark brown curls falling all around her. They were still bouncy and frizzy as ever despite all the sweating from practice.

Chrissy kept chatting to her as they both pulled off their uniforms.

“So have you heard about this new guy?”

“How could I not,” Katelyn scoffed, pushing her curls out of her face for the millionth time. “It’s all anyone’s been talking about. Haven’t seen him, though.”

“I have,” Chrissy said, wiggling her eyebrows with a mischievous smile on her face. “He’s hot.”

“So I’ve heard,” Katelyn can’t help but giggle at her friend. It’s been annoying to hear everyone else talk about it, but not her best friend.

Completely undressed and with a towel in hand, she gathered up her shower stuff and headed to an open stall, Chrissy following behind and taking the one next to her.

“Are you going to Tina’s Halloween party tonight?” Chrissy asked, yelling over the sound of the water and through the wall dividing them.

“Um, duh,” Katelyn answered, with a laugh from both girls. Neither of them ever missed a party if they could help it.

“Do you have a ride?”

“I think I’m gonna catch a ride with Steve and Nance.”

“Oooh, Steeeeve!” Chrissy sang through giggles, and Katelyn could practically see the huge grin on her face as she teased her. She rolled her eyes.

Okay, sure, she had had a crush on Steve for like, ever. But he was with Nancy now, and clearly very much into her. So friends they would stay, and she wished Chrissy would drop it already.

“Yeah, Steve and his girlfriend.” Katelyn pointed out.

Chrissy scoffed. “Well, rumor has it their relationship isn’t going so well.”

“Chrissy!” Katelyn scolded her friend, although there was the slightest hint of a smile on her lips as she shampooed her hair. “That’s so rude. And Nancy is my friend, too.”

“Oh, come on, you can’t tell me you wouldn’t be excited if they broke up,” Chrissy said, and the smile could be heard in her voice.

Katelyn just laughed to herself, because damn it, she wasn’t wrong. As guilty as she felt about it, she couldn’t lie to herself and say she wouldn’t be relieved if Steve and Nancy broke up. They never seemed that into each other, in her opinion, but that wasn’t her place to say anything about it. Steve seemed happy and he could make his own decisions.

Chrissy finished showering first. Katelyn felt like it took her twice as long to shower because of her hair, which there was just so much of and she always used a lot of products in it. Otherwise it was a frizzy mess. It sometimes turned out that way anyway.

Katelyn finished up, shutting off the shower head and grabbing her stuff, stepping out and wrapping a towel around her body and one around her hair. Chrissy was back at their lockers, brushing her hair.

Katelyn made her way back there, finishing her own post-shower routine as they chatted about random Hawkins gossip. This new guy - Billy - came up often. Apparently, the word was he was going to be at the party tonight.

She was intrigued, maybe, but with the amount of talk about this guy by the girls around school, you’d think he was a movie star. So yeah, she wanted to see him for herself.

—

Katelyn spent hours putting together her costume and getting ready that night. She decided to go as Madonna, dressed in her outfit from the VMAs that year - her white dress with the lingerie style top, tulle skirt with hearts. The outfit was complete with the white lace gloves, necklaces, star earrings, white heels, and Boy Toy belt. She did her hair and makeup just like Madonna’s, bright red lips and a smokey eye look.

She had been working on this costume practically nonstop for weeks, and she honestly felt like she looked great.

Her little brother Dustin and his friends dressed as the Ghostbusters. Their mom made them take about a million pictures, separately and together.

By the time they got out of the house, Steve’s car was already idling at the road. Dustin was ranting about how some asshole had almost run over him and his friends after school today. That made her look at him concerned, but he waved it off.

Katelyn ruffled her brother’s hair before he climbed onto his bike. “Have fun. Be safe. And bring me back some candy.”

Dustin rolled his eyes. “You can have one candy bar. Maybe.”

Before she could say anything else he was off, riding to meet up with his friends for trick or treating. She watched him go for only a moment before climbing into the back of Steve’s car.

Steve and Nancy were wearing a couples costume - Risky Business. It was cute, she begrudgingly admitted to herself.

They greeted her as she got settled in the backseat.

“Wow!” Nancy exclaimed as she fully took in Katelyn’s costume. “That is- incredible!”

Katelyn was beaming, because of course it meant the world that someone acknowledged her hard work. “Thank you.”

Steve turned back to look, his eyes widening slightly. “Damn. Madonna!” he says, which makes Katelyn laugh.

She thought his gaze lingered on her lingerie top for just a second too long, but that might have been wishful thinking.

The three of them drove to Tina’s house, talking about random topics. Katelyn couldn’t help but notice how cute Steve was, like, everything he did. He was funny, he was nice, he made her smile.

Steve had been her first real crush, her first love, as she thought of it sometimes, even though it was unrequited. She had been into him since middle school, even. He was the first boy she ever really noticed, the first one who made her heart beat faster in his presence.

She shook those thoughts of Steve from her head.

They pulled up as close to Tina’s house as they could get with the amount of people there for the party. They walked in together, and it was immediate chaos.

The three of them found their way into the kitchen first, getting started with a few drinks. Katelyn wanted to at least be a little tipsy before she really joined the party.

She spotted Chrissy immediately, and they both lit up in huge smiles and ran into each other’s arms.

“Oh my god,” Chrissy said, “You look amazing.”

“So do you!” she said back - Chrissy had debated on costumes for a while but ultimately decided to go as some kind of vampire queen at the last second - she looked cute, no matter what.

“We need to get you a drink,” she said, grabbing a cup for her and filling it with punch.

“What’s in this?” Katelyn asked, giving it a sip.

“Pure fuel!” Some guy in a toga answers for them, and she doesn’t exactly know what that means, but she goes with it.

She’s a couple drinks down with Chrissy by the time her boyfriend, Jason, interrupts them, stealing Chrissy away.

Left alone, Katelyn began to wander around the party, feeling a little lost but wanting to have some fun tonight.

That was when she found him.

Billy Hargrove was like a magnet to her from day one - second one.

The second she walked into the living room of Tina’s house, she saw him.

Her eyes went to him immediately, and his gaze met hers. It was like time stopped around them.

It’s not that she knew every other guy at this party. It’s not even that she had heard any specifics about him, besides that he was hot and had a great ass. She just knew that that was Billy the second she saw him - it was obvious this was the guy everyone had been talking about.

Because god, was he gorgeous. He was tall, and muscular. He was wearing jeans and a leather jacket with absolutely nothing underneath, his tanned chest on display. He had long blonde curly hair, styled in a mullet. A cigarette sat between his lips as he had been leaning against the wall, talking to some girl.

He had a neutral expression as he looked up at her, but as their gazes met, a smirk grew across his lips.

Her attention was jostled away as Steve grabbed her arm.

“Hey,” he said, a soft smile on his lips. She felt her heart beating faster again at the sight of him, how close he was, his touch on her bare arm. “I was wondering where you snuck off to.”

“I was thinking about dancing. Maybe.” She looked away from him and to the makeshift dance floor.

“I could dance with you,” he offers. “I love to dance.”

She looked back at him quickly, her brows furrowed. “What about Nancy?”

He shook his head. “What about Nancy? I can’t dance with my friend?”

She thought about it for a moment, but then he was pulling her onto the floor, and she couldn’t help but dance with him, laughing the whole time.

They danced for a while, and god, Steve was so much fun. He was really perfect. And also taken, she reminded herself.

When they got tired they went back to the kitchen to grab another drink, meeting back up with Nancy. Then the three of them were back in the living room, drinking and talking.

Katelyn was having a great time. She was starting to really feel the alcohol, and it was making her feel light and free and uninhibited.

She was brought out of their little bubble by the sound of cheering and chanting coming from the back of the house.

“Billy! Billy! Billy!”

The group of them turned to see Tommy marching Billy himself through the living room and straight to them.

“We got ourselves a new Keg King, Harrington,” Tommy said, and then Billy was walking right up on them.

Billy walked up like he was ready for a fight, and Steve took his sunglasses off, standing up like he was willing to give him one. Katelyn looked between them nervously, and Billy’s eyes flicked down to hers, that smirk appearing back on his lips for only a moment before Katelyn felt her arm being pulled harshly.

She stumbled between the two boys as Nancy pulled her towards the kitchen.

“Come on. We need to get drunk.”

And that’s what they did. Katelyn wasn’t sure what was up with Nancy tonight, but she was clearly wanting to get real drunk tonight, and who was she to put a stop to that?

Katelyn drank right along with her all night, and next thing she knew, they were both wasted.

They stumbled back to the kitchen together, giggling, ready to refill their cups - they had lost track of how many drinks they’d had long ago.

“No. You guys have had enough,” Steve said, appearing seemingly from nowhere and reaching for both girls’ drinks.

Katelyn yanked her cup out of reach with a childish “You’re not my mom, Steve.” Nancy wasn’t quite so fast, and Steve grabbed onto her cup. They fought over it, and it fell against Nancy’s chest, covering her white costume in red punch.

Katelyn watched, mouth wide, as it happened, and Steve and Nancy took off to the bathroom, arguing and leaving her behind.

She watched them go before she shrugged, taking a sip and turning back to the party.

She was barely feet into the living room again when she heard someone speak to her, making her freeze where she stood.

“Hey, princess.”

She didn’t even have to look to know who’s deep, smooth voice that was.

She turned to Billy, who was leaning against the wall, a beer in hand and yet another cigarette in his mouth.

She raised her eyebrows, like, Me?, which made him grin in a wicked sort of way.

He gave her a quick nod, so she walked over. Her level of intoxication was making her feel pretty ‘fuck it’ about everything right now.

He put out his cigarette as she approached him, and his eyes trailed her every movement. It made her feel vulnerable.

“You look pretty,” he said, and he didn’t waste any time, putting his free hand on her waist.

His touch nearly made her jump out of her skin. She had never felt this way with guys before. She wasn’t inexperienced, she wasn’t even all that shy. But there was something about Billy that was so intense. The level of eye contact with those deep blue eyes was not helping.

But she had already seen Billy making out with at least one girl at this party so far, so she wasn’t really sure what he was wanting from her.

“Thanks,” she said, trying her best to hold his eye contact but finding herself feeling small under his gaze.

His thumb began to rub circles over the skin beneath her sheer top, his eyes moving down to where his hand rested.

“What’s your name, princess?” he asked when his eyes moved back to hers.

“Katelyn,” she answered him, feeling like her head was spinning. “Henderson. Or…Kate. It doesn’t matter.”

“Kate…” he drawled, and she really liked the way it sounded on his tongue. It sent shivers through her body - she had never heard her name sound so nice. “I’m Billy.”

“I know,” she said, and then she felt like slapping herself, because why did she say that? That was a stupid thing to say.

It made him laugh, which made her heart stutter in her chest.

“Hey, do you wanna get out of here?” he asked her confidently, and she probably would have said yes if she hadn’t felt Steve roughly grabbing her arm.

“What are you doing?” he asked, and he looked pissed. She wasn’t sure if it was at her or at Nancy. Maybe both. “Come on, I’m taking you home.”

Billy watched, amused, as Steve dragged her off.

“I’ll see you around, princess,” he called after her, which made Steve scoff and roll his eyes.

The room spun around her as Steve pulled her along, and she kept stumbling over her feet. Steve sighed, slowing down to wrap an arm around her.

“What about Nancy?” she asked when she realized they were leaving the house without her.

“She’s gonna get a ride home with Jonathan,” Steve said, clearly upset, and she furrowed her brows. She was about to ask more questions when he pushed her into the passenger seat, buckling her in himself.

He clearly didn’t want to talk about it. She spent the beginning of the drive home listening to Steve’s music and trying not to be sick from the movement of the car.

It wasn’t long until she had to close her eyes - and that’s the last thing she remembered from the whole night.

[cosmicquilt]

Sparkle isn’t a person, she’s an archetype

Ok maybe I’m lagging behind and this is already established in the fandom but I’ve not seen anyone talk about this.

Sparkle’s ultimate is called Hero With a Thousand Faces, which is the name of a book about character archetypes and the various tropes that characters fit into. I read through her character stories and realized that Sparkle is an archetype that our Actor is playing as, and that Sparkle the archetype has existed for a long time as a role that people can play as.

This is shown in Character Story 1 where a young girl (I’ll call her Anne, since she doesn’t have a name), sees an acting troupe with a Sparkle (I’ll call her Gertrude). Anne asks if she can play Sparkle as well. Gertrude gives Anne the mask and lets her play Sparkle on the stage, saying that Anne can be Sparkle if she wants. When Gertrude and her troupe move on, she tells Anne that she can be that area’s Sparkle.

“If others believe you are 'Sparkle,' then you are. Go, it's time for your show.”

Another quote:

“By the way, we are leaving tomorrow, so for as long as you want, you are the true Sparkle here, and you can make her whoever you want her to be.”

This is one of the various Sparkles shows in Sparkle’s character stories. The Actors of Sparkle are all unnamed because what matters is that they are Sparkle onstage; and since the world’s a stage, it seems like they are always Sparkle. Deep down though, they’re just Actors for the role of Sparkle, and the Mask, who is the Director, directs the actions of Sparkle, as proven by Character Story 2, where the Actor is forced to do what the Mask directs them to do. The Mask isn’t Sparkle, it’s the director of the character Sparkle, who the Actor plays as.

Sparkle isn’t real; only the Mask/Director and the Actor are.

Each motive for each Actor that leads them to playing Sparkle is different; Actor 1 (Character Story 1) played her because she was fascinated by the archetype, Actor 2 (Character Story 2) played her because of tradition and because she had no identity of her own since she was a puppet, Actor 3 (Character Story 3) played her because she was unable to feel any emotions of her own and used playing Sparkle as a way to try to play as being “human”, and Actor 4 (Character Story 4) is playing Sparkle for the lolz.

This is probably why her trailer had so many Sparkles, since all of them are the same archetype played by different people, meaning they’re all slightly different interpretations of each other, which is probably why the question is who is the “real” Sparkle.

The part that interests me the most is that Sparkle the archetype is also an actress, since it’s shown that Sparkle dons various outfits, which means that the Actors play Sparkle who plays other characters, which I think is a reflection of the bastardization of a character over time and why Sparkle’s actions are so erratic; no one knows who or what the “real” Sparkle is. Sparkle the archetype has been used in so many stories that it’s unclear who Sparkle actually is or what her origins are.

I hope we get to see why our Sparkle became an Actor, or the originals of the Mask.

Critiques of this appreciated!!

[tsunami-of-tears]

Draw me like one of your fae girls

Feyre x Reader (sapphic)

A/N: okay I may have plotted too hard before the porn

Thank you so much to ✨ anon who sent this request in. I’ve diverged a little bit, but most of your points are covered 💛

Wordcount: 2.4K

Warnings: Female reader; we have a little bit of angst/pining; smut (oral - f!receiving, fingering, soft d/s, mommy kink)

The rushing of the Sidra, a crisp breeze rustling through the trees, the soft tap of footsteps on the cobblestone streets, people laughing and chattering as they mill about. Velaris, the city for the dreamers. 

I meander through the artist’s quarter, arms full of my new supplies. A big gust of wind blows down the street and I spin to shield my face, clutching the bundle close to my chest. As I turn, a sign comes into view: 

“Help wanted. Any artistic experience is desirable. Enquire within.”

What are the chances? I’ve been looking for a new job, and being surrounded by art all day sounds like a dream come true. I shift my supplies into one arm and open the door. 

Inside the studio is bright and welcoming. Easels line the room, some holding paintings in various stages of completion. The walls are scattered with artwork, all portraying different subjects– flowers in vases, scenes of restaurants by the Sidra, a boy throwing a ball in the park– all breathing life into the space. Vibrant, joyous life. 

A high-fae female stands behind one of the easels, she has smears of yellow paint on her cheek and smock. Her grey-blue eyes are narrowed in concentration and waves of gold are tied messily in a bun on her head. She bites on her lower lip as she continues painting, her nose scrunching ever so slightly. 

She is captivating. 

She looks up from her work, finally noticing my presence in the room. 

“Oh hello there. I’m sorry, I didn’t see you come in. My name is Feyre,” she smiles warmly at me before setting down her brush and palette. She wipes her hands on her smock, though it doesn’t help much. 

“It’s okay, I just got here. I’m Y/N, I saw your sign outside.” I return Feyre’s smile, and gesture to the door behind me. 

“That didn’t take long,” she laughs. “I put that sign up an hour ago. You’re an artist?”

“Yes, I paint and draw, but my preferred medium is ceramics. I like using my hands.” 

“We have that in common,” she says, her smile turning slightly playful. “I’m looking for someone to assist during classes. It’s gotten so busy, which is wonderful, but my attention is stretched too thin. Do you think that’s something you’re interested in?” 

I nod eagerly, “Absolutely. It’s my dream to be surrounded by art all day. Would you like to see some of my work? The sculptures are difficult to transport but I can deliver some of my sketchbooks.”

“I’d love to, but it’s not required for the position. How soon can you start?” 

I blink a few times, repeating her words in my head to make sure I heard Feyre correctly. “Does next week work?”

———— 

I’m unpacking the fired pottery from the kiln a few months later. Feyre had bought it soon after I started working for her. With her blessing, I’d begun teaching ceramics classes. This last batch was from my regular students who attend once a week.

I’m holding the last piece when Feyre enters. “Wow, these are amazing. You’re doing so well with the students,” she beams. 

“It’s all them,” I respond, setting down the pot carefully.

“Don’t do that,” Feyre tuts. “You’re a great teacher and I’m thrilled to have you working with me.” 

“Thanks, Feyre. I really love it. It’s so rewarding.”

“I’m still waiting on my personal lesson though,” she laughs. “Are you still up for drinks tonight?”

“Definitely. I just need to reload the kiln, the next batch should be dry enough.” 

———— 

Feyre and I walked to the bar arm-in-arm, already giggling at each other and we hadn’t started drinking yet. Since I joined Feyre’s studio, we’ve developed a close friendship, though a small piece of my heart yearns for more. 

She’s mated, I remind myself for the hundredth time. 

As we enter the dimly lit bar, Ressina spots us, calling us over to her booth. I take a seat next to another instructor, Coral, and Feyre slides in beside me. Across from us sits Ressina and her partner, Pollux. 

Ressina had bought a round of drinks for our group just before we arrived. We raise our glasses, clinking them together in cheers before taking a sip. 

“Coral was just telling us about her hot date last night,” Ressina explains. 

“Don’t sound so excited,” Pollux says sarcastically. 

“Oh it’s just fun, we have to live vicariously through our single friends. Feyre gets it, right?” Ressina gestures vigorously towards Feyre.

“Oh actually,” Feyre says, “I might be back on the market.” She takes a casual sip from her drink, as if she had just said the most mundane sentence in the world. 

My jaw drops and my eyes widen in alarm. Across the table, our friends are sporting similar expressions. No one saw that coming. 

“Oh no, not like that!” She quickly reassures us. “Rhys and I are quite happy, we’re just finding it a bit… stagnant. We’ve discussed it at length, and have decided to open our marriage one weekend every month.” 

“Wow Feyre,” Coral says. “Are you and Rhys equally excited about that?” 

Feyre smiles, looking down at her glass, the flush on her cheeks deepening in colour. “We’ve both got different reasons for wanting it but yes, we are. I’ve had my eye on someone,” Feyre’s gaze meets mine for a split second, “and Rhys knew that. It took a lot of conversations to figure out our boundaries, and they’ll likely evolve over time, but we’re taking the first step.” 

“Well congratulations,” Pollux says, raising his glass before taking a swig.

“Thank you,” Feyre says, her eyes finding mine again. I can detect a hint of… longing? Surely not. This wine must be going straight to my head. 

The rest of the night goes on without a hitch. We drink and talk and dance until late into the night when we stumble out of the bar, waving goodbye to our friends who are heading in the opposite direction. Feyre’s arm is wrapped over my shoulders as I do my best to keep her upright. 

“Mmms love you, Y/N,” Feyre slurs, drawing out the syllables of my name. 

“I love you too, Fey,” I answer, quickly grabbing her forearm to stop her falling to the ground. 

“You’re the bestest,” she sighs, slumping in my arms. 

Just as I’m wondering how we’re going to walk home, the darkness in front of us ripples, revealing Feyre’s mate. 

“Feyre Darling,” Rhys coos, scooping her into his arms like she weighs nothing; a stark contrast to my earlier struggles. Feyre wraps her arms around his neck, resting her head on his shoulder. My heart constricts at the sight.

“Perfect timing,” I smile tightly in an attempt to hide my true feelings. 

“The bond was muffled and I got worried, though I now understand why,” Rhys explains. 

Right, the bond. 

“You must be Y/N,” Rhys continues. “She talks about you often.” He smiles, looking down at the female cradled in his arms. “Thank you for taking care of her, do you need to be dropped home?” 

“No, thank you. The walk will sober me up.”

“Of course, I’m sure we’ll meet again at some point. Goodnight, Y/N.” Rhys inclines his head before disappearing into the night with Feyre safely in his arms. 

The walk home certainly was sobering. How could I be silly enough to believe she thought of me in any light other than as a friend? Surely she meant she was opening her marriage to other males. Not me.

———— 

A few weeks after our night out, I’ve finally given in to teaching Feyre how to use a pottery wheel. She’d been gushing over my latest collection all week - a series of vases celebrating the divine feminine, the Mother. She was dying to get her hands dirty, quite literally. 

The reason I was hesitant to teach Feyre wasn’t because of her artistic talents. No, I hadn’t stopped thinking about her confession. I hadn’t stopped hoping she meant me.

Feyre is perched on a stool across from me, the pottery wheel in between us with a lump of earthenware clay. Feyre had quickly picked up how to work the peddle, now she just needed to use her hands to shape the clay.

She put her fingers into the centre of the ball like I demonstrated, easing the sides outwards as it spins. As she concentrates, her nose scrunches up and she bites her lip. It’s the same face she always makes when she’s engrossed in creating something. 

“It keeps getting wider, how do I make it go back in again?” Feyre asks. 

“Here,” I put my wet hands on top of Feyre’s, helping her ease the clay in the direction she wanted. “Perfect,” I smile. Feyre looks up from her work to smile back at me. With her focus shifted, her foot slips and the wheel spins out, spraying both of us with muddy water. We both erupt in giggles as we look at the mess covering each other. 

“And I thought painting was a messy hobby,” Feyre laughs. 

———— 

Feyre finished her creation - a simple round vase that she has plans to paint once it’s fired. 

The two of us are cleaning up our tools and hands in the large basin. The laughter from earlier is gone,  leaving us with a comfortable silence. 

Feyre sighs, “It’s the last weekend of the month.”

“I do have a calendar,” I tease. 

“No I mean, it’s the weekend Rhys and I decided on.”

“Oh,” I say quietly. “Do you have anything planned?” 

“I have someone I’d like to ask, but I’ve been a bit worried about how they’ll react,” Feyre admits. 

My heart breaks a little bit at her admission. “You do not need to be worried, you’re gorgeous. I doubt anyone could reject you.”

“I guess,” Feyre sighs.

The silence has now grown deafening between you. 

Finally, Feyre breaks it. 

“What are you doing tomorrow?” she asks. 

“Hey, I thought we were talking about you here!” I exclaim. 

“We still are. I was hoping you’d like to join me.”

Oh. 

OH.

Blood rushes to my cheeks, and I know my mouth has fallen open. 

I look down, unable to meet her gaze as my heart races, the sound pounding in my ears.  “Yeah, I would like that,” I respond. 

———— 

Kissing Feyre was everything. 

Soft lips against mine. Soft hair between my fingers. 

Her scent is dizzying. 

This kiss is all-consuming. 

Every thought, every touch, it’s all her. 

Slowly, her hands slip down my body. Brushing down my neck, grazing over my breasts. 

We’re in her townhouse. I’m lying on the couch with Feyre on top of me, her thighs on either side of my hips. 

We barely made it through the front door before our hands and lips were all over each other. 

Feyre sits up, panting as she regains her breath. She peels off her top, throwing it to the side before doing the same with mine. 

“I can’t believe you asked,” I say, propping myself up on my elbows.

“I can’t believe you said yes,” she retorts, leaning down to kiss me again. 

Feyre kisses down my exposed neck, teasing along my collarbone, surely littering my skin with marks. 

She keeps kissing lower, taking one of my hardened nipples into her mouth and sucking. She takes the other between her thumb and finger, pinching softly. I gasp at the sensation, my hips roll, desperately begging for more.

Feyre hums against my chest, nipple still in her mouth as she grazes it with her teeth, eliciting another gasp from me. 

“You make such pretty sounds,” she says, swinging her leg over my body to stand on the floor. Feyre extends her hand for me to take. “Let’s go somewhere with more room, I want to explore every inch of you.” 

I take her hand, following her upstairs to the bedroom. 

We remove the rest of our clothes before Feyre motions for me to lie in the centre of the wide bed. She crawls between my legs, her face hovering centimetres above mine, her hand gentle against my cheek. 

Feyre leans down to kiss me again. Each stroke of her tongue is intentional. 

I wonder what that tongue would feel like in other places. 

I’m not left wondering for long as Feyre moves down my body. She pauses above my exposed sex, stroking down the outside of my thighs. 

“So pretty,” she says. “May I?” 

“Please,” I moan. 

“Such good manners too baby,” Feyre purrs, dipping her head between my legs.

She starts slow, lapping at me like a cat laps at milk. 

My hips start rolling and she presses them down firmly. 

“So responsive,” she laughs and I whine at the loss of contact. 

Feyre goes in with her fingers next, softly tracing along my clit at an agonising pace. 

I moan as the strokes turn to circles, giving me even more friction. My eyes close, allowing my body to focus on the feeling. 

“I like that noise,” she says, “but what sound do you make when I do this–” Her fingers slide down inside me and she starts to fuck me slowly. My moans get even louder as she starts to curl her fingers, hitting my sweet spot. I writhe beneath her fingers and she starts to pick up her pace. 

“You’re doing so good baby, tell Mommy how good it feels,” Feyre says, lowering her mouth to my clit once again. 

“Mmmm Mommy, feels so good. Mm so close.” I babble, eyes rolling as Feyre’s tongue circles my clit in tandem with her fingers. 

“Cum for me baby,” Feyre says, her fingers keeping their steady pace. 

A few more hard thrusts are all it takes to send me barrelling over the edge, crying out as the waves of pleasure roll over me. 

“Such a good girl,” Feyre says, slowing her thrusts as I ride out the high. 

My body stills as Feyre crawls beside me, wrapping her arms around me. She softly kisses the top of my head as I sigh contentedly. 

“How are you feeling?” Feyre asks. 

“Phenomenal.” 

Feyre laughs at my answer. “Are you tired, or do you want to keep going?” she questions.  

“I’m not even close to being done, it’s your turn.”

“Well then, come here and show Mommy some appreciation.” 

“Gladly.”

[machveil]

Will we be seeing Konig in fluffy sweaters or scarves or hats as the seasons get colder? Also may we have a peak at the WIP list? -🐸

so… I may or may not have ~24 drafts right now - that said, I want to say, like, five are done and waiting to be posted/reread. my inbox is also stuffed thank you thank you thank you. I actually have eight of yours all in various stages of being written - Johnny snooping on Simon’s ‘housekeeper’ is the one closest to being posted!

otherwise, I have a wide variety: I have a Neighbor!König ask (🍄), a couple König x M!Reader asks, König having a bus stop crush (🐰), more Loser!König asks thank you sobbing over him, and a couple CoD Headcanons amongst a lot of other things

uuh even though it sounds like I’m drowning in asks please keep sending them in haha, I don’t mind and it’s never a bother. I usually answer random, miscellaneous asks a little quicker (unless it explodes my brain, then it becomes a big fic). Tumblr’s been good about not eating asks so just assume it’s in the works and it will be see the light of day at some point

König, first of all, despises being sick. everything sucks - he gets watery eyes, a stuffy nose - usually results in him breathing through his mouth, and he feels like death. so, when König notices the air getting a little colder he breaks out all his winter clothes. he keeps them in a box in his closest, they only appear for the autumn and winter

König’s mama definitely bundled him up as a child. a big, warm scarf and gloves she made herself, a massive, thick jacket that swallowed him - if König wanted to go outside and it was cold out he had to wear layers. it’s sort of been ingrained in his head, as an adult he has the same mentality. he’s already a big, broad man, but come autumn? his massive, puffy jacket looks ridiculous makes him look even bulkier

König does appreciate the colder seasons though - he genuinely likes wearing sweaters, but he can only do it when it’s in season. he tries to wear thick, comfortable sweaters at home in late spring and summer but he gets too hot, even with the AC blasting. he can maybe get away with wearing a sweater if he’s somewhere naturally cooler, but even then he might start sweating a lot

König doesn’t skimp on warm comfort food during the colder seasons. a classic chicken soup, snacking on *erdäpfelknödel and having them as a side with some hot stew. König associates soups with the colder seasons, he’ll bundle up in a warm sweater and call his mama while he cooks her recipes. his mama never writes down her recipes because she knows them (duh, König) so he always has to consult her. he tried writing a recipe down once… she found out and refused to cook his favorite food when he visited home. he had to record himself tearing up the paper he wrote on before she would cook his favorite food again - his siblings constantly bring it up whenever she cooks for him

*I Googled Austrian comfort foods and, god, those look good?? love a good potato dumpling

[aurora-daily]

AURORA: "People Deserve Complicated Music"

AURORA's interview for Junkee by Ky Stewart (September 11th, 2024)

AURORA is a once-in-a-generation artist. Unrestrained by genre, her music always feels just outside our grasp. So, as might expect, our conversation was insightful, inquisitive, and filled with childlike wonder and joy.

I was scrolling through Tumblr the first time I heard an AURORA song. It was 2015, a year after she’d released her first album All My Demons Greeting Me as a Friend. The post was a clip from her music video for ‘Murder Song (5,4,3,2,1)’. It was dark and tender. I was captivated by how expressive she was. Just 18 years old, she already knew just the right spot to jab you and reach your soul.

So I jumped down the AURORA rabbit hole. I quickly fell in love with that album, discovering fan favourites like ‘Running With The Wolves’ and ‘Runaway’. She was truly a Tumblr darling and, as it turns out, had absolutely no idea that so many of us were posting her lyrics on random edgy backgrounds. “Oh my god, that's so sweet,” AURORA tells me. “I didn't know that. That's insane. I had no idea. That's really sweet, because I feel like the Tumblr community were always my kind of people. That's really nice. I'm gonna try to find some of those posts now.” (Unfortunately, most of Tumblr has been killed off but there’s still some dedicated AURORA fan pages kicking around on there. I hope she found them.)

A lot of us from Tumblr grew up with AURORA’s music. Her albums have been part of how I made sense of the world around me at various stages of my life. Her newest album What Happened To The Heart? is no different. At a time of incredible turbulence, I often find myself asking where our collective empathy has gone. Or if we ever had it in the first place. How can we watch other people suffering and do nothing about it? These questions are AURORA’s inspiration. “There's always quite a lot behind my albums and I think a lot about the world when I write,” AURORA says. “I try to think about what I feel is the purpose of my music, and what I feel the world deserves to hear. I felt it was time for a question, especially the question, what happened to the heart? I was thinking about it a lot, and I realised that I found this question to be very interesting and very important. I think I found the answer.” 

For AURORA, the answer lies in how society has been stripped of compassion. “I'm nervous about a lot of the problems in the world today [and] the general unfairness in how our resources are divided upon the people,” she says. “The general unfairness that some people are given a chance in this life and some people aren't, and how the world just lets that happen. We haven't figured out a way to lift each other up more because people like to be comfortable, which I understand. It's hard to give away our comfort. To try to lift up someone we haven't even met yet is a hard thing for humans to do.” 

She adds, “I think we can actually feel that something is a bit off with life on Earth. Because we are very disconnected and we have closed up on that spiritual side of being human. And it kind of worries me that I feel something is a bit hollow inside of us, and that's why I answer the question, what happened to the heart? Because something is a bit messed up with how we live now.”

What I’ve always appreciated about AURORA, beyond her ability to make ethereal music, is how politically vocal she is. AURORA’s music has always been rooted in people, in their stories, and in how they feel. She cares deeply about people’s pain and uses her music to fight back — or at the very least, help people feel heard. Recently, she dedicated her protest song ‘The Seed’ from her 2019 album A Different Kind Of Human (Step II) to “all the children of Palestine, Sudan, Congo, Yemen, and Syria”.

“There are so many people in the world now that listen more to people they look up to, rather than experts on the matters of the world,” AURORA says. “A lot of [these] people are idiots and they say so many strange things and lead people the wrong way, like Trump… It’s chaotic when famous people have opinions that people follow so blindly without taking the time to actually measure your words or find out where they come from. It really scares me. [But] if people look up to me, I'm going to do as much as I can to say things they deserve. I think music really helps me do that, because I don't have to be too blunt, I don't have to be too harsh, I don't have to speak about things in the world in the same way most people do. We like to gather people around a common enemy, or to divide people with fear and then rile them up. I think it's so cool to rile people up with something that is, in its roots, fuelled by love.”

In preparation for the interview, I watched AURORA’s old music videos — the ones she made before the world fell in love with her. The bio said “Aurora Aksnes is a 18-year-old girl from Bergen, Norway. She strives to write music that can inspire people, through idiosyncratic tales of struggle, love, and all that lies in between.” Ten years later and she’s still doing exactly that. To AURORA, music is a language we all speak so why wouldn’t you use it to try to help others? “I wanted [the album] to be a mirror,” she says. “To do a soft beginning, because the first song is very spiritual, and numb [where] you ignore the thing screaming inside of you to be seen. Then the album goes quite dark because we ignore our roots. It's in our nature to be caring and kind. We do so much for the people we love and it's so pure. So we know that we're capable of it. But when we ignore this nature, we grow bitter and sour and broken.”

What Happened To The Heart? is as enigmatic as AURORA is. The album opens with the delicate ‘Echo Of My Shadow’, then we slam into dance-pop songs like ‘Your Blood’ and ‘Do You Feel’ or the techno club offering ‘Starvation’. Songs to get your body moving and your heart pumping. But there’s also folk and soft-rock. No matter the genre, her voice pierces through you. This concoction of sounds makes perfect sense to AURORA. For her, the sound of a song is less important than its essence. “I don't really think much when I produce,” she says. “I just feel and I just do, because I don't really have any rules when I make the skin around the soul of my songs, as long as the soul of the song feels right, it can wear whatever clothes it wants. It will still be okay, which is a comforting thing, because it helps you to not be a perfectionist. That steals the joy of creating from yourself, which is easy to do in this world.”

AURORA’s eclectic sound makes sense when you consider her influences. “I grew up with a lot of Leonard Cohen, Joan Baez, and Bob Dylan,” she says. “Also grew up with Enya. She was my biggest inspiration when I started making music. I just realised the healing power of voices and how much I can do. ‘Runaway’, which is one of my biggest songs now, is just the voice. The whole song is just accompanied by my own voice, trying to become choirs around my leading vocals, so that's been a very important part of my production journey. I'm very into Cohen, his way of telling stories in music, which I've obviously been very inspired by, especially in the beginning with songs like ‘Little Boy In The Grass’ and ‘Murder Song’, which are very [big] storytelling songs. And Bob Dylan taught me that I could be political and say things about the world in a nice way or in a funny way or in a hard way, depending on what you want. So these people all taught me very important messages. [When] I grew up, I learned about heavy metal and the Chemical Brothers. I think my idea of a perfect song is a mix with the Chemical Brothers, weird sounds like Enya and a bit of metal and folk. That's kind of the essence of what I find beautiful.”

AURORA is deeply connected to the environment. She’s been a strong advocate for environmental rights in Norway and trying to help the global fight to stop the ever increasing impacts of climate change. All of this is evident when I ask if she’s excited to return to Australia for an upcoming tour. “Oh, honestly, I'm so excited,” she says. “I think Australia is one of my favourite places to tour. It's so beautiful. It has the adventurous, grandness, and largeness that I feel when I'm in America, but you're not like America at all. So it's large and adventurous, which is exciting when you're from Norway. But it's still so friendly, and I'm so in tune with a lot of the politics. I'm not so familiar with the current situation, but I like what you did with the gun laws and to prevent massive shootings. And the Indigenous peoples, I feel a lot of admiration for, and there’s a certain charge in the land in Australia that I cannot explain. It feels very spiritual there, and the nature feels like home. I know it's so different from home, that I feel so curious and excited, but it's still so like home that I feel safe and I understand what's going on. I don't know, I love Australia. I love being there. [The] people are so pretty as well. And the bugs. I love bugs. You have all the scary ones there, and it's so fun. I really am excited to be back. I hate that it's only like every second year. I wish I could come every year.”

It’s such a joy to experience an artist like AURORA. Her music is charged with so much life and energy. You find something new every time you listen to her songs. Something she’s tucked away in the corner for you to find. She makes music that forces you to stop and think about what’s being offered to you. And that’s exactly how she wants it. 

“I like making complicated albums because I have listeners who deserve complicated music,” AURORA says. “We're being served a lot of uncomplicated stuff, which can also be good, but if that's the only thing we get, I don't think it's good for our brains. People are very clever, and I think it's important to not underestimate them.” 

[bwabys-scenarios]

Fixer Upper

Part 31

Perv!Kurapika x Fem!Reader

pt 30

pt 32

A/N: Please remember that until further notice ALL of these chapters are FLASHBACKS that take place BEFORE THE BEGINNING OF FIXER UPPER! Just clarifying again because I’m tired of having to explain it 😭😭

warnings: lots of death, animal death, Kurapika gets drunk again lol, Reader’s suicidal thoughts/urges brought up

taglist: @tsukilover11 @ashdownunderscorebeloved @lemonslut @sweetstraberrybear @superweeniehutjrsblog @bugmomwrites @heartsforseo @lixiawinter @altaircc @itszenava @fiightforlovee @mimi-sanisanidiot @monainanuttshell @wow-im-gay @whorermoviestar @lightshowerrr @mama-m1na @nenggie @wicked-binch @jamayah @themanicwriter01

If you’d like to be ADDED to the taglist, please comment a red heart ❤️, make sure you’re able to be tagged/mentioned, and have your age in your bio(IF YOU ARE ALREADY ON THE TAGLIST, YOU DON’T NEED TO ASK TO BE ADDED AGAIN!!)

(Name) stood in her apartment after reaching York New city, packing more essentials now that she was more prepared for the trip she was going to be taking.

They were headed to NGL, a country where people lived alongside nature. Apparently that’s where Kite assumed the chimera ant queen claw came from.

As she was about to leave, her phone began to rang.

“… Melody?” she answered as she walked out of the door. Melody sounded frantic on the other end, blubbering.

“It’s Kurapika, he got himself drunk again and won’t stop crying! I’m trying to coax him out of the bar, but he won’t listen to me.”

(Name) paused, standing outside of her apartment, her key hovering over the lock. “… he what?”

“He’s incredibly drunk, and won’t stop crying. I don’t know what to do, I’m afraid he’ll make himself sick.”

(Name) paused, rubbing her temple. ‘What has gotten into him? Why is he acting like this when he’s always been so calm and collected?’

“I’m about to leave for another country. Leorio should be the second closest person to your location, I’ll text him.”

Melody sighed in relief over the phone, and (Name) could vaguely hear Kurapika slurring his words and the sound of objects being thrown around.

“Thank you, (Name). I know talking about him upsets you, I don’t mean to burden you-“

“No, it’s not a burden at all. He… he may have done and said some bad things, but I still love him with all my heart.”

She sighed softly, calling Leorio shortly after. He picked up almost immediately. “(Name), how are you doing? I’m sorry I haven’t been able to visit you, I’ve been-“

“Leorio…”

He paused, immediately going silent at the sound of her voice. “… what happened?”

(Name) locked her apartment, looking at the address Melody sent her. “It’s Kurapika. Apparently he’s drunk and won’t listen to reason. I can’t go for various reasons, but do you think you c-“

“No.”

She blinked, taking a moment to think before responding. “… no? What do you mean?”

“(Name), do you seriously expect me to help him after everything he put you through? For gods sake, you nearly killed yourself!”

The air grew thick and tense, and she could hear Leorio sigh over the phone. “I… I shouldn’t have said that. But my point still stands. How can you even think about helping him after that? The things he said to you… I care about you, (Name), but you need to think of yourself for once. I know you love him, but… there’s only so much you can do for someone that’s stuck in the past.”

She teared up, trembling. (Name) knew Leorio was right, she really did, but she couldn’t just leave Kurapika to potentially hurt himself or others. It wasn’t right. “Please…”

Leorio felt his heart leap into his throat when he heard how desperate she sounded. He knew just from the sound of her voice that she was crying. He slapped a hand over his forehead, cursing himself mentally for snapping at her. She was still in a very sensitive stage of healing, it wasn’t the right time to be saying these things to her.

“For me, Leorio… I couldn’t live with myself if I knew he got hurt…” she pleaded. He could picture the tears falling down her chubby cheeks, and her hands trembling as they held onto her phone.

He groaned, rubbing his temple. “Alright, alright… but I won’t be nice about it.”

She sniffled, and he was relieved when he heard a little laugh escape her lips. “Haha… thank you, Leorio. Be safe, love you.”

“You be safe, got me worried to death over here. I’ll come running if you need me, don’t hesitate to call my phone if you run into trouble on your mission.” Leorio said, his eyes softening as he looked at her contact photo.

“And… I love you too.”

She smiled, her finger hovering over the end call button. “Goodbye, Leorio.”

“Bye, sunshine.”

Leorio glanced at the address (Name) texted him before signing heavily. ‘He never thinks about how his actions will affect others, does he? There’s no way I’ll be nice to him about this.’

He put on his coat and made his way to his car, placing his cup of coffee in the cup holder. Leorio wasn’t going to let this slide.

Not at all.

———————

(Name) met up with the others at the airport, spotting Gon and Killua sitting together. As soon as they noticed her, the two boys perked up, Gon waving his hand with a big smile on his face. “(Name), you’re back!”

She put on the best smile she could. (Name) had tried her hardest to wipe away any evidence that she had been crying on her way to the airport, but Killua still raised an eyebrow when she got closer.

Gon was the one to point it out, though. “(Name)… are you alright? You look like you’ve been crying.”

A sigh left her lips before she could stop herself, the (h/c) haired woman waving her hand dismissively. “I’m fine, where’s Kite?”

She nearly jumped when Kite walked into view, almost as if he was summoned. Killua and Gon turned to face him as he began to speak.

“It may be a bit late to ask, but are you sure you want to come?”

“Of course!” Gon answered immediately, wearing his usual smile.

“You’re my nen teacher, I don’t have much of a choice.” (Name) said, folding her arms.

“You weren’t kidding about the “late” part.” Killua replied with a smirk.

Kite glanced at them before looking ahead. “We have no idea what the situation is like inside NGL. There may very well be a swarm of giant Chimera Ants already, hunting humans down. If that turns out to be the case, my priority will be saving them, so I may not be able to help any of you. You must be able to protect yourselves. If you want to come, that’s the requirement.”

With the last line, Killua spared (Name) a glance, his expression changing only enough for his closest friend to notice. “Okay, got it.” Gon agreed to Kite’s requirements, gently squeezing Killua’s hand. It was his way of saying that they would be okay, that (Name) would be okay.

“We’ll be fine.” Killua said, relaxing slightly with Gon’s comforting touch. Again he snuck a glance at (Name) who was looking intently a kite. Killua didn’t think she was weak, but he knew she wasn’t on their level of strength at all. Although he worried, he was confident that either him or Gon would be able to protect her if push came to shove.

This thought made the young assassin pause. ‘When did I come to care for her so much?’

He thought back to the Hunter Exam, remembering when she stepped in front of the woman who planned on killing him and got hurt in the process, or when she covered him and Gon in her cardigan to keep them warm during the Third Phase. She even let the boys stay at her apartment when they came for the York New auction, feeding and housing them for free. It wasn’t often that people showed Killua genuine kindness.

Unfortunately, Killua was used to working with a guve and take sort of relationship. ‘If I keep her safe during this, it’ll more than pay back for all the nice things she’s done. Then I won’t be in her debt.’ Killua thought to himself, trying to shake off the feeling of dread he had about her coming with them. Caring for too many people was a recipe for disaster, especially going into a dangerous situation like this one. The more you worried about others, the more likely you are to get yourself killed.

“Don’t worry boys, I’ll keep you safe.”

Killua felt his stomach sink at (Name)’s words. A soft, but firm hand was placed on both of their shoulders as she spoke. “I won’t let anything happen to you, not on my life.”

His chest hurt, it felt like he was having trouble breathing. Why was this woman that was obviously so much weaker than them so determined to keep them safe, when it was them who should be protecting her? Why did she put herself in harms way when she didn’t have to, when it didn’t benefit her? Killua didn’t understand, he couldn’t understand.

But… it made him feel strangely… happy. Someone in this world was determined to keep him safe, to keep him happy and warm and fed. No one had ever given him that type of security before. Sure Gon was his friend who he loved and cherished, but he couldn’t give Killua the type of love (Name) did.

The love a mother had for her son.

‘Mom…’

Killua looked at her a little differently, staying silent as Kite spoke up once more.

“And if I’m the one who’s in danger, you should escape without me.” Kite finished, looking between the three of them. “Got it?”

None of them answered, his words leaving them uneasy.

As they flew over York New city, the sun began to set before they knew it. (Name), Gon, and Killua watched as the sun set outside of the airship.

“What did you just decide?”

“Remember what Kite said before we left? That we should escape without him if he’s in danger.”

“Yeah, I don’t think it was a choice.”

“Yeah. That’s why none of us answered, but I’ve been thinking. Is it possible for Kite, who earned Ging’s respect, to be in that much danger?”

(Name) frowned, leaning against the wall. That was a question only a child would ask. Of course, regardless of skill, one could always be in danger given the right circumstance. There was always a bigger fish, someone was alway stronger than you.

“You said that Ging had a reason for bringing Kite and me together…” Gon said, glancing to Killua.

“Yeah.”

“You’re probably right. I don’t know the reason, but I can’t give up halfway, no matter what’s going on. Otherwise I’ll disappoint Ging. Of course, I could never forgive myself, either. So I won’t run away. Thats I’ve decided.”

Killua sighed. “Man, you had this totally serious expression, so I was expecting something big. But it’s just business as usual.”

“Huh? I thought about this a lot. I even ran a bunch of mental simulations…”

(Name) tried not to laugh imagining Gon trying his best to think of possible situations that may happen in the near future.

“Think all you’ll want, but you’ll still be Gon. If someone said you should abandon them, you’d never do it.” Killua replied, unable to keep himself from smiling:

“Mmm… you make it sound like I wasted my time considering it. Then what about you?”

“I’m a spontaneous guy, so I’d think about it when the time comes.”

“You mean you might run away?”

Killua paused for just a moment, his eyes moving from (Name) then back to Gon. He exhaled, shrugging his shoulders.

“Depends. I can’t say until it actually happens.”

“Say for instance…”

“I can’t tell you what is do in a hypothetical situation. I don’t decide until it’s time.”

The air ship carried the group heads for the Mitene Union, still unaware of the cruel fate that lies in wait for them…

————————

Seeking the giant Chimera Any, Kite’s group has arr he’s in the Mitene Union. Now, they travel from the Republic of Rokario to the neighboring GGL Autonomous Region. “NGL, huh? They believe living naturally is always better. They may be weird for living there, but you guys are weird for coming to visit, too. No idea what’s going on, but I’ve already driven in about ten similar groups today alone.”

“Ten groups?!” Gon exclaimed, turning to look at the man driving them.

“Yeah.”

“Then it sounds like we’re among the last to arrive.” Kite said, gazing out the window.

The all exited the van, (Name) groaning as she stretched lightly. “Ugh, my legs fell asleep. K-Kite!”

She held onto his arm, her legs shaking like a newborn giraffe as she tried to regain her balance.

“I told you to not sit on your leg, but you wouldn’t listen.” Killua teased, poking her leg. She yelped and nearly fell over, but was kept steady by a firm hand on her lower back.

“Those two huge trees serve as the checkpoint and embassy,” the driver said, pointing to the large trees ahead of them.

“Those may be the biggest trees I’ve ever seen in my life. Hmm…” (Name) walked towards them. “These probably hold so much history. Do you think they were around before the people living in this country?”

“Probably long before.” Kite answered, smiling softly as she waddled on ahead with Killua and Gon flanking her in case she stumbled. “Stay alert. The ants are a concern, but the NGL is more than a nature loving organization.”

“Got it.”

Two men met them at one of the trees, smiling in a vaguely friendly way. “What brings you here?”

“We’re on a hunt. A quarantined organism may have invaded this country.”

“If you are pro Hunters, then we cannot deny you entry. Follow me.”

They walked inside, where men were typing away on computers. “You’re using computers to and machines.” Killua said, staying near (Name)’s side.

“This place isn’t within NGL’s borders. This area is used for foreign relations and information exchange.”

“Are there any facilities similar to this within the country?”

“No, not a single one. No machines of any kind are allowed inside NGL. Naturally, visitors are also not allowed to bring any inside. Which means you’ll need to remove all metallic, petroleum, glass, or other such goods on your person.”

“D-Does that included my glasses?”

“Yes. If your clothes, belts, shoes, or underwear contain any plastic, chemicals, or metal you must remove.”

(Name)’s face heated up, and she took a step back. Both Killua and Gon didn’t seem very pleased, but stayed quiet.

“You’re kidding. You’re telling us to strip naked?” Spin said, popping her bubblegum.

“Don’t worry. There is natural clothing for sale upstairs.”

“Also, if there are any bolts inside your body, dental implants, gold, silver. Or silicone enhancements that cannot be removed, you will not be allowed to enter.”

(Name) accompanied the others upstairs, looking around the racks for suitable clothing. She was disappointed to see very sparse options in the plus size section. ‘Well, at least there’s something.’

She walked out, wearing a tanktop and baggy sweatpants. It wasn’t super flattering, but the clothes were strangely comfortable.

“Miss, you can keep your cardigan. It’s made with wool and died with beetroot juice.”

Killua and Gon watched as she happily donned her signature cardigan. “Ah, that’s fortunate. I really didn’t want to leave it behind.”

She walked down the stairs, joining the others. Kite watched as she smiled softly, gently patting her cardigan. “Only six of us are left?”

He glanced out the window. “I want you to stand by in the closest town. We’ll return here within two weeks and contact you.”

“Got it.”

The group was taken across to the other tree. “The checkpoint is over there. There will be a physical exam and interview as well as metal, x-ray, and ultrasound scanning.”

Kite sighed, surveying the area. “The security is rather strict.”

“Some people have smuggled in guns by hiding the parts inside their bodies. It’s common for people to hide cameras or cellphones in their rectums. Some people even trained animals to bring them laptops once they are inside.”

After thoroughly checking them, the woman gave them a friendly smile. “All of you are clean.”

(Name) sighed, looking as they stored away her medication, even her inhaler. Killua and Gon glanced at each other then to her.

“(Name), are you sure you should come without your inhaler? Leorio said it was very important that you keep it on you at all times…” Gon said, tilting his head.

She shrugged, buttoning her cardigan up slightly. “Meh, I’ll probably be fine… I just have to take it easy.”

“This isn’t exactly the place where you’ll be able to take it easy, dummy.” Killua replied, lightly smacking her head.

“Owie…”

She held her head and followed them as they were guided towards the entrance to the NGL.

“Thank you for your patience. Please pass through,”

The walked out, (Name) nearly being blinded by the bright light.

“Welcome to the NGL!”

The looked out across the landscape, being somewhat unimpressed. “Okay, let’s begin the hunt.”

———————

(Name) held on tightly to Kite’s waist, her face buried into his back. “I didn’t know you were scared of horses, (Name),” Killua teased from the back of another horse.

“I’m n-not afraid of horses, I just don’t like riding them!”

“They’re gentle creatures, you don’t have to be afraid.”

“Gon, I said I’m not afraid of horses! I’m afraid of riding on the back of a galloping creature with little to no way to stay secure!”

Kite glanced back at her, his hand gently taking hers. “I won’t let you fall, so don’t worry.”

She paused, her cheeks beating up ever so slightly as she buried her face further into his back. “Thanks… that might make up for you forgetting to teach me.”

He snickered. “I still intend to teach you, when we have the time.”

“Uh huh.”

Killua’s watched the interaction, his eyebrows furrowing. He wasn’t sure how to feel about it, he felt strangely protective over her, and he wasn’t as sure about Kite as Gon was.

They took a short break, Killua pulling (Name) over to sit with him and Gon while they looked over a map. “Woah, slow down. You’re pulling me too hard.”

“Sorry.”

He didn’t sound very sorry. She huffed, kneeling beside the two as they went over the map. As they spoke, she rummaged through her bag to hand out some water and snacks.

“They’re still following us, aren’t they?” Gon said, making (Name) look up. Killua nodded.

“Yeah… they claim to be here in case we encounter unknown tribes and require interpreters or intermediaries, but they’re obviously here to watch us.”

“Well, I never expected the people here to be of any help. My gut tells me that it’s here.” (Name) jumped slightly when Kite walked over.

“You really think so? The air does seem… off.”

Kite nodded, walking back towards their horse. “Yeah, let’s get going. We’re burning daylight.”

They continued on horseback, (Name) finding a bit of courage to look around. The area was desert like, so quiet a bit of dust was kicked up by the horses. She squinted her eyes, spotting a small dot of yellow approaching them.

‘Is that… no, it can’t be…’

“Kite, we have to stop!”

Kite brought the horse to a stop, the others following suit. As they looked to her for an explanation, one of the bees landed on her finger, a piece of paper stuck to it.

“This… this is one of Ponzu’s bees.”

Kite took the paper, reading over it before handing it to Gon and Killua.

The note read: “Help!! Chimera ant nest! Rocky Area, notify Hunter Association!!” along with a small drawing of said rocky area.

“It’ll be dangerous… but could you accompany me?” Kite asked looking to the three.

“Of course!” Gon said immediately, the bee landing on his finger.

“We’re pros…” Killua agreed, glancing (Name)’s way. He was hoping she would turn back, but when he noticed the expression on her face, he knew there was no way she would be leaving.

“Yeah… I’m going. I want to know if Ponzu is okay.”

Killua helped (Name) off of the horse, holding onto her hand. “Are you sure? Like Kite said, it’s going to be dangerous.”

He was hoping he could persuade her, but knew he couldn’t. When she wanted to do something, she would do it. “I’m sure. Thank you for worrying though, Killua.”

Killua felt his face go red as she ruffled his hair. Although he usually wouldn’t let people get away with treating him like a child… he didn’t mind if it was her. It wasn’t done to demean him or put down his accomplishments, it was purely because she cared about him, and he was beginning to realize that.

“Miss Interpreter… sorry, but we’re in a hurry.” Kite said to the woman that had been following them.

“Yes. The horses can move a bit faster.”

“They won’t be fast enough. I want you two to return to the border, find the others, and get word to the Association. These creatures are dangerous.” Kite said to the others.

“Got it.”

“Be careful, Kite.”

(Name) began to stretch with Killua and Gon, lacing up her shoes again and tying them extra tight. She wasn’t sure how long she could run for, but she knew she could keep up with them for a good bit.

“If you can’t keep up, I’ll leave you behind.” Kite warned, getting off the horse. Killua huffed.

“Right back at you.”

“All ready to go!” Gon said, smiling.

(Name) stood beside them, feeling a bit nervous. She looked between the other three, holding the straps of her backpack tight.

“Let’s go.”

She ran beside them, keeping up pretty well. As they raised through the desert area, Killua and Gon both kept an eye on her to make sure she was still following behind. They didn’t doubt her skill, but did worry over her due to her asthma. Not only were they running quite a bit, but they were kicking up a lot of dust as they did.

She was relieved when they came upon a forested area, the group stopping a bit ahead of her. Thinking it was for a break, she took out her canteen and took a swig, only to spit out her water almost immediately.

On the ground in front of them was a puddle of blood, along with torn bits of clothing… clothing that (Name) recognized. “No…”

Gon grimaced beside her, his hand reaching out to squeeze hers. It was a bit too tight, but she didn’t say anything, she was in shock.

Killua bent over. “This… is a bullet casing.”

(Name) turned to see him holding up just that, the bucket casing glinting in the light that shined between the canopy above. “Nothing mechanical is allowed here, right?”

“So the underground rulers of NGL were manufacturing guns in addition to drugs.”

“But, judging by this…”

“It wasn’t done by a human. Most likely, it was a Chimera Ant. If the Chimera Ants are using guns… I hate to consider the possibility, but it’s possible that NGL’s underground rulers have already been fed to the queen…”

(Name) was still in shock, dropping to her knees to tenderly pick up Ponzu’s hat. Her fingers traced the fabric, brushing away the dirt.

“What will happen if Chimera Ants are both with their genes? NGL and Chimera Ants… the worst combination imaginable. This could create an unprecedented biohazard.”

Killua watched her from a distance, feeling some strange heartache when he noticed tears falling down her cheeks.

“Do you think she’s… alive?”

Her voice cracked at the work alive, as if it was hard for her to imagine a world where Ponzu wasn’t alive. Killua and Gon shared a glance, preparing to speak but Kite beat them to it.

“It’s unlikely.”

It was like time stopped, the air around her growing too heavy to breathe in. She stared at the hat in her grasp, her hands trembling. “No… no she can’t be dead, there… there has to be-“

“(Name).”

Kite placed a hand on her shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “We can’t sit here and speculate. If we don’t keep moving, the death count will keep rising, and your friend’s death would have been in vain. If seeing death is something you can’t handle, you should turn back while you still can.”

It was a bit harsh, but he wasn’t wrong. The road ahead of the would be full of death and destruction, and if she chose to walk that road she would have to be strong enough to keep moving, despite her losses.

She wiped her tears and stood up, pocketing Ponzu’s hat. “Sorry, I’m ready.”

Kite nodded, and they all began their journey again, this time in complete silence.

————————

In a town a few hours away from York New, Leorio drove down one of the winding roads as he glanced at the address on his phone. It was nearly midnight, and he had an important exam he’d have to take in the morning.

“You’re doing this for her, Leorio,” he mumbled to himself as he wiped the sleep from his eyes.

(Name) never asked him to do things for her, no, she only asked for favors when it came to helping others. Sometimes he wished she would put herself first and let him be there for her more, but he knew that it would take some time for her to open up more.

Leorio stopped the car and peeked out his window, surveying the bar the address had led him to.

“Where is he? Melody told (Name) he would be-“

He stopped, his eyes landing on a slumped figure sitting on the sidewalk. Leorio knew exactly who it was, even though their face was covered by their long blonde hair.

“Kurapika.”

Leorio stood in front of the blonde, waiting as he slowly lifted his head. “Leorio? Why… are you here..?”

The man crossed his arms, staring down at Kurapika with the look of a disappointed father. “Come on, you can’t just sit on the sidewalk drunk. Where’s Melody?”

The blonde blinked slowly, his eyes half lidded as he looked up at Leorio. “Had to go watch Neon…”

Leorio’s lips formed into a tight line. “I’m assuming she took your shift to save your ass?”

Kurapika didn’t answer, instead hiccuping before sipping on a bottle of water that had been left beside him. Leorio knew it had to be Melody who left it behind for him, to help Kurapika sober up a bit. “Come on, I’m taking you home.”

The blonde didn’t protest, stumbling to his feet and nearly falling on his face before Leorio caught him. “Fuck, Kurapika, you’re wasted. What the hell has gotten into you?”

He didn’t answer, the smell of alcohol on Kurapika’s breath making Leorio grimace. Even through his anger, Leorio could sense something was wrong, that the person he had considered his friend needed help. “Whatever, come on.”

Leorio placed him in the passenger seat of his car, grabbing (Name)’s cardigan from the backseat and tossing it to Kurapika. It was cold, and Leorio’s car didn’t have heating, so that would keep him warm.

He just wasn’t expecting the reaction Kurapika would have to the soft clothing.

Kurapika’s eyes went wide, tears falling down his cheeks as he buried his face into the fabric, sobbing into her cardigan. “(Name)… oh, (Name)…”

This act made Leorio pause, his brows knitting together. He knew Kurapika had pushed her away for her own good, but he had still been unnecessarily cruel to the only person that had given him unconditional love since his clan was massacred. In Leorio’s eyes, he didn’t have the right to be sobbing into her cardigan and whimpering her name. Kurapika didn’t deserve to mourn her as if she was dead when she was still alive.

But Leorio still helped him to his hotel room, still held back his hair when he threw up, and still brushed Kurapika’s teeth for him so he wouldn’t have the taste of vomit in his mouth when he woke up. Leorio was a doctor, he couldn’t just leave him without something, so he tucked Kurapika in and set a glass of water and some pain relief medicine on the nightstand. It was all he could do, he had to leave so he could try and get some sleep before his exam in the morning.

As he left, he remembered that Kurapika still had (Name)’s cardigan. Leorio was about to take it back, but he watched as Kurapika snuggled into the fabric, the scent helping to calm down his racing heart. Leorio was far too kind, muttering under his breath as he closed Kurapika’s hotel door behind him. “I’ll just ask Melody to wash it and send it back tomorrow…”

Kurapika wouldn’t remember any of this encounter when he woke up, but he would be pleasantly surprised to be wearing (Name)’s cardigan in the morning.

Neither Leorio or (Name) would get that cardigan back, unfortunately.

————————

“It’s safe to assume that the Chimera Ants have assumed control of NGL’s interior. The question is if we can reach their nest before the Queen births the King.”

(Name) was having a bit of trouble keeping up, her chest was heavy with grief and regrets. Could she have saved Ponzu if she had come with her and Pokkle instead?

“Hindsight is always 20/20. Thinking of what could have been will change nothing,” Kite stated, as if he could read (Name)’s thoughts. The woman frowned deeply.

“I know… but… if I had just-“

Kite cut her off by holding up his hand. “But you didn’t. You’re here now, let’s focus on trying to honor your friend by saving as many lives as we can.”

She didn’t answer, simply allowing Gon to squeeze her hand gently. (Name) didn’t have the words or energy to properly respond to Kite. Her absence in her friend’s time of need weighed heavily on her chest, and she wasn’t sure if she’d ever forgive herself.

“There’s still hope, (Name),” Gon said softly as they continued towards a small village. “You said Pokkle was with her, right? Maybe he’s still alive.”

She tried her best to smile. “You’re right, there is still hope. Sorry if I scared you, Gon.”

She knew better than most that Gon didn’t like seeing his friends lose hope. It was something that made the boy a bit anxious, and he’d often do as much as he could to make the other feel better. (Name) tried to keep her aura neutral as calm, to make sure he didn’t feel the need to comfort her too much. Gon was just a child after all, a child she wanted to protect. She couldn’t let her feelings of grief potentially put him in harm’s way.

That’s why, even as they walked through the abandoned village, she remained silent, a cold anger washing over her at the sight of torn and bloody children’s clothes and beloved dollies left behind in the dirt. No child would willingly leave their previous toy behind, and the clothes being the only thing telling them humans had been there was very similar to the state they’d found Ponzu in. Or well, what was left of her.

“No one’s here.” Gon said softly as his fingers traced the splintered wood of a destroyed door. Whatever had been there before them had the strength to tear down homes like shredding paper. “Hey… something smells. Coming from over there.”

The group followed a trail of blood, Killua instinctively sticking very close to (Name). It’s like his body could sense that she wasn’t as well equipped as them to handle the threat they would soon face, and he would need to have her at arms length in case something came at them.

They found several horses impaled on tree limbs, the sound of flies buzzing around they corpses and the smell of death becoming more pronounced the closer they got. (Name) covered her nose, gagging at the pungent odor hanging around the area.

“It’s like a morning sacrifice.” Gon said, making Killua and (Name) tilt their heads.

“A ritual practices by birds called bull-headed shrikes. They impale their prey on sharp objects such as branches.” Kite explained to the two, before they all turned their heads.

“HEY!”

Killua threw his arm in front of (Name), fueled by pure instinct. She yelped slightly, he hadn’t had time to hold back, so the blow to her belly stung quite a bit. She didn’t complain though, the sight of the creature appearing before them made her pain dull in comparison to the overwhelming fear she felt.

It was tall, possibly taller than Kite with a human-like appearance. The thing that set it apart was the strange legs and wing like limbs, along with rabbit ears, nose, and whiskers. The thing about it that scared her the most was the fact that it had been able to conceal its presence from them.

“What!?”

“Wh-what is that thing?”

(Name) pushed away the urge to pull Killua and Gon behind her, knowing that one wrong move could have that thing attack them within seconds. Her eyes didn’t leave the creature, not for a second. She had never felt so afraid, not even standing before the Phantom Troupe. At least they had been human, but she had no idea what this was, and the unknown was more frightening than anything else.

They were all on high alert, watching as it raised a hand to point at them. “Trash. Those are mine!”

It seemed to be angry that they were near its prey, the horses. That thing must have been what impale the poor things.

It launched towards them, so fast that (Name) could barely follow it with her eyes. Kite was its target, and when he easily dodged it, it came after them. It hit her, Gon, and Killua out of the way, the blow causing them to fly backwards several feet. (Name) nearly puked, and even Gon whined from the pain.

That sound made (Name) tense up, her aura spreading out to cover the two as she got into a fighting position. She didn’t have as much experience as Killua and Gon, but she would fight regardless.

The creature seemed focused on Kite, as he was the biggest threat, but he didn’t give the creature the time of day, instead disappearing from sight before reappearing behind the three. “Gon, Killua, (Name). You three must deal with him yourselves. This is a chimera ant soldier, we will encounter many more like him. I won’t be able to help you during combat. If you can’t defeat it, you’ll have to leave. You’ll just be in my way.”

The two boys nodded, their auras spiking as (Name) bit her lip. She knew Kite was right, he usually was, but she feared what may happen to them.

“Weren’t you listening, Kite?” Gon asked, his gaze focusing on the chimera ant.

“We’re also pros!” Killua added as they began to advance towards their opponent.

“Don’t treat us like kids!”

(Name) jumped slightly, holding a hand over her heart. She wanted to listen, but in her heart there would always be children to her. But she knew that babying them wouldn’t accomplish anything, so instead she stood by their sides, ready to fight with them.

(Name) attacked with them, barely dodging a hit that would have knocked her head clean off her shoulders. She used her nen to protect her body from another blow before reinforcing her fists and focusing all of her nen into her fist to punch him in the face.

The creature was dazed just long enough for Killua and to land a lightning based attack on him, paralyzing it so Gon could get a hit in with his own nen attack.

It was launched into the air, and before the could continue, it was scooped up by another Chimera Ant. It growled and roared, struggling. “Bastards! I’m gonna eat you! I will! Remember this!”

“Our attacks…” Gon whispered, his eyes still on the Chimera Ant.

“They didn’t work.” Killua finished, giving (Name) a look over before frowning.

Kite approached them, his aura calm. “That guy’s smart. He let his soldier do the fighting, so he could learn our abilities. Are you coming?”

They all turned to look at him, eyes wide.

“There’s no need to feel down. Your attacks weren’t that bad. You just need experience now. If you wish to become stronger, this is a perfect opportunity. But if you aren’t prepared, you won’t be able to endure the ordeal. Whether we win or lose, hell lied ahead of us.”

They glanced at each other, and (Name) knew that she couldn’t leave. Not when things like that chimera ant existed.

“We’re coming.”

“Yeah.”

————————

As the sun began to set, they came across the corpses of several NGL workers that ran the hidden drug factory. Although they weren’t good people, (Name) still said a quick prayer, hoping they would find peace after being slaughtered like animals.

“This is ugly… the stench alone would guide us to the corpses.” Kite said, looking over the devastation caused by the chimera ants.

“Look at this. So this is the hidden side of the NGL.”

Killua held up a gun, frowning. (Name) took it from his hands and set it back down, then took out her handkerchief and swiped it over his palms.

“I suppose so.”

They looked up when they heard Gon call them from the hill. “Killua, Kite, (Name)…”

The silence of the Drug factory overtaken by the Chimera Ants further intensified the chill in the air. There was no doubt that every human that had once worked there was now dead, the smell confirmed it.

(Name) sighed softly as they set up camp for the night nearby. It was far enough away that they could actually rest for a bit in shifts. As Gon and Killua slept, Kite turned to (Name).

“You did well during the fight, but I did notice you only used your basic nen practices. Is there a reason for that?”

She nodded. “Yeah, it’s because I don’t really know all that much about nen. I’ve got the basics down, but when it comes to anything more advanced, I’m not that knowledgeable.”

Kite winced, scratching the back of his head. “Ah, I have a feeling I’m to blame for that.”

(Name) smiled, glancing back at the two boys sleeping before giving Kite her attention again. “Mmm, I didn’t want to say it, but yeah.”

They both shared a laugh before Kite leaned back and sighed. “Alright, I guess this is a good opportunity to teach you some things, but let’s start you off by retaking the water divination test.”

She watched as Kite prepared the test, her fingers tapping nervously against her leg. “Relax, you took it once before, didn’t you?”

“Yeah… but I was alone. I… I was pretty sure the volume of water increased.”

Kite hummed in thought. “Well, with another person here to inspect the results, maybe I can pick up on something you didn’t.”

“Yeah…”

She held her hands over the cup, gently emitting her aura. Again, it seemed like the volume of water in the cup raised, but Kite seemed to notice something she didn’t. “Ah, so that’s what it is… I had a feeling you weren’t an enhancer, and I was right.”

(Name) tilted her had as he lifted the leaf in the cup, and was surprised to see roots stretching down to the bottom of the cup. “The reason the volume of water rose was because you were making this leaf sprout roots. You’re a specialist for sure, possibly with some kind of time ability…”

“B-but I thought… my ability was to heal…”

Kite shook his head, placing the leaf in her hand. “Keep using your ability and don’t stop until I say so.”

She nodded and continued, her eye widening as the roots continued to grow, and then shrivel up in her hand before turning to dust. “You have the ability to speed up time. It can be used to heal, but it can also be used to hurt.”

Kite tried to hide his concerned expression. This was quite the ability for an inexperienced nen user to have. As her teacher, he would have to report this to Chairman Netero for safety reasons, but as her friend… he was impressed.

“(Name)!” Gon whisper yelled, crouching next to her. Before telling her what he wanted to, he let out a yawn and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. “It’s… your turn to sleep.”

“Ah, okay.”

She got up, but Kite caught her arm. “(Name), don’t forget what we learned tonight. I want you to try using your ability in your next battle.”

“Yeah… I will.”

She laid down in the sleeping back Kite brought, getting some much needed rest, feeling a lot more confident in herself, now that she knew what she was capable of.

————————

Kite, Gon, Killua, and (Name) had advanced deep within NGL, in search of the Chimera Ant nest, and have arrived at a cliff with peculiar openings.

“This is the Chimera Ant nest?” Gon asked, looking upon the former weapon factory.

“No, they don’t make their nests in holes. They use mud and feces to build them.” Kite replied, making the three wince in disgust. “Let’s go. You’ll understand once we’re inside.”

The lights along the tunnel flickered as they travelled through it. (Name) wrapped her cardigan tightly around herself, feeling the slight cool breeze blow past them as they ventured in further.

“There’s no telling when or from where they will attack. Be on your guard.” Kite warned.

“Yeah, got it. That other chimera ant completely concealed his presence.”

Killua’s reminder made (Name) shudder. It was frightening, thinking of beings they had considered animals being able to conceal themselves completely.

“Is this place…”

They entered a room with various numbered large vials stood, some shattered. Body parts were scattered on the floor, presumably belonging to the now fed NGL workers.

“Yes, it is NGL’s hidden side.” Kite confirmed.

“A drug factory.”

“Exactly. This factory produces the ingestible drug D2 which is spreading throughout the mainland. There are probably bila trees nearby, which produce its main ingredient. Ironic given their claims as preservationists.” Kite said with a scoff.

“They’re making more than drugs. Look.” Killua opened a box containing various guns. “It’s the same as the others.”

“I assume that only the NGL leaders know the truth of this place. The other members joined because they honestly loved nature. “

“So this facility is the center of NGL’s underground. If it’s empty…

Then Chimera Ants have wiped out the NGL underground. And a bunch of amateurs with guns won’t suffice to deal with them.” Kite finished Killua’s thought.

(Name) tuned them out for a moment as she inspected the guns, but was quickly stirred from her thoughts when Kite spoke.

“Shh, a few are around.”

She was immediately on guard, her body tensing as she stood among Killua and Gon. “They’re slowly approaching through the middle tunnel. There are more in the right and left tunnels.” Kite warned.

“En… how far can you search?” Killua asked as the approached the room.

“Everything within a 45 meter radius.”

“45 meters!?” Gon exclaimed, glancing around the room.

“Depending on physical and mental condition, I can increase that by a few meters. Here they come!”

(Name) prepared herself for the fight ahead, ready to test out her abilities for the first time.

[mpregandproud]

Isaac II (Part 10)

Time is flying by. It's been 5 years since my last delivery and Isaac and I have talked a lot about our life plan. While we have always dreamed of having a huge family, and we really have, we haven't had any more children since Andrew, Adrian, Jon and Michael were born.

And it's not because we didn't try, because shortly after Sandra, Cal, Patrick and Isaac became parents, we were overcome with an immense sense of fatherhood. But apparently men, just like women, have a time in our lives when we stop being fertile. As there are still not so many men with the capacity to get pregnant, there is not much information about it. But after three years of trying and failing to get pregnant, considering our history, our doctor told us that we are going through male menopause, andropause he called it.

I did not take the news well, although in the end, at 53 years of age, it was more than expected. If after giving birth to the quadruplets I was unable to regain the shape I had before giving birth, after the news this was mission impossible. I drowned in food the anxiety I felt knowing that I would never again be able to generate life.

You'll say I'm an idiot. After giving birth to 21 babies in two decades, and expanding the family with grandchildren, who would want to have more children. Really, anyone you tell that we wanted to experience pregnancy one more time would think we were crazy. It took me months to understand what the people around me were thinking, but it's complicated for someone who has built so much of his life these past few years around his pregnancies, this new scenario was complicated.

The good thing is that I had Isaac and the kids by my side at all times. My sister and my friends Lucas and Adam were a great help in understanding that I had to enter a new stage in my life, the grandfather stage. I already had six grandchildren, the children of Sandra and Cal and Patrick and Isaac, wonderful, beautiful children. Although I was still raising my youngest children, the prospect of more grandchildren filled me with excitement.

Dylan, Nate, Philip, Edward and Cristina, now out of college and working, introduced us to their various partners. Dylan had met Jessica, a beautiful girl who was Miss of her country, I can't remember where is she from. Cristina had Veronica as a girlfriend, and apparently they don't want to have children, they say they prefer to be the cool aunts. Edward is very reserved, but from time to time he let slip the name of a girl named Pamela. Philip was dating Peter, coach of the local soccer team and son of my friend Frank, whom I never imagined as part of my family. Nate, on the other hand, has inherited my husband's gift for flirting, so every now and then he would come home with a guy or girl he had just met and with whom he was already planning his life forever.

Sandra and Cal are still happily in love. They have decided to continue with Cal's parents' business, and not to resume their studies. Little Samba is the most handsome boy in the world, no wonder, having the parents he has. They got married a year after becoming parents, in a small ceremony with their immediate family and little else. They wanted an intimate celebration to celebrate their love with those closest to them.

Bruce, Ken, Charlotte, Ivana and Jason have started their college experience this year. This is not the case of Patrick, who decided to stop for a year to be able to raise his children with more attention during the first months. He and Isaac combine their studies with part-time jobs from Monday to Friday and full-time on weekends. Both have made their first steps as photographic models. As their parents we helped them as much as possible, although we were surprised by how clear their ideas about their life as a couple were. They lived in a small house that allowed them to live comfortably, but without too many expenses, in order to save and be able to progress later on. Two teenagers were giving a life lesson to four grown adults.

A few weeks ago, on the birthday of their sons Anton, Ian, Benji, Liam and Zach announced to us that they wanted to get married. They had been living together for a long time and deeply in love, so I guess it was the inevitable step in their lives. I cried like a little girl when Patrick told Isaac and I that he was getting married. In addition to the excitement of seeing a son get married, there was also the emotion of seeing myself very much reflected in the story of these two boys who, at just 20 years old, were living intensely the life they wanted.

Two months after the announcement, the big day arrived. Little by little the guests arrived at the venue. All our children and their respective partners, nieces and nephews, friends, some teachers, colleagues from work and sports teams… the room was filling up waiting for the two lovers. Sandra attracted many stares, especially from those who did not yet know that she was pregnant again.

While keeping an eye on our youngest children, I ran into Lucas and Adam, both impeccably dressed in gray. It seemed unbelievable that these two men my own age had this physique, with no exercise according to bastard Lucas, and I look like I'm eight months pregnant. It doesn't help that I've given birth to a good portion of the guests at this ceremony. And it also doesn't help that my husband has insisted on keeping me fat because it makes him so horny. I look more and more like my father.

After a few minutes Isaac arrived accompanied by his brother, Dan. The groom looked gorgeous in his navy blue suit, bow tie and a flower in his lapel. You could see him standing there looking so handsome and nervous waiting for Patrick to arrive. When he walked up the aisle he didn't talk to anyone, he was staring at the door of the venue, he was a bundle of nerves. Even with those nerves on edge we could see why he was dedicating himself to being a photo model. The boy was the spitting image of his father Lucas when he was young, the same Lucas I was madly in love with as a teenager.

Five minutes later Patrick arrived accompanied by my husband Isaac. Isaac looked spectacular, and I was reassured to see that he had also put on some weight in recent years, not as much as I had, but he was not as thin as when we first met. Although he has aged more than I have, he looked like a handsome mature Hollywood actor in his navy blue suit.

Our son stepped forward a bit when they arrived near the altar. The poor guy only had eyes for his future husband, Isaac. He walked briskly over to where he stood and took his hand, smiled at him and kissed him on the cheek.

“Hold my hand you too, I'm about to burst into tears from excitement,” Isaac whispered in my ear as he sat next to me in the front row. I pinched his cheek tenderly and gave him a peck on the mouth.

After a few minutes of speeches from friends and family, Dylan, our oldest son and the master of ceremonies, invited the grooms to dedicate their vows to each other. The first to speak was Isaac.

“Patrick, I can't believe we're here, on this day we've dreamed of so much. We've been dating for six years, but I think I remember being in love with you for as long as I can remember. You were the mischievous little boy with the charming smile that I always wanted to play with when my parents took me to your parents' house. As luck would have it, we connected and time brought us together in a way I never imagined we would with you. I think all of us gays are scared to take the step of starting a relationship with our best friend in high school, but I will never, ever regret kissing you at the end of the hallway on the second floor of high school. You have given me the five most beautiful children in the world and you have filled every second of my life with light. I want to share with you the rest of our lives, expand our family and the happiness we share. I love you,” Isaac said. The audience applauded and he, deeply in love, kissed Patrick.

“What can I say now?” began Patrick, which was followed by some complicit laughter from the audience. “The gift of gab has never been my strong suit, but I've been writing down what to say now for weeks. I come from a huge family and grew up watching both my parents love each other deeply. I don't think I was ever aware of how much I wanted to build something that looked even the slightest bit like what the two of them had built. From a young age I knew I was gay, and I don't know why I thought that because of that very fact I wouldn't have the ease of having children that my brothers did. But then you came into my life. The boy I have been in love with since I was 5 years old. Our love was complicated, for some people we are like cousins and for others even brothers, but for me you have always been my best friend, and now the father of my children and the man with whom I share every moment of my life. You kissed me that fall day in high school, and my life changed forever, everything made sense. Since that moment I have wanted to share every moment with you. My friends and siblings know that I am not able to have a conversation, no matter what the topic, without mentioning you 20 times a minute, you complement me and you have made me grow personally and emotionally. Can I ask for more? I don't think so. I can't wait to put the ring on your finger and make official in the eyes of the law what has been official in our hearts and family for six years now. It will be the first step in the rest of our wonderful lives. I want you to join me on this journey. I love you, Isaac,” Patrick finished, planting a kiss right there for Isaac.

Dylan uttered the relevant questions and they both responded with a resounding “yes”, to which our eldest son told them “you can kiss the groom, or should I say husband”. The two melted into one, kissing passionately. The guests were clapping and throwing petals and rice at them. Lucas, Adam, Isaac and I were in the front row, four 55-year-old men crying like babies watching our sons united in marriage and sharing their happiness with everyone.

They went on a honeymoon in the Caribbean, and when they returned they told us that in a few weeks they would be moving to the big city because of a job offer they had both received. A modeling agency had noticed their wedding photos and wanted to sign them, for which they had to move to the city, where they would find the best job opportunities.

Since their departure we spoke to them very little, as they had an impossible schedule of photo shoots, catwalks and interviews. A year after their wedding, taking advantage of the fact that Lucas and Adam were with us at home, we made a video call with them. They looked overjoyed, deeply happy with their life together. They told us how they were balancing parenting their five children with a career as demanding as modeling.

“Dads, we have something to tell you, that's why we called you”, Isaac said on the other side of the screen. “We found out a few weeks ago and we wanted you to be the first to know. Isaac and I are going to be dads again, we're pregnant", said Patrick.

The end of Isaac II

This story will continue…